witcher2005



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    The soul in their arms did not so much speak as it did sing. Its voice rang clearer than ever before, rising like the wind rustling through leaves of the forest, like a gentle breeze across wide fields of sweet grass. It made its wish known plainly, its innermost thoughts laid bare.

    The gods smiled. 

    ‘We are agreed.’

    The Stranger departed, its services no longer needed for the time being.

    And soon after in the arena, a quiet miracle occurred. Magic shifted and — where moments before the man had lain prone and breathless — Ser Duncan the Tall gasped awake to the sound of Prince Aegon’s desperate pleas and to the sight of a trial yet unfinished, his eyes alight with new life and glowing a color as blue and pure as the sky.  

    ***

    What if Dunk had died during his trial of Seven?

    What if he had lived?

    In which, having the gods' favor may have changed the course of history for the lands of ice and fire. But nothing in life ever comes cleanly.

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    23 Mar 2026

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    Duncan never imagined having another chance. "I suppose if you'll have me," he began, kneeling down before Baelor on the grassy field. "I swear to cling to you so often, you'll pray I start avoiding you, your Grace."

    There was a smile along Baelor's lips, sunlight splitting through his tufts of black and silver streaked hair. "Will my prayers be answered?" He asked, tilting his head in curiosity. He was handsome with it short, majestic now that it was longer.

    Duncan grew fierce. "The old gods and the new wouldn’t be able to keep me away."

    *

    When Baelor miraculously survives the gash to his head, Duncan is his Knight. Through politics, travel, friendship, and especially training his stubborn nephew Egg.

    Then the dragon hatches for the first time in sixty years, and it’s clear to Duncan that their story has only just begun.

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    28 Feb 2026

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    "The crown suits you, you know," said Ser Duncan over the cacophony, bringing Baelor back to himself. "Makes you look... you know. Kingly. Which I suppose makes sense, seeing as how you're the king now." A look of anguish crossed his face. "Oh, hells, I shouldn't be calling you 'you,' should I? It's 'Your Grace.' Please don't take—"

    Baelor resisted the urge to rest his hand against the lad's back, as one might soothe a skittish horse. "No offense was taken, ser."

    "Thank you," Ser Duncan said, then immediately amended, "thank Your Grace...ness. Seven fucks, I'm getting another drink." And he whirled away into the throng before Baelor could say a word.


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    07 Feb 2026

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    In the Seven Kingdoms, only an alpha can be sworn a knight of the realm. Somehow, Dunk's gone this long without presenting as anything. But Ser Lyonel Baratheon has a talent for getting him hot under the collar.

    Should mean nothing. Let the games begin.

    (a remix of the show, but make it omegaverse)

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    27 Jan 2026

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    The vivid clarity of the world around himself, draped in a dark cloak of night that his enhanced eyes saw through as if it were but a thin sheet; the crisp autumn air tickling the inside of his nostrils with such saturation that it almost felt like he could taste the coming winter on the tip of his tongue. The breeze that came from this altitude tickled his bare skin, and despite its ineffectual chill against his strengthened flesh, goosebumps climbed up his neck from the tactile sensitivity he bore against its breath.

    Everything felt so real, realer and fresher than it'd ever been. If that made sense, which it probably didn’t.

    His senses then were just so alive that he didn’t think he could recall a time he’d ever been so… aware, of everything.

    Toji fucking Fushiguro. Who would've guessed. In the middle of Shibuya too, like, really?

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    23 Jan 2026