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stormgardenscurse · 1 month

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‘do you remember? back when…’

Summary: a childhood friends AU! Well, Lilia’s is more like ‘back in our youth’ rather than childhood, but you get the gist.

Characters: Lilia, Malleus, Riddle, Jamil, Vil

Content warning: the Reader is gender neutral, but it’s mentioned they’ve worn dresses in Malleus’ part.

If you liked this, consider checking out my TWST Isekai Fanbook, now digitally available on my kofi!

Lilia Vanrouge

Back when you were both training to be knights, you mistook Lilia for a girl at first.

In your defense, it’s simply because of how pretty he is, yet so cutthroat and lithe on his feet that you swear this is what they mean by ‘angels of death’ descending on a battlefield.

Lilia calls you weird for comparing him to that when he much prefers to think of himself as some type of demon, or harbinger of doom.

“Do I still not look intimidating enough for you?” He’d asked, sharp teeth flashing with the question as the both of you leaned against the railings on the castle rooftop. Lilia angles his head back to gaze at you, and you think to yourself how it exposes the pale skin of his neck, which he’d never show to any opponent in a fight.

Two of your fingers reach to tap on that expanse of skin, causing Lilia to freeze from the contact. He tilts his head, comfortable enough that he hasn’t decided to shove you away yet.

“It’s just… you seem more mortal to me.” You shrug. “As mortal as a fae can be, anyways. I can reach out and touch you, and I would walk away unharmed.”

“That’s because I allow you to.” Lilia rolls his eyes. He finally steps away, picking up his weapon — heavy and gleaming emerald. From beneath his lashes, he gives you a challenging smile as he flips and catches it in his hand. “Care to spar before we turn in for the night?”

“Maybe you’re a vampire after all.” You pretend to be tired of his late requests, but follow Lilia down to the training grounds regardless. “The kind that human kingdoms are romanticizing in their newest novels. Sparkly under the sunlight.”

“If you’d like to sleep already, I’d be more than happy to croon you a lullaby.”

“You’ll only do so after I’m defeated on the ground, I’m sure.” With a pause, you give Lilia a proposal. “If I win, I’ll sing to you instead. But I’m not carrying you back to your dorm.”

“Oh? It’s a deal, then.”

Ever since, you can’t be sure if Lilia likes to throw your sparring matches just for the chance to hear you sing. You don’t often do so (you’re knights, after all), so he regards it as a secret side of you that only he gets to witness. You only come to this contemplation after feelings spark between you — face flushed as you wonder what to do next when you’ve fallen for someone so impossible.

He’s already been keeping you up at night with his nocturnal tendencies and hangouts… and now this?!

Malleus Draconia

It helps that as children, you never truly processed who Malleus was until a little later in your friendship. You were told he’s the son of the royal advisor, and so you prattled to him with questions of what the crown prince is like. He’d answer vaguely, sometimes saying that His Royal Highness has bad habits, and you’d nod along, hanging onto his every word.

Malleus soon realizes that you don’t care as much for ‘the prince’ as much as you did for him as your mysterious friend. You were both lonely noble-children, and you enjoyed sharing treats, flowers, and any new thing you could with Malleus. Once, he even tried on the trendiest dresses with you out of curiosity, and you lamented the fact that he could’ve made a beautiful girl.

No one would dare say that to him in any lifetime, other than you. Though to be fair, you didn’t know he was the prince yet.

“Flowers look wonderful in your hair! Since it’s dark, they stand out.” You continue weaving yellow and blue blooms into Malleus’ locks. “...Hey, what do you think life would be like if we were regular children?”

“Not nobles, you mean?” He hums, helping you decorate your hair once you’re done with his. He casts an easy spell to dye your hair with highlights to match the dress. “I suppose we’d be towns-children frolicking without a care in the world.”

“We’d still be friends, right…?”

Malleus pauses at the anxious edge in your voice. Perhaps you were just as reliant on this comforting friendship as he was. He tells himself to hide his status for a little while longer. “Of course. Our parents would still be acquainted, and we’d still have playdates — only running through the roads rather than castle halls.”

It’s hard to find a real friend amongst noble children. Some cling to their families, others are picky or judgmental, and…

A lot are only friends for as long as the other is useful.

“We should have an outing in the city one day.” You smile, trying to fight away the heavy air. “I’m sure you’d like the marketplace. I’ve only seen it from inside a carriage, but it looks fun.”

Soon, the outing is arranged. However…

“Before we go, there’s something I need to tell you.” Malleus takes your hands in his, squeezing them as if to ground himself in the moment. Time passes quickly for the fae, but his heart is beating out of his chest at what your reaction might be.

…He ends up delaying this reveal until the end of your excursion. But the last thing he expects is for your eyes to well up with tears and for you to latch onto him in a hug.

“I’m… I’m so sorry—! If only I was more reliable, you wouldn’t have to keep this a secret, and…”

As you let out a hiccup and continue apologizing, Malleus’ confusion melts into a soft smile, hugging you back.

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle’s mother didn’t know about your existence for a while, as you’d always sneak over to his window after she left the house. You claimed you knew how accomplished his family is, so you told Riddle you’d prepare for a better impression in the future! “That way, we can hang out normally or study together!”

Truth be told, the only studying you’re interested in is with practical magic — as another child with an affinity with magic, you’ve been going to the library often to read up on theories, experimenting with what spells you can do.

As worried as Riddle is for your safety (you’ve been doing all this without supervision), he’s also very curious about watching magic unfold from your own hands. You showed him a color changing spell once, surprising him by appearing with a different appearance — it was cute how he panicked, thinking you went ahead and dyed your entire head pink.

“And nothing hurts? No side effects?” He asked.

“Nope! And one day, we can both attend a magic school and do spells like these all the time!”

One day… Despite how he’s temporarily stuck at home still, adhering to his mother’s strict rules, he clings onto the hope that it’ll fruition in him becoming a great mage. Then, when that happens, he can be the one to wow you with magic you haven’t seen before. Just as you have all these months, visiting with the intention of cheering him up or encouraging him.

On rare days, you manage to sneak Riddle out of the window for a quick visit to the park or library. There, with his heart thumping out of his chest, he’d marvel at the world you’re so familiar with already, and so willing to place into his unsteady palms.

“Can you read that?” You ask, pointing at a passage in a history book. While technically rebelling, you still chose a book on the same topic Riddle was meant to study at home.

“Yes, it’s…” As Riddle translates the scripture, he realizes you’re listening very intently. And all of a sudden, the closeness of your seats in the corner of the library makes him flush, realizing how you’ve always spoken to him kindly. Different from the playful tones you used at the start of your friendship, or currently do with the acquaintances he’s seen you greet along the way.

It’s been a while since he’s felt special, especially as the sentiment expired after years of his mother claiming he had a gift; that because he had the potential to be perfect, it'd come at a price of overwhelming pressure.

So why does your kind of ‘special’ feel like a balm?

Jamil Viper

Between his busy schedule working for the Al-Asims, it’s all Jamil can do to relax in the solitude of his own room… that is, until you’re temporarily displaced from your own, and have been allocated to bunk with Jamil since he’s ‘very capable’ and close to your age. Another bed is moved in. There’s still space, but Jamil dislikes having his privacy encroached upon.

The two of you never interacted before this, but he’s seen you around the mansion before doing chores and learning from the head servants. You aren’t too chatty, Jamil thinks, until you finally break it to him after the night of a banquet (the both of you too tired to keep up appearances, slumped on your respective beds), that he frowns a lot. And that’s why you haven’t spoken to him much until now.

Jamil blinks once, then twice. “I do?” He’s always been good at controlling his facial expressions—

“Yeah, when you think people aren’t looking.” You raise a finger in the air. “Especially when the meals aren’t to your liking, you tend to look around with judgmental eyes.”

“So you watch me when we’re at work.”

“Only because you never looked like you wanted to talk.” It’s not accusatory, merely an observation from you. With a sigh, Jamil falls on his back against the mattress. “Did you see the performers at the banquet?”

“The dancers were great. I saw them practicing in the morning before the event.” Jamil answers. It’s the first time you’re having a proper conversation, and while he’s not as chatty as Kalim (who he’s normally assigned to watch), you feel at ease.

“I remember them! The kitchen was handing out meals to the staff, and I was one of the delivery people.”

“Did you help cook too? There wasn’t enough salt in the curry.”

“You—! Then come and help us yourself!”

“Too much work.” Jamil pushes himself up on his elbows just to stick his tongue out at you, before turning to lay on his side. “We should rest. Tomorrow the guests are leaving, so the suites have to be cleaned.”

Even after you move back to your room, you spend time with Jamil, running off to the market after visiting family, and watching street performers and food vendors go about their day. On rare occasions, you knock on his window when you have a bad dream, and Jamil groggily holds up a conversation until you’ve calmed down. The stars are especially twinkly on those nights, as if they’re another witness to the friendship you shared beneath busy days and tall adults.

“Do you think we’d make good adults, Jamil?”

“Not many adults are good at it either. So we’ll be fine.”

“Well… That’s true. Goodnight, Jamil.”

“...Goodnight. Sleep tight.”

Vil Schoenheit

When you first met Vil as kids, you were intimidated by him not because he acted in evil roles, but because he had the aura of an adult.

“It’s weird… you look my age, but walk and talk like a grown-up.”

“Hm, I guess that’s not too bad of an impression. …What’s your name?”

You were next-door neighbors, and suffice to say your interests lied more in pop-culture as an audience rather than as an artist on-stage. It’s a world away from Vil who’s a child-actor and upcoming model, but when he’s not pursuing such work, he’s still just a boy.

…A boy who you were very surprised to see act his age, when he was with his father or smiled as he told you about the movies they starred in. You’d always listen, realizing that while Vil was always pretty, he’s even more eye-catching when he’s rambling about something he’s passionate about. It almost makes you want to grow up quickly too and pursue your own dreams.

No one would see this side of him outside the comfort of your homes, though. Vil has an image to uphold (at least, you’re quite sure he’s trying to craft a persona for the camera, considering how he asks you what you think an actor’s personality should be like), so you try and cover for him when strangers ask about Vil. Giving just enough praise without revealing too much, since they might be reporters:

“He’s really hard-working and nice to others! Vil even explains his work to me if I ask. You can tell he really loves acting.”

“Oh? You sound like you admire him a lot.”

“Well… lots of people do. Once you meet him, you’ll realize he’s like a diamond!”

Word of your comments gets to Vil, and he seems to be in a good mood, explaining to you that it sounds like something a fan would say. “...One day, I’ll have as many fans as my dad does.”

It becomes routine for Vil to knock on your door whenever he gets a new script. He likes having you watch him rehearse and give him your thoughts, amongst other things like discussing the story and causing the both of you to become invested in the plot.

You’re sworn to secrecy, of course, since you can’t leak the movie’s details. And after you’re a bit older, Vil instead makes it a game to read random lines to you, then asking you to make up the rest of the story (it’s a good improv session, even if your conversations devolve into ridiculous scenarios.)

You got each other parting gifts after you were accepted into different colleges; Vil’s to you is a ‘poisoned flower’, which is to say, an artificial flower scented to help you sleep. It’s so you can get proper rest instead of scrolling on your phone, Vil claims. And of course, you’re added into his personal Magicam to get life updates — even now, when asked who you were texting with a smile on your face, you keep Vil’s secret and claim it’s just a childhood friend:

“He’s in Night Raven College.”

“Oh, the same one Vil Schoenheit is in?”

“The very one! Pretty impressive, huh?”

#lilia vanrouge x reader #malleus draconia x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #jamil viper x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst reader insert #twst x you #twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #storm writings

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beyondtheseaofstars · 11 months

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give me ALL of your atom headcannons.

yeah, you heard me right. ALL OF THEM

Haha...pulls out an entire google docs

Now, these are the only ones I'll be sharing because yk so enjoy:

Brystal Evergreen

– She's bisexual :))

– Her wand reminds her a lot of Madame Weatherberry. (Don't tell me Brystal didn't see her as a mother figure.)

– Bubbles are very connected to her childhood, it's like an important symbol to her.

– She’s a sentimental person. The small little gifts her friends make for her are kept in a special area and she makes sure they're kept safe.

(A couple of these headcannons are from other folks but yk.)

Lucy Goose

– She definitely likes theatre and musicals. She's memorized the entire lyrics to all of her favorite musicals.

– She just yells extremely random words (or just screams) whenever she feels like it (which is a lot) because it's funny to her.

– She’s a heavy sleeper. If by any chance her friends were unfortunate enough to sleep next to her, they’d either fall off the bed or get their blanket yanked away from them.

– She’s also the type of person to fall off her bed (or hammock) and still be asleep, maybe even the person who sleeps through earthquakes and stuff.

–Occasionally, she bonks people in the head with a tuba to "knock some sense into them". Her friends may be against it, but according to her, it works.

Emerelda Stone

– She’s nearsighted and actually has a pair of emerald framed glasses with her, though most of the time she wears contacts instead.

(just one for Emerelda? yep, sorry-)

Xanthous Hayfield (can't find yellow 😭)

– Whenever he's lost in thought, he'll pace around.

– He has a pet cat! Lucy is the one who gave it to him.

– He likes flowers too! He often gives little flower crowns and metal dolls as gifts to his friends because he’s wholesome, except they aren’t that well-made at all. They’d have to put an enchantment on it to keep it from breaking. (They still appreciate the gesture though.)

– He really likes small critters like squirrels, frogs, lizards, bunnies, and mice.

Tangerina Turkin

– If angered (and she can get angered very easily), she will do absolutely anything to show her anger to them. She’s a very petty person.

– She's that person who's like "oh, you made that? 😒" then proceed to treasure it forever.

Skylene Lavenders

– Her favorite animal is a duck. I’m not going to explain. It’s just duck.

– The floor/pool in her room is decorated to look like a really nice aquarium. She has plenty of small fishes who live there that she keeps as pets. They all have names and stories too.

– She has a “little” pet shark that also lives in her room and it’s surprisingly very friendly. She just hangs out with him whenever she’s bored.

– She’s a crafty person, not the most skilled, but it’s something. She likes messing around with glue, colors, sticks, strings, and glitter, making a DIY craft for each of her friends and fishes.

– She has a large stuffed animal collection that she and Xanthous are building together.

– She usually goes and excitedly talks or rants about something to (mainly) Tangerina even though she knows or has heard about it already.

Elrik Elderwood

– He likes to carry Xanthous for fun sometimes, akin to how he did when they first met. He goes into the room and just picks him up because he can.

– He does some trolling with Lucy from time to time, mainly to the demons and the Fairy Council.

General

– They made little rainbow friendship bracelets for all of them to wear. Even during and after the events of The Land of Stories series, they still have those bracelets and wear them all the time.

– They all have a book-reading sleepover in Brystal’s room every weekend.

– The Fairy Council have a special little place in the woods somewhere near the academy where they unwind and de-stress whenever they're overwhelmed. (They still do this in TLOS.)

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ingek73 · 1 year

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India archive reveals extent of ‘colonial loot’ in royal jewellery collection

File from India Office archive details how priceless items were extracted from colony as trophies of conquest

by David Pegg and Manisha Ganguly

Published: 14:00 Thursday, 06 April 2023

Five years ago, Buckingham Palace marked its summer opening with an exhibition celebrating the then Prince Charles’s 70th birthday with a display of his favourite pieces from the royal collection, Britain’s official trove of items connected to the monarchy. “The prince had a very, very strong hand in the selection,” the senior curator said.

Among the sculptures, paintings and other exhibits was a long gold girdle inlaid with 19 large emeralds once used by an Indian maharajah to decorate his horses. It was a curious choice to put into the exhibition in light of the violent means by which it had come into the hands of the royal family.

Emerald girdle of Maharaja Sher Singh, c 1840. Photograph: Royal Collection Trust / © His Majesty King Charles III 2023

As part of its Cost of the crown series, the Guardian has uncovered a remarkable 46-page file in the archives of the India Office, the government department that was responsible for Britain’s rule over the Indian subcontinent. It details an investigation, apparently commissioned by Queen Mary, the grandmother of Elizabeth II, into the imperial origins of her jewels.

The report, from 1912, explains how priceless pieces, including Charles’s emerald belt, were extracted from India as trophies of conquest and later given to Queen Victoria. The items described are now owned by the monarch as property of the British crown.

Plundered stones

To fully understand the context behind the jewels, and their place in India’s history, it was necessary to visit the archives.

A journal records a tour in 1837 of the Punjab area in north India by the society diarist Fanny Eden and her brother George, the governor general of the British Raj at the time. They visited Ranjit Singh, the maharajah in Lahore, who had signed a “treaty of friendship” with the British six years earlier.

The half-blind Singh wore few if any precious stones, Eden wrote in her journal, but his entourage was positively drowning in them. So plentiful were the maharajah’s gems that “he puts his very finest jewels on his horses, and the splendour of their harness and housings surpasses anything you can imagine,” she wrote. Eden later confided in her journal: “If ever we are allowed to plunder this kingdom, I shall go straight to their stables.”

Twelve years later, Singh’s youngest son and heir, Duleep, was forced to sign over the Punjab to the conquering forces of the British East India Company. As part of the conquest, the company did indeed plunder the horses’ emeralds, as well as Singh’s most precious stone, the legendary Koh-i-noor diamond.

The queen mother’s crown sits on top of the coffin during her funeral in 2002. Photograph: Dan Chung/The Guardian

Today, the Koh-i-noor sits in the crown of Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother, on display at the Tower of London, and it has become an emblem of Britain’s tortured relationship with its imperial history.

Anita Anand, a journalist and historian who co-wrote a book titled Koh-i-noor on the diamond, said it was “a beautiful and cold reminder of British supremacy during the Raj”, the period between 1858 and 1947 when India was ruled by the crown.

“Its facets reflect the fate of a boy king who was separated from his mother,” Anand said. The stone too was “taken far away from his home, recut and diminished”. Anand said: “That is not how India sees itself today.”

Buckingham Palace is plainly aware of the sensitivities surrounding looted artefacts. After the Indian government let it be known that for Camilla, the Queen Consort, to wear the Koh-i-noor at Charles’s coronation would elicit “painful memories of the colonial past”, the palace announced she would swap it for a less contentious diamond.

But, as was discovered by Queen Mary, the Koh-i-noor was not the only gem taken from Singh’s treasury to have found its way to the British monarchy.

Royal with a pearl necklace

Among the jewels identified in the document found by the Guardian is a “short necklace of four very large spinel rubies”, the largest of which is a 325.5-carat spinel that later came to be identified as the Timur ruby.

Its famous name is erroneous: research by the academic Susan Stronge in 1996 concluded it was probably never owned by Timur, a Mongol conquerer. And it is a spinel, a red stone similar to, but chemically distinct from, a ruby.

Elizabeth II was shown handling it in the 1969 BBC documentary Royal Family, and was clearly acquainted with the myths surrounding it. “The history, of course, is very fascinating. It belonged to so many kings of Persia and Mughal emperors, until Queen Victoria was sent it from India,” she observed.

The Timur ruby necklace, 1853. Photograph: Royal Collection Trust / © His Majesty King Charles III 2023

The queen was never pictured wearing the item. However, she may have worn another of the Lahore treasures, identified in the India Office report as “a pearl necklace consisting of 224 large pearls”.

In her 1987 study of royal jewellery, Leslie Field described “one of the Queen Mother’s most impressive two-row pearl necklaces … made from 222 pearls with a clasp of two magnificent rubies surrounded by diamonds that had originally belonged to the ruler of the Punjab” – almost certainly a reference to the same necklace.

The queen wearing pearls at the Royal Opera House in 2012. Photograph: AFP/Getty Images

In 2012, Elizabeth II attended a gala festival at the Royal Opera House in London to celebrate her diamond jubilee. Photographs showed her wearing a multi-string pearl necklace with a ruby clasp.

Were these Ranjit Singh’s pearls? There was speculation they may have been, though Buckingham Palace was unable to confirm either way.

Queen Mary’s interest appears to have been prompted by curiosity about the origin of some of her pearls rather than any moral concern about the manner in which they were obtained. But a Buckingham Palace spokesperson said slavery and colonialism were matters that “his Majesty takes profoundly seriously”.

Shashi Tharoor, formerly an undersecretary at the United Nations, and currently an MP in India, said: “We have finally entered an era where colonial loot and pillage is being recognised for what it really was, rather than being dressed up as the incidental spoils of some noble ‘civilising mission’.

“As we are seeing increasingly, the return of stolen property is always a good thing. Generations to come will wonder why it took civilised nations so long to do the right thing.”

#abolish the monarchy #queen elizabeth ll #king charles the cruel #brf #colonialism #koh i noor #cost of the crown #the guardian #british royal family #imperialism

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darthstitch · 2 years

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the HORRIFICALLY angsty dreamling fic i REFUSE to write

Buckle up, kids.

In a universe that is like an infinity removed from here, Dream of the Endless and Hob Gadling enter into a romantic relationship.

It does not go well.

Dream is not in a good place, mentally. He is tired, he is traumatized, his heart has been broken over and over again. He had wanted to leave his relationship with Hob Gadling in its comfortable space - friendship, conversations that are filled with Hob's stories, a reminder of hope and wonder and joy. He doesn't want to think about how he realized that he loved this man since the moment the contrary bastard defied his own smug expectations, shattered his arrogant assumptions into smithereens.

Hob Gadling fell first; Dream of the Endless falls harder.

Dream's own past affairs were highly romantic, turbulent things. There is something different here, a certain peace that he hasn't had before - shared cups of tea after a long day's work, the sending of a gentle dream to ensure a good night's rest, cooking in the kitchen, teasing and flirting. In another universe, Dream spends more and more time in the Waking World, builds friendships other than Hob alone, basks warm and content in the affection not just from his dearest, but from others. Dream learns that he is worthy of love and being loved and that he can love without calamity and disaster following.

It doesn't happen here. This affair is still secret and new and thrilling, just between the two of them. And Dream ends up being afraid again, afraid of his own desires, afraid that his sibling is meddling once more. Inevitably, Dream screws up and hurts Hob badly, is conquered by his own doubts, his own tragic flaw.

Hob's not a saint and he isn't perfect and he is still, blessedly, only human after all. So of course he's angry and he lashes out, his pain tearing open wounds in Dream's already tattered heart. See, this proves it - Dream is an unworthy creature and already, Despair has her hooks into him, even though this horrifies her. She can see it now, that the games she and her twin have played are not giving them what they wanted. They will lose another brother.

The story might have played out in its more familiar form. Dream seeks out Destruction, together with his sister Delirium. Orpheus points the way, but Dream must grant him his final rest in return. Family blood is spilled, Daniel Hall will be taken, the Kindly Ones will rage and Daniel will be transformed into Dream of the Endless. He will be the new Dream and he will always be Dream of the Endless, as if Morpheus had never been.

Something else happens though - before Dream makes his way to Orpheus, he visits baby Daniel one more time. He's not sure why, but perhaps this is a goodbye or the closing of a door on a might-have-been. He would have liked to have told Daniel stories, let him come near to him in the Dreaming, sing this little one songs and make him toys, the way he did for Orpheus long ago.

And that's when it hits him - he would be so selfish to condemn Daniel to take his crown, to be the new Dream. What is it with him that Dream cannot stop hurting the people he loves and cares for. That he can't seem to stop. He has to stop. He must.

The choice is clear - Dream cannot die. But he can change.

There are ways to appease the Kindly Ones and Dream makes of his own heart an offering, spills his heart's blood on the soil of the Dreaming. Tears follow, salt and water and life for grief, for guilt, for a father's love for his son - one last gift that it was in his power to give.

When it is done, the Kindly Ones depart and the Dreaming is safe, held in the dream of the most powerful dreamer of all - Dream himself. He sleeps, tear tracks still trickling down from his closed eyelids, blood on his hands, an emerald held fast on a golden chain between his fingers, his chest a gaping wound where his heart should have been.

Calliope comes, because she knows the moment her son has found his peace and she wants to mourn with her once-husband, the only one who would understand her pain. She finds his crumpled form and it's Delirium who sits next to him, her mismatched eyes the same color for once - the same as Dream's own.

There are three women who lay the King of All Night's Dreaming to rest in a bower within the heart of the Castle. His former wife, his oldest sister and his former raven-turned-Librarian. Lucienne, through her tears, keeps the emerald dreamstone. She is Steward of the Dreaming now, with power enough and Dream's own will, to keep the Dreaming safe until her lord returns.

Unknown to everyone, Delirium walks away from the Dreaming with a baby sleeping in her arms - snow-pale skin, black hair and blue eyes that held the cosmos in them. She holds an aspect of Dream of the Endless in her arms, her brother's unspoken, secret wish - to be remade anew, to change, rather than die.

Hob can't truly stay angry with Dream for long - his own heart is broken, but he can't stop loving him. Not when he knows why Dream can be so self-sabotaging and destructive. He's held Dream in his arms, listened to things that Dream had never spoken of to others, not even to his beloved oldest sister. In another life, Hob Gadling would have had the time to show Dream his fears were groundless, would have had a chance to show him he was loved, that mistakes happen, that fights can blow over and forgiven, that they could learn and grow together.

In the Dreaming, Hob instead finds a kingdom truly united in mourning and a sleeping Prince who will not be awakened with true love's kiss.

Let me just nope myself into the sun.

.... fortunately, our gang in the History Class Cryptids series are hella more sensible! AHAHAHAH!

#dreamling #dream/hob #dream x hob #dream of the endless #hob gadling #the story i'm never gonna write #NOPE #nopes myself into the sun #enough angst #i ain't doing this bullshit you hear me dream #HELL NO

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ashleyfableblack · 11 months

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Dressed For Success- A Eternal Courtship PRIDE Month Jam

"Mom, what're you doing?"

"Be still." Thorax' shawl floated about his head, wreathed in the green flames of his Queen-mother's magic. Her sabre-like fangs scraped against her chitinous lips in irritation. "You never have been able to get this right."

His violet eyes watched in stupified awe as she levitated a broach to clasp the rainbow material to his cavara as she tugged the fabric about. Back and forth she adjusted, snug here, loose there. "You DO want to look like you know how to dress yourself for your royal consort tonight, don't you?"

Thorax blinked twice. Yes. This was still happening. He knew Twilight had talked with her wife about respecting his new relationship with Spike but had NOT expected this outcome. "He's my boyfriend, Mom. And yes, I do." He shrank slightly as she paused to regard his tone. Even now, in his thirties, one look from her serpentine eyes and the Lovebug prince was a grub again. He gave a sheepish grin of his comparatively tiny fangs. "Sorry." Chrysalis returned to her ministrations with a huff, grumbling to herself in silence. Sometimes Thorax was glad he was never able to hear the hive mind. "But I thought you hated Spike?"

"When did I ever say that?" Her lips curled slightly with the utterance as she wove a band of blossoms between the beads around Thorax neck. He had to consider the question. She was right, technically she never had said anything of the sort. Though she had been very quick to interpose herself between them at nearly every opportunity. She placed a crown of flowers between his antlers and began adjusting it for a properly regal touch. "You're a twit. He's an insolent twit. You're perfect for each other."

Both eyebrows rose until they were almost encircling his horn.

"P-perfect…?"

The Queen lowered her gaze from the wreath of flowers. Her forked tongue flickered as she finished dabbing a final bit of her silken webbing to keep it in place to her exacting specifications. Her emerald snake eyes regarded him with an almost eerie quality he was not accustomed to seeing from her- not for anyone but Twilight. He could see something approaching a smile crossing her fangs, annoyed, but still, a smile. "Yes. I said it. Don't let it get to your foolish head."

He chuckled. It wasn't quite the more traditional pony-style family he had wanted but it wasn't only about what he wanted. She was trying. He was trying. Twilight was trying and wasn't that was family was all about? Through all the hardships, they found a way to keep trying. It was a family. His family. He lurched forward to clasp his lime-berry hoofs around his mother's shoulders, grinning ear to ear. To his surprise she barely recoiled. "Thank you, Mom. Happy Pride Month."

The queen rolled her eyes. She draped a forelimb around her wayward offspring with a flicker of her tongue. Tasting the air around him she sighed. Most creatures wore their emotions on their sleeve but Thorax sprayed his about like a garden hose. He really did love her. Shielded behind her nitwit offspring's field of vision, she let her smile grow just a bit brighter. "Yes. Yes. I'm wonderful." She broke the embrace, straightening herself and re-adjusting his crown once more with yet another dab of sticky spittle. "Now, go talk about friendship and make macaroni pictures or whatever it is you do."

The Lovebug prince beamed. His smile was bright enough to guide ships at sea as he practically pranced his way to the reading-room door. He paused in his bouncy gait for the grim visage of the twin guards framing the door. The spiky, elite soldier-caste changeling guards on either side regarded him in silence as Chrysalis voice crisply cut the air.

"My son…"

The tone was one he had not heard in years but was still all too familiar with. Not the marshmallow-soaked-in-honey doting wife of his good friend, Twilight Sparkle, nor the shrewd yet amiable tone of the regal Queen Chrysalis Sparkle of New Canterlot. This was the Hive-voice of THE Queen of The Swarm, the irresistible, unrelenting force which consumed all. The young prince nervously turned to face her. Her crown of antennae had extended, the outward expression of her unspoken connection to and indomitable control of the Hive Mind. The blue tips shimmered with the same gnawing cold as the unnatural darkness within the slits of her snake eyes.

"Anything beyond second base and he gets fed to your cousins." She grinned a cold, hungry smile. From behind him he heard the two guards hiss. Suddenly he became very aware of the unsettling feeling that half the objects in the reading room had been watching his every motion and were simply waiting the command of their Queen-mother to pounce and devour him.

He smirked. "Yes, Mother."

In her own way maybe, she was trying. Just like a real family.

#my art #my story #mlpg4 #mlpfim #queen chrysalis #prince thorax #changelings #love #lgbtq #lgbt #gay #family #interracial family #pride month #queer pride #mlp au #eternal courtship #ashleyfableblack

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animaginaryartblog · 4 months

Text

[Image ID: several colored digital sketches of different Sonic the Hedgehog characters, each redesigned to resemble a corresponding Yu-Gi-Oh! character. A logo in the top left reads "Heart of the Chaos", with text under it saying "A Sonic the Hedgehog x Yu-Gi-Oh! AU".

On the top half of the page is a lineup of characters. First on the left is Sonic as Atem, wearing his outfit from Millennium World - a cream robe, a red cape, and a gold crown. He also wears matching gold bracelets on his ankles, wrists, and upper arms, as well as a gold belt and gold earrings. Around his neck hangs on a Chaos Emerald on a necklace. The Emerald is pale yellow, almost translucent. Sonic has his fists on his hips, his legs spread apart, and a cocky grin on his face.

Next to Sonic is Blaze as Mahad. She wears a cream robe, a gold belt, a gold necklace and bracers, and a gold headpiece. Attached to the headpiece over her forehead is a pale oval jewel, the same color as Sonic's Chaos Emerald. Blaze stands with her arms folded, looking at Sonic with a fondly amused smile.

Third in the lineup is Marine as Mana. She wears Mana's outfit - a plain cream dress with a gold belt, gold necklace, and a white cloth headpiece. She leans towards Blaze, fists up and grinning widely.

Next is (an alternate timeline) Silver as the Thief King. He wears a blood red cloak over plainer cream robes. He has a pink burn scar over his left eye, and circular scars are burned into his palms. He stands with arms spread, glaring down at someone unseen.

Last is Tikal as Kisara. She wears a cream crop top of sorts, a cream skirt with blue hem, and leather sandals with wraps going up her legs. Similar wraps are on several of her flowing quills. A colorful beaded necklace is around her neck. She has one hand to her chest as she looks up with determination, eyes glowing blue.

In the bottom left corner of the page is a drawing of Marine as Mana, jumping with her arms spread and a wide smile on her face.

Finally, in the bottom right is a sequence with Blaze and Sonic. Blaze points aggressively at Sonic as Atem, growling "If you sacrifice yourself, I swear to Solaris no afterlife will save you from me." Sonic raises his hands in defense with a sheepish smile, saying "ok, ok!"

Text reads "3000 years later". Blaze looms behind Sonic, who is now possessing the form of Tails. Amy looks at her uncertainly while Sonic stares straight ahead with an expression of terror. Flames backlight Blaze as she glares down at him and says "I warned you." /end ID]

and that's the end of the Sonic/Yu-Gi-Oh! drawings for now. there may actually be some lore developing here?? wild.

Other drawings of this AU: Tails!Yugi and Sonic!Yami | Friendship Gang | Sonic Hate Club

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winns-stuff · 9 months

Note

Hi,hello! Not sure if you remember me, but I'd submitted some asks and brought up discussion topics in this blog way back then! I'm back from the dead after an exasperatingly long school year and some other daunting crap!Hope you're doing fantastic!🧡❤️💜💖

I saw that thread of beyonce's beautiful pink gown and thought about how I would've designed a dress for persephone's wedding . I did some digging and found a drawing I'd painted earlier this year inspired by lore olympus and RS's long- discontinued gothic-neovictorian comic "the doctor foxglove show".

The flowers are asphodels to represent persephone and I feel like the gothic traditional regal vibe would fit her nicely.

I also have other ideas that unfortunately I'm not gonna translate into drawings anytime soon 'cause of a bunch of other stuff I'm busy with

So I'm afraid you're gonna have to use your imagination.The wedding dress doesn't have to be white( how they made demeter "force" perse's dress to be white to further antagonize her and STILL ended up drawing persephone in a white dress anyway is still beyond me tbh )her symbols could beautifully be incorporated into her dress .

Exhibit 1:a "portrait of madame x" black outfit with a bat wing-like two part cape(her sacred animal:bat) that is bejeweled with black pearls and diamonds and smokey quartz ,the tiara in that portrait is a reference to diana the roman goddess of the hunt AKA artemis,so it could be a nice tribute to her friendship with artemis in the comic .

exhibit 2: a fully bejeweled gown made out of her symbolic gem stones:Lepidolite, Rhodochrosite and Smoky Quartz, signifying her marriage to the god of wealth(I know she's meant to be anti -capitalist but the comic doesn't follow through with it so ...)the sleeves or other parts (like dress layers)could take the shape of the flower petals of asphodel or Narcissus. Maybe a jewel faux- lily crown too. Along with rubies and spinels to form the shape of pomegranates all over the whole fit.

Exhibit 3:an elegant coat-like dress made out of deer (her own sacred animal)and black ram (hades')and fur . It would be a good nod to the fur coat hades gifted her in S1 and the underworld is cold too so why not(holy ginger snaps I just realized how impractical her official queen outfit is! Like we've been told in that episoide that underworld is cold and yet persephone's dress is sleeveless!girlie's freezing!) Also pearl/alabaster-made faux deer horns could be sprouting from her back like wings

Exhibit 4:a feathery dress as a tribute to her sacred animal:parrots most of the dress could be a nice shade of green with some red and yellow feathers which would be common colors for a parrot and also the color of the bridal dresses for ancient greek and roman noblewomen .

Exhibit 5:Like I said red and yellow /gold were bridal dress colours for greeks and romans,what other things are red and yellow?!wheats and tulips! Demeter's symbols!this could've very well been a sweet tribute from daughter to mother ! Imagine a multi -layered flower gown with deep scarlet and black petal-shaped fabrics to look like tulips and a multi-layered veil to match!!! And then imagine golden embroidered threads in the shape of wheat branches and golden wheat shaped necklace and earrings too! And an emerald ,olivine and topaz choker in the shape of a gecko(demeter's sacred animal)

Of course one could also go ham and just combine all these ideas together and make a maximalistic, artsy,chaoticly gorgeous outfit.I personally like it because it could be a symbol of how playful and fun spring is but also how unpredictable and strange death is!I feel like if rachel took her time and didn't rush things she could give us something extraordinary!!!!!!

As always I hope this ask finds you in good health! Bye bye🌹☘️💖💜🎀💚🌺🌸❤️💕🧡👋🏻👋🏻👋🏻👋🏻👋🏻👋🏻

I remember you! I’m so glad to have you back! Your design is so beautiful by the way and honestly it’s very easy on the eyes too! I could see Persephone wearing something like that and also I’m honestly gushing about all of your exhibits because they’re so sweet and I absolutely love the detail you put in them. The tributes would’ve made the dress not only memorable but also very impactful to her character since Persephone was always supposed to be a more family oriented person (at least in season one when was characterized to be most comfortable with physical touch and around people) and it really would’ve showed us how strong her relationships have become over the past seasons, her friends are really just accessories at this point and they’re only brought up when it’s convenient. Hell even some signifying detail about Hades’ details would’ve been romantic like if they both wore parts of each other’s sacred animals or something like you incorporated, Hades never wears anything to represent Persephone and yet Persephone is supposed to be the one wearing dark colors now it’s just so one sided honestly.

But enough rambling, this was honestly such a sweet ask and I absolutely loved going through all of your ideas! They were genuinely so sweet and I hope everything is going great for you! <3

#lo critical #anti lore olympus #anti lo #lore olympus criticism #lore olympus critical #antiloreolympus

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dragonbanexxi · 10 months

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The Great Bronze Conspiracy

Aegon II x OC Targaryen Royce

***!!!NOT CANON COMPLIANT!!!***

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two very different men sit across from each other, with calculating eyes studying the other diligently.

One dressed in an earthy emerald doublet, with the aurora a poised peacock. The other adorned in his bronze armor encrypted with sacred runes for protection and good fortune.

Two very different men with one distinct mutual hatred for the infamous Rogue Prince.

“You’re a fool if you think there isn’t any better offers for my grandsons hand.” The Hightower man drawls. Eliciting a tight smirk on his companions face.

“You’re a fool if you think if you think you can crown the little princeling king with only Lannister gold and very few allies.” Ser Gerold rebuttals back.

“Marry the prince to niece.” The Bronze Knight says gruffly. “The boy will become King and my niece his queen. She is also just as much of the blood of the dragon as the rest of her paternal family. Wed them and together we will finally put an end to Daemon Targaryen once and fore all.”

The Lord Hightower’s eyes shine with contentment at that last statement. It’s been his greatest desire to get rid of the Rogue Prince for years now. A cocky smile breaks out on his face as he offers his hand to Ser Gerold .

“Very well.” They shake hands firmly.

“Let us join our houses. My grandson with your niece.”

“Long may they reign” Ser Gerold says with a large smile.

“Long may they reign.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 2: Amélia

Every year on the eve of the incoming summer, the Vale’s great noble houses take turns to host the Diamond Ball in Gulltown. An unofficial competition between the noble houses. For each ball hosted is always grandeur than the previous one.

This year the Redfort’s happen to the designated hosts. The Gulltown Venue had been decorated in their house colors. Scarlett red and silver. Beautiful roses placed poised against white roses. The diamond chandeliers sparkling their pretty light throughout the hall. Yet what truly stood out were the striking ice statues carved into various different animals standing stoically over the guest. Such ice no doubt was imported from beyond the wall.

Amélia had been gawking at their beauty when her Uncle Gerold grabbed hold of her arm.

“Let’s us greet Lord Redfort lass.” The girl nods in agreement. Making their way to the strapping lord, who was dressed in a fine black doublet with silver chains hanging from the neck to the shoulders.

“Lord Ashton” Ser Gerold greets his old friend in good spirits. Bowing respectfully. Amélia follows his lead curtsying gracefully.

“My Ser Gerold! Glad you could make it old sport!” They share a brotherly hug, patting their backs heartily.

“Your niece is growing prettier by the day Gerold.” The Lord says taping his finger on the pretty maidens nose.

Amélia hates the gesture but would never be so crass to openly show it. Instead the Lady Royce gushed, and smiled prettily at the old Lord Redfort.

Said lord is quickly swifted away by the incoming noble house of Grafton. Amélia was about to make her way to where the lady Tina Belmore was sitting. A maiden her age with dirty blonde hair and the warmest brown eyes that Amélia is sure she stole from a baby fawn. The Lady Belmore is a close friend of Amélia. Having had fostered two years with the Royce’s at Runestone. They had been attached to the hip in their shared childhood. Even when the time came for them to part, their friendship proved to be as strong as Valyrian Steel.

“Look it’s the little lass of the Redfort” Her uncle said tightening his grip on Amélia’s arm. “We should greet her.”

“Oh I can’t stand that Scarlett!” The beauty whispers poutingly to her uncle-papa. “Papa, you should see the way she throws herself at cousin Yorwick.”

“Now now, that’s your cousins business. You must remember your civilities child. Her family is hosting, it would be rude not to say hello.”

“Lady Scarlett!” Her uncle says jovially. “Good evening.”

The raven haired beauty smirks in her usual lady like charm. Her Scarlett dress’s cleavage showing a generous amount. Just enough for it to be acceptable. A daring dress for a daring girl.

“Ser Gerold. Thank you from coming.” The Redfort girl then gives a faux girlish gasp. “Amélia Royce” sticking her hand out.

The Lady Royce accepts it hesitantly “I almost didn’t recognize you.”

Bullshit Amélia thinks to herself. Both she and Scarlett had a weird affinity for each other, their senses always alerting each other when the other is nearby. The Royce beauty opts to act dumb as well. Now isn’t the time to be picking fights, especially not when there’s an audience.

“Lady Scarlett” Amélia beams with faux cheerfulness. “What a stunning dress, I just can’t keep my eyes off it.” She drawls.

The Redfort girls snake like eyes spark with mischief, yet she lets the Royce’s be on their way. Finally Amélia can go greet her dear friend Tina.

“Millie!” She cries enveloping Amélia in her arms. The Heir of Runestone hugs her friend back happily.

“By the Gods you look beautiful Amélia!” She says. “Powder blue definitely is your color.” Amélia says her thanks you.

The Lady Royce had this gowned specially commissioned for this ball. Though she hadn’t told Ser Gerold that. It was cut in the High Garden style, puffy sleeves, a low neck line that showed off her elegant collar bones and neck. It had embroidered silver flowers throughout the bodice, and pearls sewed throughout the skirt. It was admittedly a pretty penny but if she was going to be the Queen some day, Amélia had to be ahead of the ever changing fashion trends.

The ambience of the venue was booming. Music playing beautifully, many chivalrous men dancing with beautiful maidens. A great many drinking, others gambling. The Lady Jeyne Arryn sitting in the makeshift throne, staring at all the attendees stoically.

Her bored blue eyes locking with Amélia’s brown. There was a hint of disdain in the older woman’s eyes. The silver haired beauty looks away quickly, hoping the Wardeness doesn’t think she was staring.

“There seems to be more people present.” Amélia notes offhandedly.

Her friend Tina smiles in agreement, “There’s a few Westernlanders present.”

“Oh… have you been asked to dance already?”

“Yes actually. A golden haired westerner by the name of Joff Lefford asked my father if he could dance with me.” A blush creeping on the Belmore maidens round face.

“He promised me another.”

“Ooooo” the Lady Royce says childishly. Causing her friend to blush harder.

“Well I bet my shimmy he’ll end up falling in love with you.”

“Amélia” Tina says in horror at her friends crudeness but still manages to laugh.

Later in the evening more lady’s join them, all of them chatting amicably, laughing boisterously every so often. Lady Belmore’s Westernlander finally takes her to his second promised dance. Amélia could see the goofy grin the young man sports while talking to her friend. Lord Lefford is totally smitten with Tina. Gods be good and match between them could be made. Tina deserves a happy life with a good lord husband.

Amélia also accepts a few dances of her own. She dance with a few boys her age and an almaring amount of old men. Her Uncle- Pa had to whisk her away from a few rakish men. With these rake like men she tries her best not to flirt with, not wanting to give the wrong impression. Especially since Ser Gerold had said that her betrothal would be announced soon. She would still allow herself to enjoy these moments however. Knowing well that her time as a youthful maiden will soon come to end.

The beauty steps out the venue for some fresh air, and stretches her arms above her head.

“Psst” she hears a voice to her right. She turns to face who’s trying to get her attention.

“Psst Amélia!” She sees a gloved hand peeking out a wooden door.

“Over here!”

Slowly she makes her way to it. Knocking softly.

“Hello? Who’s in the-“ she couldn’t finish her sentence as she’s pulled into the small shack roughly.

“Ooff” she huffs out. Looking up to see the snakish blue eyes of Scarlett Redfort.

“What are you doing in here?” She whispers. Scarlett puts a little hook through a loop connected to the wall, locking them in.

“I’m bored.” She says shrugging her shoulders. “You’re the only one among that flock of frightens hens who knows how to have fun.”

Amélia purses her lips but doesn’t say anything. Scarlett opens a bottle, taking a swig and handing it to Amélia.

“Northern Whiskey” she says simply, with a coy smile.

Amélia bring the bottle to her nose scrunching her face at the pungent smell. She braves herself to take a swig. A burning sensation trails down her throat.

“It gets better with practice.” Scarlett muses.

Amélia takes another swig. Handing the bottle to Scarlett once more. They sit there in the shack for another five minute passing the bottle back and forth until both girls begin to feel lighter. Amélia wouldn’t say she’s drunk but if she continues she will be.

“That’s enough for me.” She says “the last thing I need is Uncle Gerold berating me in front of the whole canteen for being drunk.”

The Lady Redfort however takes a few more swigs. Her sleeves falling off her shoulders exposing more cleavage. Her devilish eyes notice Amélia’s eyes on them. Scarlett grazes her slender fingers over them teasingly. Like a cat on the prowl, Scarlett makes her way to where Amélia is sitting and sits herself upon her lap, wrapping her arms around her neck. Nuzzling their noses together tenderly.

“Kiss me.” Scarlett Redfort says in a seductive whisper.

Amélia didn’t have to be told twice.

#daemon targaryen x rhea royce #targaryen royce oc #original targaryen character #oc!targaryenroyce #aegon ii fic #aegon ii x oc #bisexual oc #aegon the usurper

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shroommoss · 2 years

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do you think pearl is ever ashamed of what the hermitcraft kingdom has become? she remembers how power and greed had once warped the friendships of rulers just as they now do the hermits. she’s seen empires fall to the same hubris, battling over a crown that could rule all empires.

pearl was done with the fighting and power. what was once an enjoyment became their hamartia. she lost her friends, her lands, her empire all to the false sense of security derived from power and control. do you think thats why she’s picked up the sword again? why shes challenged the crown and his lackeys.

even if she may not recall the memories, the raw remnants of devastation and grief was enough to remind her what power could do. do you think she's disappointed in ren? he had a good thing going with the server quests until the diamonds blurred his vision and the emeralds were injected.

maybe she doesn't deserve the crown, but at least she already knows how to rule a kingdom properly.

#i just think its cool that the two people who've run empires before are leading the rebellion #pearlescentmoon #hermitcraft #hermitcraft s9 #empires pearl #neris thoughts #neris scribbles

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deepseawarlock · 8 months

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The Tale of the Sea Warlock and the Fae Knight

In the magical realm of the Moorlands, where the sea meets the enchanted forests, a sea warlock named Ulysses and a shapeshifting fox named Odile found themselves on an unexpected path towards destiny.

Odile, a valiant knight in service of the fae kingdom, was given a crucial mission by her crowned prince. The kingdom was facing grave troubles with a portal that threatened to spill chaos and darkness into their realm. The only hope lay in finding a set of ancient emeralds said to possess the power to stabilize the portal and restore harmony.

Knowing that Ulysses held profound knowledge of the arcane arts and hidden secrets of the sea, Odile embarked on a perilous journey to seek his aid. Ulysses, a recluse with a deep connection to the ocean depths, had long withdrawn himself from the affairs of kingdoms. However, fate had other plans in store.

As Odile reached the shores where Ulysses dwelled, the sea warlock sensed her presence, his curiosity awakened by the unfamiliar magic that accompanied her. With a mixture of wariness and intrigue, Ulysses emerged from the depths, his eyes meeting Odile's.

Their initial encounters were marked by cautious exchanges, as Odile explained the dire situation her kingdom faced and the importance of the emeralds in sealing the unstable portal. Ulysses, initially hesitant to involve himself in the affairs of the fae, felt a stirring within him—a pull towards Odile, her determination, and the noble cause she championed.

Recognizing the significance of their shared purpose, Ulysses and Odile decided to join forces. Their journey to secure the emeralds took them through treacherous waters, ancient ruins, and hidden realms where mythical creatures guarded the precious stones.

As they faced each challenge together, a bond began to form between Ulysses and Odile. Their interactions revealed layers of vulnerability and strength, slowly breaking down the walls they had built around their hearts. Ulysses, drawn to Odile's unwavering loyalty and fierce determination, found himself falling for the shapeshifting fox knight.

Their combined skills proved invaluable in their quest. Odile's agility and combat prowess protected them from the perils they encountered, while Ulysses' mastery of sea magic allowed them to navigate treacherous watery depths and communicate with mystical sea creatures who held vital clues.

Through their determination and unwavering trust in one another, Ulysses and Odile triumphed over numerous challenges, unlocking the secrets guarding each emerald. With each stone secured, the power within the emeralds resonated, creating a harmonious aura that would aid their kingdom in stabilizing the troubled portal.

As they returned to the fae kingdom, Ulysses and Odile were hailed as heroes, their successful retrieval of the emeralds celebrated throughout the realm. The emeralds were placed at strategic points around the portal, their combined energy forming a protective barrier that sealed the chaos and darkness, restoring peace and balance to the fae realm.

In the aftermath of their quest, Ulysses and Odile's bond deepened, transcending their roles as warlock and knight. Their love blossomed amidst the triumph and magic, intertwining their lives in a tale of resilience, sacrifice, and an unyielding spirit to protect what they held dear.

United by a shared destiny and bound by love, Ulysses and Odile continued to serve their kingdom, their journey together a testament to the power of love, friendship, and the unwavering determination to safeguard the realms of magic from the forces that sought to disrupt their delicate equilibrium.

@curseofmoons

#[v; a love permanent like ink & strong like onyx]#[ship: ulysses x odile]#curseofmoons

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technoblade-updates · 1 year

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I posted 392 times in 2022

337 posts created (86%)

55 posts reblogged (14%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@technoblade-updates

@philza-updates

@sophietexas-updates

@wilbursoot-updates

@awesamponk-updates

I tagged 389 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#technoblade - 246 posts

#mcyt - 246 posts

#mod luna - 183 posts

#image id - 171 posts

#no id in alt text - 160 posts

#not an update - 142 posts

#asks - 134 posts

#dream smp - 65 posts

#dsmp - 65 posts

#youtube - 28 posts

Longest Tag: 127 characters

#i can add timestamps for scott too if y'all want but he joins pretty late and techno just says bye and leaves after wilbur ends

My Top Posts in 2022:

MCC has added a monument to Techno in the MCC lobby!

[Image ID:

A cropped screenshot of Techno’s memorial in the MCC hub from the update video for MCC 23. It consists of a wooden slab with a custom diamond sword with a stone hilt embedded into it. The sword’s connection between guard and hilt is decorated with a golden pig face and a custom version of Techno’s crown hangs from one side of the guard.

End ID]

9,244 notes - Posted July 22, 2022

A tribute to Techno has been added to the Java Minecraft Launcher.

[Image ID:

A cropped screenshot of the current banner displayed on the Java Minecraft launcher. It shows Steve and Alex running out of a cave in the side of a hill surrounded by a variety of peaceful and hostile mobs, including a pig wearing Technoblade's crown.

End ID]

10,770 notes - Posted July 2, 2022

Techno’s plan for the Dream SMP was to have his main character “Technoblade” go off on a training arc while he plays a new character named “Cyberknife” who loves government in the new world of the Dream SMP that can be accessed via the special portal. He was going to involve as many smaller creators on the Dream SMP as he could and the Syndicate minus Techno would investigate this new character for anarchy related reasons!

10,903 notes - Posted August 4, 2022

Some updates

- Techno will be receiving the Courage Award from the Sarcoma Foundation of America in September for his dedication to the cause. You can read about it here.

- A Mojang Community Manager on reddit has confirmed that Mojang is thinking of ways to honour Techno, but without any details as to how they will be doing so. Link to their reddit comment.

- Techno’s channel hit 12 million subscribers on YouTube! That means he’s overtaken Tommy again.

- Phil has built a monument to Techno in his hardcore world. It consists of a diamond sword rammed into an island, with Techno’s cape hung from the hilt. A Friendship Emerald hangs from one side of the sword’s hand guard. Techno’s crown sits around where the sword meets the earth, with Phil having tried to replicate the scuffedness of the gems as best he could. A trident named “Technoblade Never Dies” is hung in an item frame on the crown. There is a bell on an emerald block and 2 pigs tethered next to the monument.

See the full post

17,736 notes - Posted July 2, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

The splashtext “Technoblade Never Dies!” has been added to Minecraft!

20,312 notes - Posted July 6, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #not an update #long post

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i-only-write-in-purple-ink · 1 year

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Day 2: Crown (12 Days of Writers Self Love)

I couldn’t decide which of two ideas I wanted to do more, so I did them both! Apologies if this got a little long. I really did enjoy writing these, this challenge is turning out wonderfully! Many thanks to @writeblrfantasy for creating it!

1. Hermitcraft Season 8, White Wings AU (main story here) 2. Hermitcraft Season 9, Third Life SMP

1. HC Season 8, White Wings AU

Tommy had seen many crowns in his lifetime.

The gem-encrusted crown of the SMP, first worn by Eret, and then George.

Ranboo’s humble diadem, studded with rough-cut rubies and emeralds mined by hand from the depths of the earth.

The golden spikes adorning the top of Sam’s Warden armor, fused to the mask he had worn more and more often.

Techno’s simple golden circlet, twin to Phil’s silver one, relics of an empire long past.

But he had never worn one of his own before now.

False measured out a length of copper wire before presenting it to Tommy with a wink. “It’s easier if you start with this.”

Gem taught him how to weave stalks of grass together, how to twist and braid the fragile stems around the wire until they formed something resilient, stronger. Something complete.

Stress regaled him with the meanings of different flowers, what made them grow the best, which ones were good for tea or scents or dyes. Under her careful eye he worked Queen Anne’s lace, lavender, daffodils, and yellow orchids into the strands of his masterpiece.

Iskall chuckled as he swept a lock of Tommy’s ivory hair away from his eyes. “Ready?” He asked, his organic eye twinkling with warmth as it darted around Tommy’s face. Tommy nodded, expression implacable, and Iskall placed the completed flower crown gracefully among his curls. The Swede examined his handiwork for a moment, tucking hair or flowers into place, before nodding in satisfaction.

Iskall picked up his own creation from the ground beside him, sporting purple asters and orange orchids, and crowned himself with a flourish. Tommy tilted his head, judging through squinted eyes. After a few seconds a small smile rose to his face, and he nodded in approval. It's good. I like it, he signed.

A small noise made them both turn to where Xisuma was seated on the soft grass, his crown of blue bellflowers and pink dahlias resting crookedly on top of his helmet. He was struggling to right it, but the mechanical axolotl gills on either side of his visor made it so that the woven headress kept slipping. “I guess I’m just not made for crowns,” he said good-naturedly when he noticed them looking, giving up the fight and leaving the flowers slightly off-kilter.

Perfect, Tommy signed to him, and the admin let out a surprised laugh. “Perfect? I suppose it does suit me. I’m a bit of derp even on the best of days.”

Tommy leaned back, and let the sun hit his face. Laughter danced in the wind as the Hermits delighted in the carefree summer day. He had never felt so far and yet so close to home.

-----

// Yes, I know these flowers wouldn’t all exist in the same climate as each other. But honestly this is Minecraft fanfiction so lower your expectations and let me have my dramatic flower symbolism :’D

// I really like that trope in fiction, I wish people did more of it. And can you tell I’m a sucker for found family? Lol

// Not me giving my headcanons for the DSMP crowns and forgetting all about the MCC champion team crowns. 💀 MCC is only sort of canon to this universe.... we can chalk it up to ww!Tommy never participating in MCC before, that’s only for the really famous competitive types like Technoblade and Grian. Yep. Definitely no plotholes here.

// Flower Meanings vvv

Tommy:

Queen Anne’s lace (safety, sanctuary, and refuge)

Lavender (purity, silence, serenity)

Daffodils (rebirth, new beginnings)

Yellow Orchids (new beginnings, friendship, joy)

Iskall:

Asters (love, wisdom, trust)

Orange Orchids (pride, enthusiasm, boldness)

Xisuma:

Bellflowers (affection, constancy, unwavering love)

Pink Dahlias (elegance, grace, kindness)

2. HC Season 9, 3rd Life SMP

Kingmaker. That’s what they called him.

Ren rolled the chess piece between his fingers, relishing the weight of the solid obsidian. It made a satisfying clack as he placed it back in its spot on the board. The black queen.

If he was the king, the ruler over the entire Hermitcraft server, then Bdubs would be his queen. He certainly wielded enough power; it was through Bdubs’ support alone that Ren won the crown. Bdubs was the one who built the Crastle for him, who was his advisor, defender, friend. His second-in-command, his right… hand….

Ren frowned, unease rising in his gut, a sudden chill burning the tips of his fingers. He curled his hands into fists on reflex. Something wasn’t right.

He rose from his throne with a growl and swept down the stairs from the royal dais, his cape billowing out behind him. His paws made no noise on the plush carpet running down the center of the throne room, keeping away the chill of solid stone.

“Sir BdoubleO? Your king summons you!” Ren called, his voice echoing through the empty stone halls. He waited a few moments, but only silence answered.

“Bdubs? Where are youuuuu….” His words bounced eerily off of the cavernous ceilings, echoing back as if mocking him. He hesitantly ventured down a hallway, turned, and was faced with an identical hallway. He followed it, but that only yielded another similar looking passageway. The next was almost exactly the same. And the next. Ren frowned. He hadn’t remembered there being quite this many corridors in his Crastle.

He followed more turns, traversed more corridors, calls going unheard and unanswered, until he realized he was well and truly lost. Ren stopped at a four-way intersection, glancing down each hall. They all felt familiar, but was that because they looked the same or because he truly recognized them?

Ren pulled his cloak tighter around himself, shivering. And when had it gotten so cold? He needed to tell Bdubs to install some sort of heating system in the castle, like magma blocks behind the walls or something. These were not livable temperatures, certainly not for a king.

Ren’s breath had begun to fog the air by the time he reached something that certainly didn’t belong: a set of arched glass doors, metalwork spiraling intricately across their frosted surface. The metal handles were bitterly cold, but they turned without protest as he pushed the double doors open.

Beyond lay a courtyard, dead branches hanging like corpses over flowerbeds full of dried leaves. A few inches of snow was dusted over everything in sight, drifting heavily in the corners and on the trees. Ren’s trepidation spiked. It was supposed to be summer on the Hermitcraft server, after all. And the Crastle didn’t have an interior garden.

He stepped out into the courtyard, bracing himself against the freezing gusts of air. His royal cape was woefully equipped to protect him from the full wrath of a winter’s wind. The harsh blasts died down into a biting breeze as he neared the center of the courtyard, snow crunching beneath his paws. Ren scarcely minded the cold as he stared wide-eyed at the centerpiece of this unnatural display.

A large stone altar rose from the ground, more of an elevated platform than anything else. Ren ascended its steps, captivated by the rough, indecipherable runes hewn deep into the surface. Lines had been cut straight across the top slab, radiating out from a shallow, bowl-like indentation at the middle. Blood channels, Ren realized with a growing horror. Blood channels that had clearly already been used.

A sudden growl had him tensing, ears lying flat and lips pulled back into a snarl. The sound seemed to emenate from every corner of the courtyard at once, circling as one would stalk prey. It was more than a threat. This was the hunting call of a predator.

Ren scanned the courtyard wildly, but there was nothing to see except a slate-gray sky bordered by gargoylic crenelations and the first few flurries of snowfall. The rumbling grew louder and louder, until the very air trembled before it. Oh, little wolf, the voice purred, smugly satisfied and impossibly deep.

“Who are you?” Ren shouted at the sky, hating the way his voice had gone high-pitched with fear.

The voice merely chuckled, the sinister whisper of a blade pulled from its sheath. Winter is coming, it intoned. And the crown weighs heavy.

Ren spun in place, breaths coming sharp and cold biting at his lungs. The voice was crushing him from all sides, pushing him down to his hands and knees on the cold, stone altar.

Do ye have what it takes to be KING, Rendog?

And Ren woke in his royal bedchambers, gasping for air and sheets soaked in sweat. His hands didn’t stop shaking for the rest of the day.

-----

// I am just now getting into the 3rd life fandom (yes, a year late) and holy cow I love the Red King so much!! Big kudos to dog at the door by fluffy_papaya and iamsolarflare for getting me hooked on Ren’s lore, it’s one of my favorite fics ever.

// For the voice, have you heard the voice of the Old God N’Zoth from the Warbringers short? Yeah, that but with a hint of Scottish accent. Very dark and powerful-sounding.

Deal? I like deals.... *eldritch laughter*

- N’Zoth the Corruptor

#12 days of writers self love #hermitcraft #white wings au #eburnean #eburnean tommy #hermitcraft season 8 #hermitcraft season 9 #third life #3rd life smp #the red king #rendog #fanfiction #why is this so much easier to write than regular chapters #happy december y'all

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fourleaf-lorwolf · 1 year

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Escapade

It was his palace, his kingdom; he could clearly see the peaks of the Skymaw towering above him. Yet at the same time it wasn’t his palace, because it was all in ruins. The young wolf padded softly through the ruins, his ears twitching in an attempt to hear something other than his own pawsteps. But there was nothing. The ruins were completely abandoned.. Or were they?

He whipped around, barely catching sight of a shadow disappearing around the corner. Who was that? For a moment he stood still, almost as if unsure of what to do. But he did know; he had done this many times before.

One pawstep, then another. He was out of the ruins. The wind whipped around him, snowflakes slicing under his thick fur like frozen claws. It wasn’t safe out in this storm, that was for sure. He turned around.

She stood there behind him, as if waiting. Her spotted pelt was barely visible through the swirling snow, but her emerald eyes seemed to glow brighter than the moon.

He could see the dark, horned shadow looming behind her. He could hear a voice. Was it his? He wasn't sure. There was a bright flash of light, and everything went dark.

“Prince Rayelin,” a sharp, commanding voice broke through his thoughts, pulling him back to the world. “Answer the question.”

He coughed quietly, blinking the sharp sting of the incense from his eyes. “Yes. I, Prince Rayelin of Blizzardcrest, swear by Orrin’s Fangs to uphold the alliance.”

“Tell me about it.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” Rayelin growled. He pulled off his cloak, throwing it in the corner with a frustrated sigh.

“You saw her again, didn’t you?”

“Kenta, you shouldn’t be here.”

“Why don’t you just go to her?”

“Because I don't know where she is!” Rayelin snapped, glaring at the snowcat. “Because it’s not princely to go running off into the world looking for friendship!”

Kenta moved closer, curling their tail around the wolf. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

“Are you suggesting we run away?”

“What’s stopping us?”

“My parents are stopping us.”

‘I’ve always wanted to see the world beyond Icerun, you don't want to lead the pack… it’s the perfect plan, Raye. We carry out this dumb ceremony, and when we get to the mountains we slip away.”

“That can’t possibly work.”

“We’ll try it, okay? Besides, they need us. What’s the worst that can happen?”

Rayelin could think of plenty of things. But he couldn't bring himself to say them. There was no arguing with his companion.

“Moonrise tonight,” Kenta purred, padding softly toward the window. A moment later, they were gone.

Kenta was insane. Sneaking up here every day to keep him company was one thing, but suggesting that they run away? Rayelin shook his head. There was no way it would ever happen.

And yet, some part of him wondered if it really was too good to be true. He’d be the first in his bloodline to run from the crown. A prince giving up the diplomatic lifestyle of a royal was rare, but not unheard of. Perhaps, with a bit of luck, it could work. Perhaps, finally, he could stop being Prince of Blizzardcrest. Perhaps, finally, he could just be Rayelin.

The sharp smell of incense filled his nose and stung his eyes once more. His cloak felt heavy on his shoulders as he fought back his nervousness. He could feel the watchful eyes of the pack on him, staring into his soul. There was no way this could work.

Kenta grinned at him from across the room, surrounded by an entourage of snowcat royalty. This was the one night that even the solitary snowcats came together to celebrate, if it could even be called a celebration. How could they not be worried about the plan? Or maybe they were nervous, and just good at hiding it.

The hall, once filled with quiet murmurs, fell silent suddenly as the leaders of Blizzardcrest stepped to the center of the stage. Rayelin closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He had to focus.

“Welcome, friends,” Rayelin’s father stepped forward, his deep voice carrying across the gathered crowd. “You are here to witness the final stage of this ancient ceremony. For many centuries, the wolves of Blizzardcrest have upheld an alliance with the snowcats of Icerun…”

Rayelin could practically feel himself falling asleep. He closed his eyes, letting his mind wander. If the ceremony went through as planned, the pair would be headed to the peaks of Orrin’s Fangs. They would go alone, yet together, and that would be their chance to slip away. If they went down the far side of the mountains, perhaps the guards wouldn’t notice them. Not until it was too late, anyway.

“I, King Keldrak, and Queen Saiji now call the heirs to the stage.”

Rayelin glanced at Kenta, who was already stepping forward. This was it.

The only thing he could feel was fear. Fear that ran colder and deeper than the worst of Icerun’s blizzards. Fear that they had been caught.

“I thought you said the far side of the peaks would be unguarded!” Rayelin snapped, glancing back at the angry pack that chased them.

“I thought it wouldn’t be!” Kenta growled back.

“Now what are we supposed to do?”

“Just keep running! I’ll think of something.”

The rocky terrain soon gave way to snowy fields, making running easier. Rayelin slowed to follow Kenta, knowing the snowcat would be able to dodge the hidden crevasses beneath the snow.

Everything had gone wrong. First, the wind had kicked up, creating a small hurricane of snow that delayed the ceremonies. Then it was decided that a group of guards should accompany the duo to the peaks, in case of any further danger. And then the guards had, for some unknown reason, circled around to the back of the mountain, and alerted both the pack and the snowcats to the pair’s escapade.

Rayelin cast a quick glance at Kenta as they ran. They couldn't run for much longer; even Rayelin could feel himself tiring. The sounds of their hunters were quickly fading behind them, though it was some time before either of them noticed.

“I think we’re safe,” Rayelin panted. “We can probably stop running now.”

Kenta glanced behind them, then slowed to a stop. “That was awesome.”

“Awesome? We almost get caught, and… okay, yeah, it was.” Rayelin laughed softly. He was too happy to pretend to be upset. They were finally free. He glanced around at the seemingly endless snowfield. “Where do we go from here?”

“You tell me, Prince.”

“I am not a prince! Not anymore. Today, I become just Rayelin!”

“Okay, just Rayelin, where do we go from here?”

Rayelin sat and stared at his companion, completely clueless.

“Maybe I should rephrase that,” Kenta mused. “Where does your girlfriend say we should go from here?”

“She is not my girlfriend!” Rayelin growled defensively. He kept the second part to himself: But I wish she was. “They’re probably still hunting us. They probably won’t ever stop hunting us, so we should get as far away as possible.”

“Murkwood, then,” Kenta said triumphantly. They started to march off, heading for what Rayelin could only hope was a way out of the snowfields.

“Murkwood?” Rayelin echoed. “On the other side of the continent?”

“We have to get as far away as possible, right?”

“But…”

“But nothing,” the snowcat replied simply. “I got us out of the mountains. I can get us out of this snowfield, and out of Icerun, and far away from here.”

“Sure,” the wolf growled softly. He knew the snowcat was right. Kenta was always right – or rather, Kenta was right most of the time.

The companions fell to silence as they walked. The sun was starting to rise now, the clouds overhead parting with a gentle breeze. Rayelin lost himself in his thoughts once more, trying to ignore the cold that was seeping into his fur.

He was happy, wasn’t he? This was what he had wanted, after all. Life as a commoner, without the flashy jewels and warm blankets and luxurious pillows that the royals of the palace possessed.

Perhaps he felt a smidge of doubt, thinking about his future. Perhaps he felt some regret, leaving an easy life of royalty for a life of hardship and survival. Perhaps he had made the wrong choice.

If he’d even had a choice in the first place, of course. Maybe this wasn’t his choice at all. He thought he had never believed those ancient tales, stories of how the Creators decided the fate of all of Loria. But as he gazed out across the snowfield, he began to realize that maybe he did.

This was what the Creators wanted for him. This was his fate. This was his life now.

#lorwolf #lore #pack lore #writing #the lucky ones

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suowhy · 2 years

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For no exact reason: c!Technoblade Prompts here! You can grab whatever one you want, or ask for others to choose smth for you, and create something with it, be it fanart, little one-shot or something else! Every prompt will be about Character Technoblade from the Dream SMP, I’m just lazy to write c! every time, lmao

Technoblade’s childhood

Twins duo meetup

Emerald duo’s friendship emeralds

The Moment Technoblade Decided To Grow His Hair Long

Gold

Unexpected friendship

Missing an old friend

Mistakes and how you make up for them

Forgiveness

Training

Character growth

Technoblade and his pets

Letting someone else wear your crown

Technoblade’s thoughts on how Dream changes throughout the time

Seeing yourself in someone

Jealousy

Modern AU Technoblade chooses his outfit

Taking with Niki or Phil about Revivebur

Hybrids AU - And Technoblade is not a piglin

Dsmp aftermath

#dream smp #dsmp #dsmp techno #technoblade dsmp #c!techno #prompts #just grab one if you feel like you out of ideas

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casspurrjoybell-25 · 1 month

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The Healer of Shakkara - Book One

*Warning Adult Content*

Chapter 17 - The Pinedark Forest - Part 1

Galen felt at home in the forests around Dern.

The woods were his sanctuary and he had seldom come upon a strange or unknown creature there.

The Wild Green Forest was different.

For the first few days, the trees and plants, birds, insects and fungi were familiar and the travelers had a pleasant time, walking well-worn paths beneath stately trees.

There were many little streams, with water clear and sweet... wild onion, watercress, raspberry and crab-apple clustered the banks and made fine additions to their fare.

They slept soundly on carpets of soft, sweet-scented moss or in open meadows beneath bright stars, where the grass was long and dry.

Animals were abundant, too.

Galen glimpsed many fowls, squirrels and rabbits, deer with little fawns and once... a magnificent stag with a many-branching crown.

Then, gradually, the forest grew wilder and more strange.

The trees became larger and older, their trunks clothed in emerald mosses and beards of lichen hanging from their boughs.

Ferns carpeted the ground and a rich, loamy scent rose from the ground underfoot.

In places, the trees were spaced far apart, like the pillars of a great hall... in others, their tangled limbs formed a barricade that made travel slow and difficult.

Sevhalim explained that not every region of the Wild Green was the same.

Some were relatively tame... others were impenetrable wilderness.

Likewise, some were safe and others rife with peril.

The path he had chosen for them crossed... by necessity... through a variety of each.

As they walked, the party exchanged tales.

With hunters and boars left far behind, the weather fair and their surroundings scenic, spirits lifted and tentative friendships formed.

Triss and Rea took archery practice together every morning, challenging one another to smaller and more distant targets, while Iksthanis showed Behn how to find wild herbs and how to identify which mushrooms were safe to eat.

Meanwhile, Sevhalim and Zenír taught Galen how to meditate.

"Mental focus is the foundation of magic," Zenír said.

"It is the bedrock on which all greater work is built," his voice was soft and soothing and Galen found him easy to listen to.

For the first few days, the instruction was simple... focus on something and stay focused.

Zenír focused on a sound... a single tone he hummed beneath his breath... while Galen followed Sev's lead and chose a mental image.

He envisioned a little star of light, which increased and decreased in brightness with his breath.

It was enjoyable, once he found his center and exhilarating once he felt the result... the more he practiced... the more he sensed the power lying dormant and untapped within his core.

He sensed the ambient energies surrounding him too... the vast, ancient power, quiet and deep... a complex web of life.

Opening himself to it, he called forth his own magic just a little and released it like an offering to the great trees.

It escaped him like tiny effervescent bubbles, rising from his heart and floating free from his uplifted palms.

A soft gasp broke his concentration and he opened his eyes to find Zenír staring... which was odd, as the man was blind.

"I can see it," Zenír breathed, eyes wide as he reached towards Galen.

"The magic."

Galen realized he could see it, too.

All about him, tiny dots of emerald light, like dust in a sunbeam, sparkled in the air.

He brushed his hand through them but with his concentration broken, they vanished like embers on a breeze.

"Jewel of Sakkara," Sev murmured and... to Galen's slight discomfort... pressed his hands together and bowed his head.

"I don't know what that is," Galen said, grimacing.

"But... I'm not it."

Sev held his gaze, his princely features set with strange sincerity.

"You are in my eyes, P'Yrha," he murmured.

Unaccountably, Galen flushed.

Hoping to brush off the awkwardness, he rose.

"I think I'll see if Obi needs help with the firewood," he said.

As he walked away, Zenír spoke in a soft tone.

"Be careful, Sev. Best not to get attached."

It was clear he meant not to be overheard and Galen wondered if perhaps the prolonged sessions of focus had sharpened his hearing a little.

"Don't worry, Zen," Sev answered in an equally low voice.

"I know my duty well enough. You need not remind me of it."

"It is for you I worry, Sev," Zenír answered.

"Your duty will mind itself... I imagine."

Sev sighed.

"That is what I fear."

They said no more but Galen pondered what he'd heard.

Perhaps when the opportunity arose, he would ask Sev exactly what his duty entailed.

********

On the sixth day, the forest changed once more and became less pleasant.

Little by little, there were fewer oak and alder, poplar and fir and more of a certain, densely growing pine.

The trunks had rough, grey bark and the needle-like leaves were short, sharp and bristly.

In places, the trees grew so close together it was difficult to find a way through and they had no choice but to travel some distance in search of a clear path.

Finally, on the opposite side of a small clearing, they came upon a wall of such pines, beyond which no other species grew.

"What unpleasant trees," Behn remarked grumpily, eyeing the barrier with distaste.

"Indeed," Sev agreed, gesturing at the wall of narrow trunks.

"This is the edge of the Pinedark, as the region is called. The young trees choke out their competition. Gradually, the weaker ones die off, so the older the forest, the more spread out they'll be but only of one kind and still close enough to make a perpetual twilight beneath their boughs. I'm afraid this is the end of our pleasant woodland wanderings, for now."

Unhappily, the group bade farewell to the sunlit meadow and followed Sev into the gloom beneath the pines.

Soon, the branches overhead grew so thickly the travelers caught only occasional glimpses of the sky and then even those disappeared.

With no way to judge the time of day, only a gradual darkening told them night would soon descend.

They camped in a level place but no one slept well.

The thick layers of pine-needles carpeting the ground might have made good bedding, if they were not sharp enough to stab through cloth.

After a prickly night, they rose and broke camp and carried on.

The deeper they went into the pines, the less Galen liked the place.

Little grew there apart from the trees and the sparse bracken beneath.

Everything was grey or brown and eerily still.

The few birds they heard had strange, forlorn calls and the beasts they glimpsed were oddly dark and blended with the gloom.

Once, Galen spotted a deer with a sable coat and even the squirrels were grey or black.

For a while, they did their best to keep the oppressive quiet at bay with laughter and song and with tales of past adventures but soon, even the most talkative of them fell silent.

By the third day, they were all on edge and spoke in whispers and jumped at the snap of twigs underfoot.

It didn't help that the trees seemed almost to have a language of their own and chattered among themselves in creaky voices, rubbing their branches together in strange conspiracy.

"It's just the wind," Sev assured them when a particularly loud outburst of creaking swept overhead, as if the trees were passing a secret along.

"What wind?" Behn asked, swishing his hand through the stagnant air, wide-eyed and spooked.

"There's plenty of wind above the trees," Sev said.

"They're quite tall. We can't feel it down here, so it seems as if they're moving on their own."

Reassured by this explanation, they paid less heed to the creaking. The howling and the eyes were another matter.

That night, Galen woke from an uneasy sleep.

All was still beneath the trees and pitch-black beyond the ring of firelight, as usual.

Behn snored softly on his left and Triss lay curled on her side to his right.

Sev sat nearby, his back resting against the trunk of a tree, with his eyes shut.

Galen couldn't tell if he was awake or not.

A few paces away, at the edge of the light, Iksthanis stood on watch, his broad-shouldered shape blending with the gloom.

Galen shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position and willed himself back to sleep.

The one good thing about the Pinedark, so far, was that the ground was relatively flat.

That was changing and the coming day promised to be a hard one, filled with grueling climbs and steep descents.

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