#doomed lightning shard

[abyssalmermaiden]

Febhyurary 5 - Color

Purple eyes...an omen. For good or ill depends on who you ask. Either way, Anne would rather avoid drawing such attention.

featuring Ivo (@yloiseconeillants) - an Investor in the club where she works.

(taking lots of inspiration from The Anthropophagist's Club by Abney Park so please accept that in place of a more detailed lore write up at this time)

[doomedlightningshard]

start by admitting from cradle to tomb isn't that long a stay

[hermits-hovel]

I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell. How, then, am I mad? Hearken! and observe how healthily - how calmly I can tell you the whole story.

[whatsthisascianbullshit]

What if there was an apprentice witch who wanted to help and study but then due to The Circumstances she set out on a mission to destroy a tower with violence and murder in her heart?

[tallbluelady]

New Blorbo Alert!

Lucky Apple, alchemist of some renown on the Twelfth Shard of Etheirys. As powerful lightning storms rend the very land asunder, Apple spends her days wandering and trying to purify what little fresh water is left, all with a cheery attitude and a smile on her face. With the uncanny ability to see the souls of the departed, she is recruited by a Mr. Selch from the city of Eutopia to investigate means of transporting souls from one locale to another. Unaware of the consequences of such a thing, she gladly helps him with his task, and even helps others in the city with their experiments and discoveries. After it is revealed that Mr. Selch is actively seeking the destruction of her world, Apple feels so betrayed that she leaves Eutopia to focus on what good she can do elsewhere.

Though she has made peace with the fact that her world is ending, Apple still seeks to ease the pain of others for as long as she can draw breath. After all, why would she waste her time feeling sorry for herself when she can smile instead?

[autistictaylorhebert]

Tuco Salamanca: Thinker 5, vague precog/dangersense for big problems and conspiracies against him and his family, but blind against the immediate, improvised attacks (season 2 episode 2 "Grilled" 19m 10s). Trigger likely involved a feeling of inevitable doom that was tragically fulfilled despite his efforts to stop it.

Walter White/Heisenberg: after decades of trying to solve a problem with a tangential chemistry flavour, capped with getting a cancer that requires chemotherapy, Walter does get the chemical-based Tinker 6 power that he dreamed of. However, as the actual problem he was trying to solve was a contradiction between cultural individualism/toxically masculine self sufficiency vs being repeatedly put in positions of pity and community reliance, his power forces him to rely on others in order to get results. In order to enter a tinker fugue state he's forced to surrender to the help of another pair of hands- hands that seemingly always end up clumsier and stupider than he'd like. This reliance on another collaborator and the intensified frustrations with both himself and his lab partner after every tinkering session has lead some to argue he should have a 0 or -1 master rating.

Saul Goodman/Jimmy McGill: Lightning Blaster 4-7 as previously established by other researchers. Very possibly a cauldron cape as he has little enough shard influence to avoid using his powers completely.

[littleglutton]

per aspera ad astra

— "through suffering to the stars"

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Astra, a young god, who saw you for a fleeting moment and instantly fell harder and faster than any other.

You were the first mortal he ever met.

Astra, a devoted god, who loved you deeply enough to give you his own heart so that you could stay by his side when he learned your mortal heart wasn't strong enough.

Astra, a broken god, who lost you too soon because even the gods could not stop the threads of fate from weaving their tragic web.

Astra, a mourning god, who broke the rules of foresight to find you again and watched in despair as you fell in love with another and not him.

Never again would it be him.

Astra, a desperate god, who sought to keep you, even if it meant keeping your sorrow and your disdain. Even as he witnessed his own fate of a love unfulfilled. Unrequited.

He would take your hatred over your absence.

Astra, a jealous god, who would mark each lover who would ever cross your path with tragedy and pain.

Astra, a bitter god, who gave an onerous gift to one who would love you in many lives, making sure that love would never bloom.

Astra, a petty god, who encouraged a young sea god to chase after a love that would doom his very people. 

Astra, a malevolent god, who answered the prayers of a desperate prince with a double-edged sword, offering him the path of his people's salvation, only to trap him in a gilded cage.

Astra, a spiteful god, who delivered the last dragon the catalyst of both his freedom and demise.

If he could never have you, no one else would.

Astra, a vengeful god, who tore the heavens apart to keep finding you through every rebirth and timeline, not truly understanding the chaos he brought to humanity's doorstep.

The deepspace tunnel was never an accident.

Astra, a fallen god, who was stripped of grace and reborn into a prison of human flesh; made to atone for everything he had wrought upon you and those who dared love you.

Astra, no longer a god, who had no memories of his past divinity, only an ache of rage and agony that manifest in the form of a relentless and destructive energy coursing through his entire being until he is bursting with it.

Astra, no longer a god, whose torment becomes the power of storms. Energy builds beneath his skin until even the air is charged with a metallic tang. With a surge, that energy becomes tangible, and lightning visibly cracks across his hands and fingers. The evol fills his eyes with a silvery, otherworldly glow.

Your very fear had become his strength. 

Astra, no longer a god, rails against his fate with every breath and fiber of his being, not knowing why it feels as if the weight of eons is crushing him into oblivion. All he knows is that for as long as he can remember, it felt as if he were born with a broken heart, with the jagged shards that were left digging themselves into his very soul.

He wishes he could rip them out, one by one.

Astra, no longer a god, who has yet to meet you in this life but has already begun the machinations of your destruction. He doesn't know you, doesn't understand why he does what he does, only that he must stop the eternal ache of the void in his chest from swallowing him whole. Whatever it takes to stop the pain, whatever he needs to do to fill the empty hollow, he vows to find it.

Time passes.

The search becomes an all-consuming obsession. One he builds his life around.

Always. 

Ever.

Astra, no longer a god, hears about a strange girl. Her heart is an anomaly, but it's strong. She survived the experiments. There's something there; an unseen power lying dormant in her heart.

If I take her heart, maybe I could survive too.

Astra, no longer a god, plays a pretend god.

He casts his web of chaos and destruction with your coveted heart at its center. Without ever meeting you, your life is slowly and meticulously picked apart by his hands. Tragedy befalls you again and again, close to breaking you.

Astra, the pretend god, shatters your family with a single, unfeeling order.

Bloomshore was never an accident.

This is enough to break you.

He plucks the one closest to you from the edge of death and offers him the chance to stand by your side again in exchange for control. 

He doesn't need to say it's control over you that he's after.

He learns your motives. Memorizes your tells. You move exactly where he wants you to be as if he positioned you into place himself like his very own doll. He can almost taste the victory of it filling the gaping maw where his heart should be.

He's so close now. The endgame is in sight. 

Everything is set.

Everything.

Ever…

“Will you love me forever?”

The words are whispered against his chest, softly, sweetly… but your voice is weak, fading. He can feel your life waning, slipping through his fingers like sand in the wind. He clings to you tightly, arms trying desperately to secure what could never be held. 

“Forever and ever and ever. For eternity. Until time itself turns my bones to dust and gives my very soul back to the stars, I will love you.”

Astra meets your eyes for the very first time in this life and remembers everything.

And so it seems, do you.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

[skyward-floored]

I finished that encanto scene I was talking about like a week ago, lu-ified as promised 👍 (though there’s only two lu boys in this particular one lol).

This is the bit where Mirabel goes back and finds Bruno in the walls, for context. Wind is Mirabel and Legend is Bruno, though he’s Wind’s cousin, not uncle. he’s like in his twenties. Or so. Ish. I’m still working on that, but anyway, I’ll stop rambling now lol, please enjoy.

————————————————————

Normally Wind didn’t make a habit of following rats around, but today was a bit of an exception.

The pieces of the vision that had caused him so much trouble disappeared around a corner, held in the mouths of several rats, and Wind followed after them, wondering why they’d even taken them. What did rats want with a bunch of glowing vision shards?

Thunder rumbled outside, and Wind swallowed, moving a little faster when he heard a distant call of his name. He wasn’t intent on hanging around while his entire family was mad at him, and he did his best to put the angry and confused words of them from his mind as he went.

He’s gonna destroy the magic and we’re all doomed!

Wind bit his lip and kept going, looking around for where the rats had gone. He’d make it up to them. He’d fix this, save the magic, stop the cracks, and figure out what was going on.

For a few worried seconds Wind thought he’d lost the rats, but then he saw a skinny tail slip behind one of the large paintings hanging on the wall. He furrowed his brow, and stepped closer, tilting his head as he studied the painting. It looked normal, but...

He slowly reached a hand out, hesitating, then touched the frame, sucking in a breath as the painting moved. It creaked forward on some kind of hinge, and Wind pushed it open, staring into the dark passageway it revealed, briefly lit by a distant flash of lighting.

Well. That’s something.

He swallowed, and slowly climbed his way in, the painting slipping closed behind him and leaving him in near-total darkness. Faint ambient light came from somewhere, and Wind’s eyes adjusted just in time for him to see a crack spiderweb its way up the wall, stretching high out of view.

Worry squeezed at Wind, just like it had ever since Aryll’s ceremony, and he set a hand on the wall, looking at it sadly. He would fix this.

Something brushed by his ankle and Wind yelped, jumping backwards as a rat ran between his legs. It held a glowing shard in its mouth, and Wind watched it run further down the passageway and then stop at a shadow, one that reached down and picked up the rat.

Wind’s heart pounded, and as the figure straightened and turned his way, a flash of lightning lit up his face, darting across a grim expression and catching on blue-violet eyes.

Wind gasped.

Cousin Legend?!

The lightning flashed again, but between that strike and the first, Legend had disappeared.

“W— hey!” Wind called, and bolted down the path, chasing after the dark figure that was Legend. “Wait!”

Legend didn’t slow in the slightest, jumping nimbly over small obstacles, twisting around corners. Wind raced after him, cracks in the walls following along beside them, and panted as he navigated the space. Legend moved so swiftly he was almost impossible to keep up with, but Wind kept running, intent on answers.

Legend had disappeared when Wind was almost too small to remember, his older cousin simply... gone. Hyrule had been devastated, but apart from him, Legend was a topic not allowed to be discussed, a name that was shushed, a story kept quiet. The things Wind had heard about him were almost more ghost stories than anything, Wild shapeshifting into a terrifying figure to demonstrate, tales of prophecies and visions that brought more woe than peace of mind.

Wind had to talk to him.

Wind crashed around a corner, hearing a distant yelp on the other side and mentally apologizing as he kept running, pumping his arms to keep up with Legend. Legend went along a small staircase, but Wind kept pace, running underneath and sliding out the bottom step, still sprinting.

They were in a straight section now, and Wind began to close in, his breath fast. He grew closer and closer to his cousin, so close that he could almost reach out and grab him—

Legend put on a sudden burst of speed, avoiding Wind’s fingers, and hopped neatly off a board and the side of a wall to land safely on the other side of a deep pit that abruptly yawned below Wind’s feet.

Wind screeched to a stop, windmilling his arms so as not to fall in, and stared below, the bottom of the pit obscured by dust and darkness. He gulped, looking ahead at where Legend was getting away, then backtracked a little, gulping in a deep breath.

Make your family proud.

Then he sprinted at the pit, pushing off from the edge and hopping like a grasshopper on the same boards as Legend had. He landed triumphantly on the other side, grinning, and then the board he’d landed on broke under his feet.

Wind shouted and flung his arms out, managing to snag a bamboo pole that stuck out from the side. He clung tightly to it, and yelped as it began to splinter, sending him lower.

“Help,” he gasped, trying to pull himself up, but only succeeding in losing his grip with one of his hands. “Help!”

Wind looked around frantically, clinging with all his might to the small pole, but he could feel his grip slipping, and there wasn’t anything else for him to grab within reach.

“Casita!” Wind gasped, holding desperately to the pole, but nothing moved, no supports shifting to help, not so much as a whisper of assistance. “Help me, help—!”

Wind’s grip slipped, and he cried out as he plunged down into the darkness.

Then a hand snagged his, and he gasped, looking up into the bright eyes of his cousin Legend.

Wind scrambled to hold on, and Legend grunted as he held onto him, bracing himself against the floor. They stared at each other for a few seconds, and Wind’s heart pounded in his ears.

“You’re very sweaty,” Legend said with another grunt, trying to pull Wind up.

Wind did his best to help him, but then the board under Legend’s knees snapped, and he went flying over Wind’s head with a yelp.

Wind frantically reached out as they both fell, and his hand snagged a root that protruded from the wall, holding on to it with all his might. Suddenly he was the one stopping Legend from falling, his cousin clutching at his hand, and Wind stared down at him, arm shaking from the weight of an entire person hanging from it.

Before either of them could really properly process the situation, a rat suddenly appeared on Legend’s shoulder, startling Wind and making him lose his grip. He gasped, and Legend went plunging into the pit with a cry.

“Oh no!” Wind shouted in horror.

...Then Legend’s head poked up from the pit, expression befuddled.

He looked around him in confusion, then waved away some of the dust in the air, revealing that the bottom of the pit was only a few feet deep, and not bottomless like it had appeared. Wind and Legend both stared for a moment at this development, and Legend blinked.

“Huh. That would’ve been nice to know,” he muttered.

He shrugged to himself, and Wind shook himself out of his stupor, clambering out of the pit and giving Legend a hand up as well. Legend took it, and Wind stared at him once they’d made it, taking in the sight of the older cousin he barely remembered, messy blond hair with a dash of pink, amethyst-colored eyes that had an unusual light to them. Legend’s eyes happened to meet his, and they stared at each other for a beat.

“Well, bye,” Legend said abruptly, and Wind blinked, then spluttered in confusion as Legend swept away.

“What? No, hey wait!” Wind said, hurrying to catch up to the reddish poncho that was disappearing around the corner ahead. Wind scrambled around it, then bonked his head on a wooden pole that stuck out, exclaiming at the sudden pain.

The noise made Legend slow at least, and Wind quickly shook off the painful throb, rubbing his head as he kept pace with his quick trot. He had a lot of questions, but there was one that seemed the most important at the moment.

“Wait, hey, why did you take the vision?” Wind asked as Legend muttered to himself, rapping his knuckles on the wood. “You know what it means, right? What does it mean?”

Legend didn’t reply, still moving with quick strides, and Wind watched him hold his breath as he stepped around a spot where there were several broken poles, then exhale as he got past it.

“Is it why you came back? To get it? Orrr...” Wind trailed off uncertainly, and when Legend seemed to ignore him, hesitated. “...Primo?”

Legend finally paused, and sighed, quickly knocking his knuckles on the wood again before speaking.

“You were never supposed to see that vision. No one was,” he murmured, then tossed a pinch of something behind his shoulder which landed right in Wind’s face as he opened his mouth to speak. “Bit of salt...”

Wind spat out what had gotten in his mouth, and just opened it to speak when Legend did the same thing again.

“Sugar.”

“Pleh! Legend!”

He kept moving forward again, and once Wind was done spluttering, he followed after. Legend stepped through the walls with a surety Wind was impressed by, avoiding holes he couldn’t see and other obstacles with ease. Though he did keep muttering to himself, especially as he stepped over some lines on the floor. Wind glanced at them, then followed them up onto the walls, blinking in surprise at the patches of white smoothed across the marks.

“Wait, these... have you been in here patching the cracks?” Wind said in surprise, looking closer at the wall and the ladder and tools beside it.

Legend glanced at them as well, then shook his head with a shrug. “That? Nah, they creep me out. Patching’s done by Ballad.”

Wind squinted at him. “Who’s Ballad—?”

Legend abruptly tossed his hood up and deepened his voice, straightening his posture. “I am Ballad, and I am scared of nothing.”

Wind blinked, and Legend flipped his hood back down with another shrug.

“It’s actually me. You know Hy— I used to say my real gift was acting,” he said with a small heh, looking at the wall with a look Wind wasn’t sure how to read.

Wind looked at him, glanced back at the patched cracks, then looked back again, only to find Legend now sporting a bucket on his head.

“I’m Myth. I make the spackle,” he said with an accent he hadn’t had before.

Wind stared at him again, and an awkward beat of silence passed.

“How long... have you been... back here?” he asked awkwardly.

Legend removed the bucket, and sighed.

(...)

Legend didn’t say anything as he led Wind to a door, going through it and inviting him in with a small jerk of his head. Wind followed, curious, and stared around the little room he found himself in.

A small light lit the space in a soft glow, shining off of a phonograph and a line with clothes strung on it to dry. An eclectic mix of furniture was in the room, a small side table, an arm chair, a barrel with a few odds and ends stacked on top.

There were a few small shelves on the walls, holding even more random items, several Wind didn’t even recognize, little tools and knickknacks, all sorts of junk. That didn’t even mention the rats literally everywhere, and Wind as looked around the tiny room, something weird clenched in his chest.

“You never left,” he realized.

“Well, I left my tower,” Legend corrected as he swept inside, shooing some rats off a shelf, “which was just a lot of stairs, and puzzles and all... besides, here I’m kitchen adjacent,” he said with a click of his tongue, holding up an arepa. “Nowhere I could go would have as good food as your mom’s.”

Wind kept looking around in disbelief, unable to believe Legend had really been here the whole time, and Legend seemed suddenly awkward as he set aside the food.

“Ah, plus you know, it’s cold out there, warm in here, the rats keep me company, I—”

“What’s that?” Wind asked as he looked at what seemed to be a tiny stage, and Legend coughed, his ears turning pink.

“Well uh, you know, entertainment, gotta get it somehow,” he said, and stood up a few small pictures with holes cut in them, some rats poking their heads through. “It’s free and you get what you pay for, but— you have a preference?” He started flipping through different pictures. “Sports? Gameshow? Telenovelas?”

Legend waved a hand at the picture he’d set up, and sank back in his chair.

“Their love could never be,” he said dramatically.

Wind stared at the stage and the rats, then looked at his cousin again. “I don’t understand.”

Legend gestured to the tiny picture he’d put up again. “Well, you see it’s because she’s actually from another dimension, it’s a dream but he doesn’t know yet, it’s like a very forbidden kind of…”

“I don’t understand why you left, but didn’t leave,” Wind clarified, and Legend’s voice trailed off. He looked at the wall, and Wind saw his hands fidget.

For a moment, the only sound was the skittering of little rat feet.

“Well, you know the mountains around the encanto are pretty tall. Hard to get through. Tried once, changed my mind. And, like I said, free food and everything,” Legend said, idly petting a rat. His tone turned a little exasperated. “You guys love the free food, don’t you? Always hungry. Never satisfied.”

Wind watched him mutter to the rats, and glanced around again, still feeling confused. Where was the frightening figure from the stories he’d heard? The cousin who wrecked everything on purpose, who’s visions only made everything worse?

Who’d seen Wind with cracks around him, the cause of the fading magic?

Wind poked around the room a little, then glanced towards a wall where he could make out a thin crack, one with a tiny beam of light glinting through it. Stepping closer, Wind peered through, and realized that the room on the other side was the dining room, table set in preparation for breakfast, a place for everyone neatly laid out.

He pulled back, and looked at the small table on this side of the wall, a thin beam of light illuminating it. Wind tilted his head as he looked at it, then saw the plate drawn on the wood with Legend’s name on it.

Oh.

Oh Legend.

Wind brushed a hand over it, and he heard Legend shift behind him.

“My uh, Gift wasn’t helping the family,” Legend said quietly, catching Wind’s attention, and he turned to look at his cousin. Legend swallowed. “...But, uh, I... I love my family. I just don’t know how… I don’t know how to…”

Legend bit his lip and turned away.

“You should go. Because... I don’t really have a good reason, but, if I did, you’d be like, “I should go, because that’s a good reason,”” he said with a forced chuckle, sinking back into his chair. When Wind didn’t move, he gave him a look that was an odd mix of annoyed and pleading. “...Please leave.”

Wind slowly stepped over to him, making no move to leave, and Legend looked away again with a frown. Wind knelt down, a hand resting on the arm of the chair, and saw Legend’s ear twitch.

“Why was I in your vision?” he asked softly. When Legend didn’t react, he leaned closer. “...Legend?”

Legend stayed silent, and Wind swallowed.

“I just wanted to make the family proud of me,” Wind said in a small voice. “Just... once.”

He bit his lip.

“But if I should stop... if I’m hurting my family... just tell me,” he quietly begged.

“I can’t tell you,” Legend murmured in reply, and Wind breathed out, disappointment settling over him. “...because I don’t know.”

Wind made a confused face, and Legend looked at his hands, then slowly took the pieces of his vision out of his pockets.

“I... had this vision the night that you didn’t get your Gift,” he began to explain, voice quiet as he worked on fitting the pieces together, movements careful. “Abuela was worried about the magic. So, she begged me to look into the future and see what it meant. I didn’t want to— sometimes the future doesn’t need to be seen, but... I did.”

He sighed, the sound shaking a little.

“And I saw the magic in danger. Our house breaking, cracks everywhere. And then... then I saw you,” he said softly, looking at Wind. “Right in the middle of it all. But the vision was different. It… it would change,” he stressed, fitting in the last piece and completing the terrible image. He angled it a little, and Wind watched in surprise as the cracks faded, then reformed on casita behind him. “And there was no one answer. No clear fate. Like your future was undecided.”

Legend scoffed, voice turning bitter.

“But I knew how it was going to look. I knew what everyone would think because I’m Legend and everyone always assumes the worst of everything I do, and you were so small and I knew it would just... it would just... yeah. So…” he trailed off, and cleared his throat. “So. Here we are.”

Wind felt something impossibly warm touch his heart as he picked up the tray with the fixed vision, and he looked at Legend, his throat suddenly tight.

“You left... to protect me?” Wind asked softly, and Legend looked away from him.

He didn’t say anything for a long moment.

“...I had to do something,” he finally murmured. “And I still don’t know which way it’ll go. But... my guess is the family, the encanto, and the fate of the miracle itself…”

He gave Wind an intense look.

“It’s all gonna come down to you.”

Wind stared back at his uncle, a cold shiver running down his back, the words falling heavy over his shoulders. Then Legend shrugged and snatched the vision back from him.

“Or maybe I’m wrong! You know, it’s a mystery. That’s why this vision is…” He blew a raspberry, and dropped the vision on the table, making the cracks threading through it more evident.

Wind looked at him, uncertain, and Legend ushered him towards the door. Wind reluctantly went, but hesitated as he stepped out, stopping Legend before he could close the door on him.

“Legend... is there nothing you can do?” he asked quietly, and Legend sighed, his hair falling in his face.

“Look, primito, if I could help any more, I would. But that’s all I know,” he murmured, and began to close the door. “Good luck. I wish I could’ve seen more.”

The door clicked shut, and Wind was left in the dark, with only a handful of answers, and a lot more questions.

“Yeah,” Wind sighed to himself, and stared at the darkened passageway behind the walls.

Legend hadn’t been anything like he’d expected. Instead of scary, or threatening, or intent on destruction just for the fun of it, he’d mostly seemed... sad. And lonely. And he’d helped Wind, all those years ago, left to protect him, and Wind... Wind wanted to help him back.

Fix more cracks.

How could he do that though?

Wind tapped a finger on his chin. His brain had latched onto what Legend had said as he’d left for some reason, and Wind thought about that for a moment, mulling through what he’d said.

That’s all I know. I wish I could’ve seen more.

I wish I could’ve seen more.

...seen more...

Wind’s eyes went wide. “Yeah..!”

Wind burst back through the door, making Legend yelp, and he bolted towards him.

“Legend! You wish you could have seen more, so see more! Have another vision!” he exclaimed excitedly, unable to keep from bouncing as he ran forward.

Legend looked alarmed, and backed up as Wind followed him around the small room, ducking behind his chair and trying to avoid him.

“Uh, no. No. See, I don’t do visions anymore,” Legend said firmly, snatching a broom from nearby and blocking Wind from getting closer with it.

“But you could,” Wind grinned around the broom.

“But I won’t.”

“Come on! Just a small one?”

Legend spluttered. “You can’t do small ones, it’s— No. It’s a lot of trouble with pretty much zero reward, and it just makes everyone mad.“

Wind huffed, and paused in his dogged pursuit. “Look, you can’t say “the weight of the world is on your shoulders, the end.” If our whole family’s fate is up to me, me says have another vision,” Wind stressed, going back to following Legend around. “Maybe it’ll show me what to do!”

Legend sent him a sour look. “Look, even if I wanted to, which I don’t, you wrecked my vision cave. Thanks for that, by the way. Anyway that’s a problem, because I need a big open space.”

“We’ll find one!” Wind assured cheerfully, and Legend scoffed.

“Where exactly? I’m not doing it in the courtyard!”

“Use my room!”

Wind and Legend froze at the third voice, and both slowly turned around to find Aryll smiling in the doorway, accompanied by several of her animals.

Wind blinked.

“Uh. Aryll? How..?”

“The rats told me everything,” Aryll said in a matter-of-fact voice, then she turned to her jaguar who was eyeing some of them. “Don’t eat those.”

She smiled brightly back up at Wind and Legend.

“So? Can I help?”

Wind blinked at her, then nodded his head fondly, unable to hold back a chuckle. Good ol’ Aryll.

He looked back at Legend while his little cousin talked more to the rats, and saw a look on his face, one that despite his snippiness just moments ago, seemed very sad all of a sudden.

“Legend,” he said gently, catching his attention. “Our family needs help. And you... you need to get outta here,” he said with a wrinkle of his nose at the sight of some rats playing with a toothbrush.

Legend followed his gaze, and sighed, looking tired.

Then he gave Wind a nod.

[circeyoru]

Angelic Doctor _ Part 2

[Human!Alastor x Disguised Angel!Reader]

Part 1

Part 2 (here)

You tried. You really tried. You ignored that blood-red colour his soul had and tried to change him, maybe even turn it into a lighter shard so he could be redeemed or saved in some other way. But there was a reason why that blood-red colour was such a dread to Angels like you, it was dreaded for the known reason that that mortal was an evil person. One that was barely forced to do evil, unlike those with criminal parents or cultists led down a wrong path. No, no, no. These people were the ones who picked their fate and enjoyed it

You had thought Alastor’s kindness and caring persona shown to you would help you persuade him to turn over a new leaf, but he merely favoured you and that was that. No benefits for you to take advantage of that would change the dark person he was

Alastor noticed your advances. Was it to get him into Heaven? Dear, you are so pure and adorable! Words can’t describe it! He was doomed to Hell the moment his shock turned to excitement at his first kill which was his father! Instead of getting him to Heaven, he wants to bring you down to Hell with him

He thought that spending the remainder of his time on Earth with you was enough, but it wasn’t. The more he spent his time with you, the more he wanted to keep you to himself. A darling just for him and his interest only

He started small, asking you out on days off or break time, taking you to visit local cafes he thinks are good or needs a companion to go for those pair offer deals. Then it started to grow, he’d take you to work, walk you back home as he insisted that the streets were dangerous since the cops had yet to catch that deadly killer, even wait for your breaks to come so that he could have a meal with you. He knows you’re a busy person, being a doctor that everyone relied upon and trusted and all that goodness

Originally, he thought your goodness and kindness were a facade to draw people in or a way to earn people’s gratitude towards you. Yet in his time with her, you remained constant, sure there were moments where you let out some steam and vent, but otherwise you were the perfect opposite of him. This just solidifies his fear that the two of you will be apart after one of you dies, forever

In a desperate attempt, he tried binding your soul to his so that even when you die first and go to Heaven, the moment he dies and is dragged down to Hell, you’ll join him. Vice versa

That when he found out you’re not even human. You were a literal Angel

You were made aware of Alastor’s attempt since your angelic powers activated themselves in the middle of the night while you were peacefully asleep. Your wings were summoned and your hair turned white as your halo appeared over your head. At the foot of your bed, you found Alastor with a spellbook of some kind. Around your bed was the setting of some ritual

Betrayed by your kindness, you rushed out of Alastor’s manor that he offered to you during the Great Depression that brought so much suffering. In a twisted turn of event, your time was up and your opportunity came in the form of a lightning shock. Thus, your return to Heaven after your journey on Earth in the city of New Orleans

Alastor barely had the time to compute the failed soul binding, then there was your angelic self, but the most devastating realization was your death. Of course, he knew you weren’t dead, but you’re as good as dead because he would never see you again. You’d be above and he’d be below. He’d never be able to contact you. Never

In a fit of uncontrollable rage and despair, he went on a murder spree. His clean-up getting more and more sloppy until he was cornered and killed by the pack animals that were called the loyal friends of humans

Note: A bit short, but that's all I got. I've seen a lot of Angel!Reader oneshots or headcanons or imagines and had to do one myself. It was fun but a bit short compared to my other ones ╚(″⚈ᴗ⚈)╗

P.S. I have no idea where you guys come from! Thanks for the support!! ( ´•ᗨ•`)っ ♡

Circe Y.

MASTERLIST

[yloiseconeillants]

FEBHYURARY 2025 :: Day 8 ~ Crystal

The wall are white and in the night The room is lit by electric light I stand alone and watch the clock I only wait for it to stop

[abyssalmermaiden]

Restored Calypso! finally got around to updating her dress (thanks textools)

location thanks to the alt I've left trapped in the halloween dimension for months

[doomedlightningshard]

Let us return for a moment to Lady Lovelace's objection, which stated that the machine can only do what we tell it to do. One could say that a man can 'inject' an idea into the machine, and that it will respond to a certain extent and then drop into quiescence, like a piano string struck by a hammer.

Turing, Alan M. (1950). "Computing machinery and intelligence." Mind 59 (October): 433-60. (Moren belongs to @azure-dragonsinger)

[hermits-hovel]

between life and death.

[shiorihyugawrites]

The Devil's Bride

Aurora Jaeger, Eren's long-lost childhood friend, was taken from him when they were children. After years of suffering under Marleyan control, Aurora is reunited with Eren while he’s undercover in Marley, igniting a bond neither of them expected. Despite her gentle nature, Aurora breaks her vow of pacifism to save Eren’s life, solidifying their deep connection. Secretly married before the Raid on Liberio, Aurora is swept into Eren's world of chaos and destruction. As the Scouts learn of her existence, tensions rise on the airship home. Mikasa’s heart shatters, and Levi demands answers. And Eren will stop at nothing to protect the only light left in his dark world—his bride, Aurora.

In this journey of love, loyalty, and war, Aurora must reconcile her innocent heart with the brutal reality of the man she loves, while Eren faces the truth of what he’s become. (Eren x OC)

Chapter Fifty Five

A/N: This chapter is a personal favourite. 

OST for this chapter is “Footsteps of Doom”

The instant Zeke’s eyes snapped open in the real world, everything erupted into motion again. Only a single second had passed in real time since Commander Magath’s shot rang out, the bullet slamming straight into Zeke’s nape. That shot would have killed him under any other circumstances, but Eren’s massive titan hand came barreling through the dust, swiping away the mindless titans that had begun crowding around, and caught Zeke’s limp body right before he hit the ground. The entire battlefield in Shiganshina seemed to pause in collective shock. A moment before, people were convinced that Zeke was as good as finished—Captain Levi had nearly severed his titan’s Achilles tendon, Magath’s bullet had found its mark, and the Beast Titan looked seconds from total annihilation. Yet here he was: alive, though barely, and inexplicably caught in Eren’s protective grip.

No one else but Eren and Zeke knew that in that single second, they had both found themselves in the barren desert of the Paths, with Aurora there too, forcing events to unravel in ways no one outside could possibly grasp. Now Eren towered in front of them, his expression set, his titan hand clutching Zeke’s limp human form as if unwilling to allow even an inch of separation. The interior of Zeke’s body was a disaster—blood poured from the gaping wound where the bullet entered, and shards of bone protruded from the ragged hole in his side. Before anyone could blink, a strange, glowing form, worm-like in shape, seemed to manifest at Eren’s feet. It squirmed through the debris, shimmering and pulsing with an alien light: the Hallucigenia, the very creature that first granted Ymir Fritz her power two thousand years ago.

Levi, suspended on a broken rooftop beam a few dozen yards away, skidded to a stop. He stared in utter disbelief as the strange creature latched onto Zeke’s barely conscious body, bridging him to Eren’s newly ignited power. A hush of confusion rippled through the nearby Jaegerists and Paradis forces—Jean, Connie, Sasha, Hange, Mikasa, Reiner, Porco, Pieck—none could understand what they were seeing. They had fought enough battles to know something about how titan shifters worked, but this was beyond anything they had witnessed: the moment the shimmering thing clamped onto Zeke, lightning bigger than any of them had ever seen struck down and Eren’s entire titan form changed with impossible speed.

The Attack Titan’s body elongated, bones clacking into place at a breathtaking rate. The once muscled torso now stretched into something more angular, with a monstrous vertebra protruding from its mid-back. The arms extended until they dwarfed the titans from the Walls, each finger sharp as a sword, each joint covered in hardened plating reminiscent of the War Hammer Titan’s constructs. His face, too, morphed: the pointed jaw lengthened, studded with a tangle of hardened ridges, and from the top of his head spilled an endless sweep of black hair, reaching well below his waist. His eyes glowed a deep, ethereal green. It was a vision straight from myth—a Titan so massive it rivaled or even exceeded the size of Armin’s Colossal Titan in height, but with limbs longer and more formidable than anything the world had seen.

No one on the battlefield could stay silent. Soldiers from the Allied Forces screamed in alarm. Shouts in multiple languages rose amid the heavy stench of gunpowder and burnt flesh. Paradis’s defenders were just as astounded. A hush of terror mingled with a wild surge of hope: Eren was unstoppable, or so it seemed, yet how could anyone, friend or foe, truly understand the power he now wielded?

Commander Magath, high above in a vantage point that had allowed his prior clear shot at Zeke, stared through the smoky haze in abject horror. He’d witnessed what seemed like the definitive kill shot, only to find Eren subverting reality itself. The body of the Beast Titan had been his prime target, but Magath never wanted Eren to get hold of Zeke. That was precisely the scenario he had been trying to avert for months, and now it was happening right before his eyes.

Eren’s new titan, impossibly tall, roared into the sky. The force of the roar shook the entire district. Rubble clattered down from half-collapsed rooftops. The newly formed skeleton plating that formed parts of Eren’s torso glowed with an inner light as though lit by an inferno. Above them, the Allied Forces’ airships attempted to circle into a better vantage point, only to reel away at the monstrous quake of Eren’s voice. And then Eren leaned forward, pressing his enormous palm to the outer perimeter of Shiganshina’s walls—walls that had stood for over a century.

It happened in an instant: the protective ring of stone around Shiganshina cracked. Lines slithered across the rock face, branching out like lightning. All at once, entire sections of the walls gave way, stone slabs the size of entire buildings crumbling off the edges. People on both sides screamed to retreat. Levi’s eyes widened, and he immediately bellowed, “Move! Everyone, move away from the walls!” The Jaegerists needed little urging. They’d been trained for swift evacuation in case of emergencies, but none had imagined a catastrophe of this magnitude. Hundreds of soldiers scrambled across rooftops, some managing to hook their ODM gear into stable structures, others diving behind rubble to avoid falling lumps of stone.

Jean and Connie helped Sasha, who had taken a bullet graze to her arm, leaping from building to building in a flurry of grappling lines. Mikasa soared above them, eyes locked onto Eren’s new titan shape as she used her skill to dodge debris. Hange’s voice rang out: “Down, now! Clear the impact zone!” Everyone who could, complied, hearts hammering. Now was not the time to hesitate. They needed to survive the cataclysmic shaking of the ground as the top layers of the walls peeled away.

And beneath those collapsing walls lay the unimaginable: row after row of massive, sweltering shapes that soon began to stir. With the stone no longer containing them, the colossal titans that formed Paradis’s last line of defense—those ancient guardians placed there after King Karl Fritz’s vow of peace—awoke. They pressed forth, row upon row, seemingly endless in number. Armin had estimated they might be in the millions, each at least the size of the Colossal Titan or close to it. Their flesh steamed in the open air, veins pulsing, eyes dull with single-minded purpose. The thunderous footsteps that followed echoed miles beyond Shiganshina. The entire earth trembled as if the island itself was caving in.

The Allied Forces roared in despair. Their first lines of tanks and artillery aimed all they had at the newly emerged titans, hoping to fell them in droves. Shells flew, bombs rained from the airships above. Yet the colossals lurched onward, unstoppable. Each titan was colossal beyond imagination. Their combined heat wave alone melted incoming shells mid-air. Several entire platoons of the Allied Forces opened fire with anti-titan shells, but it felt like trying to stop a towering tidal wave with a handful of pebbles.

Near the center of the Allied lines, Commander Magath shouted for an immediate fallback. The ocean of colossal titans advanced, trampling everything in their path, but the Allied Forces had not come with a plan to cower. With adrenaline spiking in every soldier, some advanced, trying to die with honor. Some retreated, wanting to regroup for a more coordinated counterattack. Others lost themselves entirely to panic, dropping weapons and scrambling for safety that simply did not exist. The chaos was total.

Back in the near center of Shiganshina’s ruins, Levi and the other scouts stumbled, eyes darting around for any sign of Eren’s true body. The War Hammer Titan’s power had clearly been integrated into Eren’s new form, but Hange’s knowledge told her the War Hammer Titan typically stayed underground, controlling its body by a tetherlike cord. “Look for the cord!” Hange yelled, voice cracking. 

Armin, exiting the nape of his Colossal Titan, had used precious minutes to rescue Reiner, Porco, and Pieck from the onslaught so they could join him. Now, with all of them regrouping behind a partially standing turret, they scanned the monstrous shape of Eren’s new form. Indeed, at the base of Eren’s colossal being, a thick cord-like protrusion led underground, presumably to a subterranean area. It glowed with the same eerie luminescence as the skeleton plating around his limbs.

“He’s gone underground to protect himself,” Armin realized, breathing heavily, sweat pouring from his brow. “He’s controlling that monstrous shape from a safe vantage point. And if he’s maintaining physical contact with Zeke, he can maintain this indefinitely, as long as no one kills Zeke.”

Porco spat blood from a previous injury and glared at the Allied Forces in the distance. “That’s why the Allied Forces are so frantic. They know they have to kill Zeke. If they fail, the Rumbling can’t be stopped.”

Reiner, battered and half dazed, let out a choked whisper, “So this is it… Eren’s truly unleashed them all?”

Hange’s glasses were cracked, but her eyes were sharp, focusing on the impossible spectacle of the entire horizon moving with giant footsteps. “Yes,” she said in a trembling voice. “This is the Rumbling.”

At that exact moment, Eren’s presence swept through every Subject of Ymir. It happened like a chill passing over the back of their necks, like an echo on the edge of consciousness. Then they all found themselves momentarily pulled into a corner of the Paths—some dim, vacant stretch where Eren, black hair swirling around him, stood at the center. And there, on Eren’s right side, was Aurora, her eyes hauntingly black and hollow. Between them was Ymir Fritz, that ancient figure everyone recognized now from the hush of ancestral memory. Ymir clutched the hand of both Eren and Aurora, tears streaking down her face, but her expression was unreadable—her eyes were black, as though in a trance. 

An instant later came Eren’s voice, rolling like thunder through their minds, more felt than heard:

Hear me, Subjects of Ymir. My name is Eren Yeager. I’m addressing my fellow Subjects of Ymir, speaking to you directly through the power of the Founder. All the hardening on the island of Paradis have crumbled to the ground, and the legions of titans buried within have begun their march. My only goal is to protect the lives of my wife and child, as well as the people of the Eldian race. Right now, the nations of the world are united in the desire to exterminate my people. They won’t be satisfied until every last Subject of Ymir is dead. I won’t let them have their way. The titans of the walls will continue their march until every trace of life not of Eldian blood is trampled flat, and my people are all that remains of humanity.

Even the fearless Levi felt a jolt of alarm at Eren’s ruthless words, hearing them bounce in the empty corners of his mind. In that instant, Levi also glimpsed Aurora, Ymir, and Eren’s new haunting silhouettes in front of them. Then it ended, snapping everyone back into reality with their hearts hammering and their breath ragged.

Jean, trembling from fatigue, gasped, “That was Eren’s voice. Did you all see that? Aurora was there… with the Founder…”

Sasha’s face was pale, her arm still bloodstained from her earlier wound. “She’s supposed to be in Mitras. She was—she’s pregnant. Why… how is she in the Paths?”

Connie looked from Sasha to Jean, panic and confusion etched on his face. “Did you see the founder in that place, holding Aurora’s hand? It’s like they were… I don’t even know.”

Mikasa stared at the ground, fists clenched so tightly her knuckles were white. She recalled how Aurora had once mentioned being haunted by a “ghost girl” who turned out to be Ymir Fritz. She realized Aurora might have been the key to unlocking the Founding Titan’s power. But how? Aurora lacked the ability to shift. Her instincts told her that the situation had become something far bigger than they could easily comprehend.

Levi grit his teeth. “So… Eren’s actually going to flatten the entire world. This is going to be a slaughter.” He turned, scanning the battlefield where the Allied Forces flailed hopelessly against the advancing colossals. “But we have no choice. The world made their choice and we made ours.”

Hange nodded, wiping soot from her face. “As much as I hate this.... there’s nothing we can do except make sure Eren manages to pull this off. He’s controlling that monstrous titan from somewhere safe. Our best bet is to make sure Zeke stays alive.”

Then suddenly, the group was forced to scatter when a barrage of artillery shells rained down from above. Planes circled again, peppering the district with gunfire. Levi roared, “Move!” and the battered team dove for cover. They had no immediate opening to attempt a direct sabotage against the Allied Forces attempts to stop Eren. Survival alone was a herculean feat in the face of so many attacking fronts.

In the swirl of confusion and carnage, Reiner watched helplessly as the unstoppable colossals marched outward, flattening entire Allied battalions with casual ease. The proud soldier in him, who once believed in Marley’s cause, was drowning in sorrow. He had left behind Falco, Gabi, and the Eldians in the internment zone, believing that if he’d come to Paradis sooner, maybe they could find a better path and he could’ve saved his mother. Now the better path looked like total genocide. He could hardly breathe as he watched cannon fire vanish into the blazing heat of the Rumbling. 

From the Allied side, a new wave of desperation overcame them. The Rumbling colossals had begun stepping beyond Shiganshina’s gates, taking the fight into the wide fields. The Allied Fleet’s ships that had docked at the harbor unleashed full salvos of cannonfire. Mighty airships attempted bombing runs over the swath of colossals. Yet each time they launched an assault, the searing steam from the colossals evaporated or deflected the worst of it. And thousands of Allied troops were squashed underfoot whenever they tried to mount a direct push.

Eren’s monstrous figure, overshadowing even the colossals, pivoted slowly, scanning the chaos. In the open space around him, entire city blocks collapsed under the repeated quakes of a million titan footsteps. Flames licked the edge of Shiganshina, sparked by the unstoppable friction of so many colliding forces. The stench of blood and smoke thickened the air. Amid this bedlam, that thick, glowing tether—rooted to Eren’s foot—began to twitch, yanking downward into the ground, as though hooking more firmly into hidden bedrock. It was a jarring sight, reminiscent of the War Hammer Titan’s method of burrowing its user safely beneath the battlefield. This time, however, it connected Eren’s colossal new form directly to a location far away: the heart of the capital, Mitras.

…

Far from the carnage, in the quiet, ornate hallways of the royal palace, a deep rumbling shook the structure. Historia, bracing herself against the wall, gasped as a massive spike of crystal erupted from the floor. The terrified Jaegerist guards scrambled backward, rifles raised in confusion. The doctor with them nearly fell onto his knees, certain the entire building was about to collapse. Dust rained from the ceiling as floor tiles ruptured, and in the center of it all, a towering crystal shape elongated, tinted the color of bone and shimmering with the War Hammer Titan’s power. A thick cord of hardened substance connected it to something below ground. Everyone stared in open-mouthed shock. None of them had seen anything like this. It was so reminiscent of the War Hammer Titan’s constructs, but on a scale far beyond.

Historia took a shaky step forward, eyes wide. “What… is that?”

One of the Jaegerists dared approach, prodding it with the butt of his rifle. The crystal was impenetrable, rippling faintly with hidden energy. Then, slowly, a shape became clear inside. A human figure floated, partially clad in muscle fibers. Dark hair, faint stubble. It was Eren, suspended in a comatose posture, cables of hardened Titan matter wound around his limbs. He looked as though asleep, eyes closed. Everyone reeled. The doctor lowered his head, as though unable to process the bizarre sight.

“But… Eren is in Shiganshina, isn’t he?” one of the guards whispered, confused. “How could he—”

Historia swallowed, recalling the Founding Titan’s powers, the War Hammer Titan’s bizarre ability, and the knowledge that Eren had absorbed both. A memory flickered: Of how the War Hammer Titan could hide its real body underground while controlling a remote shell. Now Eren was applying the same principle, except he was controlling that monstrous shape in Shiganshina from this crystal. “He’s protected himself,” Historia said aloud. “He… must be in control of the Rumbling from here. He’s physically here, but out there as well. That tether must run all the way from Shiganshina to the capital.”

A hush fell. The building trembled again, but the crystal remained stable. Outside, the rumbling of a million colossal footsteps echoed, though it felt distant compared to the silent terror inside. The doctor stared in a mixture of awe and dread. “If that’s Eren, then… he’s unstoppable. Even if the Allies kill the giant body in Shiganshina, he can just reform it from here.”

The Jaegerist guards exchanged uneasy looks. Some seemed enthralled by Eren’s unstoppable might, others frightened by the implication that the entire world was about to be crushed. Yet none voiced real opposition. They had pledged loyalty to Eren’s cause months ago. One guard swallowed and forced a salute in the crystal’s direction, as though Eren might sense it. “He’s truly become the Devil of Paradis,” the guard muttered, trembling.

Nearby, Aurora shuddered in her bed. She had just emerged from another wave of labor pains, beads of sweat lining her brow. Her eyes half-lidded with exhaustion, she could still sense, deep within her, the presence of Ymir. She had felt the entire transformation unfold in her mind’s eye. It reminded her of the vow she made in the Paths: to let Ymir be reborn as her child. The reality of that promise weighed on Aurora’s heart. She had once believed that she and Eren could find a path without genocide, but now everything was shattered by the unstoppable force Eren had invoked.

Still panting from the pain of contractions, Aurora forced herself to sit up, ignoring the doctor’s frantic protests. “I’m not letting this kill me,” she hissed through gritted teeth. “Eren… he’s… he’s safe, right?” The doctor, uncertain how to answer, gave her a curt nod, more an attempt to keep her calm than a real certainty.

Historia, swallowing back her own worries for Porco, stepped toward Aurora, gently wiping sweat from her friend’s brow. “He’s okay,” she whispered. “He’s inside that crystal, controlling that monstrous titan. And… he’s unleashed the Rumbling. We all heard his announcement. We all saw him in the Paths.”

A spasm of guilt flickered across Aurora’s features. She half expected a wave of condemnation from the people around her. This decision Eren made would kill countless people across the sea, entire families, entire nations. Yet none of the Jaegerists openly challenged her. They had pinned all their hopes on Eren, and if Eren said the world must burn, they would follow his will. Aurora herself felt a swirl of horror and acceptance: she had chosen to stand by Eren’s side, to trust him to protect their child, and part of her was numb from the overwhelming dread of what was unfolding.

As if to confirm it, the building groaned again. Windows rattled, threatening to shatter at any moment. The crystal that encased Eren pulsed faintly with a dull heartbeat. “He’s unstoppable,” a Jaegerist muttered, half in awe, half in terror.

Historia, hands trembling, turned to the window. She couldn’t see the horizon from here, but she knew that if she could, it would be filled with steam and chaos. She whispered, “Porco… Reiner… all of them must be in the thick of it.”

Aurora closed her eyes, focusing on breathing through the pain that wracked her body. “They’ll survive,” she said softly, more a plea than a statement. “They have to. Eren… Eren said he’s only aiming for the outside world. Not the Eldians in Marley, not anyone on Paradis. They just have to hang on.”

Outside the city, the tether continued to stretch, bridging the capital to Shiganshina. Eren’s new titan form pressed forward, directing wave after wave of colossal titans to begin marching outward from Paradis’s southern coastline. The Allied Forces in the harbor, faced with these unstoppable behemoths, realized too late that Eren’s plan encompassed more than just the immediate region. The colossals lumbered into the sea itself, the water hissing as their scorching bodies turned it to mist, clearing the path for them to begin crossing. Warships stationed offshore bombarded them, but the line of colossals kept advancing, unstoppable in their single-minded purpose.

Meanwhile, the monstrous figure that was Eren’s Founding Titan remained in Shiganshina, easily swatting away any final pockets of resistance. The Allied Forces who tried to push into the district found themselves facing a horrifying sight: charred heaps of men and artillery, collapsed towers, entire swathes of the city decimated. Overhead, the sky was thick with black smoke, illuminated by the fiery glow of the ongoing meltdown at the coast. The entire island of Paradis quaked with each step these colossals took.

Back in the battered remnants of Shiganshina, Levi and the others could only watch as Eren’s massive shape guarded the newly freed colossals. The bullet that Magath had fired, which had nailed Zeke’s nape, was now a footnote in a much larger tragedy. Levi stared with hateful eyes at the monstrous silhouette. He had wanted to kill Zeke for months, for everything that had happened: the slaughter of the Survey Corps, the repeated betrayals, the attempted euthanization plan. Now it was too late. Zeke’s presence was locked inside that hideous form, or perhaps beneath it, tethered with the War Hammer’s power. If miracrlously Zeke tried to escape, Eren could fling entire streets of debris at him or direct colossals to snatch him back.

Eren’s broadcast had told them all he was destroying the world to save the Eldian race. The finality of that statement weighed heavily on them. Mikasa, her heart battered by the knowledge that the boy she’d grown up with and whom she loved more than anyone else was now orchestrating global genocide, could only stand numb, tears stinging her eyes. Armin, traumatized by the scale of destruction unfolding, was paralyzed with guilt at the thought of how many lives, civilizations and cultures that will be lost.

Jean pressed a bloodstained cloth against a gash on his cheek, gritting his teeth. “So… is this it?” he asked bitterly. “We just let Eren flatten the entire world, then rebuild whatever’s left for ourselves on top of billions of bodies?”

No one answered. The entire group wore expressions of sorrow and dismay. They all hated that it came to this. But what choice did they have? It was either kill or be killed in this cruel world. 

High above, Commander Magath retreated with the remnants of his force. He had pulled out a scope, focusing it on Eren’s monstrous form. He’d never felt so powerless. “We had one chance,” he whispered to himself, voice shaking. “We had one damn chance to kill them both—Zeke and Eren—and I failed.” The entire Allied Coalition seemed to be in shambles, their warships in chaos, their land forces pinned, their air units either destroyed or fleeing. The unstoppable line of colossals had begun crossing into the ocean, unstoppable, unstoppable…

Some soldiers tried to rally, to aim one last time at Eren. Others considered turning their guns on themselves in despair, unwilling to face the inevitable stampede. The entire battlefield reeked of hopelessness, as if the weight of Eren’s new power had sucked the very breath from them.

Eren’s titan continued his methodical push forward, guiding the unstoppable wave of colossals beyond Shiganshina’s perimeter. Some advanced east and west, to clear any pockets of Allied survivors, while the main mass pressed south. The ground shook so violently that many watchers on the walls fell to their knees. Dust and soot caked every surface. A hot wind smothered the city, courtesy of the colossals’ steam.

Meanwhile, in the capital, the air was thick with tension as the newly formed crystal spike loomed in the palace’s main courtyard, its occupant—Eren’s physical body—floating in suspended animation. Historia stood by the window with two of her guards, watching it from a distance, while the doctor hovered near Aurora’s side, trying in vain to calm her. Aurora pressed her hand to her abdomen, feeling the persistent contractions, tears at the edge of her eyes as she pictured the unstoppable army her husband now commanded.

She refused to let regret consume her, but sorrow stung her chest. “I promised I’d stand by him,” she murmured, voice trembling. “I said I’d share the burden. This is… the price.”

The doctor quietly said, “Your Majesty, Mrs. Jaeger, pardon me, but we should move you to a safer wing of the palace. The walls are shaking so much. The entire building could collapse.”

Historia, overhearing, gave a curt nod. “Yes, please, help me relocate Aurora to the safest area possible. If… if the walls start falling, we can’t risk her being trapped.”

Aurora looked around at the frantic faces of the Jaegerist guards, who seemed torn between wanting to flee the capital or remain loyal. She realized they were in no immediate danger from the colossals—Eren was clearly flattening the outside world, not the interior of Paradis. But the quake of so many colossal footsteps was enough to threaten the palace’s structural integrity.

A swirl of conflicting emotions coursed through Aurora’s mind. She had glimpsed Eren’s message in the Paths just as everyone else had. She had seen him standing there, Ymir by his side, and Aurora herself also present. That image was seared into the minds of every Eldian who’d glimpsed the Founder’s broadcast. Now she had to push aside the guilt at how many would die for her child’s future. Ymir’s future. She forced a steady breath and followed the doctor’s instructions as he and two guards gently guided her from the lounge to a more interior suite with thicker walls and fewer windows, presumably safer from falling debris.

Through a half-collapsed corridor, Aurora and her entourage reached a small chamber with walls of solid stone. Outside, they could see the monstrous tether winding from the ground up into the crystal. It glowed with an otherworldly luminescence. Aurora knew that Eren was in some kind of trance, controlling his titan body from here, with Zeke forcibly attached. She wondered if Zeke was conscious, or if the Hallucigenia had fused him to Eren’s will. In any case, it no longer mattered. Eren had made his choice. She had made hers.

After settling Aurora on a cushioned seat, the doctor began checking her pulse, counting the contractions. With each wave of pain, Aurora clenched her teeth, refusing to cry out. She could sense Ymir’s presence in the back of her mind. The vow they had made. She recalled Eren’s savage look in the Paths, the unspeakable sorrow on Ymir’s face, the fear in Zeke’s wide eyes. All culminating in the unleashing of the Rumbling that even King Fritz had once threatened but never used. Now it was real, and the world beyond these walls was paying the price.

The final glimpses of the battered battlefield in Shiganshina included entire streets crumbling under the quake, the Allied Forces scattering in disarray. On the horizon, the unstoppable silhouette of Eren’s Titan self loomed like a dark omen, the mass of colossals marching in rows behind him, scorching the fields, unstoppable as the ocean’s tide. Overhead, the last few airships from the Allies fled, unwilling to sacrifice themselves in vain. Magath stood on the ground with a small cluster of battered men, teeth gritted, tears burning his eyes in fury at the unstoppable power now unleashed.

Thus, the people of Paradis, the battered survivors of Marley’s assault, and the entire Allied Coalition realized they had collided with an apocalypse none could have prevented in that final second. The Rumbling had begun in earnest, rewriting the shape of the entire conflict. Eren’s vow in the Paths echoed through every Eldian mind, instilling either unwavering loyalty or abject horror, depending on one’s prior stance. The unstoppable legion marched outward, unstoppable. By day’s end, entire nations beyond the ocean would see that massive wall of steam on the horizon.

And in Mitras, Aurora pressed a trembling hand to her belly, even as another fierce contraction gripped her. She felt Ymir’s presence inside her mind, the promise they’d made. Her future now intertwined with Ymir’s desire to live again in a kinder world. Eren had guaranteed that child a future free from the cruelty of the outside world—and the price was horrifying. Aurora could only close her eyes, breathing through the pain, while outside the palace windows, the cord of Eren’s crystal tethered him to the unstoppable Rumbling, forging a new destiny out of blood and rubble.

The final moment was that eerie hush that followed the unstoppable footsteps heading away from the district, the ground quaking every few seconds, a constant reminder that the colossal tide was on the move. The scout survivors stared, hearts in turmoil, at the horizon. The Allied Forces wept or stood paralyzed. Commander Magath fumed, cursing Eren’s name. Zeke, entombed with Eren, found himself pinned in a chain of unstoppable inevitability. And Ymir’s tears, in the ephemeral space of the Paths, lingered like silent droplets of heartbreak, as she turned the wheel of fate for every living soul in the world—giving Eren the power he so desperately sought, sealing the doom of the outside world, all for the sake of a baby not yet born and the dream of an ancient slave longing for love and freedom.

~

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[tallbluelady]

i didn't know people like you existed.

Hear. Feel. Think.

Lucky Apple remembered those words from the story her father told her; the story of what lead him to the cereuleum well and made them lucky.

She found herself floating in a veritable sea of aether. Had she died, and returned to the Living Waters? Only her family believed in them now, the new church peddling salvation in Lightning aspected aether and the blood of the pure.

I am sorry. I'm... I am so very sorry.  That wasn't what Apple was expecting from the Voice of the Waters. Rejoining the Lifestream was to be a joyous event, especially to those waiting for her on the other side.

"Am I not dead then?" Apple asked, realizing she had a voice to speak with, and a body to move with.

"No. But I cannot prevent your death, nor the death of your world," the Voice seemed to center itself in a column of light.

Apple swam over to the light the voice was coming from. It was as easy as swimming in the lake as a child, back when there was still enough water in it to do so. Despite all of Apple's efforts to save what precious water there was left, it was as if all of it was being boiled away.

"I mean, I can't either," she said, trying to comfort the Voice. "I think we would have had to start a lot earlier and with a lot more people to do something like that."

The Voice in the column of light seemed to bend in on itself, almost as if holding back a sob. Was it?

"I am sorry I did not... I am sorry that you are one of the so very few who has heard my plea..." The Voice did sound as if it was holding back tears now. "I tried so long to ignore this world's plight. I cannot interfere. Its fate is set... but I see you. I see all of you and your pain and I wish to stop it. But I can't."

"Why not?" Lucky Apple asked. "Are you not powerful enough to do so?"

"Not if I am to save another," the column straightened, and the Voice took a stronger tone. "Though it may not seem so to you and yours, I am limited in my power to help you. And I must fulfill my mission to the future."

"Oh."

"Oh?" The Voice sounded incredulous. "Well, it's not like the power that the church is peddling is going to stop the world from ending either. At least there's a reason for it all to end. To save another. To save the future. I can accept being a sacrifice for that."

"Not everyone is as willing as you."

Apple shook her head. "No, and they shouldn't be. But... Voice? Actually, what should I call you? I think you're different than the Living Waters."

The light rippled for a moment, and a figure of a woman took shape. "I have many names, and the Living Waters is but one of them. You may continue using it if you wish."

Lucky Apple paused for a moment. The Living Waters had always been... not something person shaped. Occasionally, there were some called to be Its voice but the way it was speaking sounded like it was her God, not the representative...

"Mrs. Waters. I am making a choice to make the world a better place. For everyone that I can. For as long as I can. I've learned that sometimes, you have to let people pout and feel bad, but that doesn't mean that you, yourself, have to feel bad. Most of life isn't what happens to you, it's how you react to it. So I decided to take it as well as I can."

"That is very noble of you," the Living Waters said.

"I don't know how else to be," Apple admitted. "It's either happy or existentially depressed. So I guess I'll focus on the little things I can enjoy while I can."

The Living Waters smiled at her sadly but did not speak. 

Apple smiled back. "So... if I'm not dead... why am I here?"

"Ah... I... I did not assume there were any to hear my call on your world left. That you had ears to hear is a blessing."

"I'm a blessing?"

The Living Waters laughed, of all things. "Lucky Apple, you are by far one of the greatest blessings I've had in a long time. Someone who can see happiness, even in the darkness that comes to swallow her world and her life... it gives me hope for the future. And I need more and more of it as my enemies continue to grow in power."

"Oh!" Apple beamed at that.

"I suppose... I would ask you what you want from this encounter. What would make it easier for you to carry your light through the darkness, to help you ease the suffering of others?"

Apple put a hand to her chin at that. What would make it easier for her to continue on as the Living Waters wanted?

"You'll remember us, right?" Lucky Apple asked. "That we lived?"

"I will. Your souls will join the Great Lifestream of other worlds as well, so your very souls won't be lost either."

"Oh, neat! That's great. Uh. While that does make it easier... I, uh..."

"Is there anything specific that you want remembered?"

"My earring," Lucky Apple blurted out. It was the first thing that came to mind.

"Your earring?" The Living Waters tilted her head, then put a hand over her mouth.

"It's, ah, I know it's..." Apple was blushing and sputtering. Why would she have that be the thing to be remembered?

"My child, I can say for a certainty that your earring will be remembered, and will bring hope to the future."

"Really, you can do that? It won't hurt the future?"

The Living Waters gave Apple a wink. "It is already written. For the hope you have given me, I shall make sure that your glass pumpkin earring is carried through to the next world."

Thanks for the prompt!

[azems-familiar]

a kiss on the forehead as the other sleeps .

(dealers choice for FFXIV ships!)

- 🦊

this is set during dawntrail, with some spoilers as to the second half of the expansion. also i banged it out this afternoon and didn't bother to edit it....i just wanted to write some soft introspection/sweetness. so here you are!

-

Solution Nine is an eerie place to try to sleep. The faint glow through the window is a strange blue-violet color that reminds her of the storms surrounding Nidhogg’s lair; it’s the electrope, she knows, alive with lightning aether. In the quietest areas of the city, she can hear it faintly buzzing, a current that never quite stops. Here, in this apartment they’ve been so kindly given to use by the city’s so-called queen, the perpetual noise of it all is somewhat dimmed, but she can still hear the vehicles passing back and forth outside, and she can still hear the electrope.

If Lelesu were to leave the bedroom she and Themis had claimed for their own, she suspects she’d find Hades and Hythlodaeus still awake in the living room. Hades has struggled to settle since he realized which shard had found its way into the Source - since he was confronted with the consequences of his actions once again - and Hythlodaeus had told her he intended to stay with him, to try to calm him. It certainly doesn’t help matters that Hades is nearly ready to storm the upper levels of Everkeep himself if it means finding Raha…not that she can blame him. Sphene has been frustratingly opaque, and the promises that she’ll return Raha to them as soon as Zoraal Ja lets her ring hollow. The only obvious thing about it all is that Sphene hopes to turn them against her supposed king now that he has outlived his use to her.

She’s tempted to get up, in all honesty. They have a great deal to be doing - they need to learn more about Alexandria and the city itself, they need to find out more about Zoraal Ja’s plans, they need to decide what to do with the Endless Hades had mentioned, they need to find Raha…the list goes on. But a soft sigh and rustling cloth next to her stops her.

When she looks down at the other side of the bed, there are lines in Themis’s face, only partly obscured by his loose hair. For all that he has managed to sleep soundly enough since they made their way into the dome, and for all that he has been quieter about his discomfort than Hades, she knows he still feels it. He hasn’t spoken on what, if anything, he recalls about this nearly-doomed shard - the Ninth, Hades had said - and its descent into conditions suitable for Rejoining. He may not have been involved at all, of course; she knows his primary focus was keeping balance on the Source. But it’s clear it upsets him all the same.

Lelesu brushes his hair back from his face and smooths her fingers over his brow, and he settles at the touch, exhaling slowly. It brings a small smile to her face - the visible sign of his trust in her, that she not only does not wake him but that she can calm him through whatever disturbs his sleep. She tucks one arm around her knees, shifting closer to him, and absently combs her fingers through his hair, over and over again, a steady, soothing motion. He isn’t the only one calmed by the touch, she thinks a little wryly.

She doesn’t like Alexandria. And ever since Raha boarded the train ahead of them, planning to meet them at the station…well. Maybe she’s a bit more sensitive to people she cares about simply vanishing from her lives after Ultima Thule, but it’s terrifying to think about how long it’s been for him. Thirty years gone in a flash, and how easily it had happened. And then, so soon after, the attack on Tuliyollal…

She’s grateful, of course, that Y’shtola and Wuk Lamat had both promised to watch Aikaterini while they handle this. It’s difficult to imagine that any harm could come to her daughter with such fearsome protectors…but Gulool Ja Ja had fallen because she and Corrain weren’t there to intervene. It feels a little bit like everything is falling apart again, when this was supposed to be a reprieve, when- when she knows they’d all dared to hope that things would finally settle now that the Final Days are no longer a threat and the remaining Ascians can be…more or less easily handled whenever they appear. They were supposed to have time, and the dome’s appearance and everything that followed has just been a harsh reminder of the threats always hanging over her head.

Even if it isn’t her directly being targeted, she’s a Warrior of Light. She’s a hero of the realm, and even if she isn’t truly Azem’s successor she shares his fate, just as she has since they were young. She can’t help but be involved with world-shattering events like these. Why had she ever thought otherwise? Even Aymeric had known it, in the end.

…but they aren’t alone, and above all else, she hopes that that means they can make quick work of this threat and return to a calmer, simpler life. No matter what else happens, her best friend and the rest of her family is in another room (mostly), the ones that aren’t with her are safe (she thinks), and Themis is asleep next to her, warm and alive. As long as they’re all alive, that’s all she needs.

She looks down at Themis again. In the low light from the window his pale skin and white hair take on a nearly-luminous quality; he’s beautiful, she finds herself thinking. And he has the right idea. She really ought to be asleep too, if she wants to be at her best for whatever tomorrow may bring. Musing over everything that’s happened will just tire her out more, and she doubts she can think of too much else on her own. And yet…

With a sigh, she leans over and presses a kiss to Themis’s forehead, warm and soft and lingering. He stirs slightly at the touch, eyes blinking blearily open, and frowns up at her, a hazy unfocus in his blue gaze. “Lelesu?” he murmurs, voice rough and husky with sleep. “You ought to be resting.”

“I know, I know.” She shakes her head slightly, and he tugs one hand from beneath the blankets to reach up and nudge his knuckles against her cheek. “Go back to sleep, Themis.”

“I should be glad to if you join me, my guiding star.” A small smile curls across his lips, and she can’t help but laugh softly at the hint of mischief in it. Even half-asleep, he still manages to be a tease.

“What a terribly subtle manipulation worthy of the great Elidibus,” she says somberly, though halfway through the sentence she finds herself breaking into a yawn. “Alright, yes, I’m lying down. I just…” She lets out a long breath, flattening her legs and scooting back to settle, and Themis tugs the blankets up over her and tucks her under his arm, tilting forward to lean his forehead against hers. There’s a terrible intimacy in the closeness, the sharing of breaths, and it loosens the tension in her chest.

“We will see this through,” he murmurs, curling his fingers loosely around the back of her neck. “I promise you.”

And held so securely, his assurance echoing in her ears, she discovers the buzzing electrope isn’t so loud after all.