#i noticed we are on different world is because of the Statue of Seven. because by that time I had max mine | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rubydubydoo122 · 2 months

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In every universe Jason Peter Todd dies young. It’s a fate sealed across the multiverse. Maybe he could hope that there’s one universe where he doesn’t. aka, Jason, Dick, and Bruce go multiverse hopping, and are not having a fun time. (Ps, when I started writing this fic I hced Jason as Latino, but I don't really believe in that hc anymore, so just a heads up if you don't like that hc)

TRIGGER WARNING -> Child Death (it's Jason)

A child was gone. A child was gone. A child was gone. A child was gone. A child was gone. A child was gone. A child was gone.

Seven children were gone. And another one was about to die. And another one and another one, with every new reality they went to, because that was the pattern.

It wasn’t just Jason dying. It was Jason dying as a kid, unable to grow old. None of his counterparts would grow old.

None of them spoke. It was like they were frozen in time. Except he knew they weren’t frozen because his knees were trembling and he had to clench his fists to keep them steady. Before he could tell what he was doing, Jason was moving.

He could tell who was comforting who. If he was clinging to Dick to keep himself from floating away or if Dick’s vice-like hug was to make sure he wouldn’t turn into smoke right in his arms.

Finally, it was Bruce who broke the silence, “We should find somewhere to rest. Maybe sit this universe out.”

And honestly, Dick and Jason were too worn out to realize it wasn’t a very Batman thing to say. In fact, it felt a lot like the Bruce they both knew in their childhood. The man that didn’t have Batman bleeding into the person he truly was– Bruce.

Though now that they were relatively back to their senses, he took his time to look around. The magic was strong in this universe. Specifically soul magic.

The sould didn’t feel like they were on a separate plane, like how he learned with Ducra. It felt like each and every soul had the ability to pass through the veil and take on a form in the physical world. Like if everyone had the ability to summon their own version of the All Blades.

They were in some sort of museum. Except, It didn’t feature dinosaurs or WWII artifacts. No. It seemed to feature winged skeletons, but attached to humans. Except they weren’t really attached. As far as Jason could tell, the anatomy didn’t really line up for the back of the ribs to connect with the wings. Though Jason could feel the connection between the wings and the skeleton that ran soul deep.

Bruce smoothed out Jason’s hair, “Come on, lets go.”

As soon as they got outside, they realized what was different about this universe. There were people with wings. From the shape of a falcon to a songbird, from the wing of a dove to a vulture. He could tell that each and every set of wings was a reflection of that person’s soul. It was their soul.

He thought about Bruce. Maybe his wings would be some sort of Eagle. Strong, sharp, intelligent. Though, those are more qualities of a person, not a soul. And an Eagle didn’t really seem to fit Bruce. You can’t really describe a soul with words. It’s just an energy, a vibe.

What would Dick’s look like? Dick, a man who was born to fly. Him having Robin wings felt a little too on the nose. He had to have giant wings that drew eyes and signaled comfort. Jason couldn’t really think of a specific wing that would portray that. Unless his wings were unique, and unlike anything anyone has seen.

He wondered what his wings would look like. Would his soul, a soul strong enough to wield the All-Blades, have giant wings that were majestic? Or was he too broken? Would his wings only manifest as a few measly feathers.

They got to a motel, and the receptionist noticed them immediately, “Oh! Mr. Wayne! I didn’t expect anyone of your status to ever stay somewhere here.”

Bruce gave her one of his signature Brucie Wayne smiles, “It was the closest place.”

She looked from Dick to Jason and gave him a soft smile back, “Rough night out?”

“You could say that.”

She handed them a key, “The room’s on the house. After all you and your sons do for the city, it’s the least we could do.”

Bruce looked a little confused, “Are you sure? I have enough money–”

“Yes, yes, please. I insist. You and your family are the Guardian Angels of Gotham. My boss would throw a fit if he realized I made you pay. Now go! Rest! It’s the least you could do.”

“Oh.” Bruce took the key, “Thank you.”

As soon as they got to the room, Dick face planted onto the colossal bed (For the wings? But sleeping with those seemed like work). Then he rolled over and started pushing all the sheets to the middle. Like he used to do when Jason was visiting the Titans.

Dick was the type of person who didn’t sleep with any blankets, whereas Jason bundled himself like a burrito. Jason could sleep without them– his time on the streets and in the league made that a necessity– but when given the choice, he’d take the protection and safety blankets provided.

Of course he knew he could trust Dick to catch him when he fell, or to protect his back, but it took a while for Jason to trust Dick like that . He remembers, way back in the beginning, he used to sleep on the giant couch in Titan’s tower, which slowly turned into sleeping on the ground in Dick’s room. Then to the opposite end of the bed with a pillow wall separating them.

There was that time, it was a couple nights before Dick left for space. Jason had went to Titan’s Tower after Gloria Stanson died and the whole situation with Fellipe Garzonas. And Dick, he just held him in his arms. Leaning his cheek on top of Jason’s curls. Not saying anything, and just holding him. He didn’t ask any questions. He just gave him comfort.

It was hard for Jason to trust people like that. Trust people enough to be vulnerable around them. Though once Jason trusted someone, nothing they did could break that trust. Sure, they could disappoint him, like Bruce and Sheila, or even in some ways Talia, but he still trusted them with his whole being. Even if he knew Dick didn’t trust him. He probably didn’t see Jason as anything more than a… coworker, or a person who took the face of a kid he maybe used to care about, Jason trusted Dick more than anyone else in the world. He was his big brother.

Jason rolled himself up in the blankets and scooted until his forehead was slightly touching Dick’s shoulder. Dick immediately melted relaxed That couldn’t be right. Maybe he was just really tired.

Soon he could hear Dick’s breathing even out and knew he was asleep.

He thought about how Jay from the Alley, and Baby Jay would never get that big brother. How the Robin Jays barely got close enough to really know Dick as a brother before they died. Even he didn’t really have the rights to call Dick his brother. Not as much as Tim or Damian, or even Duke. Quality over quantity, and by the time Jason truly opened up he died. They all died.

Jason knew there were infinite realities. He knew there were many realities where he lived, but there had to be equally as many where he died. Maybe even more.

Maybe by coming back to life, he caused one of these many Jasons to die. Maybe that’s why they were on this multiversal adventure. The transporter device is trying to find a reality where his soul fits. Maybe it doesn’t fit anywhere anymore.

“Can’t sleep?”

He shrugged. Jason knew Bruce would notice he wasn’t really asleep. He was Bruce, he couldn’t not notice. He was somehow simultaneously the most observant and the most obtuse person he knew.

They sat in the silence that always felt so loud between the two of them. Sometimes, Jason felt like they were the tides and the moon. He knew Bruce was always trying to reach out to him, but in the end, the gravity of Gotham will always be greater than Jason’s.

He heard Bruce shift in his seat, “Do you… do you remember those nights we’d stayed up all night in the library reading poems?”

Jason nodded. Of course he remembers. Most of the poems he’d been telling all the versions of himself had been from those nights.

He also remembered the reason they were up all night. Most of the time it was because they had run into someone he used to work for. He could never sleep after being so starkly reminded of his past. And it was near impossible to build up the guts to get in a bed those nights.

He remembers sitting in the papasan chair in the library feeling like a bird. He remembers Bruce sitting on the far end of the couch, because even then, he knew. Of course he knew.

He remembers them going back and forth reading poems they thought the other would like. He remembers watching Bruce’s eyelid get heavier and heavier with each blink, but he still stayed up with him. He doesn’t remember falling asleep, but when he woke up, the poetry books they’d been skimming through were left on the coffee table with green flags marking the poems Jason had liked and orange ones marking the ones Bruce did. Though the only ones Jason ended up memorizing were the pink ones, which both of them enjoyed.

“I never told you, but I used to do that with my mother. Not staying up late, but we used to sit in the Library after I had come home from school, and we’d– we did that too.”

Jason didn’t really know what to say to that. ‘ Was anything we did original to us?’ or ‘ I special enough to you to the point where you let me share what you once had with your mother?’.

In the end Jason didn’t say anything, because Bruce continued, “Remember the poem ‘Still I Rise’ , by Maya Angelou?”

He nodded. It used to be his favorite. He remembered finding it the first poetry night he and Bruce spent together. Jason had read it first. And almost every poetry night they had they would come back to that one. They both had it memorized.

“It used to be my mother’s favorite too.”

Jason could never forget the way Bruce read the poem to him. The way he seemed to not just read the poem, but express it.

He always found it interesting that Bruce, a white man, could resonate with that poem. Though now that he thought of it, Bruce always read it like he was recalling a memory. So maybe Martha Wayne, a Jewish woman, helped him understand.

“Though, after the first time you read it out loud to me, I could only think of that poem being yours.” Bruce paused like he was debating saying something, and seemed to ultimately decide against it.

Jason didn’t know what to say. He had too much to say. Too many thoughts and feelings and actions that float around in his mind but never make it past the layers upon layers of thorns he uses to hurt people. The thornes he uses to protect himself.

He wanted to tell Bruce to stop playing with his feelings, but he also wanted Bruce to hold him like he held the boy who was long dead. He wanted Bruce to stop using old memories like a carrot on a string just out of reach. He wanted to tell him of the nights he yearned for Bruce’s voice to lull him to sleep through the pattern of the stanzas. He wants to smack Bruce upside the head and tell him that he’s no longer the boy who died and that he’s still the same person. He wanted to scream that he was here and that he hates the person he’s become. Except he wasn’t sure if he hates Bruce or himself.

He couldn’t stand being in the same room as him. He missed him even though he was two feet away. He hated him because he loved him and that love would never be enough. He just wanted to call him Dad, and not worry about Batman taking that away.

In the end all Jason could say was, “‘s our poem.”

He heard Bruce shift, “Is…is it still our poem?”

Jason nodded, Now more than ever. There were nights, he remembered, during the league, during his early Red Hood days, even now, when the only way he can fall asleep is by reciting poems. Bruce’s voice almost lucid in his head. So when Bruce started speaking he had to remind himself that Bruce was really there. Reciting the poem for him.

“You may write me down in history; With your bitter, twisted lies; You may trod me in the very dirt; But still, like dust, I'll rise; Does my sassiness upset you? Why are you beset with gloom? ’Cause I walk like I've got oil wells; Pumping in my living room. Just like moons and like suns; With the certainty of tides, Just like hopes springing high, Still I'll rise.

“Did you want to see me broken? Bowed head and lowered eyes? Shoulders falling down like teardrops, Weakened by my soulful cries?Does my haughtiness offend you? Don't you take it awful hard; ’Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines; Diggin’ in my own backyard. You may shoot me with your words, You may cut me with your eyes, You may kill me with your hatefulness, But still, like air, I’ll rise.

“Does my sexiness upset you? Does it come as a surprise; That I dance like I've got diamonds; At the meeting of my thighs? Out of the huts of history’s shame; I rise; Up from a past that’s rooted in pain; I rise; I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide, Welling and swelling I bear in the tide. Leaving behind nights of terror and fear; I rise; Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear; I rise; Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave; I am the dream and the hope of the slave.

“I rise. I rise. I rise.”

Jason didn’t remember falling asleep, but he certainly remembers waking up. Because it felt like his soul was being– he couldn’t even describe it. It just felt like his soul was in trouble, but not his soul. It was like it was being ripped out of Jason’s body–

The Jason of this Universe.

He sat up, and realized he was seeing double. Nope not double, there were two Bruces and two Dicks. And an ten/eleven year old Tim, and Stephanie.

So the stalker probably stumbled across them, and their Jay must’ve gone missing, so they came to them for help. Except their Jay couldn’t be dead because Bruce Dick and Jason were still in this universe.

Tim, tilted his head like a bird, “Is your arm glowing a normal thing for you?”

Jason looked down. His soul marks. Except Jason didn’t feel any evil entity near him . Was… was Jay being hunted by an Untitled?

Dick, the older one, replied “No.” At the same time Bruce replied with, “Yes.”

Jason closed his eyes. He’s never been the best at astral projecting, but hopefully trying to track his own soul would make it easier.

The museum.

He made eye contact with Steph who looked bewildered, and spooked all at the same time. So she was probably their witness,

He stood and headed towards the door, making a motion for everyone to follow, “What’s happenin’, Blonde?”

“They- They took Jason and it’s all my fault.”

Jason snapped his head back because usually Steph was not one to be so open while being self loathing, “Oi, cut the guilt. Knowing myself, Jay probably chose to get taken rather than you. So tell me what’s goin’ on. And I want a story, no self loathing.”

Steph stepped into pace with Jason, and took a deep breath, “I was helping this kid, she needed help, but she wasn’t trusting me enough to help her. So…so I showed her my wings.” She said it like it was a bad thing.

He guessed it could be, showing your soul to a stranger, but people flew around with their wings on full display, as far as Jason could tell, it was fine.

“Hm, I dunno if my Bruce has told you this yet, but we’re from a different Universe. One where only birds and bats have wings. I don’t really know the Socio-political climate here. What’s… why was it wrong to show this kid your wings?”

Tim ran up to Jason’s other side, “Wings are a physical manifestation of your soul. There are certain wing types that are super rare. And because they’re so rare, they’re made to be… a spectacle. People who have mythical creature wings, like, Dick, are you ok with me using your parents as an example?”

Dick, the younger one, gave a wistful smile.

“Mr. Grayson had these huge dragon wings, and- and Mrs. Grayson’s wings were absolutely beautiful! They were Psyche’s wings. Do you guys have the myths of Dragons and Psyche in your world– Nope, I’m getting off topic. The more… I wouldn’t say pure or good, because you can’t really describe a soul with words, but usually your wings mirror your soul, and if you have more mythological wings, the more… magic your soul has. Though, if you’re not careful about who you show your wings to, you’ll probably get trafficked if you have pretty ones. That’s what Jason told me.”

Jason nodded. Then stopped in his tracks as the realization hit like a bus, and spun around, “The receptionist called you,” he pointed at Bruce, “And you,” he pointed to Dick, “the ‘ Guardian Angels of Gotham’ . Does that mean you’re really… ”

They nodded. “I have Powers Wings and Dick has Virtues.”

They were angels . He was literally standing in front of angels .

Jason turned around and continued walking while whispering “In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. ” under his breath. He touched his forehead, his chest, his left and right shoulders and then brought his hands together, “Amen.”

That also meant they didn’t have secret identities, but he was in the presence of angels.

Dick– not the angel one– cleared his throat. “So, you… also have angel wings, Steph?”

She nodded, lip wobbling, “But I didn’t notice there were other people in the alley, and like Tim said Jason said, when you have special wings you get taken and– and before I knew it, Jason was jumping down into the Alley, spreading his wings and telling me to run, and- and he got taken.”

Bruce, the literal angel, face looked conflicted between proud and worried, “He spread his wings? He doesn’t show them to anyone .”

Angel Dick made a pinched face, which meant Dick The Angel knew what wings Jay had. God, he was probably– he probably had songbird wings or something. If he had any other wings, he probably would have a mental breakdown.

They walked through the doors of the museum, as Tim tugged at Jason’s sleeve, “Why are your hands glowing?”

The feeling of his soul being chiseled out chip by chip became almost overbearing. “Kinda… kinda like your wings, but I got swords instead.” He placed his hand to his heart, to keep it from bursting out of his chest, but it wasn’t working. “Timbo… do you also have Angel wings?”

He nodded, “I have Dominion wings. They’re not as cool as Jason’s though.”

Tim was a literal angel too. And… if these traffickers targeted people with special wings, he couldn’t let Tim and Steph wherever those traffickers were. He couldn’t let another Tim watch his brother die “Alright, I have a really important task for you and Steph.” Jason crouched down so he could be face to face with them. “Whenever I use my soul sword, it takes a lot of energy out of me, cus it’s ya know, a sword that comes from my soul. Do you guys have gatorade here? Specifically lime green.” they both nodded, “Do you also have Arizona Iced Tea, Space Rocks– not pop rocks, there’s a difference– Sour gummy worms, but they have to be the Candy Works Brand, and those strawberry hard candies that grandmas always have–”

“The ones with the gooey center?”

“Yes! Those! Along with the butterscotches they usually have on them too. I need you two to find all of those things. Then I need you to mix the drinks and the gummy worms together, but not the Space Rocks or the old lady candy. Then, I need you to put an old lady candy in your mouth and chant ‘Acres of All, give All strength.’ Keep chanting until you’ve dissolved three candies each , ok? It has to be three strawberries, three butterscotches.” They nodded again, “And then, once you’re done with the old lady candies, you have to throw the pop rocks into the gummy worm drink, and say, ‘ soul replenisher’ until all the bubbles from the Space Rocks fizzle out. Make sure to take your time. If you rush it, my soul will become very weak.”

Steph and Tim nodded solemnly, “We won’t let you down, Giant Jason.” and they ran off to go find the ingredients.

Jason stood up and walked deeper into the museum, where his astral projection went, but all it led him to was the center of the museum. He could feel his own soul. He could feel the evil presence nearby. They were close enough to where he could summon the All Blades, but he kept them away. Not yet. There had to be a hidden door somewhere.

He paused in the middle of the room. There were wings with feathers preserved in resin.

Seraphim Wings.

All three sets of wings were open wide, they weren’t curled in to veil the angel like they were supposed to. They were spread open. They looked wrong . Then he saw the plaque.

The wings of Thomas Wayne. The first Seraphim in centuries. Seraphim feathers hold special healing qualities that are even rumored to be able to heal fatal wounds. These feathers lose their healing ability after the Seraphim dies.

Jason felt his blood run cold. This… this was worse than the case that held the suit he died in. This was a dead soul on display– no. This was a trapped soul. Never to be set free. Never to be at rest.

Dick frowned, confusion slowly making way for horror, “But, Tim said that… your wings are your souls.”

Jason grabbed his Bruce by the elbow before he could fall to the ground.

“Bruce–” He wasn’t sure which Dick said it to which Bruce, but Angel Bruce cut him off.

“I had no say in it. I can never forgive Alfred for it, but this Gotham, this world , it isn’t just magic. It’s also cursed and corrupt. It was the only way he could keep me from living a life in a fighting pit or a cage.”

Angel Dick’s eyebrows scrunched up in worry, “ Br –”

“What about…” Bruce peeled his eyes away from the taxidermy of his father, “What about Mom?”

Angel Bruce looked away.

Jason could hear his Bruce’s jaw click shut, “You’re a grown man now, capable of protecting yourself. Why won’t you–”

“Don’t you think I tried ?! They came after Dick! I’m trying my best here! And I know my parents would rather have their grandkids safe than their memories honored. I have to pick and choose my battles. It’s not just about doing the right thing, it’s a war against evil . And my parents not being put to rest is a small loss compared to what’s necessary for my kids, and maybe even grandkids, to live in a safer Gotham.” Angel Bruce was looking at Bruce firmly. Eyes narrowed in that way that left no room for argument.

This Bruce was a Protector's Angel. This Bruce fought true evil. And Jason could feel all the Untitled-Like beings crawling around nearby. There was no hoping for redemption when it came to them. This Bruce killed, but it was nessasary. These evil beings would stop at nothing to get what they want.

Jason shifted and walked over to a patch where the stone floor looked off. He lodged his foot into an odd looking cobblestone, and suddenly the ground under him disappeared.

No stairs. Just free falling. Which was good for people with wings, but Jason didn’t really have those.

He summoned one of his All Blades and stuck it into the wall to stop his fall.

Angel Dick came diving down, before catching sight of Jason hanging and stopped. “Don’t scare me like that!”

Jason almost slipped off his sword, because, holy mother of Christ, Angel Dick had his Angel wings out.

Jason regained his grip, and positioned himself so he was sitting on the blade like a seat.

There was the sound of grapples and suddenly Bruce and Dick were hanging next to him. Followed by Angel Bruce floating next to Angel Dick.

Bruce frowned at him, “Didn’t you say the Blades burned up your soul?”

“Only when I stab truly evil things.” He gestured downwards.

Angel Bruce’s expression darkened, “I’m going to head down, and do some recon, you four, wait for me to come back.” And he dove down.

Dick anchored his foot into his grapple, so he was no longer hanging by his arms, and gave a questioning glance to Jason, “Magical soul swords, huh?”

Jason, instead of answering to Dick’s passive aggressive question, shifted on his makeshift seat and rested his head in his hands. He felt like his intestines were entangling within themselves forming a tapestry that read the words, ‘Something was wrong. ’ Something was really really wrong. And he could feel how close Jay was. It was like if he reached his hand through the wall he would be able to grab his hand. Except, Jason couldn’t do that.

Angel Bruce came back up, “I couldn’t see Jason, but there are cages filled with children lining the perimeter of the substructure. There seems to be bidding going on. ART Dick and Bruce, you two sneak around and open the cages while Dick and I will guide them to safety, there are three more exits to the North, East, and West. We are currently in the South exit. Jason…just, try to find my son.”

Jason nodded. He just didn’t know if it’d be in time. With each second he felt like more and more of his soul was being plucked away until he was left raw and pink.

Bruce gave him a nod before grappling the rest of the way down. Dick squeezed Jason’s ankle and followed Bruce’s lead.

Which left him with the Angels.

Angel Bruce looked at Jason, “Thank you, for making sure Tim and Stephanie were safe. I know you don’t actually need the gatorade-tea-candy potion.”

Jason looked at the knee of his pants. They had rust color stains. Blood. Of different Jasons. That were on him because he was too late to save himself. “I just didn’t want them seeing anything they shouldn’t”

Angel Dick floated closer to Jason and cupped his face, “I don’t know what you’ve been through these past couple days, or months, or maybe even years, but just know that you are the most resilient person I’ve ever known. And that I care about you so much.”

Something about that tightened the knots in his stomach. “I’m not the kid you want to say that to.”

Angel Dick smiled, and shook his head, “It’s something I know holds true throughout each and every Universe. You’re my little brother. And nothing can change that.”

And with that, the Angels dove down.

Jason shook his head. He’s not the Dick he wants to hear those words from. He knows those words will never come out of his brother’s mouth.

Well, he wasn’t getting any more info by astral projection. Time for the good old fashion way.

If Jason Todd in this Universe was a son of Bruce Wayne, known to be the Guardian Angel of Gotham, he was probably being kept somewhere secure. Not with any of the rest of the kids who were being trafficked. He would also be up for a secret bid. One that only people with jets filled with money and power could participate in.

He scaled down the wall and lowered himself to the ground in a relatively bold way. Bold enough to catch eyes, but with enough menace to avoid weapons. Just like old times.

He scanned the crowd. A crowd reeking of Untitled energy– it wasn’t everyone, but a solid amount.

Though there was one who stood out the most.

Jason kept his hands in his pockets as he strode forwards. Hands in his pockets meant he had something to hide. Striding forwards with his chin slightly down, but his eyes fixed on one person, meant he had prey.

He loomed over the man. Close enough for him to feel Jason’s presence, but not to the point where they were touching. He spoke low, “Rumor has it you have some of the best Wings Gotham has to offer. Most of what I’m seeing here, I could find in Metropolis or New York.”

The monster of a man didn’t flinch, but he did shift and turn his head to Jason. Good. “What typa wings ya got?”

Jason smirked, in a way that didn’t reach his eyes and tilted his head while he stared through the man, “What makes you think I have any?”

“Whadarya, a cop? Everyone has wings, and I swear if–”

“What if, I told you mine were ripped away slowly. Feather by feather. Skin from bone. Bone from my very being until I was left nothing but a husk of who I used to be. Go ahead. Try to kill me. Though, believe me, you’ve never fought a man who’s already dead.”

The man’s eyebrows deepened, “Stay for the real show. It starts in thirty minutes, after all the wannabes leave.”

Jason slipped back into the shadows without a word. He tracked Bruce and Dick opening cages, and the Angels fly into and out of the shadows. It was a slow process to make sure no one noticed, though they were making good progress. To the point where there were only three cages they hadn’t gotten to by the time the 30 minutes were up.

There was the sound of gunshots as the man he was talking to earlier held a gun to the air and stalked to the center of the room, withering vulture wings visible. “Scram! Or the ceiling won’t be the only thing with bulletholes in it.” Just to prove his point, vulture wings grabbed the nearest person and shot them in the head.

There was the sound of wings rustling the air as the uninvited guests left. Followed by a couple more gunshots.

Vulture Wings turned back to the remaining crowd, “Well well well, my friends, you’ve just made it to the afterparty, and should I tell you, you’re in for a real treat tonight.” the room erupted into cheers, but died down as soon as Vulture Wings put his hand up. “Now, Now. Before I show you the Good I’ve got stalked up, I’ll be giving you a disclaimer. This one, is not for sale.” a rumble of Boos chimed throughout the basement, “Hold on! Hold on! You’ll all get something out of this. Donny! Bring out the feathers! And Tony! You know your que.” Donny brought four bags to Vulture Man, “Now, we all know our dear Guardian Angels of Gotham. Of Bruce Wayne and his Protectors Wings. And of Dick Grayson and his Virtues Wings. Though, there’s another Guardian Angel. One who’s wings we’ve never seen. There are certain people who theorize that the little one is just a late bloomer, or that he’s not an Angel so to stick with branding he keeps his wings hidden.” Vulture Wings let out a laugh and unzipped one of the duffles, pulling out a singular, pristine white feather. One that seemed to have an ethereal glow to it. “Boy were they wrong.”

There was the screeching of old hinges being unlocked above them. Something– someone was being lowered from the loft.

A Seraphim.

Angel Jason.

He was hanging by his arms, and his legs were bare. All broken and bruised. His wings were next to bare. Most of The feathers had been plucked off, leaving a spare few that were stained red with blood. Two sets of the broken bare wings were curled in to shield his body and face. The last set were hanging at a painfully unnatural angle.

“No. No! ” He couldn’t pin down the emotion in Angel Dick’s cry. Rage? Fear? Grief? Vengance ?

Doesn’t matter, because either way, all hell broke loose.

All the Tainted Wings started lunging for the duffle bags filled with feathers, taking down anyone who got in their way.

Angel Bruce was busy trying to make sure the duffles didn’t end up in the wrong hands, while Angel Dick was trying to make it to Angel Jason, but kept getting pulled back anyone with Tainted wings who were also trying to get to the Seraphim.

Jason had to get to him. He-he promised Angel Bruce, He he couldn’t let an Angel die.

Jason summoned his All-Blades, and began slashing and stabbing, with only one thing in mind.

How could they have seen something so holy and defiled it?

He could feel his soul burn up with every Tainted Wing he banished, like a fire that was slowly simmering out, but he couldn’t make himself care. If he had to lose his soul in order to save an Angel , someone who’s soul was probably worth trillions of his, he would do it. He would do it in a heartbeat.

Suddenly, Angel Jason jerked down.

The rope he was hanging from was fraying.

Jason’s eyes snapped to Dick, who already had his grapple out and was flinging himself towards the Angel. But he was bodyslammed off of his trajectory. Angel Dick was surrounded by Tainted Wings, desparately trying to shake them loose so he could save his brother. And both Bruces were occupied too.

And Jason… Jason wouldn’t make it to him in time.

He watched as the rope snapped. He watched as the Seraphim fell, seemingly in slow motion. He heard a shout come from Dick, though he wasn’t sure which one.

He was sure everything had frozen when Jay made contact with the ground.

An Angel had fallen.

Something had slammed into Jason’s head hard, and for a second, he didn’t see the broken wings of an angel. He saw the tattered yellow cape of a Robin. He saw a face that was tinged blue with Hypothermia. A mouth filling with blood from a punctured rib. A neck bleeding out. A Lamb to the slaughter curling in on himself. A doll.

Jason thrusted his Blade into a stomach, as he got back onto his shaky legs.

A fallen Angel.

Angel Dick rushed to the Seraphim. Mercilessly taking out anyone who was in his way. Jason took out anyone who got too close to the pair.

Angel Dick cradled Angel Jason in his arms. “Jason… Jason, can you, can you stay awake for me? Please?” Jason knew he was gone, deep in his being, but Angel Dick continued, “Please, Jason. You can… just rant to me about that one story? Like you always do. The one… what was his name, Icarus? It was Icarus right? And spring? It was spring when he fell. It’s not spring right now. And you don’t have– why would anyone have wings made of wax, that’s just stupid. And whoever wrote that story was dumb, because obviously the higher up you go, the colder it gets, so the wax wouldn’t melt, it would’ve frozen and gotten hard. Jason.” Dick shook him and one of his wings stopped veiling his face, “Jason. It’s not spring. You don’t have wings of wax, your–your wings are mine, and- and my wings are yours. You’re my wings. And you can’t– Jason! You asshole, wake up!” Dick smacked his face but it didn’t do anything, “You promised. You promised we could fly together after– after you told Bruce. You promised we’d fly together, and I promised I would teach you. If you can’t fly then I can’t. I can’t. If you’re not next to me, I’m not going to fly. I can’t fly. Don’t you understand? You’re my wings. I can’t fly without my wings.”

Jason realized no one was attacking them anymore. Which was a good thing because he was pretty sure if he stabbed one more Tainted Wing, his soul would completely disappear.

He felt his knees go limp and his head spin.

Dick Grayson, the last Flying Grayson, a man who’s feet were probably in the air more often than they were on the ground– something that had to be true across the multiverse, because if it wasn’t that wasn’t Dick Grayson– couldn’t fly because his brother couldn’t. Because it wasn’t Dick’s wing’s that were his soul, it was his family. His family was his soul. His family was his wings. And he couldn’t fly without his wings.

A pair of hands grabbed his face and it took him a moment to piece together that they belonged to Dick. His brother. He immediately rested his forehead into the crook of his kneck, trust be damned. Or whatever complicated feelings that ranged between them, be damned.

Everthing turned white around them, and he was pretty sure he had passed out, until a voice spoke.

A very familiar voice.

“You have mastered the All-Blades?”

Jason could feel the very blades in question retract back into his soul as he turned his head so he could confirm who he was speaking with, with his eyes, “Oh. Hi Talia. Yes.”

And then he passed out.

#jason todd #batman #batfam #dc comics #red hood #dick grayson #tim drake #stephanie brown #wings au #robin jason todd #alternate universe #dimensional travel

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draziris · 3 months

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Debt

• Aemond Targaryen x female!Lucerys Velaryon •

[The only certainty Aemond Targaryen had, after losing his eye and claiming Vhagar, was that the exchange wasn't fair. Perhaps it was even his mother's nerves calming down or him still being the center of attention after the ambush he was caught in. But years after his nephews left for Dragon Stone with his sister, Aemond was certain that his anger wouldn't fade or be extinguished. Not until he made her pay for the suffering she had caused him. And now, he counted the days until the moment arrived, when he would take from her what was most precious to her.]

[Disclaimer: Mature content, violence, slightly dark!Aemond]

• Hello! This is my first fanfic post on Tumblr and in English. I usually post stories on Wattpad in Portuguese — with the same name — and decided to expand to a new language. I hope you enjoy it. I plan to post more stories here. This fanfic is about an alternative version of Lucemond — with Lucerys being a woman; the characters have different ages from the original work — we don't want any crimes here — Lucille is eighteen years old and Aemond is twenty-two. •

It was an obsession. Aemond knew it, yet he couldn't stop the thoughts that grew with each passing day. The hatred. The resentment. His face was marked forever, destined to be covered by an eyepatch that would conceal his shame until his last days. He trained for years, became one of the finest swordsmen in Westeros, tamed the largest dragon in the world, and yet, he would never be a whole man without his eye.

He thought that when she left, his problems would leave with her. His resentments would vanish, and his pain would heal. But that wasn't what happened. His hatred and bitterness grew, and with them, the desire for revenge. Deep down, he couldn't accept how his father never defended him, how he, like most of his family, sided with those bastards.

Every time he saw himself in the mirror, and gazed into the sapphire stone in his eye, he remembered that night. He remembered the pain. He remembered her. The cursed bastard who caused this.

The object of his hatred. Lucille Velaryon.

Lucille could barely recall King's Landing. Perhaps because she had left at a very young age, or perhaps because the events leading up to her move to Dragonstone were… tumultuous. Yet here she was again, not for the desired reason, and certainly not with a warm reception. Her mother and Daemon seemed disappointed when no one greeted them, and they asked Jace to accompany his sister to the quarters where she would stay.

As they walked through the corridors, Lucille vaguely remembered the stairs, some statues, and with those details, memories of her childhood flooded back. She remembered the times when Jacaerys and Aegon included her in their games, especially when it came to playing pranks on Aemond.

Aemond. She swallowed hard. If there was one wish she could make at that moment, it would be to not cross paths with her uncle.

Surely he hadn't forgotten the events of seven years ago, and who was responsible for it. The responsible one.

"See," Jace exclaimed, pointing to a dragon statue. "It's still the same. You can see the crack from when we bumped into it and knocked it to the ground. Otto almost killed us that day, remember?"

"Yes," Lucille weakly smiled.

Jace's expression changed as he noticed his sister's demeanor. "Don't worry about today, Lucy. Everything will be sorted out. You are the true heir to Driftmark."

Lucy let out an ironic laugh, looking at her brother as they walked. "You don't even believe that yourself."

"Stop it," Jace complained.

"We are…" Lucy said to her brother exasperatedly, pausing for a moment to lower her voice. "bastards, Jace."

Jacaerys looked at her with a disappointed look and then shrugged, continuing to walk. Lucille quickened her pace to keep up with him.

"Bastards or not, Lord Corlys chose you to be the successor of Driftmark," Jace said confidently. "You should be grateful and embrace your destiny."

Lucy averted her gaze, saying nothing more. When they reached the end of the corridor, Jacaerys nodded for them to go to the door leading to the training ground. Her brother always enjoyed fights. Lucille tried for a few years, but gave up when she realized she had more skill with the bow and arrow than with the sword.

They approached the stairs leading outside and descended the steps. Jace seemed very excited to watch the fights up close. However, the elder brother headed toward the nearby gate and pointed to the huge hole in the wall. He turned to Lucille with a convincing expression, and she rolled her eyes.

"See, I told you it would still be here," Jace said proudly. "It was the day I thought I could wield Sir Criston's Morningstar."

"You almost lost your head that day," Lucy laughed.

Jacaerys nodded, joining her to look at the weapons laid out on a table. Lucille glanced sideways, noticing some Court members looking at them and whispering. She quickly looked ahead, feeling dejected.

"What's your problem?" Jace asked, holding a sword.

"They're staring at us," she said, moving closer to her brother. "They wouldn't question my right to Driftmark's inheritance if I looked more like Laenor… And less like Sir Harwin Strong."

"Let them talk," Jace said, looking his sister in the eyes. In the next moment, they heard the clash of something strong enough to echo across the training ground. Jacaerys called his sister to come closer, and they both went to the small crowd that had formed.

Lucille peeked behind her brother at the fight unfolding. The first thing that caught her attention was the tall platinum-haired youth wielding a sword and shield. It wasn't difficult to identify a Targaryen when you saw one. However, she didn't expect to be surprised to find out it wasn't Aegon, but Aemond.

Her uncle and her brother often teased him for being clumsy and relatively shorter than Aegon. She didn't imagine he had changed so much over the years. She felt discomfort as she observed the eyepatch on his face, covering enough so that his eye couldn't be seen, and leaving the scar, which extended from above his eyebrow to his cheek, exposed.

His movements seemed perfectly calculated as he dodged Sir Criston Cole's attacks. A gasp escaped Velaryon's lips when Criston hit Aemond's shield harder, forcing him to release the object. Now he only had his sword to defend himself. Criston advanced once more, and again, until Aemond finally found a chance to dodge and gain an advantage, aiming the sword directly at the man's throat.

Applause spread across the field as Sir Criston congratulated him. "This way, you'll be ready to win the tournament."

"I don't give a shit about tournaments," he said, lowering his sword. And then, as if he had known they were there all along, he turned to Lucy and Jace. "Nephews. Came to train?"

Before Jace could say anything, the gates were opened, and the commotion that had gathered to watch the fight now shifted their attention to the arrival of the carriage. However, Lucy couldn't avert her gaze so quickly, not when Aemond was staring at her with such intensity that she swore he would plunge that sword into her throat at any moment.

Neither of them blinked. Neither of them looked away.

Jacaerys pulled his sister's hand, finally snapping her out of her trance and making her follow him. Vaemond Velaryon had arrived.

In the next day, Rhaenyra and Daemon were already waiting for them in the Throne Room when they arrived. Jace had taken her to her room first, so she could settle in, and then they went to the place where the Council would take place. The entire Court was positioned along the hall, and it didn't take long for her to catch sight of three platinum-haired heads up ahead. If Aemond was the one with the eyepatch, then Aegon and Helaena were the others.

She gave a small smile to her aunt when their gazes met, and then her smile faded as she noticed the looks from Aegon and Aemond. She joined her brother and her parents, along with her cousins. Daemon laid his hand on her shoulder, a subtle form of support. Daemon Targaryen might not be her biological father, but he cared for her and Jace as if he were.

"Although it is the fervent hope of this court that Lord Corlys Velaryon survives his injuries, we gather here with the daunting task of dealing with the succession of Driftmark." Otto said, seated on the throne. "As Hand, I speak with the voice of the King on this and all other matters. The Crown will now hear petitions."

A small buzz spread through the hall, and Lucy withdrew a bit, leaning on her mother.

"Sir Vaemond of House Velaryon."

The man walked to the center of the hall, standing facing the throne. He gave a disdainful look to Rhaenyra and her children before speaking. He then glanced at Alicent and Otto Hightower.

"My Queen. My Lord Hand." He cleared his throat. "The history of our noble houses extends beyond the Seven Kingdoms to the days of Old Valyria. Since House Targaryen ruled the skies, House Velaryon ruled the seas. When Doom fell upon Valyria, our houses became the last of their kind. Our ancestors came to this new land, knowing that if they failed, it would mean the end of their lineages and their names."

Lucille raised her gaze to the man, who still had his gaze forward.

"I have spent my entire life on Driftmark defending my brother's seat. I am Lord Corlys's closest relative, his own blood. The true and irreproachable blood of House Velaryon runs through my veins."

"As it does with my children, descendants of Laenor Velaryon." Rhaenyra interjected quickly, drawing the Court's attention. Lucille watched Sir Vaemond turn to them, with a look that could set fire if he could. "If you cared so much about your house's blood, Sir Vaemond, you wouldn't be so bold as to supplant its rightful heir. No, you only speak for yourself and your own ambition."

"You will have the chance to make your own petition, Princess Rhaenyra. Do Sir Vaemond the courtesy of allowing him to be heard." Alicent intervened.

"What do you know about Velaryon blood, princess?" Vaemond narrowed his eyes at Rhaenyra. "I could cut my veins and show you, and you still wouldn't recognize it. This is about the future and survival of my house, not yours."

He looked at Lucille with irritation before turning back to the front.

"My Queen, my Lord Hand. This is a matter of blood, not ambition. I place the continuation of my house's survival and my lineage above all else. I humbly stand before you as the successor to my brother... the Lord of Driftmark and Lord of the Tides."

"Thank you, Sir Vaemond." Otto said, then looked to Rhaenyra. "Princess Rhaenyra, now you may speak for your daughter, Lucille Velaryon."

Rhaenyra stroked her daughter's back, where her hand rested, one last time and then walked to where Sir Vaemond stood.

"If I wish to grace this farce with any response, I will begin by reminding the court that nearly 20 years ago, on this very same..."

Her speech was interrupted by the sound of the royal gates, making the entire Court, including Rhaenyra, turn to see who had arrived. Lucille gasped when she saw her grandfather balancing on a cane, with a mask on his face. She didn't remember him being so debilitated. She looked at Daemon, and he nodded at her. He knew something.

"King Viserys of House Targaryen, the First of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm." One of the guards announced.

All eyes watched the king descend the stairs leading to the Royal Court and slowly walk toward the throne. He paused for a moment, looking at his daughter, and then continued walking. He said something to Otto that Lucy couldn't understand, and then began to ascend the stairs to his throne. As he started to climb the stairs with difficulty, his crown fell.

Everyone watched as Prince Daemon approached and picked up the object, helping his brother up the steps and then placing the crown back on his king's head. He then returned to his family.

"I must... admit... my confusion." Viserys breathed heavily. "I fail to understand why petitions are being heard on an established succession. The only one present... who can offer a sharper insight into Lord Corlys's wishes is Princess Rhaenys."

Rhaenys Targaryen smiled at her cousin, taking a step forward. "Indeed, Your Grace."

Rhaenys walked to the center of the hall.

"It has always been my husband's will that Driftmark pass through Sir Laenor to his true daughter... Lucille Velaryon. His mind never wavered. Nor did my support for him." She said, then looked at Rhaenyra before continuing. "In fact, Princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire to marry her son Jace to Lord Corlys's granddaughter, Baela. A proposal with which I wholeheartedly agree."

Viserys nodded.

"Well... the matter is settled. Again. Through this meeting, I reaffirm Princess Lucille of House Velaryon as the heir to Driftmark, the Throne of Driftwood, and the next Lady of the Tides."

"You break the law... and centuries of tradition to install your daughter as heir. Yet, you dare to tell me... who deserves to inherit the Velaryon name." He spits, anger in his voice. "No. I will not allow it."

"Allow?" The king repeats. "Do not forget yourself, Vaemond."

"She is not a true Velaryon, and certainly not a niece of mine." He shouts, pointing at Lucille, who shrinks. "Not to mention the absurdity of naming a woman as the new Lord of Driftmark."

"Lucille is my legitimate granddaughter." Viserys syllables. "And you... are but the second son of Driftmark."

"You... may run your house as you see fit... but you will not decide the future of mine." He says angrily. "My house survived the Doom and a thousand tribulations. And damn the gods... I will not see the end of it because of this..."

He then gave Lucille a sarcastic look. The Velaryon averted her gaze, staring at the floor. She then heard Daemon whisper behind her: "Say it."

"Your sons... are bastards! And she... is... a whore." He snarls.

Lucille feels her heart pounding as she gasps along with the crowd. Shame takes over her gaze, especially when she meets the green eyes. Aegon holds back a laugh, while Aemond watches them with a restrained smile. Mockery. Ridicule.

She feels a hand touch her shoulder as Daemon passes behind her, disappearing into the crowd.

Viserys rises with difficulty and pulls a dagger from his waist. "I... will tear out your tongue for this."

Vaemond didn't have time to respond or defend himself. In a second, his body was on the floor, part of his head separated, rolling across the marble. Lucille stifles a scream, hiding her face on her brother's shoulder. Jace doesn't move. Everyone emits a scream in the hall, and the guards draw their swords.

"Disarm him!" Otto Hightower shouts.

"There's no need." Daemon defends, sheathing his sword and stepping aside.

The king gasps, falling onto his throne.

"Call the maesters!" Alicent orders, running to her husband.

A body on the floor. A king on the brink of death. The circus for those who wished for the kingdom's fall was set. The princess lifts her gaze once again to where the green were. Helaena still covers her ears with her hands, and Aegon watches the scene. But Aemond is no longer there.

"Let's go, Lucy." Jace says in her ear, holding her shoulders and guiding her out of the hall along with the others.

Lucille didn't want to face her family. Not after the words spoken against her and her brother by Vaemond Velaryon. She knew what the courtiers whispered about her. She had known since she was seven. Since the night Aemond conquered Vhagar and hurled insults at her and her brother. They'll die in the fire like their father, he said. What Aemond perhaps didn't remember was that, like him, Lucille and Jacaerys were of the fire. The blood of Velaryon might not flow through their veins, but Targaryen blood certainly did.

She reminded him of that on the same night when she took one of his eyes.

However, they were no longer children. Accusations about her legitimacy now weighed much more, especially as a woman. Her existence was doubly an affront to the Crown. She knew that. Only the blind were incapable of seeing it.

She was finishing getting ready when Jace knocked on her door, announcing that they should go to the private dining room.

"Help me with this necklace," she asked when he entered the room. "Our father gave it to me. It was Aunt Laena's."

A delicate necklace with a seahorse pendant. Her father had given her the necklace on the day her sister had passed away. According to him, a part of Laena Velaryon would exist in her as long as she wore it.

"Don't mind the words spoken by Vaemond today," Jace said, trying to calm his sister. "No one took him very seriously."

Lucille sighed. "You know that's not true."

"Lucy..."

"They are not blind, Jace," she said, turning to her brother. "For Vaemond to have the courage to question the succession of Driftmark, he would have to have more support than just his pride. It's only a matter of time before there is retaliation for his death."

"Daemon would never allow it."

"I don't wish to rule over a sea of blood," she said, sighing. "I just wish I had been born legitimate... And a man. If our father had named Joffrey as his successor, perhaps there wouldn't be so many questions."

"Our mother will be the next to sit on the Iron Throne," Jace reminded her. "Being a woman or a man is no longer a question. Our father chose you as his successor, and Lord Corlys agreed with his choice. There's nothing more to question."

Jacaerys smiled and held her hand. "I will always be by your side, little sister."

Lucille smiled back at him and nodded. The siblings walked out of the room, heading to where the family dinner would be served.

When they arrived in the private dining room, they found everyone except the king. Aegon and Aemond were talking in one corner, while Alicent, Otto, Helaena, Rhaena, and Baela were seated at the table, and Rhaenyra and Daemon were conversing in another corner of the room. Servants came, placing dishes on the table. When their presence was noticed, Rhaena and Baela stood up, joining their cousins.

"How are you?" Rhaena asked, holding Lucille's hand.

"I'm fine," she said softly. "Did anyone try to kill each other?"

"Our father seems to be keeping himself in check since earlier," Baela said, opening a small smile. "Our uncle didn't act right by uttering those words to you and Jace. My father would never allow the honor of our family to be slandered like that."

"They will comment on the incident for some time, but they will soon forget," Rhaena said. "It's important to show some strength from time to time."

Lucille nodded, though she didn't agree with violence. Over Rhaena's shoulder, she could perceive the Targaryen brothers' gazes on them. She didn't look directly at them, but she felt they were watching her.

"The king is coming," a guard announced.

Everyone headed to the table, taking their seats. On one side, Otto and Alicent sat next to Rhaenyra and Daemon, separated by the space where the king's chair would be. Facing them were Helaena, Aegon, Jacaerys, and Baela. At one end, Rhaena and Lucille, and at the other, Aemond.

A terrible place, she thought when her uncle sat facing her. She couldn't help but meet his gaze as he sat down. The only eye he had left burning steadily on her figure.

She averted, looking to her mother. In the next moment, the presence of Viserys was announced, and he entered, seated in his chair, carried by four guards. The banquet began, and the king gave a speech. Lucille watched him with pity. Pity because even on the brink, Viserys still believed that his family could be saved.

"How good it is... to see all of you tonight... together," the king said with difficulty.

"A prayer before we begin?" Alicent suggested, and the king agreed. "May the Mother smile upon this gathering with love. May the Smith mend the bonds that have been broken for too long...

As Alicent recited her prayer with closed eyes, the table accompanied her. Aegon drank some of his wine, oblivious to the customs. Lucille kept her hands together on the table, but her eyes roamed over everyone there, until they settled on Aemond, who kept his eye closed, in a quiet posture. A strange sensation ran through her body. Lucille couldn't explain if it was fear or admiration.

"And for Vaemond Velaryon, may the gods grant him rest," Alicent said finally, and Lucille could hear a small sigh of laughter from her stepfather.

"This is an occasion for celebration, it seems. My grandson, Jace, will marry his cousin, Baela, further strengthening the bond between our houses. A toast to the young prince... and his bride," Viserys raised his glass, followed by the others.

"Hear, hear," Daemon cheered. "This isn't the only marriage we'll have ahead of us."

Curious glances turned to the Targaryen prince. He moved his gaze to Rhaenyra and then to Lucille.

"Lucille has received a marriage proposal from the North. Lord Cregan Stark proposed her hand in marriage, to unite both houses in a lasting union," Rhaenyra commented. "We chose to accept the proposal. Lucille agreed."

"Now, the North," Viserys said with a smile on his face. "I heard they have huge wolves as their companions. And that the cold is so intense they wear fur coats all the time."

Lucille nodded with a smile. "They also have great warriors. Lord Cregan Stark is a formidable warrior, I've heard."

"It must reek of dog," Aegon murmured against his cup, low enough for only his siblings to hear.

"A toast to my granddaughter, Lucille, may her rule in Driftmark be prosperous, and her marriage to Lord Cregan Stark be beneficial to both houses," Viserys raised his cup again.

Everyone toasted, except for Aegon... And Aemond. Her eyes meet his again, and she can feel the tension in her body. He holds his cup on the table, his jaw tensed. She doesn't know what he's thinking or feeling, but she knows it's not something good.

When he looks away, she does the same.

"You'll do just fine," Rhaena celebrates quietly beside her, and Lucille forces a smile.

"It warms my heart and saddens me at the same time to see these faces around the table. The most beloved faces to me in the whole world... but so distant from each other... in recent years," Viserys begins to say, rising from his seat. He takes off his mask, revealing a face taken over by his illness. An eye missing. Lucille holds her breath for a moment. "My own face... is no longer beautiful... if it ever was. But tonight... I wish for you to see me... as I am. Not just a king... but your father. Your brother. Your husband... and your grandfather. One who may not be able to... walk among you much longer."

He pauses, and Lucille meets her brother's gaze and then the table. Viserys continues:

"Let's not hold any more ill feelings in our hearts. The crown cannot remain strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided. But set aside your grievances. If not for the sake of the crown... then for the sake of this old man who loves you all so dearly."

The king says and then sits back down, putting on his mask again. After a minute of silence, Lucille watches her mother rise with her cup.

"I wish to raise my glass to Your Grace, the Queen," she says, looking at Alicent. "I love my father. But I must admit that no one has been... more faithfully by his side than his good wife."

Alicent looks at her attentively, trying to understand her words.

"She cared for him with... unwavering devotion, love, and honor. And for that, she has my gratitude... and my apologies," she says finally, sitting back down.

"Your graciousness moves me deeply, princess," Alicent says. "We are both mothers... and we love our children. We have more in common than we sometimes allow. I raise my glass to you... and to your house. You will be a beautiful queen."

A moment of affection takes over the table, and the two seem to understand each other after a long time. The momentary softness is abruptly interrupted minutes later when Jacaerys stands up abruptly, banging his fist on the table.

"Jace," Lucille says, surprised.

She watches Aemond suddenly stand up, while Aegon returns to his seat. Tension crosses the two princes. Jace then turns to his sister and gives her a sympathetic smile before raising his cup.

"To Prince Aegon and... Prince Aemond," Jace nods towards Aemond. "We haven't seen each other in years, but I have good memories of our shared youth. And as men, I hope we can still be friends and allies. To your health and that of your family, dear uncles."

He gives Aegon a little punch on the shoulder, who looks bored on his chair. "To you as well."

"Beware the beast beneath the boards," Helaena murmurs.

"Very well done, my boy," Viserys tells his grandson.

Suddenly, Helaena stands up.

"I'd like to toast to Baela and Lucy. They will be getting married soon," she says. "It's not that bad. Most of the time, he just ignores you... except sometimes when he's drunk."

Daemon lets out a muffled laugh. Lucille directs a strained smile at her aunt. Poor Helaena.

"Let's hear some music," Viserys announces.

The musicians start playing, making the atmosphere more relaxed. Jace whispers something in Baela's ear and then gets up, walking over to Helaena's chair and extending his hand to her. The princess accepts without hesitation, being led to the center of the dining room. The two dance joyfully.

Although happy for Jace's marriage to Baela, Lucille can't help but think how nice it would be if her brother had married Helaena. Her aunt would be much happier. She watches them dance for a while and doesn't notice her uncle's presence by her side.

"Care to dance?" Aegon asks in her ear, extending his hand.

She accepts out of politeness, being led to where Jacaerys and Helaena were. Lucille notices her brother's hateful look in their direction. Aegon seems to be having fun.

"You've grown, niece," he taunts in her ear, holding her waist.

"We all have, uncle," Lucille replies.

"No. I mean, in another way," he smiles. "In the way only a woman can."

She shifts uncomfortably in his grasp as he guides her during the dance.

"Lord Stark, huh?" he says. "I heard the northerners are wild. Especially in bed."

"I don't pay attention to rumors."

"You should," he smiles, leaning closer to her ear. "I can teach you a few things before you get married."

A loud noise echoes through the room, cutting off the music. Lucille turns to the table, watching Aemond leaning menacingly over it. When the gazes turn to him, he stands up, holding his cup. His gaze is fixed on the dancing couples. She also notices that her grandfather was no longer there.

"Final tribute," he says. "To the health of my nephews: Jace... Lucille... and Joffrey. Each of them beautiful, wise... hm... strong."

"Aemond," Alicent scolds him.

"Come... let's raise our cups to these three..." He pauses, smiling ironically at Lucille. "Strong boys."

"I dare you to say that again," Jace threatens, breaking free from Helaena.

"Why? It was just a compliment," Aemond smiles scornfully. "Don't you consider yourself strong?"

Before Lucille could react to stop her brother, Jacaerys lunged at Aemond, hitting him with a punch.

"Jace!" Lucille and Rhaenyra shouted at the same time.

Just as Lucille was about to run to her brother, Aegon grabbed her wrist, but she quickly pulled away, stepping on his foot. The prince grunted in pain. Chaos ensued.

"Why would you say such a thing in front of these people?" Alicent scolded her son, approaching him.

"I was merely expressing how proud I am of my family, mother," Aemond said in a sarcastic tone, then turned to Jace and Lucille. "Hmm, although it seems my nephews aren't as proud of theirs."

Lucille struggled to keep Jace in the same place.

"Tell me, dear niece, is being strong such a vile adjective?" Aemond mocked.

"Don't speak to my sister!" Jace yelled.

"Why?" Aemond growled, turning to Jace. "Your sister has an outstanding debt."

"I have no debt," Lucille replied.

"Shall I refresh your memory?"

Jace lunged again and Daemon was the one who stood in front of him this time. With just a gesture, the Dragon Prince pushed his stepson aside, calling for silence. Rhaenyra hurried to send them to their chambers.

The last thing Lucille saw before leaving the dining room with her brother and cousins was Aemond's burning gaze upon them.

It would be a long stay, she thought.

Lucille couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned in her bed, consumed by anxiety. Flashes of the previous day played in her mind. Vaemond Velaryon's retaliation, her grandfather's speech, Aegon's jests, and Aemond's words. Not just his words, but also his looks. She hadn't expected her uncle to have gotten over losing an eye so easily, but she hadn't imagined he would resent her so much either.

They were children, after all, and Lucille was protecting her brother. He himself had said that night: it was a fair trade. An eye for a dragon.

But years later, she realized that nothing had changed.

Sometimes she remembered the past. How the four—Jace, Aegon, Aemond, and she—were close before juvenile squabbles began. Before doubts about her legitimacy arose. But that time was gone.

She sighed, turning over one last time before getting up. She wouldn't be able to sleep. She walked around the room, looking for something to distract herself. There was nothing. Maybe she could find a book in the library, one that would occupy her until sleep came.

She grabbed a coat, covering her body that had only a nightgown, and opened her room door slowly. The corridor was dark, lit by a few candle points. She slinked along the walls, heading to the library and quickly leaving it. She carried two books in one arm.

As she held the doorknob of her room, she felt a sudden approach and a cold object against her throat, making her freeze.

"Jace—" She choked, thinking of calling her brother's name, who was in the room next door.

"Your brother isn't here now." Aemond. "I am. Come in."

She swallowed hard. Her uncle wouldn't kill her, would he? Her mother would burn him and the whole castle if he did.

She obeyed, entering the room without turning once. She heard him close and lock the door. She suppressed a cry in her throat. When she gathered courage and turned around, Aemond was still with his back turned, covered by a dark blue cape.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, gathering the courage that remained.

"Lord Cregan Stark, hm?" He asked irritably, turning.

Lucille gasped at the sight before her. Aemond was without his eye patch. The sapphire blue shone intensely against the strands of moonlight streaming through his window, glinting. His face looked much more threatening, partially obscured by the hood, and his gaze never seemed so intense as it did now. She observed the scar that crossed his eye. A scar she caused.

"You won't marry him," he said.

"How?" She asked, confused.

"I'm not a man to say the same thing twice." He said, advancing a step. She backed away. He smiled, seeing how it affected her. "Do you fear me, niece?"

"N-No."

Lie.

"Why are you here?" She asked, glancing quickly at the dagger he carried.

"I came to settle accounts." He replied. "You owe me."

"I don't owe you anything." She said in a moment of courage.

A mistake.

In the next moment, her body was pressed against the wall of her room, Aemond's grip on her throat, his face close to hers. "Don't you?"

Lucille was paralyzed.

"Look at my face," he said impatiently.

The princess gasped heavily. Her eyes wandered from the lilac iris to the sapphire stone he sported. His breath was against her face, his breathing heavy with anger. She never imagined him so close in this way. He was taller than her, which made her keep her neck raised under his hand. He applied a slight pressure against her flesh, making her feel a strange sensation of warmth. God, what was happening? If anyone saw them like this...

"What do you see?" He asked, impatiently.

"Aemond..." She gasped when he slid his thumb along her neck, testing the territory. Blue eyes against lilac.

When did he become so attractive?

She wanted to push the thought out of her head, but it was difficult when, for the first time, she was so close to a man who wasn't her brother. So close to a man who was once her old friend and who had grown so fast. A man who had been haunting her thoughts since the moment she took his eye. A man who looked at her like no one ever had and who pursued her relentlessly. She considered herself crazy for a moment.

"You've been mine since you took my eye," he whispered threateningly against her lips. "Not some Northern Lord's."

Lucille gasped as she felt him getting closer, accommodating his knee between her legs. She sucked in air, feeling like she would faint right there. "A-Aemond, I'm engaged..."

"Then say it, say you belong to Lord Cregan Stark..." He whispered in her ear, moving her leg. She sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. Aemond's other hand held her waist possessively, pulling her slightly to him, forcing her body to have friction against his leg. His lips found her neck. God, she thought, he was making everything difficult. "Say you want Lord Stark."

"Aemond..." She whispered in a pleading tone. She wanted him to stop, but at the same time, she didn't want him to.

He descended his kisses to the valley of her breasts, only covered by the thin nightgown. He pulled her coat down with some impatience. She shivered with the sudden cold. His hands returned to her waist, pulling her in a jerk. She wore nothing to cover her intimacy, which made contact with his leg hallucinating. She had never felt anything like it.

"Say it." He teased, kissing her over her nightgown.

She closed her eyes tightly and took a deep breath, leaning her back against the wall. Nothing would have prepared her for what was to come.

Aemond knelt down and lifted her nightgown, raising one of her legs over his shoulder. She gasped as she felt his lips kissing there.

"Aemond!" She squeaked.

He squeezed her raised thigh and her hip in a silent way to ask her to be quiet. She obeyed, not wanting to be caught like this. How would she explain the fact that Aemond Targaryen was in her room so late at night? Her thoughts were silenced by his lips on her intimacy, moving against her folds, finding a sensitive spot.

Lucille jolted, making him release a puff of air against her, probably laughing at her innocence. In the next moment, she felt his tongue working. He explored every corner of her, every fold, every taste. The princess couldn't help but seek support on the Targaryen's head, covered by her silk nightgown. She moaned softly, feeling the sensations he caused her.

At one point, he hit what seemed to be her sensitive spot. She moaned a bit louder, making him tighten his grip on her hands and move faster. She gasped. "A-Aemond, I..."

She murmured desperate, disconnected words, feeling pleasure increasing more and more. He wouldn't stop. She didn't want him to stop. But she didn't know where it would lead. She closed her eyes tightly, gripping the silver strands beneath her fingers, and when the climax hit her, violently, she slumped forward, being held by him.

He stood up, licking his lips. His face was intoxicated, lips wet. She had done this. She gasped, still limp, being held by him against the wall.

"Do you know what Lord Stark would do now?" He whispered in her ear. "He would throw you on that bed… Rip off your clothes… And fuck you like a whore."

"Aemond…" She gasped.

He moved his left hand to the middle of her legs, sneaking two fingers into her intimate part and thrusting them inside her. The princess clutched his garment covering his arm, closing her eyes and breathing heavily. "Say it. Say you desire Cregan Stark."

His fingers bent, forming a hook, and began to move inside her, in a back and forth motion in the spongy area. He increased his speed. With his other hand, he grabbed her nape, pulling the princess into a kiss.

She moaned under his touch, and just when she thought that sensation would come again, he stopped. The feeling as intensely as it began, ceased.

"Aemond." Lucille grumbled.

She leaned her face closer to his, and he recoiled. He was having fun, she realized. He was enjoying playing with the sensations he caused her, with the temptation he caused her, and with the limit she could reach.

She knew she had reached a point of no return.

"Say you're mine." He ordered. "Not Cregan Stark's. Not any other man's. Say you're mine, and I'll make you my wife."

She parted her lips, reality hitting her chest once again. Her family would never allow this. Rhaenyra and Daemon were content with her engagement to Lord Stark, and she doubted Alicent Hightower would agree to a possible union between her son and Rhaenyra's daughter.

"No man will be able to satisfy you the way I will," he said, sliding his hand to the side of her chest, sneaking his thumb under her breast. "We are dragons. We are meant to burn."

Burn. Well, that's what she felt. As Aemond touched her body in a way she never imagined, she felt her body catch fire. A heat she never imagined feeling radiated from within her, and she didn't know if she could control it for much longer.

"I thought I was just a bastard to you," she whispered, testing the boundaries of provocation.

"You are," he replied, tucking a strand of hair from her face. "But you're mine."

"I was never yours, Aemond."

His thumb slid to the nipple covered by the nightgown, and she gasped softly. "You've been mine since the moment you took out my eye." He moved his other hand to her neck, lifting her chin with his thumb. "Since the moment you occupied my thoughts every day after your departure and since the moment you set foot in King's Landing. After that night, I realized that Vhagar wasn't the only thing I wanted to claim."

"What was it?" She asked, looking directly into his eye. She already knew the answer.

"You."

Lucille breathed slowly, her chest rising and falling. Aemond drew closer, pressing his body against hers until his chin rested on the top of her head. His fingers caressed her back, trailing down to her covered buttocks, and he placed his hands there, pressing her body against his. Lucille gasped when she felt something rigid between his legs. He moved one of his hands to her thigh, lifting her leg to encircle his hip, and then brushed his body against hers, slowly.

"Aemond…" She breathed softly against his neck, feeling the sensations it caused her.

"Do you feel that? It's what you do to me, Lucy," he murmured, nibbling at the top of her ear. "My Lucy…"

He increased the movements, making her moan a little louder, feeling the pressure of his pants against her sensitive spot. She rested her arms on his shoulders, feeling the warmth of his body as he incessantly called her name.

"Gods be good…" She pleaded. "Please, Aemond…"

She denied with her head, her eyes closed.

"Say."

He grabbed her face, caressing her cheek, moving his thumb to her lips.

"Say it."

"Yours…" She whispered, opening her eyes. "Make me yours, Aemond."

The prince didn't need to hear it twice. He grabbed the princess by her thighs and lifted her, carrying her to the bed. When he threw her onto the sheets, he got between her legs and pulled out the dagger that was in his belt. Lucille gasped, not having time to understand what was happening. He used the steel to tear the nightgown in half, revealing her body to him.

She shivered as the night breeze caressed her naked body, being watched by Aemond's gaze. The one-eyed prince slid his hand over her belly, moving up to reach the middle of her breasts. He teased her, taking his time to finally touch where she desired. Then he squeezed one of her breasts and brought his mouth to the other, giving it the attention it deserved.

"Mm… Ah!" She moaned, feeling his tongue tease her hardened nipple. She could feel something hard between Aemond's legs as he leaned over her. "Aemond… It's not fair. I'm the only one naked."

"In a hurry, are we?" He teased, trailing his kisses down to her belly as he slid off the bed.

She watched as he stood up, removing the cloak covering his body, revealing the white linen shirt and leather pants. He undid the knots of his shirt and tore it off his body, throwing it to the floor. Then he removed his boots with some impatience, giving attention to his belt next. Lucille nibbled her lip, knowing what would come next.

She observed his chest, not so strong, but defined. The result of years of training. She saw him unfasten his belt and open his pants, pulling them down to finally be free. Lucille's breath caught in her throat as she glanced down at the prince's legs, widening her eyes in the process. She didn't know how other men were, but definitely, Aemond should be considered… Well-endowed.

"Like what you see?" He taunted, returning to the bed.

She averted her gaze, feeling her cheeks burn. No, she thought, it's not the behavior of a dragon. She turned her eyes back to him, meeting the lilac gaze burning with desire, while his jewel seemed to glimmer more than ever.

"Yes." She swallowed her words. "And you, do you like what you see, uncle?"

His response came when Aemond grabbed her hip, pulling her towards him. He lifted her legs, kissing her ankle. "I should warn you of the reason I made you so… satisfied, earlier." He teased, stroking her legs, descending to her thighs. "I don't intend to be gentle."

Lucille gasped, staring at him.

"I've imagined this moment for many years…" He teased. "At times, I imagined my hand around your neck, squeezing the air out of your lungs just to see you beg."

She said nothing.

"Other times, I pictured you kneeling, begging for my forgiveness…"

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, uncle…"

Aemond chuckled. He then spread his legs, pulling Lucille closer, brushing against their intimacies. The princess gasped, clutching the sheets beside her, propping herself up on her forearms. "Don't feel sorry, niece. I'm not done yet."

He held the base of his member, rubbing it against her intimacy. Lucille gasped, feeling the heat of the contact. Gods. There was no turning back, she realized. "Aemond…"

"This will hurt… A little." He mocked, kneeling. One of his hands held the back of her knee, spreading her further. "But don't worry, sweet Lucy… It doesn't compare to the pain of losing an eye."

Lucille gasped, and the next moment, she felt the pressure of Aemond's member pushing into her entrance. She stifled a scream, feeling a burning sensation. "Calm down, it'll pass soon." He whispered. His other hand reached her clit, making continuous movements. "You'll feel very good."

"Aemond… It hurts…" She gasped. Suddenly, this didn't seem like such a good idea anymore.

He then stopped, only stimulating her. He kissed her breasts, indulging in them once again. Lucille breathed heavily, feeling good again. "My sweet, sweet Lucy…"

He stimulated her until she felt again the wave of pleasure that had hit her before, and then advanced, taking her completely. Lucille Velaryon was his. Only his.

"Do you want to know what I also imagined? What I dreamed?" He asked in her ear, grabbing her hips and moving slowly, feeling her tighten around him.

"What?" She said.

"You moaning my name…" He whispered. "Scratching my back… Saying you were mine… While I fucked you mercilessly."

She gasped, feeling him move faster.

"I imagined this so many times… I fucked you in my bed… On the dining table… On that damn Iron Throne… And even on my dragon's back." One of Aemond's hands slid up to her breast, pinching her nipple. "I made you scream with pleasure so that all of Westeros could know that you were mine."

"Aemond…" She gasped, pulling the prince's neck into a kiss. He reciprocated, groaning in the process and kissing her aggressively. Their tongues danced in their mouths, and nothing seemed to matter more than that moment of pleasure.

Aemond's movements became intense, aggressive. The princess gasped between kisses, struggling not to moan so loudly that her brother would wake up or someone would knock on her door. He held her hips tightly as he took her, and Lucille was sure she would wake up with bruises, but that didn't matter now.

Nothing mattered now.

Their lips parted, and he rested his forehead against hers, maintaining eye contact. Their mouths remained slightly open, breathing heavily, uttering obscenities. "Mine, mine…" Aemond growled. He took one of his hands to her neck, applying some pressure while still thrusting into her. "There's no turning back, Lucille."

"I-I know…" She whimpered, feeling pleasure rise through her belly. God, she accepted everything.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He snarled, burying his face in her neck. His grip intensified, and he continued until he heard her scream his name, trembling her body and her legs around him. He didn't think twice before holding her waist firmly and releasing inside her. He felt Lucille's insides contract in spasms, pulling him. "You take me so well."

"Aemond…" She murmured, closing her eyes from exhaustion, oblivious to anything else.

Aemond smiled, proud. He watched her sweaty body, illuminated by the moonlight, with her chest rising and falling from the recent effort. He observed the dark curls scattered over the sheet, the red cheeks, and the lashes sprinkled with tears of pleasure. A true mess. A mess he caused. And Aemond Targaryen loved chaos.

A sadistic satisfaction crossed his mind when he imagined his relatives' expressions when they found out what had happened. When they had to accept the fact that Lucille Velaryon was his. When they had to see her become his lady and the mother of his child.

His. His. His.

"Aemond…" She whispered, calling him.

"I'm here." He murmured, lying beside her. His finger caressed her lips. "I'll always be."

An eye for a dragon. A virtue for another. Lucille Velaryon was his, forever.

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond x reader #aemond #hotd #romance #mature #hotd aemond #fanfic #oneshot #ewan mitchell #aemond fanfiction #dark aemond targaryen #smut #aemond smut #house of the dragon #aemond x oc #aemond x lucerys #aemond x fem!reader

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chirp-a-chirp · 1 year

Text

Court of Darkness Character Analysis - Lance Ira

Lance: The Prince of Ember and Flame

Sin: Wrath

Story Tropes Represented: Bad boy with a good heart; lone wolf; misunderstood loner; parent loss

Folks who might be interested? @aide-falls @abugwritesstuff @shinonometrash @sallylovessweets @jaysquid @voltagefandomproject @marsipanic

Book one Lance spoilers below. Also, this is just my interpretation/analysis for Lance. It may differ from yours—let me know your thoughts!

Any direct quotes from Lance’s book one or events are in italics.

…

Analysis: Lance is hot. Really hot.

Analysis complete.

OK, jokes aside…who is Lance—a lone wolf, a resentful prince, a truant who scares most people away?

At his core, Lance is man defined by loss—his mother, his best friend Lutz, the freedom to live the life he wants—and the accompanying anger that comes with it. Lance does not exhibit the classic physical signs of anger—flailing fists, face turning red, punching walls. He will not turn wild with rage in most circumstances. Lance would not want to give his father the pleasure of his anger manifesting like this. These overt signs of wrath are a reminder of Ira’s ancient magic that Lance despises so much. Instead, Lance’s wrath is internal, directed at himself.

When we first meet Lance in his book one, loss and grief consume him—he blames himself for not noticing his mother’s illness, for Lutz taking the fatal blow from the automata meant for him. This grief keeps him stuck, idling in frustration and resentment. The deaths of his mother and best friend burn like embers within the ashes of hate he has for Ira. Those embers smolder, burning just as bright as the fire that created them. When Lance encounters Lutz’s brother on Colde, he is confronted by the past he runs from. He says to himself: What have I done these many years? Why have I burned with such loathing and frustration? And for what? To what end?

Of the seven Saligian princes, Lance is the most resentful of his royal status. He describes that status, of [being] bound by the kingdom of your birth… [as] a heap of unicorn dung…shackled to a specific path. He was born a commoner, grew up in humble circumstances, unaware of his royal blood for years. His father, King Addis, is not in his life until his mother passes and Lance is old enough to be a useful tool. Lance has no patience for governmental intrigues, being a political pawn, or becoming a symbol of his country; he makes these thoughts painfully transparent to those around him. It is perhaps why Lance has the most modern sensibilities of all the princes. His value of individualism (for himself and others that seek it) is at odds with monarchy at large.

Lance is a fierce protector of freedom. Every prince but Lance has a familiar—an animal with a dependent bond with that prince, bound to him by servile magic. Lance has a wolf companion—Grushia—whom he is close with through a natural bond, one without magic. They are free to leave when they choose, but both remain close to the other. It is that freedom of choice that makes their bond strong.

In Lance’s book one, when he brings food and supplies to the boy Christop (instead of going to class), he remarks to himself:

There are more important things in this world than learning how to be a king. For now, I’d rather focus on protecting those bound by their circumstances in life.

Lance himself appears listless and reckless but is purposeful with his intentions for those he cares for. When watching over Christoph in his book one, Lance thinks—There’s no such thing as too careful when it comes to Chris; I don’t wish for him to become as I have. He ought to live as he likes, not be imprisoned because of how he came to be. He is someone who will defend those with limited choices who cannot defend themselves (Christop being pursued by Irithium), or those who do not have an advocate in their corner (Iran people living in the countryside). Academy lessons with Lou and political showboating with King Addis have little purpose to Lance—practical experience, meaningful connections with people, will show Lance the value of being a future king.

There are Saligian princes like Guy that are princes for their kingdom—for Guy, what is best for Avari is best for everyone; individuals can be sacrificed for the good of the country. Lance is a prince of the people—further, he is of the people. While princes like Roy and Rio make a conscious effort to listen to and understand their subjects, Lance has directly experienced the life of a commoner, having lived their everyday plight.

Lance will not be a king for the kingdom and the nobility running it. He scorns Iran politics for prioritizing military might over advancements in healing and helping Iran’s rural communities, resulting in the deaths of his loved ones. This hatred is so strong that it burns beyond recognition. In the Unbreakable event story, Lance describes his feelings towards Ira, and the entire military megalomaniac foundation upon which the country is built on, as so consuming that he’d burned himself to cinders out of concern for his country—all that is left is sympathy for the people that remain in Ira and the memories of those that he has lost. In his book one, Lance’s anger at Ira is equally powerful—One by one this kingdom called Ira has stolen everything important to me. What else must it take from me before it’s satisfied.

But, just as fire can burn and overwhelm, it can also provide warmth and light the way. The individuals who have been closest to Lance in his life—his mother, Lutz, Christop, MC, Zenu—he describes as sources of optimism and warmth. Lots of light imagery is used to describe these people within Lance’s book one and various event stories. The MC reminds Lance of his mother—a woman who’s smile is comforting like a nap taken beneath the dappled sunlight of a forest; in Lance’s Magic ending, he describes MC as ethereally beautiful and so, so bright; while alive, Lutz was like the sun in miniature.

Lance turned away from sources of light after his mother’s and Lutz’s deaths—to invite light was to invite heartbreak and darkness if that light were taken away. But, his relationship with the MC changes that perspective.

The MC is relentless in her spirit and optimism—tragedy, difficulties, failures do not stop her; they fuel her drive to succeed. This approach is fundamentally different to how Lance has, up until meeting her, approached life for many years. And given their shared background—the loss of a parent, being forced to remain on Colde—it gives Lance pause. Lance cannot easily dismiss the MC given their shared experiences.

When Lance is with the MC, his memories of his mother and Lutz become more positive. He describes their memories, in one event, as points of light, carrying hope that there is good left in his kingdom. While their memories still provoke anger, they also serve as fuel steeling Lance’s resolve, lighting his path, carrying him to conviction to change Ira for their sake.

The MC provides a balm to Lance’s soul, an energy that nurtures, encourages, and empowers. She guides Lance forward, a steady bright presence that urges him to think beyond his past and into the future. The MC and Lance have among the most egalitarian relationships in the game—they describe each other as accomplices, partners, compatriots. They seek one another’s company equally, being open and transparent about their feelings, whether good or bad. This equality happens, in part, because Lance gets to know MC as a person before he knows of her powers. More than any other consort path, Lance allows for MC to truly grieve for the loss of her parents—Lance understands that the death of a beloved parent is not something easily forgotten or dismissed; it lingers, festers, unless that grief is expressed.

When Lance is with the MC, a different fire consumes him. He describes his love her for as an ever growing thing, one where he melts at her smile, his heart burning for her, every part of him feeling as if on fire. In his magic ending, he says to love is to risk suffering; but to be loved is the great happiness there is. It is also one of the few consort book one endings (maybe the only one) where the MC is given something tangible to represent his love for her—a promise ring—perhaps an unconscious callback to the Iran quartz talisman his mother gave him as a child. Pretty words are not enough to show his love to those he cares for. He is someone who comes off as callous and cold, but probe deeper and you’ll find a man with layers of hidden kindness, a person dedicated to helping others, someone who, ultimately, becomes motivated by the memory of those he has lost.

He is Lance—the man of ember and flame.

#court of darkness #court of darkness voltage #otome game #lance ira #tropes #character analysis #character archetypes #voltage otome #voltage games #it took me a bit due to various distractions in real life but finally the first CoD character analysis is done!

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cipher-zoo · 1 year

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for that "weirdest one piece ships" thing... I wanna see how it'd be possible for Rosinante/Iceburg. They're pretty close in age, but not much else XD

Sorry for the delay!

Work got in the way, but I finally managed to find some time and write this, and damn!

I must say, I am so thankful for this, because I truly do think that this ship kinda works.

In fact, the more I wrote, the more I started to love it!

Hopefully someone here agrees with me, because if I end up being the only one who ships them now, I will cry!

Okay, let's say this happened when Rosinante was around 22 years old. Still a relatively fresh-faced Marine, but definitely trusted by the higher ups. He was, after all, trained by Sengoku himself. Now at this point, a good seven years have passed since Tom got arrested and Iceburg is not yet as present in the World Government's minds, as he is later in his life. But they do know about him, and Rosinante is tasked to go to Water 7 and find out whether Iceburg is planning anything "stupid" to avenge his former mentor.

Water 7 at that time is a bit different from how we get to know it during the arc. After all, Iceburg is far away from becoming the mayor and hasn't united the different ship companies as Gally-La yet. There's a lot of competition (not always clean) and a lot less unity in the city.

Water 7 at that time is a bit different form how we get to know it during the arc. After all Iceburg is far away from becoming the mayor and hasn't united the different ship companies as Gally-La yet. There's a lot of competition (not always clean) and a lot less unity in the city.

Iceburg works in one of the many companies, he is well enough liked but his slightly awkward demeanor and status as prior apprentice of an outcast, earns him the patronizing smiles and comments of his elders.

Iceburg works in one of the many companies, he is well enough liked but his slightly awkward demenour and status as prior apprentice of an outcasts, earns him the patronizing smiles and comments of his elders.

Rosinante applies to work in the same company to get close to Iceburg, but it is soon noticeable that his clumsiness doesn't lend itself too well to working as a shipwright. He gets the job, but he isn't taken particularly serious by his coworkers, and maybe that plays directly into his cards.

Because Iceburg, being the kindhearted man he is, decides to take Rosinante under his wing.

It doesn't take long for the two to become friends, and Rosinante even forgets that this is a mission at one point. Most nights he finds himself sitting next to Iceburg on the deck of whatever ship they are working on, looking out into the city or up to the stars, and talk about their lives and future and what their dreams entail. Rosinante is vague, they both are aware of that, but Iceburg has the decency not to pressure him into revealing more than he wants to. Iceburg on the other hand tells Rosinante about his mentors dream, the dream that now lives in him. A united city strong enough to hold its own in the chaos that is the Grand Line. Rosinante feels himself reminded of his father. A man who wanted so desperately for his world and the world of humans to be united that it ruined their family. But different from his brother, Rosinante never hated his father and he can't hate Iceburg either. There is no reason to do so, even if the world government claims that he could become dangerous.

Their friendship deepens over the next few weeks, until Iceburg invites Rosinante to a small Pub. In a dingy backroom, Iceburg speaks to his hand full of friends, his first supporters. They talk about how they can change this city, how they can make it a better place, and how the future could look if they were only able to unite everyone. Do-gooders, the lot of them. Iceburg is so different from Doflamingo, Rosinante can't help but compare the two. Doffy cares about his followers, cares about him, he is aware of that, but there's always a hierarchy, always a pecking order. But in Iceburg's case it is different. It appears to Rosinante that Iceburg treats the world with a deep level of respect. Respect that he offers both his supporters and his adversaries. And it is at this moment, in a dingy backroom, where Iceburg talks and laughs and plans, surrounded by people that love him and people he loves, that Rosinante falls for him.

It is a strange feeling. In fact, a feeling Rosinante has never experienced before. It's exciting, and it is scary, and Rosinante can't hide it as well as he thinks he does. It happens a few days later. It's a rare day off for the two of them, and a hot day on top of that. They are a little outside the city, Iceburg is swimming, while Rosinante sits on a small rock, enjoying the warm sun. It comes, like things always come in situations like this. Iceburg, spurred on by youthful happiness and unaware of Rosinante incapability to swim, plus the younger man into the ocean, when he has the chance.

It doesn't take him too long to notice that Rosinante doesn't break the surface, when he does, so he dives back down and pulls the other man out of the ocean. Which leads to the two of them lying, drenched and out of breath but laughing (maybe a bit as a reaction to shock) on the beach. Rosinante admits that he is a devilfruit user and notices that Iceburg gets angry. He asks if the older man is angry because he hasn't told him earlier, and Iceburg nods, but not because he thought that Rosinante owed him this information. He laments that at any point during the last months Rosinante could have fallen into one of the canals and by the time someone would have noticed that he wasn't able to get out on his own, things could have already been too late.

Iceburg finally confesses that he has grown very fond of his friend, and the thought of anything happening to him pained him dearly. Rosinante makes the first step, or rather Iceburg lets him take the first step, and the two kiss for the first time. Somewhere outside of water 7, drenched to the bone on a warm beach.

Over the next few months they grow closer and closer and make good use of Rosinante's devilfruit power. But Rosinante's newfound relationship doesn't go unnoticed. His reports to Sengoku get more and more spars. And when he calls the older man, he often only states that Iceburg isn't a danger right now. Sengoku knows what is going on, a father often has a feeling for those things, after all, and he tries to give Rosinante as much time with Iceburg, he really does. Because he wants his foster son to be happy. He wants him to have a life outside his work. But then Flevance gets burned to the ground and Doflamingo starts making bigger moves in the North, and Sengoku can't do without Rosinante anymore.

It breaks Rosinante's heart, when he leaves Water 7 in the dead of night. Without saying goodbye to anyone. He only leaves a letter to Iceburg. He doesn't confess his true identity, because he is scared that Iceburg could assume that his feelings were nothing but a scam, and that is simply not true. Rosinante really did love him. But love doesn't stop the world from moving, and it doesn't stop bad people from doing bad things. So he writes his letter. He tells Iceburg in it, that he truly hopes that he can fulfill his dream and that he has some business to attend to, he tells him that he doesn't expect him to wait for him but that he'll be back as soon as possible. Then he leaves for the North Blue.

He never returns.

#one piece #crack ship #donquixote corazon #donquixote rosinante #iceburg #water 7 #rosinante x iceburg #op ship #I actually started shipping this so hard while writing #please if anyone wants to work with this do so!#I need more content of this ship

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beesmygod · 1 year

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DORK SAULS: the hallway leading to gwyn's tomb is lined by statues of silver knights. granted that there are approximately seven million silver knight statues in anor londo, do you think the knights of that hallway are specifically meant to parallel the white staircase that silver knights walk across leading to the kiln of the first flame?

gwyn had two sets of knights. the silver knights in anor londo and the black knights that gwyn took with him to stave off the demons of chaos, rekindle the first flame, and in places where he really doesnt want anyone to touch anything.

its hard to see because they're sideways and only an insane person would notice, but the knights in the kiln of the first flame hallway are black knights. we can tell because they have a slightly different helmet horn shape. and their popped collar.

the black knights were once silver knights charred during the battle against the newly formed flame of chaos.

black knight shield description:

"Shield of the Black Knights that wander Lordan. A flowing canal is chiseled deeply into its face." "Long ago, the black knights faced the chaos demons, and were charred black, but their shields became highly resistant to fire."

gwyn took the same lads he took to the chaos demon fight to rekindle the first flame but got them all crisped up in the end.

black knight armor description:

"The knights followed Lord Gwyn when he departed to link the Fire but they were burned to ashes in the newly kindled flame, wandering the world as disembodied spirits ever after."

sucks! the ones IN lordran are not those spirits. those guys just didn't make the cut to get annihilated instantly through no fault of their own. they're left in places that make for good gameplay, but like, also they're sort of (99% coincidentally) in places that make for interesting lore readings: one in undead burg before you fight the taurus demon is also outside havel's cell. the one in the undead parish tower guards the firekeeper's soul. two of them seem to have been dispatched to figure out what the fuck happened at the asylum and brought the priscilla's doll with them to dump. the one in darkroot basin is near havel's prison AND the entrance to new londo, where the true nature of humanity can be uncovered.......and the last two are near vamos and his evil anti-god shield with his face on it

effigy shield description:

"Frightful occult shield. Defends against divine weapons and lightning.In an ill-fated plot to destroy the very gods, the followers of the occult once attempted to steal the power of Gravelord Nito, the first of the dead."

havel was part of that plot. lets not open this can of worms. those are the bare facts.

anyway: back to the hallway. i think the number of silver knight statues is intended to impart the once grand and massive scale of anor londo. the army we see is a tiny fraction of what they managed to make statues of. now it's eerily empty. there's a lot of debate over what the white hallway before the first kiln is supposed to be. a void i guess. who knows. this didnt tell us anything in the end. sorry.

#dark souls #lore

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kal-culator · 2 years

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Idk if you still doing the submas x sky stuff but uhhh— I'm quite curious, does the twin ever goes to Homespace? Y'know where we always be spawned everytime we enter the game? What's their opinion about the Homespace? The seven portals of the realms are there and all, Eden where the kiddos sacrifice themself daily are fricking there also. What are you/submas twin thoughts? :o

I know I haven't openly draw or talk about Submas and Sky here but honestly they're still resting in my brain. (Also mainly because I'm trying to subtly steer myself away from Pokémon around now because I get salty at myself and it's not really a good feeling)

Anyways! Brainrot below, let's answer some of these really wanted questions;

In my own personal Subway in the Sky au, Ingo fell into Homespace first while Emmet fell in Daylight Prairie. But both of them have been there! They visited the home space at a later date in their adventure through the small praying statue thing (?)

——

Ingo feels like Homespace, like it's name suggests, is the place with the most feeling of being a 'Home'. He knows that Sky Kids doesn't necessarily all live in the Homespace 24/7, but he finds that place to be more comforting and the calmest. A small, quiet, safe yet lively environment. Fitting of the name.

Emmet thinks while the place is quite small compared to literally everywhere else in the Kingdom, when he sees the kids calling it Home and seems content with it, he really doesn't have any personal opinion on the place. While yes he still look at them as children, some have developed quite a mature mentality. He doesn't need to scold them about their options in picking home.

——

Unfortunately about the portals, Ingo and Emmet can't see it open the very first time other than the portal to Isle! (Just like how a moth would) as they're forced to explore each of the realm individually, visit each elder, and gain access to the portal at home space.

When they later figure out how it works, they're fascinated about it! It's literally a fast travel system that the kids uses to explore the world! (They were questioning the mechanics of it but gave up considering that so far, everything that exists in the Kingdom doesn't seem to go according to the laws of science from their world).

——

Oh I've talked a lot about the Twins'opinions on Eden and I'll keep standing by this opinion; their mix of feelings are swirling around anger, pity, confusion.

They're angry because why would these kids be attracted to something so dangerous to the point that many would confess it's their true purpose and calling? Even if God exist in that world, what kind of God would let children experience such things, repetitively?

They pity the children because no matter how many times they try to explain about the danger of death and how unhealthy the mindscape that they'll be fine even if they just got hit by a red rock, the children would just tilt their head in confusion and told them that they're, in fact, okay and have been doing so for dozens of times now. (He noticed some children actually agree with what he said, but they really aren't that much different. Still thinking that death is nothing to be worried about and pain is nothing big for them)

And the confusion is mainly because.. Well.. Why? Why would these kids have this weird calling that wherever they go, whenever they ask for directions from the bottom of their heart, it'll always lead to a place with such danger and smell of death? What happened to the fallen Kingdom, ruins left by their ancestors and the lack of living being but the presence of ghosts?

Anyways thank u for coming to my pep talk. I hope this answers most of the questions you have uwu

#havent write this long for a while #prince does ask #anonymous #sky cotl #sky children of the light #subway in the sky au #submas

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theninthdoor · 1 year

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rosé || how idols perceive her; tarot reading

✦ General impression she gives off before any direct interaction:

cards: queen of wands, wheel of fortune, four of cups (the star)

Idols definitely see Rosé as someone who was born to be a star. She's charismatic, talented and confident, and may always present herself as a friendly and outgoing individual. She's not intimidated by being in the spotlight, and others surely recognize the passion she has for her career and for the whole world of entertainment that she's in. I should also mention that idols do tend to view her as someone who's very attractive, dresses well and takes good care of herself. Basically, she's always looking good whenever they see her, so they often associate her with great looks. Besides that, her name and image always carry the reminder of her big career achievements and the skills that led her up that path. At the same time, though, there's still a feeling that luck was also involved in getting her where she's at right now. She was able to get into a big company, have a successful debut and become a top star in the industry - as that is not possible for just any idol, they consider her one of the lucky few. And, because she is a top star, they don't find her all that easy to approach, despite her looking quite friendly. This can be either due to the way her company handles public appearances (during award shows or music shows, for example), because of the strict way the industry goes about seniority or status, or because idols know that being close to other famous people isn't always easy and can bring a lot of trouble (ie. backlash from the public or the fans).

✦ How idols perceive her after a first direct interaction:

cards: knight of wands, eight of pentacles, six of wands (eight of cups)

Very, very sociable and vivacious. They see her as someone who's always on the move, talking with people and playing around, filling the room with strong her energy. Rosé definitely knows how to bring out her charm and make herself noticed, however, at times, it might come off as too strong for some people. Really, she doesn't seem the type to be afraid of approaching a stranger or the type to ignore/reject someone who tries to approach her. It just may happen that she's too direct and energetic, and people are taken aback. Additionally, and similarly to what we saw before, idols still perceive her to be very passionate and serious about her career - perhaps even more than they did before meeting her. She may share a lot of her knowledge and interests with them or simply talk a lot about music/songwriting/performing/etc. So, with this, they understand very clearly that this is a very big focus for her and it's something that she truly dedicates herself to all the time. On the other hand, but still along the lines of what they perceived her to be like before interacting with her directly, they recognize that she's not someone who's available to build immediate friendships/connections with just about anyone. Not only does she have a lot going on in her life, but they also get the sense that she lives in a completely different reality from them (mainly because of where she's at in her career at the moment). It would just be very hard to connect with her, given all that her life involves.

✦ What is Rosé's overall reputation among idols:

cards: six of swords, seven of swords (four of pentacles), queen of pentacles

Someone who has reached a stable place in her career, with lots of abundance. They know that Rosé has already made a lot of money and is living well; her position in the industry is pretty safe (as in, she's not gonna lose everything if she doesn't put out music for a year or rejects a job); and she's also well connected, not only in South Korea, but internationally as well. Relating to that too, she is well known for being a foreigner/for being born outside of SK. Her social media posts (written in english), her public speeches and style may emphasize this a lot, and so there's never a chance for them forget about it. Or, alternatively, she could also be known for travelling a lot more than others and always being around foreigners. Finally, Rosé also has the reputation of someone who hides a lot of things or is kept hidden/separated from the rest of them. Everything about her is so well managed that they don't even hear whispers about her in the halls; everything is kept under lock and key by herself/her company.

(Disclaimer: all readings are alleged and for entertainment purposes only.)

#kpop #kpop tarot #blackpink #blackpink tarot #blackpink rosé #rosé #rosé tarot reading #rosé park #roseanne park

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youllallriseintheink · 1 year

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The Infiltrator, chapter 5: The Beautiful World

Sorry for the delay on this, guys. I wrote a couple chapters ahead of time, so expect the next three to come up only a few days apart.

---

N left Maxie’s office feeling at least somewhat more confident than before. It was frustrating that no one seemed to know what the plan was, but now he knew where the admins worked and what they did. And Lysandre was apparently the project director. Surely he had to know what was up to do his job. And unlike Cyrus and Ghetsis, he didn’t seem too dangerous. He was a logical next step.

N went to stage 3 and knocked on the door to Lysandre’s office. No response. He used his key card, cracked open the door, and saw Lysandre facing a wall on which a video conference of about twenty different rich and important-looking people were projected.

“It’s settled, then,” Lysandre said, “I’m taking Kalos and the South half of Galar, but that’s all. I’ll be splitting my time between managing them and helping Giovanni with his other projects, and I don’t want to bite off more than I can chew. I plan on doing a perfect job, after all. Now, what about Unova? How should it be split amongst the nine Unovan governors we have signed on?”

“I don’t care which piece of land I’m in charge of,” a surly faced Unovan man interjected. “I keep asking you: how many workers will I have?”

“Gentlemen, there will be plenty of workers for everyone. Giovanni and I are still discussing the optimal number, but whatever number we come to, we’ll leave spares. Now, if we could please stay on topic...”

As the various board members talked amongst themselves about how to split up Unova, N took a good look at Lysandre and his office. The office walls, aside from the one the conference was projected onto, were covered in neat blueprints and paintings of various architectural and technological wonders. The office itself was spacious, perfectly clean, and stylishly decorated with green tropical plants in vases of gray rock. Lysandre himself, while not especially handsome, was equally well-put together and looked about twenty years old. He looked so much younger than he sounded that N almost failed to notice that he was at least seven feet tall.

N thought it wisest to close the door and wait for the meeting to be over. After twenty minutes, the door opened.

“Oh? What brings you here?” Lysandre asked congenially.

“I’m N, king of Team Plasma,” N started, remembering what Maxie had said about emphasizing his status. “I’m here from a universe where I won. I’m the new go-fer. I was hoping you could-”

“A go-fer?” Lysandre chuckled. “Come with me.”

Lysandre led N into his office. “I don’t know what Giovanni told you, but there’s no way that he intends to keep a person like you as a menial worker. Do you drink?”

“Uh, no,” N replied.

“Very well, then,” Lysandre said, pouring N a cranberry juice and handing it to him. “I have to say, I didn’t think you’d be joining us, N. I’ve researched a lot of great people for my job here, and you were one of them. You seemed like you could be a great leader. I’ve heard that you’re smart, well-spoken, have an eye for architecture and were loved by almost everyone you met, but so many people seem to think that you’re the renegade prince type. A ‘man of the people.’ What a pity that would have been. So, what brought you here to join Rainbow Rocket?”

N took a sip of his juice to give himself a moment to think. Would it be better to pretend to be what Lysandre wanted him to be, or to stick with what had worked so far? He went with the latter. “When I went through with my plan, people and Pokémon were separated. And once Pokémon had no reason to care about people...”

The smile fell from Lysandre’s face. “I see. You’re here because you had no choice. Well, I hope you’ll find yourself agreeing with our ideals. And what brings you to my office?”

“All the admins have to do a loyalty test. I just have to look into your mind for a few minutes using a Pokémon.” N took the espeon out onto Lysandre’s desk. “Can we do this now?”

“Of course,” Lysandre said, stroking the creature with his massive fingers.

“Alright. It’ll start when I touch the espeon,” N said.

Just as it had happened every time before, N touched the espeon and woke up in the orb pool.

He has just the kind of youthful beauty we’ll preserve, came Lysandre’s thoughts. Hopefully he’ll be one of the management class- nothing can convince me he didn’t have a hand in designing the Team Plasma Castle. But otherwise, I’ll spare him as a worker.

N didn’t know what any of that meant, but it didn’t sound good. “Show me what the plan is,” N said to orb pool. “And what he means by ‘sparing me.’”

A snake of orbs constructed itself and headed for N’s forehead.

---

In the darkened base of the Ultimate Weapon, Lysnadre stood, waiting for the power of the two legendaries to finish its transmission into the machine. A burst of red and black energy shot up through the poisoned flower’s stem, ascending through the ceiling. A faint chorus of screams sounded from above. Then, a blue and white energy shot through the flower’s roots, and Lysandre immediately felt his skin smooth out and his joints loosen. It was done. Almost anti-climactic, in a way. But at long last, he’d set the world on course for a beautiful future.

“Should we release the legendaries?” Xerosic asked. Lysandre looked over to him. It was strange seeing Xerosic with a full head of hair and skin that wasn’t discoloured from the chemical solutions he’d worked with for decades.

“No,” Lysandre replied, “They don’t share our ideals. They could lash out at us. Perhaps even undo some of our work. You know that preserving solution I had you prepare copious amounts of?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Mix in some sedatives and pour it into their chambers. Just in case we have to use the weapon again someday.”

“Will do,” Xerosic said as he left to fulfill his orders. In the meantime, it was time for Lysandre to travel to the Lumiose bunker and give his team the okay to come out. He emerged from the lab and called out his gyarados, upon which he rode towards Lumiose city. It was hour-long flight, and peaceful, until he saw the smoke.

Lysandre wasn’t even at the edge of the city when he realized the source of the fires: dozens of car crashes had occurred due to the drivers’ sudden death. He guided his gyarados down to put out a shop with hydro pump, then moved on to put out a Pokémon Center. Then, to his horror, he caught sight of the burning Prism Tower.

The fire of Prism Tower had eaten through an entire leg of its base, leaving it leaning precariously and with much of its metal twisted and disfigured by heat. After having it put out the fire, Lysandre had gyarados land. From the ground, he could smell the death and burning in the air. The streets were littered with the corpses of people and Pokémon. Lysandre took a few steps back, and his foot hit something hairy and unmoving. He turned around to see what it was: a dead furfrou with heart-clipped locks, tethered by leash to a dead man.

Lysandre heard Prism Tower collapse behind him. He couldn’t bring himself to look.

Suddenly, a portal opened before Lysandre and Giovanni stepped through it.

“Victory isn’t treating you too well, is it?” Giovanni said. “Don’t worry. That’s a very common thing for villains. If you come with me, I’ll take you to an unruined universe and tell you how we can do a more practical version of this. No burning buildings, no corpses.”

Lysandre barely registered Giovanni’s words before he caught sight of numerous grunts pouring out of a smoking Lysandre Café, the one in front wielding a fire extinguisher.

Lysandre ran over to them. “Is everyone alright?” Lysandre asked the group.

“Sure are, boss. The fire just started recently,” said a female grunt, wiping soot from her orange blazer. Though Lysandre couldn’t remember her name, he recognized her as the one who’d designed their uniforms. “What should we do now?” she asked

“Now,” Lysandre said, facing the destruction he’d caused, “we set to work creating the beautiful future.”

“Work? I thought this world would be just like the old one except that we won’t have to look at poor people.”

Did... did this grunt really think that she could go back to running her fast fashion line with no workers to staff it and no customers to fund it? Foolish. But no matter. Even if this grunt was an exception, money was a sign of brains, sense, and responsibility, and Lysandre knew he was leading humanity into the light now. Even if its beginnings looked a little ugly.

---

Two months had passed. It was a cold winter’s day, and Lysandre was stalking the halls of Lumiose’s power plant alongside Bryony and Celosia. There had been minor power outages over parts of Lumiose, and, as problems regularly did nowadays, it had fallen on him to fix it.

Lysandre worried about the future. Even now, in the cold winter months, the smell of the corpses that lined the halls was unavoidable. Getting his spoiled Team Flare grunts to move the cadavers was like pulling teeth, and without bug or bird Pokémon, their decay had been slow. Perhaps once the summer sun was upon them, the grunts would finally be willing to move on it. Of course, that was only one of their problems. Infrastructure had to be maintained. Food had to be grown. And while some members of Team Flare were willing to pitch in, others were disappointing him. They complained incessantly about the luxuries they no longer had and about the decaying landscape, and some had wasted weeks going back to their old lives as if the sheer force of their denial would bring the old world back.

After hours of searching, Lysandre found the keys to the power plant’s office on an important-looking corpse, found its computer’s password within its desk, and figured out what might have been the problem.

“Their forced draught fan was long overdue to be replaced. It was in the process of being shipped over when we wiped the slate clean.”

“What’s a forced draught fan?” Bryony asked.

“Yeah. And how do you replace one?” Celosia added.

“And how do you know that that’s the problem?”

“And what will we do for power if this isn’t it?”

“I don’t know,” Lysandre growled. It wasn’t their fault, but it was taking all his self-control not to scream at them. “We’re going to have to find out. Go to a trade school and look through their manuals. I’ll search the highways for the fan.”

The admins left without much more talk, and Lysandre slumped down in the office chair, eyes closed, tired. Though he was loathe to admit it, Lysandre missed the old world. Life had been so much easier and he’d had so much more energy and bandwidth when he’d had people to look after his home and garden, to drive him places, to chase people away when he didn’t feel like dealing with them, and a hundred other things he’d taken for granted. And he was sick of putting out fires all day for spoiled brats who were barely willing to take out their own garbage.

A blinding purple light appeared, forcing Lysandre to open his eyes.

It was Giovanni, emerging from a portal. Lysandre was stunned. The first time this had happened, he’d been so preoccupied by everything else going on that he’d barely registered it. He’d convinced himself it hadn’t happened at all.

“How did you get here?” Lysandre asked him.

“Inter-dimensional travel. That’s all you need to know,” Giovanni replied. “Tired of this yet? Step through the portal and it all goes away. You could go to a well-maintained mall, eat at a properly staffed restaurant, get your hair professionally cut, enjoy all the luxuries your money can buy.”

Lysandre stared at Giovanni a while, then shook his head. “If I left now, everything would fall apart. But my team has been waking up to what must be done. They will all wake up in time, and when they do, we’ll make Lumiose the most beautiful it’s ever been.”

Giovanni chuckled. “You’re, what, a hundred people? Two hundred? They could turn into the best workers the world’s ever seen and you still wouldn’t have the manpower to maintain Lumiose. And just think: the rest of the world is decaying no matter what you do. You’re going to get tired of this. It’s only a matter of time.”

With that, Giovanni disappeared back through the portal.

---

Time dragged on. The summer came and went, and with it came an underwhelming harvest. The second winter of the new world saw it quickly consumed along with the last of supplies found in groccery stores. That wasn’t what broke Lysandre’s spirit. He and his team were immortal. A few months of hunger would motivate them to farm smarter the next year. And his team was pulling together. The corpses were finally disposed of during the first summer. They’d even built a new prism tower, albeit a smaller one, representing their willingness to work and their capacity for rebirth.

What broke Lysandre’s heart was the decay. The once-beautiful streets of Lumiose, now with plantlife taking over the sidewalks, dislodged tiles in the streets, and rusting vehicles sitting abandoned. The abandoned buildings caked in dirt and strangled with ivy. Lawns and parks that resembled wild grasslands. Fountains filled with algae. It was truly the opposite of what he’d wanted. But he had to carry on.

The final insult began when one of his grunts complained to him that nothing in their gardens was growing and the fruit trees weren’t blooming. It had been late may at the time. Lysandre had dismissed it as the result of a late spring. But then June came and went, and nothing grew. It wasn’t a problem with the gardens, either- the ivy and overgrown lawns and even the wild areas remained as dead as they were in the coldest winters. The team demanded answers, of course. And orders.

“I don’t know why this is happening,” Lysandre admitted, “But I have a plan. We’ll use the Ultimate Weapon on our gardens to make the plants immortal.”

It took hours to move as many of their plants as possible into the bunker beneath Lysandre Café, but the flight back to Geosenge Town was short. It wasn’t until Lysandre tried to fire off the machine again that he realized something was amiss.

It wouldn’t fire. He opened up the pods of the legendaries to see what was wrong and found that they weren’t moving. He tapped on the glass. He drained the chambers of fluid. He even crawled into the chambers and opened their eyes. No response. In the midst of his team’s struggle to maintain civilization, Lysandre had neglected to consider what needs the two Pokémon might have. He’d never imagined that this could happen.

Xerneas and Yvetal were dead, rendering the ultimate weapon useless.

Lysandre collapsed to his knees and cried. What was he going to tell his team? That they’d just have to endure hunger until they found a way to get plants to grow again?

A portal appeared before Lysandre, and Giovanni stepped out. “Do you want to know why nothing is growing?” Giovanni asked.

Lysandre stood up and attempted to pull himself together, but Giovanni grew impatiant before he could reply.

“You killed all Pokémon in the world except your team’s. With no grass-types or bug-types, this was inevitable, and it won’t fix itself. There is nothing you can do to make this a decent place to live. Are you ready to hear what I have to offer?”

“I... I suppose it couldn’t hurt to hear you out.”

“My plan is a lot like yours, really. Simply put, I want to take over the world. And what better way to do that than buying whoever can be bought and brainwashing everyone else? You see, Lysandre, you and I can agree that little people get in the way. But you must see by now that they’re essential. I’m going to use the powers of legendary Pokémon to kill off about half the people on earth, brainwash almost everyone else to work for me, and leave their management to a group of people who are loyal to me. And then, we’ll make ourselves immortal and live like kings until we get bored and decide to take over the next universe for fun, and so on until the end of time. How does that sound?”

“Well... ambitious. Almost impossible. How will you achieve that?”

“Don’t worry about that. I’m going to recruit the best people in the multiverse at controlling legendaries and military conquest. But that brings us to you. Your team was legendary for its public image. You were meeting with movie stars and esteemed professors up until the very end. Heck, one of the elite four was openly a member of your team and kept her job. So, here’s what I’m proposing: your job will be to contact whoever in the world you think will be corrupt enough to sign onto my plan and competent enough to run a region of slaves. You could build an army of people who you think will best maintain the world’s beauty. Is that a deal?”

Lysandre thought for a moment. It seemed that this universe was truly ruined, and he could do nothing for his team. But this way, he could preserve and improve upon the beauty of numerous others. He stuck out his hand for Giovanni to shake. “I would like that very much.”

Giovanni shook his hand. “Excellent. Now let’s get you out of this mess.”

#pokemon #flare boss lysandre #pokemon n #rocket boss giovanni #xerosic #The Infiltrator #my fanfiction

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gayfrogs03 · 2 years

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There are two characters that I love in two different fandoms that the fandoms have labeled them as introverts when they are actually extroverts

Those characters are Nico di Angelo and Tim Drake-Wayne

Nico is an extrovert that loves being with people and talking, and hanging out but people have shown him time and time again that they don't want him around and him being around makes them uncomfortable. Because he doesn't want to make people uncomfortable and sees he not welcome he distances himself from them. So because of this the fandom has labeled him an introvert, when in reality he wants to be with people but knows people don't want to be with him

Not to mention Nico is shown over and over again to get himself and others really good allies by simply being nice and talking to people that others have outcasted or helping those who were wronged, Percy and Annabeth wouldn't have made it out of actual hell (can't spell, to lazy to figure it out) if Nico hadn't taken the time to talk to Bob, hang out with him and just generally be nice to him, Hestia says that Nico was the first one to notice her and talk to her in hundreds of years, we wouldn't have Hazel if it weren't for Nico (people say he was just trying to replace Bianca, but with how much he loved and respected both Bianca and Hazel I don't think that's true, I think he said what he meant, he thought she didn't deserve to be there and should have a second chance. I think think he loves and respects Hazel, but not as Bianca's replacement, but as Hazel herself.), the way he and Reyna grew so close while both of them are actively trying not to, he had the respect of basically all of Camp Jupiter even was allowed in the meetings

He himself was an ally the whole time, never stopped being one despite what people think. Everyone thinks he's just this mean emo introvert that hates everyone, when in reality he's a scared child who kept getting shoved to the side, but despite this he continues to give and give to help the same people who keep hurting him. He helps them in the Labyrinth (yes, he "betrayed" them first but he was 10 or 11 years old being used and manipulated by King Minos), he finds a way for Percy to stay alive (again betrayal, but again was lied to, used, and manipulated, it was very easy to do this to him because he was a scared, lost, child with no one to turn to and experiencing so many new, terrifying, things and feelings, and he still held his part of the deal, even after Percy choked him and admitted the only reason he isn't killing him is because Nico was his only way out), convinced Hades, Persephone, and Demeter to join them in the war despite his own life being on the line while doing so -Hades literally threatened to kill him-, he willingly went into actual hell to get information for them, tried to save Percy and Annabeth from falling in, lead the rest of the seven to the other side of the gates despite them treating him like trash the whole time, gets violently outed by a God getting what they needed, goes on a suicide mission for them traveling across the world with the stupid statue, then right after, still dying, joins them in the war.

I'm sure there is something I missed, you can't tell me he's an introvert that hates people when he's willing to do all of this and more for them and other strangers, Nico is an extrovert that loves people, people have just shown to hate him :(

Tim Drake is an extrovert through and through, he loves being with, talking to, and helping people, and is well liked to. It's shown time and time again throughout the comics that people are drawn to him, all the time, a big example of this is his now boyfriend Bernard who saw him walking by and immediately got him and went right to him curious and wanting to befriend him. Tim was that one super nice kid that was in EVERY friend group, even friends with bullies (though he wouldn't let them bully anyone, like that one scene where this big kid is bullying this little nerd and Tim, without using insults or hurting everyone, convinced him to stop by actually putting the victims in a better light (told the bully that the victim was more capable than be thought using his big brain to his advantage) and the bully was like, "Yeah, you right. Thanks Tim!" Obviously not a direct quote). Part of the reason why Tim was such a good Robin was because he was great with people and saw what they needed/wanted when saving that (that last part is more of my opinion than fact, if you disagree that's fine)

But the fandom seems to have labeled Tim as this loner who has no friends, is terrible at talking to people, and only wants to work. I can think of two reasons why that MIGHT be. One, because of how he was in Red Robin, pushing people away and such, but during that time he was going through A LOT, but if you notice, during that time he managed to befriend three assassins that at first were there to kill him (I know it wasn't the power of friendship that stopped them from trying, Ra's told them to help him instead, but while helping him they didn't have to become friends, that was all Tim). And number two, his struggle to befriend the other capes (like the core four), but this could be because of a number of things not him being an introvert. Like him not being allowed to reveal his identity, even tho he wanted too, making it harder to trust him. He also seemed to think their relationship is only supposed to be professional, like coworkers, and he wasn't supposed to befriend them. Or he's used to things being in a controlled strict way while he's Robin, and the core four and others being so chaotic and impulsive (hehe, Impulse) overwhelmed and confused him. People also seem to think that because of his parents abuse by neglecting him (they did, it's canon, just because they loved him it doesn't stop the neglect and the fact that neglect is abuse, won't take any arguments on that) he should be more withdrawn or something when that, one just isn't correct people react a lot of different ways to abuse, and two just not Tim, not how he reacted to him, if anything their neglect made him want to be around people more.

Anyway, I got off topic AGAIN, the fandoms made these two characters into loner introverts when that is not true to their characters at all, and this really bugs me a lot because being extroverts and loving people is a big part of who they are, and a lot of times the fandom does it to be like, "Oh look at my poor baby boy!" which is weird

#tim drake #nico di angelo #batman #percy jackson #introvert #extrovert #red robin #the ghost king

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ebrithilbowser-blog · 2 years

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It’s Pokémon Theory time

Lately I pondered about the mysterious Pokémon that is Unown and had some ideas about it that I haven’t read anywhere else.

First of all, and this is nothing new, there’s obviously some connection between Unown, the Creation trio and Arceus. This is made obvious by their association in the Anime and in every core series game they appeared in since Diamond and Pearl. It seems that the ancient people of Jotho and Sinnoh used them as writing, which is mostly found in ancient temples dedicated to Arceus and the Creation trio. The most obvious connection is the Sinjoh ruins event in HeartGold and SoulSilver.

So one thing that has always bugged me is the depiction of Kabuto, Omanyte, Aerodactyl and Ho-Oh in the Ruins of Alph. Ho-Oh makes sense, like the Creation trio in Sinnoh, it was revered as a deity by the people of Jotho, so they depicted it in their temples. But why the fossil mons? From a Doylist standpoint this obviously comes from Pokémons long-running association between old human ruins and fossil Pokémon, with both being something ancient. But from a Watsonian perspective, it made no sense to me. Those Pokémon would’ve been extinct long before humans appeared and started to worship Legendary Pokémon.

But now I think that those people really encountered those extinct Pokémon. Like Shieldon and Cranidos in Pokémon Legends Arceus, they might have appeared in space time distortions caused by either the Icognito or the Creation trio. This made the people see them only in relation to their sacred Pokémon, which is also why they depicted them in the Ruins of Alph.

As for the Rhydon statues found in the ruins, I’m not sure why they chose to depict this Pokémon so much, but I guess this is more of a reverance for a commonplace Pokémon that was seen as powerful and treated with respect because it was dangerous.

Another thing I noticed was the relationship between two different ancient writing systems in the Pokémon world, Unown and Braille. We encounter Unown in Jotho and Sinnoh/Hisui, which have closely related cultures, and also on Seven Island within the Tanoby ruins. But on Six Island, whithin the Dotted Hole, and also in Hoenn, we find Braille. This would imply that this was the writing system of another culture, but both overlapped on the Sevii Islands and in Sinnoh, where the legendary Titans are also present. As far as I remember, Sinnoh, Galar and Unova don’t feature Braille writing, though, even while the Titans can be encountered there. I’m not really sure what to make of that.

#pokémon #pokémon theory #unown #ruins of alph #braille #arceus #palkia #dialga #giratina

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raxistaicho · 1 year

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Are we not Engaged... in bizarro world?

Spoilers under the cut.

-The bonus campaign has to carry the DLC hard. I’m not really impressed; the DLC maps are kinda sloggy and unfun and the DLC Emblems just snap the balance of the main game in half.

-Playing on Hard since I don’t know what to expect.

-Ring vault in ruins.

-Mopey woman being mopey and cryptic.

-Alear meets her opposite-gender self. Oh it’s opposite-gender Emblem Alear. I know he’s not the same gender as her but you think she’d notice the similarity.

-Not!Alear wants help, Alear agrees because it might help her get back something she lost.

-He wants her to gather the seven bracelets.

-Lol.

-Alear: Will we meet again?

-Not!Alear: No. We never met.

-I hate this cryptic shit, roflmao.

-Lol, Nil’s voice is goofily high-pitched.

-The twins aren’t happy to see the divine dragon for some reason.

-Alear died, world fucked.

-Nel’s REALLY unhappy to see Alear, roflmao.

-Nel has a “complicated history” with the Divine Dragon.

-Guess we’re getting Chrom first. The other six Emblems are gone.

-We’re getting an infoduuuuuump!

-Seems Sombron isn’t the only Fell Dragon.

-Divine Dragons and humans prayed for salvation, Emblems appeared. Nel and Nil were praying for more Emblems and got Alear instead.

-Lumera sacrificed herself to imprison Sombron.

-Alear of the alt world was Lumera’s successor and healed the world. Sombron returned and started another war. Alt Alear and Sombron mutual killed. World’s fucked now without a Divine Dragon.

-Some “unknown malefactor” is starting shit. They probably have two bracelets. The other four are scattered, in the hands of the four nations.

-Actually there’s been no war between the four nations, they’re just glaring at each other.

-Nel says we might be killing people who look familiar.

-Nel and Nil are fell dragons. Nel’s very angery.

-Lol, the game deadass cuts off them saying they’re fell dragons so that Nel can have a dramatic transformation. Nil can’t transform though.

-Nil’s dragon form is different from Sombron’s, she looks more like some kinda frilled lizard rather than a cobra. Neat.

-Oh my god this DLC campaign is a fucking disaster.

https://twitter.com/Raxistaicho2/status/1643436626511802368

-What if in Cindered Shadows, Edelgard and Claude got to be a Fortress Knight and a Wyvern but Dimitri and Ashe were a cavalier and an archer?

-Fuckin wolves everywhere.

-Sounds like the boss is Fogado. He has Tiki.

-Chapter 1 was pretty boring, it’s just a lot of wolves. Fuckin’ wolves everywhere.

-Villain escaped but what else is new in Engage.

-Alear doesn’t know the words to summon Tiki. Tiki tries to talk despite being being red. Nel puts Tiki to sleep so she can’t be used. Oh well, bye, Tiki.

-Since Tiki was summoned, the villain is probably a Fell Dragon, and thus probably Nel and Nil’s siblings.

-”Dragon power is unpredictable” lol handwave.

-Nel’s still bein’ a bitch.

-Nel and Nil are visiting Alt Alear’s grave.

-Sepia tone flashback, Nil’s sadge that he can’t turn into a dragon. Nel thinks he’ll be able to eventually. Nel gave Nil her dragonstone, he keeps it so she can transform. it’s sweet but eh.

-Alt Elyos is rotated for some reason.

-Cryptic woman being cryptic again.

-The sky’s fuckin’ blood red for some goddamn reason. Did Alt Alear’s death also fuck with the atmosphere?

-We’re getting Hector’s bracelet this time.

-Alt Firene are known for being ill-tempered. They’re “vengeful and quick to violence”. The way Nil talks it sounds like the Alt Firenese were already like this and the only thing that changed when Alt Alear died is they just stopped visiting Lythos.

-We’re meeting with a spy.

-Not Zephia is here! Wait, the fuck, Zelestia is a spy? Zelestia, the woman who looks like Zephia? She’d stick out in any fucking crowd.

-Zelestia was super sadge when Alt Alear died.

-Very fucking long cutscenes to emphasize Zelestia is the opposite of Zephia. Like I understand they don’t want to just pop her in but we don’t fucking care about Zelestia because we’re gonna know her for like an hour or two tops since I don’t think the not Hounds are in the main game.

-Oh yeah, Eve’s dead and Alfred is King. Alfred is indecisive. Celine’s angery. She wants to appease the dead by avenging themself on Brodia, and also Firene’s lands are failing so she wants to supplement their resources and stuff by taking over Brodia’s mining. OH NO, ALT CELINE IS DIMITRI.

-Still, going from Yellow Edelgard to Yellow Dimitri sounds about right.

-Celine wears the pants in alt world. She kinda takes herself hostage by saying she’ll attack alone if Alfred doesn’t help.

-Negotiations do not go well, and only get worse when Alear shows up. Alt Alfred and Celine think Alear is a Corrupted and get livid.

-Celine and Alfred have the corrupted tag. I think they’re Corrupted.

-Celine and Alfred snap out of their douchebaggery with a beating. They want to join, Nel says no. I think it’s ‘cause they’re Corrupted.

-Nel picks another fight with Alear on the way out, but it’s presented like an equal thing.

-Chapter 3 time!

-Alt Brodia hates war and is locking down their borders.

-We meet up with Alt Gris aka Gregory, who is also spying on Brodia despite being very distinctive in appearance.

-The Four Winds and the twins are used to running away from danger.

-Alcryst is a jerk. Diamant is a whimp.

-So the DLC is spending a lot of time just to show “hey, Gregory, Alcryst, and Diamant are being weiiiiiiiird”.

-Apparently if you get all 7 bracelets in their sleeping form you go:

-Battle on the Big Bridge!!!

-Oh thank god, the pre-12 units are promoted now. The campaign balance is a little less fucked but still pretty fucked.

-Lots of siege weapons. Ivy carrying hard. Zelestia is extremely good with Celine’s levin sword.

-Diamant summons Marth and Sigurd with Veronica but I just bop him and clear the map.

-Diamant and Alcryst don’t try to join, they just surrender and leave. Hmm. Oh also, they were Corrupted too.

-Flashback! Nel’s siblings chided her to kill Nil (I say do it, he’s beyond fucking useless) but she wigged out and killed them all. Sombron has a big “I’m so proud :’)” moment.

-Nel fucking kills the Brodia bros in secret, roflmao. I think it’s ‘cause they’re Corrupted. Oh, she killed Celine and Alfred, too.

-Since this game can’t hide its plot twists worth shit, I think this is a red herring made to make us think Nel is the evil one when it’s actually going to be Nil.

-We get

-Next to Elusia!

-And here’s Alt Marni! She’s not annoying. Mauvier’s also here. He’s the same as usual for some fucking reason.

-This time they’re not even bothering to give us a quick rundown on what Alt Elusia is like. Judging by how Firene and Brodia were you’d think they’d hate Sombron but nope, they want to resurrect him. Engage be consistent challenge: impossible.

-Alt Solm is attacking Elusia to stop them reviving Solm. That’s why Mauvier’s here. He scoots off to stop the Sombron revival rituation.

-In Alt World, Solm is a useful ally and Timerra isn’t annoying. Why are we fighting Alt Solm? I have no fucking idea! They’re trying to stop Sombron coming back!

-Alt Ivy really really loves herself. She deserves it!

-Oohhh, finally a 3-way battle.

-Oh nvm, Ivy’s gonna just bum rush me with some big fuck-off wyverns, thank you, Engage, very cool.

-They had to nerf Ivy’s Bolting because she fucking toast Nil’s worthless ass with it and I have no tools at all to stop it from happening.

-I fucking despise Nil so much.

-Okay so on to the characters... They all fucking suck.

Nil’s clearly faking his nice guy routine and even if he’s not he’s such a boring character done a thousand times “I’m so nice and supportive but gosh I hate being weak :((((((” that I don’t give a fuck about him.

Nel’s also boring, she was in love with Alt Alear but he died so now she’s sadge and mean and she picks fights with Alear and she loves her brother so huggy-buggy much

The Four Winds are just character-flopped Four Hounds... except Mauvier who is literally just the same dude from the main game it seems.

Also, every other character is just their main game self with their traits flipped around. Merrin hates animals, Ivy is very proud and cruel, Alcryst is confident but an ass, and so on and so forth. This didn’t have anything to do with Alt Alear dying either; it seems like he died like a couple years ago at most, so it’s not like the world got worse without a Divine Dragon to guide them: Alear was THERE for a millenia and the only thing that happened when he died was the countries started doubting each other, but it’s not like him dying was what made Alcryst an asshole or Celine stupid and vicious and it didn’t make Brodia very defensive or Firene a climate-collapsed hellhole with a bloody sky.

This DLC is weirdly meshing an AU and mirror dimension situation but the AU didn’t cause the mirror dimension and if anything the mirror dimension situation just emphasizes how pointless the AU event changes are.

As for the gameplay, it’s really poorly tuned, I feel. Madeline is tanky but she can’t hit shit, but Zelestia and Gregory are both really good (Zelestia is basically what if Ivy traded staffs for more speed, hit, and luck, Gregory has gigantic magic), but Nel is kinda whatever aside from finishing kills and Nil is just actively terrible.

There’s very little differentiation between main story unit builds here aside from what you gave them in the main story (they retain Emblems and skills, but you aren’t going to make a build just for Xenalogue play, I doubt), and everyone’s inventory is very very samey aside from a few things like Celine having a Levin Sword that promptly gets taken from her. You don’t get a very big party but there’s lots of enemies to deal with.

Oh well that’s 4/6 chapters down. NOT enjoying it. Rest soon.

#fire emblem engage #dlc #spoilers

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