#destiny verse

[incorrectlegoes]

Vendel: At first I thought you were foolish and incompetent.

Corrin: My apologies for whatever misstep I may have taken to dispel that impression.

Corrin: It was an honest mistake, I swear.

[pawnshopsouls]

“Whatcha need, brother?”

The Drifter’s voice was gleeful, almost a little too much so, for so early in the morning. “I’ve got a troupe about to head out to Europa for a field trip. You want in?”

@take-a-gambit

Bonely gave a chuckle and shook his head. "Me? Back at Europa? No, thank you. I don't do the whole 'bein' frozen in place' thing very well."

He gave Drifter's shoulder a hefty pat before leaning back on the railing. "Actually, uh, I came teh ask yeh a few questions. Been hearin' some strange stuff floatin' around the Bistro recently. Guardians talkin' about tithes, certain ghosts not bein' comfortable with it, and somethin' about a someone called 'Eris'. Know anythin'?"

[mando-of-esverr]

Mathafew had found every possible excuse to avoid returning to their apartment at the Tower. He had tried to help service the ship, had pestered both the pilot and Salem, found someone to issue a report to, checked his father’s mail - everything he could think of. Eventually there had been nothing else to do except return to the empty home.

Nothing had been moved of course but it felt massive and empty and he felt like a small child again. Kept as a hostage against his father’s return. The nightmare specter was always at the back of his mind and Mathafew eventually found something strong to help him sleep and numb his mind.

He was woken by someone else coming into the apartment. The young man’s head was full of static still, and he rubbed his blurry eyes trying to see who had come in. A threat of some sort? Mathafew looked at the tall shape with pale long features. Did he know this man? Something in the thin face was familiar… Where was Stoat? The boy looked around the room and then back to the man who was staring at him just as intently.

“Dad?” Had his father found his way home somehow? Was that where Stoat had gone, to fetch him back? No…no something wasn’t right and Mathafew suddenly wished he could think properly, he rubbed at his face trying to wake up properly.

@sundanceofapache

Darius’s head hung low as he stood at his door in the tower, his heart and mind as raw as road rash from a crashed sparrow. He didn’t want to go in and see his and his brother's things in there. He didn’t want to see his jacket and knives and trophies, all waiting as if his brother would still come home. He wanted to go out and drink, or fight or something to make the pain stop... but nothing had helped and now he was not only coming home, but he was coming home with a wrecking hangover.

Darius crewed his eyes shut as he pushed the key into the lock and opened the door. There it was. The apartment. Cold and miserable and... wait. Had Mathafew's jacket been moved?

Furrowing his brow, the dark-haired man stepped inside and moved to pick up the favored jacket when he saw something that made his heart stop. There, on the couch under the jacket was the same messy, short hair, same mud-caked boots on the couch arm... Darius chest clenched as he looked down at his living brother. He swallowed fighting for his voice as he gazed down at the young man.

"M-Mathafew?"

[mantleoflight]

//Hhhhh Ok so just finished some Destiny stuffs and Ohhh man

//Hearing Xivu Arath in this latest mission really hit Darius hard. Her Telling him that the strife of battle is where he belongs, that this strife is home?

//It hits so many chords with him because she isn’t wrong! He’s spent so long nursing his anger, honing his hurt, living in the strife of his own revenge that it does feel like home.

//Honing his blade and skills with Fastion. Studying all he can even to the point of letting himself be guided by the hive wizard Ir Al'harath. All so he can have his chance to get at Xivu Arath--

//And it tears him up

//It tears him up that on a deep, emotional level, he can't let go, not without losing that part of himself that came to be when he went on his crusade.

//He knows that's what he has to do - he has to let go. But he just. Can't. He can't let go.

[worldsandmuses]

//Ok guys picture this

//It’s night time on Mars, stars are out and the weird endless glow of the paracausal tears in time and space fills the night. Ikora’s watching them, not really paying attention, until a shadow passes over the camp and this huge something glides down like a starry ripple in shape of a bird or manta ray. It lands silently and stands upright, now looking like humanoid being wearing a translucent cloak of nebulous night stars. It then extends its wings again and one can almost see thin, long hands at the wrist joint as readings of paracausal energy spikes off the charts.

//All the guardians and Hidden are in a scramble as Ikora watches this being almost touch the veil of light dividing the past from the present, and push it back. The perimeter of the tear shrinks and the being takes a step. Whatever it’s doing, it seems to be working as the tear between the past and present shrinks with each passing moment. Who it is or what it is must be known so Ikora sends her guardians to see what’s going on.

//And naturally, when a Guardian like Young Wolf finds something they don’t know, they shoot first and ask questions later.

//Unfortunately, doing so only seemed to draw the beings attention from its task. It attempts to wave the guardians off, even summoning shadow versions of its attackers to fend them off. Alas, Young Wolf is not to be out done—even by themselves, and the great being is interrupted again.

//With almost a frustrated huff, the being turns from its work, gathers what looks like a sphere of Light energy and allows it to explode, passing harmlessly through everything, living and non. Or that is what was determined after everyone woke up feeling like they’d gotten the best sleep of their lives but finding no other trace of the mysterious being outside of the greatly shrunk time rip left on Mars.

[danidoesathing]

J.K. Simmons playing J. Jonah Jameson in every timeline has to be one of the funniest running gags ive seen in a movie. anyone can be Spiderman but there can only be one J. Jonah Jameson

[cariboufood]

Hawaiian roller coaster ride bro!!!!!!!!! Possible future sticker design

[gayelderstourney]

OLD WOMAN YURI BRACKET ROUND 2

Propaganda:

May Parker/Olivia Octavius:

THE old woman yuri crackship when this gd movie came out just because of Olivia saying "my friends call me Liv" and May calling her Liv when she breaks into her house. remember your herstory

remember when this was a thing

Raven Darkholme/Irene Adler:

when they met one was pretending to be Sherlock Holmes. one of them is disabled (blind). they raised a teenager together and tried to turn her evil. one was fully ready to destroy a country to get the other back.

Ok so I’m not sure if this falls under the looks elderly for raven since she can look however she wants and Irene looks younger since she’s been resurrected but they are old woman yuri to me since these old evil women are so in love it hurts and they raised a daughter together and even more but I have to go to bed now

evil immortal mutant lesbians. what's not to love.

[thepathetickind]

sometimes nostalgia keeps us from seeing our destiny, because we can't leave the past behind us, believing that it’s all we ever wanted and needed in our life

by laurenmaerie, gone

[incorrectlegoes]

Corrin: Hey dad can I see you for Father’s Day?

Arthur: Which one of my kids is this?

Corrin: Corrin

Arthur: No

[pawnshopsouls]

//thinking of Bonely’s Bistro in the Last City and genuinely wondering how the citizens would react to a guy basically trying to bring back 1930’s swing and jazz while also guardian-proofing his place so he can give actual pre-traveler dance lessons to guardians and citizens.

[mando-of-esverr]

A clouded mist-formed shape appeared behind the massive Hive Knight. It was barely there, and pieces of it appeared to be missing like it was itself formed out of chunks that had been removed from something else.

A ghost made out of a being that was dying a little at a time.

It was a man, that much was at least able to be discerned. He didn't speak, but managed to be accusing just by his presence.

Darius’ hand glided smoothly over his broad sword, the whetstone hissing as it went. It was calming for him, routine, something he still had after his “rebirth”. But as he honed his blade, the knight felt something… unsettling behind him and turned to investigate.

There before him was a human-shaped cloud of mist. Ahamkara? Stray ether perhaps? If the latter, he’d have to be careful. He might not like his state of life at the moment, but breathing in toxic gas was something he wasn’t willing to chance.

“Well,” he said addressing the cloudy visage. “What are you? Ghost, Ahamkara, or underfed nightmare?”

[mantleoflight]

"You can't lie to my face like that." ~ Fastion

Darius looked aghast. "Me? What? Lie?" he held his hands out, his golden hues trying to look as innocent as they could before the raven-haired man changed tactics.

He looked up at the ship he had eying, his hand resting on the side of its nose. If he tried to jump into the cockpit now, Fastion would have him in a vice grip before he could blink. The Black Shield was no joke and he doubted Branson would be willing to talk Fastion down from folding him in half and sitting on him until he talked.

Better play it safe.

"Alright, alright, yeah I can't lie to you. But let's be honest, that doesn't mean I have to tell you everything either. But before you ask, no it's not about Xivu Arath. Well, maybe a bit but I'm really just taking this for a fly around to get my head clear. It's bad enough I get Mathafew in my head when I have... dreams about her and what happened. I just need some sky time to breathe, okay?"

He hoped that would explain it, his need to get away, to distance himself from what he was afraid to grasp. Fear was driving him nuts... and he knew Xivu was feeding on it, ready to pounce and prey on him through it.

[knightscendant]

—-Our future—-

[dreamidoodles]

ya know what i like you (gives y’all a summer blouse and pony tail) twit. 06.25.21.

[tiabritana]

For @softest-punk who’s hobhusband verse I read for the thousandth time today and got inspired. Here’s Hob meeting one of his in-laws

————————————————————————

It was one of the rare times that Death was able to get away from her busy schedule for more than a few moments, and Hob was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

They were currently the only two in the flat and were spending time together at the kitchen table drinking some local ale that Moira gifted him over the holidays when a thought popped into Hobs mind. He never really gave it much thought before-assuming that as with most things in the beginning- his gift was from Dream, and that was that. With the arrangement now, and knowing that prior assessment to be false, Hob turned to Death and pondered how to ask his question.

“Yes?” Death asked, seeing his stare.

“I was just wondering how I stayed the same age after all these years.” He started setting his mug down and playing with his fingers. “I just never really thought about it before, but your gift prevents me from dying, so how do I still look young.”

Death was silent for a bit, playing with her own mug, swirling the liquid around as she pondered his question.

“I never really thought of it much,” she finally admitted. “When I first made the wager with Dream, I just wanted him to see the beauty of humans. You all are-especially you-,” she paused and gave him a warm look, reaching between them to gently grab his hand from where he was still fiddling with them, “so full of life. I just wanted him to understand.” She stopped and shrugged, and Hob understood what she didn’t say. By now they all knew that Dream was in a bad place for a long time and was just starting to see that there was more to life than just his function.

“Anyway, if I had to guess I assume that Father had something to do with your preserved form.” She took back her hand to instead cup her mug and bring it to her mouth to take a long gulp.

Hob stared at the column of her neck admiring as he thought about what she said. He never gave much thought to the Endless parents as none of his spouses liked to talk about them. The closest being Delirium’s nonsensical musings about there being a black hole inside her sometimes, and the twins sharing a look.

“Why would he grant my body stasis- for lack of a better word?” He asked. His musings were starting to give him a headache the more he tried to wrap his head around the subject.

Death shrugged again, putting her now empty mug down. Hob pushed his half drunk glass towards her. He didn’t think drinking anymore would help with his burgeoning headache.

Just as she was finishing his mug, Death turnt her head and gazed off into distance with her ear cocked, listening to something Hob couldn’t hear.

“I got to go,” she said as she stood up. Hob got up and leaned towards her to press a chaste kiss to her cheek.

“I’ll see you later love.” And watched as her great wings took her off to her next appointment.

“She’s right you know.” Hob quickly whipped around at the sound of an unfamiliar voice in his now not so empty flat. Standing behind him was a young man with bright red hair-looking just like Destruction. Hob wet his lips, suddenly wishing he didn’t give Death his drink as the man changed forms into a wizen old man. He instinctively knew who was standing before him even though this was his first time meeting the being; and wondered if this had anything to do with the flat being on the border of the the Endless siblings realms.

The being-Time-circled around Hob, making him feel like a sculpture on display. He swallowed down his sudden feeling of inadequacy and smiled what he hoped was a welcoming grin. “Hel-,” he was cut off before he could finish the greeting.

“I suppose congratulations are in order.” His tone not giving anything away as he continued his perusal. Hob fought the urge to wipe his sudden sweat coated palms on his trousers, and instead met his father-in-laws eyes as he finally circled back to the front.

“I don’t like company, even from my own children, but I do keep an eye on them from time to time.” At the last part his lips twitch up, reminding Hob of Destiny when he managed to make him smile. His form shifted again, turning him into a small red headed child, though the intense look in his eyes didn’t change.

“I watched that day Death and Dream made that wager, and knew how important you’d be.” He stopped and stepped closer to Hob, his form shifting again to a baby, small tufts of red hair and a cherub face. Hob looked down and wondered how this didn’t even make it into his top ten list of weird things to happen to him in the last decade alone. “Imagine my surprise when the least likely timeline overwrote what the Fates had in store for Dream and changed Destiny’s Book.”

Hob swallowed, “uh-,” and once again was cut off from whatever he was about to say.

“Thank you.” The words were softly spoken as Time shifted again, his form now a middle again man with white streaking into his red hair and beard. He finally tore his eyes from Hob, who let out an inaudible sigh as the pressure he didn’t know was slowly suffocating the room disappeared.

When he looked back up, a shadow flashed over the man’s face making him look every eon he was. Hob blinked and the being was gone. As silence slowly descended he heard the knob on the door turning and Destruction emerged from the rain, red hair dripping and boots creating puddles in the entry way. He had shop bags in his great arms as he slowly looked a Hob’s gobsmacked face after shutting the door.

“You okay love?” He asked. He walked around Hob to deposit the bags onto the counter, but stopped and turned to face him again when he received no response. Setting the last bag down Destruction walked over to Hob and took his hands into his own larger ones.

That finally seemed to shock Hob out of his catatonic state. “I think your father approves of me.”

Destruction just stared at him as Hob let go of his hands and wandered the few paces to the kitchen counter to peak into the bags the redhead had left there. “What’s for dinner?” He asked unaware of the stunned expression his blasé response brought.

Needless to say, dinner was late after Destruction called his siblings and they all ended up talking over one another, save Destiny who sat on the couch with a small smile on his face as he read from his Book-Hob sitting beside him as he let his soothing presence help his now migraine- and handed him an aspirin and a glass of water.