#hands are tied until it directly impacts you

[comas-are-for-sleeping]

this tik tok ban bill is really making me realize how much the government cares about controlling its citizens rather than taking care of them. maybe my idea of what the government does prior to this was entirely incorrect--maybe a government should be in the business of controlling its citizens rather than helping them. but that really doesn't sit right with me

[dingus11111]

‼️HOTTIE ALERT‼️

BORO SMUT <3

Includes: Sub!Bottom!Male reader, Dom!Top!Boro, Sadist!Boro, Masochist!Reader, CIA!Reader, bondage, sexual torture, nipple play, edging, BLOOD, choking, videotaping, butt plugs, impact play, CBT, subspace, biting, knife play, use of “sir” for Boro, and probably more shit.

DUB-CON/NON-CON

FEM/FEM ALIGNED DNI!!!!

VERY FUCKING LONG FIC BTW!!!

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SMACK!

A loud slap echoed the darkly lit, dingy, concrete room.

Your face was red and slightly swollen. You were half naked with your shirt off, but your pants and boxers were still on. You had a blindfold on, and couldn’t see anything.

Your breath hitched as a large hand grasped your cheeks and forced your face to lift up to face the man doing this to you.

“I’ll ask you again… What is your real name, and who are you working with?”

Your mouth wasn’t gagged, so you took this chance to show him that you would never tell him. You gathered as much spit in your mouth as you could manage and spat on his face, hoping you had hit him with it.

Unfortunately, you did hit him.. DIRECTLY in the face. This made him angry. REALLY angry.

He growled in aggravation before stepping back to think about his next move.

After a minute or so, he took off your blindfold. As the blindfold fell to the floor, you looked up at your captor. The well known Boro Polonia had you tied up to a chair and at his mercy.

He quickly grabbed a gag from the table next to him, and put it on you.

“You’re cute for an traitor. Since you didn’t answer my questions, I believe I’ll have to use… harsher… methods.” Boro smirked softly.

You raised a brow, curious as to what he meant. That curiosity was wiped off of your face as he punched your jaw to knock you out. Everything went black and your body went limp.

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Your eyes flickered open. You felt cold. Too cold. A shiver ran through your body before you really started to take in your surroundings.

Your hands were chained to the ceiling, and you were stripped naked.

You began to feverishly look around and thrash at your confines. A cry for help escaped your lips, but it was muffled due to the gag in your mouth.

After a minute or more of struggling, you heard footsteps. Your eyes darted to the person who had entered the room.

It was Boro.

He approached you agonizingly slow, allowing you to take in the fact that his eyes were on your body.

You began to struggle again, screaming against the gag.

Boro chuckled at your anger and fear. His hand caressed your torso, starting at your sternum and making his way down to your lower abdomen. Your breath hitched as his hand got dangerously close to your flaccid dick.

He looked down and then back up at your face, a smug grin painted on his.

“Now, let’s begin…” He strode over to a table next to where you were confined and grabbed something.

The room was too dimly lit for you to tell what it was. As he leisurely strolled back to his spot before he moved, you noticed multiple objects in his hand. You shook your head in objection and began to wiggle again.

“Shut up!” He yelled as he slapped you across the face hard. A muffled groan fell from your lips. A small amount of what felt like electricity rushed to your penis.

“Good..” Boro continued.

He began to show off the items that were in his hand.

“A whip to pry information out of you… A sounding rod for later, and lastly..” He smiled.

“A knife.” His eyes burned holes into your body, causing the slightest blush to appear on your cheeks.

Your cock was now half hard and Boro liked that. He smirked, enjoying seeing you like this, and even starting to grow hard himself.

After a minute or so of him peering at your body, he stepped back and put two of the three items down on the table. The object remaining in his grasp was none other than the whip.

“I’m going to remove your gag, and you will tell me what you know. If you do not comply, I will hurt you until you do.” Boro announced with a straight face.

He walked up to you and removed your gag. Spit dripped out of your mouth due to being gagged for so long.

You noticed that the whip in his hand was not a normal whip. It was a type that was designed for torture and could even kill you in severe cases. It had metal beads at the end that were followed by some knots as well. You shivered slightly.

“Tell me what you know.” He said coldly.

You glared at him before speaking.

“Even if I knew, I wouldn’t tell you anything.”

His brow furrowed.

“So be it.” He muttered.

CRACK!

The first lash of the whip ran diagonally across your torso, leaving a deep-ish gash. Blood trickled from the wound, staining the concrete floor below you. You were paralyzed in shock. Nothing could come out of your mouth. Not a single sound. Tears welled up in your eyes from the pain.

WUH-PSHH!

Another lash. Another wound across your torso. The pain was immense, and for some reason.. your cock was fully hard. The pain of the whip and the shame of being hard mixed together causing your mind to spiral. You couldn’t tell him what he wanted to know, yet you wanted this to stop. To stop your shame. Your pain. Your pleasure that felt wrong to feel. Tears trickled down your face and your mouth opened.

“Please stop… no more! I- I’ll tell you what you want to know…”

You closed your eyes in guilt. You were betraying the CIA.

Boro paced up to you and looked down and your hard dick.

“Hmm.. It seems that, deep down, you want me to keep going.” He snickered.

You shook your head rapidly, clearly signaling that you didn’t want to be whipped again.

“I’ll tell you what you want to know.. just please no more whipping.” You cried.

Boro smiled at this.

“Go on. Tell me.”

You nodded. ‘I’m sorry everybody.’ You thought.

“My name is M/N L/N.. and I work for the CIA.”

Boro looked extremely pleased as you said this.

“Good boy…” He praised as he brought one of his hands over your whip lashes.

You winced in pain, yet your cock twitched and leaked a bead of precum. He noticed this and chuckled.

“You like the pain, don’t you M/N?” He teased as he brought his finger tips down your dick and lightly touched the tip.

A soft moan escaped your lips as he did so. He grinned and began to stroke you.

“Fuck.. Ngh…” You gasped out.

“I think you deserve a reward for betraying your colleagues.” Boro suggested.

He then stopped stroking your dick and stepped to the left of you. On the wall, there was a lever that caused the chains confining you to suspend you slightly. He pulled the lever and that caused you to fall to the ground. You groaned slightly. He walked over to you and unshackled your hands. He quickly pulled out some handcuffs and cuffed your hands together.

“Good.. Now, time for your reward.” A sweet, but slightly menacing smile appeared on his face.

“Kneel.” Boro ordered.

You obeyed, not wanting to be whipped again. Your eyes widened when you realized what he was doing. He unbuckled his belt and then unzipped his pants. There was a massive bulge in his boxers. Your breathing got faster as you eyed his clothed cock.

He pulled over a chair that was close to him. He took off his boxers before sitting down. His cock was huge. He was about 8 inches and girthy. He noticed the surprise in your eyes and laughed.

“You know what to do, M/N.”

A smirk was painted on his face as you attempted to crawl to get closer to him. Your hands were cuffed behind your back. You breathed shakily before licking the underside from the base to the tip. You then began to kiss and lick at the tip. A groan escaped Boro’s lips. As you started to bob your head up and down on his length, you brought your hands up to stroke what you couldn’t suck. He didn’t like this and growled. He tapped your cheek a few times and you stopped sucking. Once he had your attention, he spoke.

“Ah ah ah.. No hands.” He nodded in acceptance as you continued to suck him off, this time with no hands.

Eventually, he wanted to feel more of your throat, but you wouldn’t go any further. He tangled a hand into your hair, and gripped it. He pushed down on your head so that you took him all the way to the base. Your nose was shoved into his trimmed pubic hair. You moaned softly. Boro smirked and continued to face fuck you. Your eyes rolled back into your head as you gagged here and there. After a few minutes, you learned to relax your throat and breathe through your nose. A loud groan left Boro’s mouth as he had came into your mouth. He didn’t pull his dick out of your throat.

“Swallow all of it. You will take what I give you with appreciation for it.”

You swallowed all of his cum. The salty and bitter taste staying on your tongue, but for some reason, you wanted more.

Once he was satisfied, he pulled his cock out of your mouth. He was still half hard. You looked up at him, waiting for his next move.

He got up and stripped himself of his remaining clothes; that being his shirt. You blushed hard as you saw his defined biceps and toned abs.

“Get up.”

You obeyed. Once you were up, he nudged you over to the table that had numerous…devices… on it. He pushed them away and laid you on it. After he made sure that you were secure on the table, he grabbed a camera he pushed out of the way before. He set it up on a stand behind you so that when your face hung off the table, it would catch your face. And not just that, it would get EVERYTHING.

Boro walked back to his spot beforehand and smiled.

“Hello.” He greeted the camera.

“As you can see, I have one of your agents here.”

As you heard those words, you flushed in embarrassment. He was going to send this video to the CIA. The camera could see your body. Your hard cock. Your blushing face.

“For every minute that you do not rescue him, I will test his limits. I will push past them and ultimately break them.”

As he finished his sentence, you cried out. He had suddenly pushed his dick inside of you without any prep or lube whatsoever. You wanted to cover your mouth and stop the moans spilling from it, but your hands were handcuffed behind your back.

You moaned in both pain and pleasure as he began to thrust in and out.

“I don’t know.. I don’t think you should rescue him. He seems to be enjoying this.” Boro snickered.

His hands held your thighs apart and pushed them back as he fucked you in a standing missionary position.

“Aaahh… fuck.. Boro!~” You couldn’t help but moan his name.

He smirked at this.

“He’s really enjoying this.” He said to the camera.

Suddenly, he pulled out, and flipped you so that you were bent over the table. You looked confused as he did this.

“Wha-“ You were cut off as he thrusted back inside of you harshly.

He pounded into you, and the camera caught all of your faces of ecstasy. Your eyes rolled back as he hit your prostate.

It felt so fucking good for being so fucking wrong.

You started to go into subspace. Only being able to focus on the pleasure. His large dick and the way it felt inside of you. Drool seeped from your open mouth.

SMACK

He spanked you hard. This immediately woke you up from your trance. Your cock twitched from the pain.

“We’re going try something fun, okay?” He chuckled.

You couldn’t see behind you as he picked up a knife that was moved to the side and a sounding rod. He was nice enough to lube up the sounding rod before putting it against your tip. Your eyes widened as you realized what it was.

“W-wait!!” You begged.

He disregarded your please for mercy as he shoved it into your urethra in one go. You screamed in pain, only the slightest bit of pleasure filling the back of your head.

You breathed heavily, thinking it was over as he began to fuck you again. Boy, were you wrong…

Remember the knife he picked up? Well, he’s gonna use it.

As he continued to plow into your tight ass, he brought the knife up to your lower back.

“Want me to make you mine, baby?” He asked quietly so that the camera wouldn’t pick up the noise.

You nodded, thinking he would cum inside of your or something among the lines.

He grinned maliciously as he slowly began to carve the name “Boro,” into your lower back.

“FUCK!” You screamed in agony.

Tears of pure pain streamed down your face. It hurt so fucking bad, but something about it had you feeling just a smidge closer to your orgasm.

You breathed heavily with occasional whimpers and moans echoing from your exhausted body.

Boro felt himself getting close as well. The knot in your stomach grew as you realized that you had a sounding rod in your dick. You took it upon yourself to beg.

“Please, sir.. Please let me cum!” You begged him.

“You may cum once I have finished.” He responded.

A small gasp left his lips, signaling his upcoming orgasm.

After a few more thrusts, he pushed as deep as he could inside of you and came.

“Fuck..” He groaned as he continued to fuck you through his orgasm.

You felt his hand creep towards your dick and start to teasingly tug on the sounding rod. He repeatedly pulled it halfway out and then quickly pushed it back in causing your hole to clench around his cock tightly. Eventually, he pulled it out and you came hard. Cum spurted out of your twitching dick as your back arched. You screamed out his name in doing so. A pleased smile spread across his face.

You breathed heavily once your orgasm was over.

“You think we’re done?” He asked, rasing a brow.

You gasped as he pulled out and quickly shoved a butt plug inside of you to keep his cum from spilling out. He then lifted you up onto the table so that you faced the camera. His hands then snaked around your torso towards their target.

Your nipples.

He began to pinch, tug, flick, and roll them.

It felt so odd, but so good at the same time. Your cock started to harden again. You wished you could hide your face from the camera.

Boro saw this pinched your nipples particularly hard and choked you, causing you to moan loudly.

He addressed the camera.

“Is this the type of employees you hire for the CIA? Sluts who can’t get enough of what they are given?”

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FINALLY!! THAT WAS SITTING IN MY DRAFTS FOR A MONTH AND A HALF.

ANYWAYS, THANK YOU FOR READING!! HAVE A GREAT DAY AND DON’T HESITATE TO REQUEST THINGS!!

-Charlie <3

[the-kr8tor]

Claimed by the Sea

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 2.6k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), reader has nicknames, TW injury, TW drowning, CW blood.

Navigation

Between the Devil and the Sea Masterlist

Chapter 2 >>> Chapter 3

Your head is lolling off to the side, eyes growing heavy with the soft swaying of the ship in the waves. The only thing that's keeping you awake is the smell of fish lingering in the netting. Sniffing, you feel yourself succumbing to sleep.

You jolt awake when the fishing net jostles then slowly raises up, there's a mechanical whirring from the deck. The sun is peeking from the horizon, bathing you in blue.

“No, no, no!” Holding onto the net, you hold on for dear life. You just hope the sailors are friendly enough to let you on board until they dock to the nearest land.

Your only sanctuary floats above the deck, overlooking every crew moving about. Looking below, you spot their rugged clothing *They don't look like sailors. Maybe they're not wearing their blue uniform? It's casual Friday perhaps?

“Drop the bloody thing!” Someone yells from below, you and the net fall from a height that you're sure broke something in you.

With your eyes shut, you hit the deck with a splattering sound. Thankfully you land on the pile of fish, squishing a sizable chunk on the wood; decorating their ship with fish guts. Your butt hurts from the impact, you're for sure going to be picking out fish bones embedded in your skin.

Someone gasps loudly next to you. Hearing frantic slashing sounds, you shield your face from the shiny knife. Before you know it, you're free from the tangles on the net, baring yourself to the entire crew.

“Fuckin' hell! It's a mermaid!” A man with long blonde hair tied into a bun excitedly yells out.

You look at him with wide eyes, the large black flag hangs above him, the skeleton of a spider painted on the flag dances in the wind.

They're not from the royal navy.

Running footsteps come towards you, then they stop. You watch as twenty or so people circle around your fallen form. You instinctively cover yourself with the net. Their faces morph from surprise to amusement. Some laugh, some roll their eyes in annoyance.

A man with glasses slaps the blonde upside his head. “You idiot! Does she look like a fuckin’ mermaid to you?” he points at your legs that are clearly not fins.

The blonde looks disappointed, “Man, I thought my dream came true”

“Looks like we've got a stowaway!” They sneer and jeer, looking down at you, leaning their scarred faces close to your face. Too close.

“Get off me!” You push one away. Taking a fish from the ground to defend yourself. Throwing it directly at his eyepatch. They laugh louder at your expense.

“She's a fighter too! Cap’n! Look at what the fish dragged in!” A man with a peg leg, calls.

With heaving breaths you watch as a large man comes down from the steps of the quarter deck. His heavy footfalls quieting the roaring laughter immediately, his arms are as big as your head, tattoos decorating every inch of his ivory skin. His big bushy beard moves as he spits on the deck. Your eyes flick to his tree trunk like waist, his gun and cutlass glinting in the barely rising sun.

He huffs, smoke comes out of his nostrils. His eyes stare you down and you visibly shrink.

“C’mon, big man, bloody move it” a slender hand grabs the man's large shoulder, moving him away to reveal a tall, slim figure. He smiles once he takes you in. “What do we have ‘ere?”

“A stowaway, Cap’n” the one with glasses informs him. “Got into the fishing net”

He saunters over to you, heavy boots thudding against the wood. The metals hanging from his clothes are swinging and clashing as he moves. The crowd parts for him. His hands are in his leather vest, he looks at you like he's found buried treasure. His grey eyes are twinkling in the blue light, a smirk playing on his pierced lips.

You grab your necklace for comfort, heart sinking to your stomach, the golden chain is nowhere to be found. You pat around your neck and blouse. Nothing. You're alone.

“Thought ol’ Jamesy ‘ere found us a mermaid” he bends at the waist, giving you a full view of his chiselled face. His eyes are shining with amusement.

You recognize his face from all the wanted posters you've seen around different towns while travelling. If the circumstances were different you'd say the painting didn't capture him right; how his eyes look at you with hidden apprehensiveness, yet there's something dangerous in them, something that could spell your doom.

Your fear increases tenfold when you roam your eyes around the different faces watching you. There's recognition in some of them, some more than others, their bounties you've seen on their respective posters appear above their heads; each in increasing numbers.

“Aye, thought so too” ‘Jamesy’ mumbles dejectedly.

His voice shakes you out of your fear laden stupor, but it's still there, still in your quaking heart and sweaty palms.

“Y’know, we don't take too kindly to stowaways.” Hobie’s threat makes you jump in your skin.

“I heard you're not kind to anybody” you grit your teeth.

You're facing him head on, despite your heart pumping loudly against your ribcage when you get a glimpse of his twin blunderbusses strapped to his waist.

A smile spreads on his face, eyes crinkling in the corners. “Hear that lads? We're proper famous!” he leans away,

They all guffaw, snickering among the crowd. A blonde with chopped hair and pink highlights push through the audience. She clicks her tongue, sleep clinging to her lashes.

“What's all this, Hobie?”

“A stowaway, Gwendy. You remember what we do to stowaways?”

‘Gwendy’ rolls her eyes. “I'm too tired for this,” she sighs. “Let's hear her side before we push her off, yeah?”

Push me off?! Your eyes are widely roaming around the strangers, pleading for an ounce of mercy.

“Be my guest” He slides to the side, gesturing towards you.

The blonde stares at you, waiting for some explanation. You can't help but think you remember her from somewhere but you're drawing a blank. Swallowing a lump in your throat, the fishy smell and the numerous eyes on you turns your stomach inside out.

“I was–” the large man you thought was the captain stares daggers at you. “It was an accident, really. You see, I was incredibly drunk” you try to stop the shaking in your voice to sound more convincing. “And I thought I was going home, truly.”

“You thought a fishing net was your home?” the entire crew laughs rambunctiously.

Hobie observes you from the side, leaning on the bannister so casually.

“Maybe we should just turn around and bring her home. That'll be okay, right?” A teenager with curly hair and golden bangles on his wrists pipes up from the side.

You think of the man waiting for you at the docks. You'd rather be fed to the sharks.

“Yeah, 'm sure she'd like that, won't you, scuttlebutt?” The captain smirks at you, there's a knowing look on his face. “Unless you don't want to go home? I don't see why we can't just drop you off.”

He moves closer to you, squatting down to face you. “Or she doesn't want to go home, judging from the go bag, this isn't some little drunk accident.” you can feel your pulse trying to escape. His eyes never leave yours. “Sure you smell like fish but I don't smell any liquor on those pretty lips of yours.” Hobie tilts his head, smiling mischievously. “You're running from someone, aren't you?”

You glare at him despite the fear crawling up your neck.

He nods, “Yeah, you are. We'd rather not be involved with whatever you've got goin' on.” his face turns serious, not even a ghost of a smile. “Finn”

With one call, the giant man takes you by the shoulders, standing you back to your shaky feet. You squirm, doing your best to push him off, but it's no use, he's too strong.

“Sorry to see you go so soon but I've got my entire crew to worry ‘bout.” he says softly.

You scoff, spitting venom. “The only thing you pirates care about is treasure and your next mark.”

With one last fight, you stomp on the man's boot clad foot, headbutting him in quick succession. They hoot and holler as your vision swirls.

Your act of defiance didn't even make the man flinch, he grunts, narrowing his eyes at you. Hobie's lackey turns you around to face the sea and the entrance to your death. Looking over your shoulder, you see him raise his thick eyebrow at you in mild annoyance.

“She's a feisty one, Hobie, you sure we can't let her stay? I'll take good care of her” A tall ravenette coos at you, staring directly at you with her dark eyes.

“I agree with Hobie, she might bring trouble” Another teenager comments, he crosses his arms, his eyes stare at you with remorse.

The man pushes you towards the open side of the ship where a singular wooden plank hangs precariously. The corner of the railing hits the small of your back. Your bag falls loudly on the deck, but you've got bigger problems right now than the sparse savings you've hidden inside.

“Wait!” You swallow your pride, it's better than drowning in the cold salty waters. “Please I'll do anything to stay or– or you can drop me off to the nearest land! Just–!” Finn pushes you again, your feet shuffle to fit the thin wood. The wind picks up, whipping at you wildly. The waves crash harshly on the side of the ship.

The vertigo makes you dizzy.

“Please! I can't–!”

Finn unsheathes his cutlass, pointing it at your heaving chest. You feel the sharp tip draw blood. He pushes and pushes until you're on the very edge of the plank. You struggle to find your balance while the wind blows rapidly, it stings your eyes, tears forming in them.

They all watch, some are grinning ear to ear like it's the best theatre show they've seen. The others are looking away or staring at their feet. Hobie looks on, posture straight, knuckles tight on his side.

“I can't swim–!” With one last push from the sharp sword, you fall.

Just above you, the pirates run towards the bannister to watch you fall in the water with a large splash.

Your back is stinging from the impact of the water, head pounding against your skull. The cold is unbearable like needles pricking your skin. You try to paddle up despite your thick clothes bringing you further down in the dark abyss. The dim light acts as your guide to the surface but it doesn't seem like your body is moving, you're quickly losing air. Bubbles escape from your lips, the salt blurs your vision.

Desperately with one kick, you feel the air from your lungs empty out, legs numb, hands reaching out towards the surface.

You choke on the salty water.

Her smiling face emerges from the darkness, now you know you've drowned. The only reason she would want you back is in death.

There's a muffled splash, a warm hand reaching for your cold ones. An unfamiliar arm snakes around your waist, bringing you up to the surface. They Frantically kick up, you feel a feather light touch on your freezing cheeks.

“Oi!” A muffled voice says. “Oi! Don't make me do mouth to mouth!” His voice gets clearer, he shakes your head, you feel calloused fingers on your skin then a breath fanning against your lips.

You splutter out, expelling water from your lungs with a choke. Holding to the nearest, steady thing, you grasp onto what feels like strong shoulders. Beneath your shaking fingers you feel raised scars.

“There you go, let it out, scuttlebutt” he pats your back as you continue to cough out. Your nails dig into his bare skin, he doesn't seem to mind. “Good on you for not makin’ me do mouth to mouth, huh?”

You wheeze out. “You fucker”

“What?”

“I said, you fucker!” Pushing him away, you sink back into the water, you panic once again.

Hobie grabs your wrist with one hand to pull you up like freshly caught fish. You glare at him through wet lashes.

“I saved your life and you're callin' me fucker?” You want to smack the smirk off his face.

“I almost drowned because of you!”

“Yeah, but that doesn't matter now because I saved your land loving arse! Who at this age can't swim anyway?!”

“Me, you bitch!” you try to kick him underwater.

“Hey, do you want to catch hyperthermia or what?” Gwendy asks from the lowered dinghy, her foot is resting on the edge casually, hand on her chin and a pierced eyebrow raised questioningly at you and Hobie who splashes water directly at your face.

With some help, you dog paddle to the boat. The smiling teenager helps you up, you feel like a ton of bricks with your thick clothes drenched.

“Here,” he takes his coat to place it around your shivering shoulders. “I'm Pavitr by the way, you okay?”

Pavitr tries to rub your shoulders for extra warmth but you flinch back, hugging the coat tighter around you.

“I'm fine, thank you, Pavitr”

The blonde pipes up, “I'm Gwen”

You nod, good thing you haven't called her ‘Gwendy’ yet.

“You needed the bath anyway, fish girl” Hobie scoffs from the other side of the boat.

You glare at him, huddled to yourself in the corner of the raising boat. The squeaking from the pulley makes you hold onto the side tighter, just in case it fails and drops you back down in the freezing water.

Hobie chuckles, water drips off his bare chest, glittering under the peaking sun. You look away with a roll of your eyes.

“Gwen, give her something warm to eat, yeah? And some clothes.”

“I was about to do that anyway”

The boat reaches back up, the crew secures the rope on the pulley with a grunt.

Hobie drops down on the deck first, he offers his hand that you huff at. Ignoring his help, you step on to the ship with shaky legs.

“Sea legs, you have to get used to it or the next two weeks for you would be hell.”

“What?”

“‘m letting you on board until we reach land. Unfortunately for you that won't be for the next two weeks. After that we're even.”

“Look who's guilty for almost killing me” you stand toe to toe with him. The rest of the crew has either gotten bored or are watching you two squabble with a smile.

“Don't push your luck, fish girl or I'll make you walk the plank again” he challenges you with a sly smile.

“I have a name!”

The captain tilts his head, amused. “Yeah? Tell me then so I have something to write on your gravestone”

You point angrily at his tattooed chest, right on the inky drawing of a long legged spider. “It's Y/N, asshole!”

Gwen sighs, waving you off.

“Well, Y/N Asshole, keep that fire in you but don't let it burn down my ship or–”

“Or what?”

He stares at your eyes, swirling grey whirlpools threatening to pull you under. Hobie sighs, turning around abruptly, leaving you standing alone on the deck.

“Hey!” You call back, “or what huh?!”

He waves you off, “‘s too early for this shit, ‘m goin' back to sleep. Goodnight, fish girl!”

Change of plans: survive the next two weeks with an entire ship full of pirates or die drowning in the middle of the sea. That should be easy enough, right?

A/N: Thank you for reading 😘

[syllvane]

beginnings pt 2- nikolai lantsov x reader

You don’t get the luxury of figuring out that it’s an ambush until after you’ve been clocked in the head with a rifle, too focused on scope of your rifle to hear the footsteps coming up behind you.

When you wake up, it’s to the impact of your body being dropped out far in the harbor, too far out for anyone from the shore to hear you scream and cinderblocks tied to your legs to drown you.

“Kaz!” You screamed, your voice hoarse. “Jes!”

No response, no sound other than your own struggling in the water. 

A tide pulled you under and submerged you, pulling you further away from the shore, the city of Ketterdam becoming mere lights in the distance.

You swam up desperately, panting from the effort and lack of air.

You couldn’t survive like this for much longer.

You submerged yourself again and only as you instantly descended 10 feet as you gave up resistance did you realize that you had signed your death warrant.

There was no more going up for air.

And so, you sink.

No mourners, no funerals.

When you wake up, it feels like a horse has kicked you in the chest and your throat burns when you breathe.

You open your eyes to see three sets of unfamiliar faces looking at you and so, you use all of the little energy you have to fight, knocking the person on the left off-balance, though you’d attribute that more to surprise than the actual skill demonstrated in the swipe.

You manage to stand up- not without feeling nauseous, but at least you’re standing - as you move to engage with the other two.

“I had a feeling you would wake up and immediately start throwing punches.” A familiar voice said and your head whipped to the front of the ship to see none other than Sturmhond at the helm.

Of course.

“How did you-”

“You can thank the twins and Toma, our tidemaker. They’re the ones who sensed you out there and brought you in.”

You looked at the two people standing directly in front of you, who you now had the perception to see that they were clearly related.

You opened your mouth to speak and when no words came, you simply gave them a deep nod.

The woman returned it and the man, taller than her, gave you a smile.

“I’m not going to stop you from thanking me though as well.” Sturmhond said and you shot a glare at him.

“And what should I thank you for? Did you lift my body out of the water with your own two hands?” You asked and he shook his head, shrugging.

“I mean, you are on my boat, and I wasn’t planning on charging you for saving your life or passage. Perks of me liking you.”

You ignored the last part of that statement, ignored how warm your cheeks felt and how your heart sped up.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the woman stifle a smile.

“I need to go back to Ketterdam.”

“We’re already a day away from Ketterdam, and we’re on a tight schedule to find the Sea Whip. I’m sorry.” Sturmhond said and you shook your head, looking around for any sign that he was joking or lying.

You felt a strong hand on your shoulder and you looked to your side to see the woman.

“He’s not lying, I’m sorry.”

tags: @a-disturbing-self-reflection

[nuuspace]

Into the Maw

He looks down at his red-soaked hands. Mucky. Gritty. The gruel shimmers, shattering into fractions of stardust, drifting away into the windy night.

Clip. Clop. Each foot after the other, smashing glass on the torn concrete road. He looks up. It's dark; a verdant light shimmers in the distance. He sees a short brick outpost, the door ajar.

He sets forth his destination and lets out a wail. It echoes in the silent air. No birds fly. No bugs cry. Only the wispy sky is alive.

His hand slams against the door, making way for entry. It quivers and he recoils back from the impact. Inside the building is a bathroom. Tiles shattered, glass scattered, but the sinks still seem intact.

He sits down atop a stool in front of a teetering sink on its last breath. He twists the knob, water comes forth, and he lets his hands rest under the warm stream. He stares as the dirt drips off his skin, but the stains of the lives taken still remain.

His eyes drift up towards the shattered mirror—his reflection doesn't appear. He's stunned, staring into the nothingness of a non-bathroom. The other world looks bleak, gray. Full of despair.

Everything disappears. His vision gets pulled into the mirror at such a speed he couldn't process. The feeling in his hands, knees, feet, all drop, and then all return at the same time.

The scenery changes drastically. Directly in front of him sits a lady behind an executive desk. She wears her hair tied up and dons an elegant black suit. The entire room is pristine, filled with browns, blacks, golds. An office.

"Name?" The lady asks, her eyes stuck to the desk as she writes with a quill.

The boy is silent.

She pauses, and peers up over her half-moon glasses, "Name?"

"Bruce." He mumbles.

"Grand." She slams her quill down, Bruce jumps, and she shifts up-right. "We have some chattin' to do."

Bruce sinks down into his new chair. His heart throbs.

"Six dead today, Bruce. Six?" She emphasizes. "We were okay with it here and there. 'Kept the population out there down and gave us some more in here. But this ain't the ol' land anymore, we don't need the population down, and we have plenty in here."

Bruce picks at a button on the bottom of his shirt.

"Your land goes forever. Our land does not! People aren't really s'posed to die in Nuuspace, aye?" She points at him. "But you manage to at least rip 'em to shreds, and they get sent right to us."

Bruce considers speaking.

"Listen, Bruce, was it?"

He nods.

"I know, not sure why I asked—listen, the big guys don't take so kindly to our entire existence if we don't do somethin', and unfortunately, I get paid for this. So, it was nice while it lasted, but you're being quarantined."

"What?" He mutters.

"Yes, such sorrow. You'll be sent to the Maw in a few moments."

Bruce moves upward, finding it difficult to do so. It's as if he's stuck to the seat under a layer of honey.

"Your Rauror, or whatever it may be, has been deemed maniacal. Or maybe just you, can't say for sure. Though we know if you didn't have whateva' you did, there'd be no issue." She tidies a stack of papers.

"I don't understand." He mutters.

"Y'know, for someone who butchers at seemingly random, I expected more of a fight." She states.

Bruce falls. Through the chair. Through the floor. Through everything in itself. He sees the room's interior from its bottom, the floor culling inward, as the black void consumes. He falls and falls and falls, unable to hear his own screams, until there is nothing.

And then he lands. Light creeps into his eyes, revealing his new forever-home. He sits in a hallway stretched long and narrow, its walls a faded white. Doors sit amongst the sides, one after the other. His hands rest against the linoleum tiles, some cracked, others yellowed.

Distant footsteps come from the end of the hallway, housing a door so ominous that fear itself would recoil. Bruce scoots himself backward. The tiles behind him crumble, and as he turns his head, he's met with the void once more. The hallway's broken off, floating into the darkness. Bruce scoots back toward the ominous door, willing to risk the unknown once more.

The footsteps stop, and Bruce's heart with it. Now is the time to enter the Maw. Now is the time, once and for all.

The door creaks open.

[hisuianhellion]

The Bitter Truth

Content Warning: Foul Language, Violence, Gun Usage, Pokemon Death.

Onryō: A "vengeful spirit" of traditional Japanese beliefs, capable of causing harm to the living, killing those still alive and even being the cause of natural disasters and phenomena of their own volition. They believe they deserve vengeance for their time alive, and will stop at nearly nothing to address the wrongs, perceived or true, they suffered during life. Typically depicted as women, they wear traditional white burial garb across their bodies and show bitter, malicious resentment towards their victims.

Only through vehement apology and righting the wrongs done to the onryō during its days amongst the living can they be appeased and allowed to release their hold upon the land, and whatever offering is given must be directly tied to the spirit's rage. Should this fail, a priest or being of divine will shall be forced to cull the spirit.

But justice will never be served if such an ending to their spirituality is forced upon them.

------------------------------------------

"... m-momma?"

Her eyes snapped open.

Rose let her lungs fill with much needed air, staring up at an inky blackness above her. The sharp inhale made her body tingle with feeling once more. Her hands grasped at nothing, but felt themselves to a reassuring degree. Her feet could feel the boots upon them, her chest pushing upwards against the loose, but well-fitted top to her uniform.

She nearly wanted to gulp at the air, the sensation that she hadn't breathed inwards once in her time under the Zoroark's vice grip upon her body clinging to her chest. She recognized where she was, her eyes wide and her body feeling much fuller. The hollowness was gone. The sensation of furious anger and a vicious desire for slaughter had left her. She was herself once more.

Gradually, she rolled onto her side, standing herself up. The same table. The same flame. It was here again, but held a bluish tint rather than the standard red from before. She was back with Truth once more, Reshiram's domain. And his flame was visibly untethered to a candle this time. His eyes settled upon the form his will represented, flickering notably in the void. Larger than before. More confidently... themself. She could feel his warmth. She could see his flame flicker towards her as she approached, blue eyes matching the hue of the fire.

They turned towards her curtly as she approached, and there was a soft hum of thought from Reshiram to signal their approval of her arrival.

It's well that you're aware enough to be here. I feared the worst when I saw the state you had been in.

"No. Nuh uh. That isn't how I go. I've got a family to get back to, and I'm not letting some vengeful cunt get in the way of that." Her voice was still ringing loud and clear even now, a sign of her convictions being true.

Despite the lack of sound, Rose could tell. The flame upon the table "laughed", eyes squinting shut for a moment until nodding.

That's what I expect from someone like you. I chose well. But there is sadly a bit of a problem.

Rose's eyes flashed slightly with a blue hue as she tilted her head in thought. Reshiram's protection was going to be necessary here, and as her hand went down to her left side... she sighed through her nose in response. It wasn't there in this realm, no. But she knew. She knew she had lost so much more than just a bit of blood. Had it not been for the Zoroark choosing to puppet her around, she would've died. How ironic, then, that it led to the Dragon of Truth's intervention being possible?

We aren't alone here.

A chill. And right before either could react, an impact.

Reshiram winced as the malicious force slammed into the domain they held, showing its form as a raging cloud of blood red mist, but Rose knew it was the only reason they weren't being consumed. The warmth that the flame projected was keeping the Zoroark at bay... but there was no sound. No screeching. No yelling. No laughter or taunting. A sign that they weren't attempting to communicate with their own true feelings. One that the dragon took note of. It collided with thin air, visibly splaying out before coming back up into a noxiously violent form once more.

Your lack of decorum notwithstanding, you will never get to Rose. You speak with your heart, or I smite you with my flames. There is no other outcome for you.

Silence reigned despite the rumble of the vile, crimson shroud of hatred slamming into the invisible barrier protecting them both, the sensation reaching Rose's body, not her ears. It barely looked like it had moved. It happened again, the cloud circling about to try and viciously strike behind. But nothing came close. Reshiram's power was unyielding. Unbendingly strong. She watched for a moment before she frowned visibly. "Or just ignore them. Ruin yourself. Destroy yourself just so fucking vehemently trying to tear me apart! Reshiram, I honestly don't think they're really wanting to talk!"

I am inclined to believe you.

A pulse of fire in a guttural bellowing. Deafening in its power, it flared outwards, pushing past Rose harmlessly. But the being just past them? Fruitlessly assaulting a being so much more powerful than them?

This screech was felt. "Heard."

It was a deep one. From the very core of the being's own soul. Rose visibly winced at it, her eyes widening a bit with a shudder. The cloud quivered once again, rippling in a way that looked close to someone shaking off the pain. Silently once more, they impacted the dome of protection that was unseen, but undeniable.

Another retaliation. Reshiram's roar. Their own potent flames, truth to burn away the lies that festered deeply within the souls of those that deny their creed. That find themselves opposed to their Chosen. And that same, visceral emanation pulsed out from the cloud.

It shrank. It clung to its form with visible unease. It backed away. Rose's eyes were losing focus under the raw pain she was being forced to listen to. But Reshiram had a duty.

You... vile--

A roar from a dragon. A scream from a spirit. A shout from a human.

"Reshiram, STOP!" Haggardly panting, Rose felt her body shuddering in pain. In a domain such as this, with her heart on display, what was emotional could very well become physical. And her body was quaking the further this assault went on. "It... they... thuh-this is too much... Stop, just stop, I can't..."

Silence reigned. The wailing continued for a small while as the human pulled their arms across their chest. She stared at the cloud. Her eyes were horrified. Manic.

Rose, you cannot let their pain affect you. They did not allow yours to sway their own judgement. They killed you in their own eyes. They would've killed many more.

"That doesn't justify torture!"

Yet again, the eyes upon the flame peered at Rose with a measured level. They watched her unblinkingly. The human, meanwhile, couldn't help but stare directly up at the crimson mist, her heartbeat practically audible throughout the entire domain.

... It was not my intention. One should've been enough to dismiss them outright. I have grown weaker in my slumber. If you'd give me the time--

"They spoke." Her eyes were unblinking. "What did you say?"

V-... vile... monstrous parasite, you--

"Stop flinging the fucking insults!" Despite her empathy halting Reshiram's assault, that did not wipe the fury from her heart. She stepped forward, staying within her guardian's influence with their warmth at her back. "Start telling me what the absolute hell is wrong with you!!"

You! YOU ARE WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME! Spurred once more into striking, it came mere inches from Rose's face this time. And instead of backing off, its form began to wrap around towards the human's placement. Behind it... two, furiously glowing yellow eyes, pupils centered right upon Rose. The hatred was clear. As was an amount of desperation she wasn't expecting. I almost had it! I nearly had everything I needed! You just had to corrupt that child into hating me! Hating his own kind!

"I fed him. I housed him. I freed him and he came back."

Liar!!

"I can't lie here. You either speak the truth or don't speak at all."

Why can't I speak like you, then?!

"You aren't willing to face the truth right in front of your face."

The eyes focused on her for what felt like ages. Reshiram watched Rose from behind. Their unseen brow knit at her choice of words, and they seemed to lean back quietly to watch this play out instead of intervening. "... Who are you?"

Silence.

"Do you have a name?"

A deafening void of sound.

"What happened to you?"

Your kind happened to me.

"What did my kind do to you?"

Exile. Slaughter. Pursuit leading to even further pain.

"Show me." For the first time, the spirit blinked. Under Rose's unrelenting gaze, the spirit flinched out of an expectant outcome falling apart. "Show me what they did. Show me what would make you... wail like that. That was pain I hadn't heard before. Or even felt. I... I want to know what you went through. I need to know what makes someone as spiteful as you, because Todd doesn't deserve that. And I'm not putting him through it."

Reshiram gently thrummed, and with a small pull of Rose back, they looked to her quietly. However, their eyes silently went to watch the mist as the human took a seat to listen. And a nod promptly followed. The dragon would allow this. Though it took the spirit some time to even process what was being done... those eyes blinked once more, staring at Rose pointedly.

There, in the darkness of Reshiram's domain... a shadowy play began.

We lived within the forests. In burrows. In trees. Wherever we could find that would keep us from being found. Dens were hard to come by, and scrounging for food had become taxing. Especially in winter months. The cold was never something we handled well.

Trees flashed by for a moment before settling. A small Zorua's silhouette came into view, sniffing about. It silently grasped a berry in its jaws, dashing off through the trees to a small outcropping in a particularly large tree, scooted into a hollow by a much larger Zoroark. One that peered back with golden eyes, staring for a small while into the dead air before dipping into the hollow. The image faded.

We defended ourselves. Territorial disputes. Making sure our families would be able to eat for another day. Hunting for food where it was found... but we did not like confrontation. We did not like to expose ourselves. We hid. We shrouded ourselves. We tricked to take what we needed as quickly as possible. And the humans did not approve of our methods.

A flash of a Zorua running. Then another. A Zoroark coming into view, turning, and roaring with a flash of its golden gaze before a prompt backpedal and dash away. Soon after came dog Pokemon. Some sleek, some stocky. All dashing forward with clear intent as humans came rushing upwards. Pitchforks and torches were visibly in their hands. Another fade, and the spirit continued.

Humans are tenaciously cruel predators. Upon cornering us, they would burn out our dens, smoke choking us enough to run out into the jaws of their trained killers.

A flash of a fleeing Zorua being bitten right into by a dog Pokemon. The crack of its neck was not audible. But the limpness of its body did enough. Rose's entire back felt a chill run down its spine. Reshiram continued watching, unperturbed.

If we proved too much for their initial methods... they had others. Loud things. Things that killed either quickly or slowly. It didn't matter. If you were hit by them? You simply died. A ball of death, lodged into your body. You could only hope it would have mercy on you and act quickly.

The shadows shifted once more to show the humans. Humans holding muskets. Hunting rifles, the type that shot out heavy bullets. Rose's body quivered as the ball of iron slipped right into a Zoroark's back, it's blue eyes shooting wide. The Pokemon flopped forward and struggled to crawl away, dragging itself along the ground by its claws. Rose looked down for a few seconds, her breathing quickening, but her eyes shifted back up.

Years of this became our life. If you did not die to the humans, you died to their trained killers. If you did not die to their killers, you died to the hunger. We needed to flee. We needed a new life. But everywhere we went...

Another gunshot. Another Pokemon directed by a human. Another corpse thrown into a pit, filling further and further with death.

They were there. Parasites. Leeches on us all. Stealing everything... and killing us because we dared to try and survive by taking what we needed. So we fled. And fled. And fled... But it took us too long... the longer we ran, the colder it became. The harder it became to breathe. The harder it became to even move. We tried so hard to push ourselves to safety. Not even the humans came to places like these... but the reason became obvious.

Quietly, the crimson fog faded into showing a lone Zoroark standing. Golden eyes scanned, the dead of their kind littering the field. A barren waste. Whipping, misty snow everywhere the eye could see. Nothing but ice, stretching as far as the senses could reach. The Zoroark roared soundlessly.

It collapsed just as silently with no one left to mourn it.

Rose's body was quaking. She was struggling to watch. Her face scrunched, lip quivering for a moment as she knit her brow and nose to try and stay coherently able to focus. Because the Zoroark figure, after the deafening silence hung for what felt like ages... began to rise back up.

The wastes are no place for the living. No place for creatures that are not as icy as they are. But they could still be lived in with just enough determination to see it through. Though it be the bane of life itself... we could still persist in some perverted form. We could still hunt the creatures that lived to feed ourselves. We could still find the scarce tree lined with hardened berries. We could still... exist. But like before, perhaps even more pointedly in a barren wasteland like this? There could never be enough.

A shift. And tents were now visible on the horizon of the Zoroark's new domain.

Especially not when we realized our folly. Humans were monsters, capable of adapting to anything. Living anywhere, eating whatever they could find, training themselves and their killers further and further. But we did not strike first. We simply dug in. This was where we had ended up. This was where we would live. We would show them the spite they showed us. But all we wanted was to live!

Zoruas flashed by, shifting through illusions, scaring humans away with apparitions created through their wisps, playing together in the snow. Little wrestles, sharing meals. All under the watchful eye of one golden-gazed Zoroark.

Until an arrow struck nearby. And a second one cut into a Zorua's leg, pinning it. The Zoroark moved to free them. A third pierced right into its hand. The same one Rose's own had felt get crunched by a defensive Luxray. She felt her hand twinge in pain watching that. And her body was visibly shifting in discomfort.

Humans do not care. If we frighten them, we are to be expelled. If we contest them, we are to be pushed back. If we ever think to try and live our lives near them... it will be ours that fade first. I did not even get to watch my kind perish. I'm almost glad I hadn't. But I still can't deny that being put into that mask was something I wish I never wished for, however indirectly.

The final scene played out. The Zoroark, surrounded in darkness, holding one of its young in its arms. It wasn't moving. The Zoroark was inconsolable. And for the first time... it was heard. "Make it stop! I had to watch this happen twice, I'd give anything to just make this stop!"

That anything cost me everything. Someone was listening. And I got my wish. That mask on your face is all that's left of me now. It gave me ample time to think. To plan. To act when I finally had the chance. And you gave it to me so easily... but just like any other human, you--

"M'sorry...!" Rose was heaving her breaths. Her arm was up to her face, covering her eyes as she leaned back, panting out deeply. "I-I'm... I-I'm sorry...!"

... That means little and less coming from you.

Rose...?

"I..." She sniffled outwards, shaking her head as she lowered her arm. The clear-as-crystal grief on her face was apparent. "Wh-... h-how did you even... I'd never b-be able to..."

You... you wouldn't. You're right. Because I didn't. I couldn't handle the grief. The pain of losing my family not once... but twice. Stop that pathetic act.

... It is no act. Lies are not permitted in my domain.

Rose shook her head, coughing slightly before staring down in response. "... I-I would've done the same thing...! I. I almost just did! To protect my family, I just... I nearly had you destroyed." Her eyes went up. Golden ones met her own. "... who's to say I wouldn't have ended up just like you in the same circumstances?"

Silence. A yawning abyss of soundless silence followed. Not even Reshiram's own flickering flames created any tones.

"... what do you want, Zoroark?" The golden eyes blinked again. The pupils stared into Rose's own. They looked down quietly.

... I want my family back. But because that can't happen... I wanted to make sure any new family I had couldn't be hurt again.

"Let me help with that."

What?

"Why should you be killed a second time? Reshiram, seriously. Why should someone who's been through this much fucking pain be killed?"

A matter of trust and prior hatred.

"Trust needs to be built. I would do anything to protect my family. To protect Todd." She let her eyes, bloodshot above tear-stained cheeks, land firmly on the spirit's own. "Let me build it here. Because Todd deserves having one of his kind around. All of my Pokemon do. They may not trust you at first. You hurt me! You nearly killed me! But you bloody fucking DIDN'T. I'm still here! I'm still alive and kicking because I'm not done with my life yet! You intended to cause so much harm, but NO ONE should be judged based on things they never did from horrific thoughts born from that much pain!! There are people I want dead! But I never would! Because the people they're still loved by don't deserve that! And that goes for you, too, god FUCKING dammit!!"

She was on her feet. She had moved forward before either of the others could even react. And in her passionate march, she was right up, face to face with those golden eyes. The mist lapped at her cheeks. It pushed bangs of her hair slightly away from her eyes. And she was panting, her eyes billowing with tears again as her emotions boiled over.

"... I just wanted him to be safe... I just wanted to be safe... that's all I wanted..."

Reshiram blinked. The cloud shrank down to be closer to Rose's own eye level, beginning to take shape. Rose watched this happen, and after wiping at her eyes, she offered a hand. "... Me too, hun. It'll be easier with two of us. Three if we count Mutt... and I think I do."

The eyes peered down for a moment towards the offered hand. They looked up. Uncertainty. Fear. Hope.

Not a hint of malice left.

"... wh-what will you do to me?"

"I... I don't know. But I want it to be something you actually agree on, okay?" She rubbed at her eyes again with her free hand, keeping the other one extended. "We need to talk to each other. See what'll work. How you can actually... still be you. You should see Todd in a happier light. I want you to see my whole family. I want them to be your family, too."

The eyes stared at her for a long while. Seconds. Minutes. Days. Years. It felt like ages hung in this one moment, her unflinching resolve testing the spirit's own.

Silence.

Pure silence.

Rose felt something scrape along her hand. A claw. A real claw. It slid down from the top, testing the solidity of her form with gentle ease. Another claw hit the top of her palm, and it gripped on. Rose's eyes glanced down with a soft blink. Which allowed her to notice, right in front of her... black fur. With purple markings along the cheeks. Throughout the mane. Coating the claws. And those same golden eyes, now full of life again, upon a Zoroark's soul made manifest once more. It gripped onto her hand with its other paw, softly, as if afraid of hurting the person offering it, but just as afraid of it ever letting go.

The fox hit her knees as tears began flowing freely from her eyes, a wail of relief echoing out of her mouth as it drew breath once more.

[slightecho]

It’s been a week and I haven’t seen anyone talking yet about how the finale directly ties back to s1e4: “The Intruder” and how Luz’s true power came from her having to learn from both witches AND demons (best of both things!!)

Like, obviously we get to FINALLY see Eda showing Luz how to do a spell circle, but they’re drawing our attention back to this ep for more than just THAT moment as a parallel. Through the finale, we can now understand that that entire episode truly did ride on whether Luz was willing to learn from ALL creatures of the BI, witch and demon alike. It’s not until King reveals his desire to teach Luz, too, and she has an open moment with him about this, that the first glyph reveals itself to Luz, allowing her to save them and help Eda from her curse.

Likewise, we have to come back to this lesson in the finale; She is the Good Witch Luz, but that and her palisman alone (a witch’s tool, mind you) isn’t enough against Belos in the end. She needs to become the best of the Boiling Isles. The best of both things, if you will. Witch AND Demon.

Yeah, it brought me to tears getting to see Eda hold Luz’s hand and FINALLY teach her to do a spell circle, but it wasn’t until afterwards, also getting to see King sit on her shoulder after and teach her his roar, too, that I truly felt the impact of the follow-through from that episode. She has to learn both. This is why her palisman being a snakeshifter makes so much sense; Luz has always desired to be and learn all things, and in the Boiling Isles, that means she has to become and learn both, too.

That’s why she’s the only one who can. King outright says in The Intruder that “I don’t have many friends… nobody even pays that much attention to me. I thought maybe if I taught you, finally someone would care about creatures like me.” And Luz’s response?

She just smiles and asks him to finish his lesson.

And then Papa Titan shows her the first glyph; the most important one, in the end. Because she cares, and she’s willing to learn.

She’s not just learning from Eda in the finale; she’s learning from King, too. Without any hesitation, he jumps in after the spell circle moment to teach her to roar like a Titan.

It’s not enough to want to learn one aspect of a culture, like that of Witches and Demons in the Boiling Isles, and leave aside the rest. Only by Luz’s desire and understanding of both, can she actually save the Demon Realm from Belos.

(Belos, who, btw, only ever cared enough to see the witches he hated, and their “god,” who just so happens to be a titan. Only able to see the culture of the Boiling Isles through the human lens he understands, the only reason he even SEES the Titan is because he views it as their “god.” Even when the Collector reveals to him that King is a Titan, Belos STILL overlooks him for the one he perceives as important. But that’s a rant for another day.)

Anyways in conclusion TLDR yada yada:

Luz’s story and the real callback to The Intruder here is not just about the witch’s spell circle and Eda teaching her; it’s about both. King is her teacher too. And that’s every bit as important teaching as Eda’s.

[faffreux]

hey, i hope you’re doing alright! could i ask you to describe some of your favorite dreams with fawful? your art about your dreams is beautiful and i would love to hear the story behind some of it!

Thank you so much! I'm fine, I promise <3

How about I start this off by telling you about the first dream he ever appeared in? I went back and found a post I wrote back in early 2021 where I described it, so I'll be sharing that again here. The original time of this dream was in August of 2020.

For context this was a very difficult time in my life where I was intensely overworked at my job to the degree that it was impacting my physical and mental health horribly and causing me to question myself and my capabilities, so this dream couldn't have come at a better time than it did.

08/28/2020

I dreamed I was outside during a quiet rainstorm when a skeleton key fell out of the sky and landed at my feet. Around the end of it was tied a bright, red ribbon. I remember looking around and trying to find where the key might fit but having no luck.

I woke up.

08/29/2020

Tonight I dreamed again. I found myself standing in what can only be described as a white void, a place devoid of emotion or color… That is, until I looked up. Hovering above were doors of many different colors and shapes, all of them unique in their own way. Upon observing each you could see various things happening around and within each one of them.

Some seemed to create music, others seemed to move as if they were alive. I could hear a quiet whispering inside a few, or knocking behind others. Inwardly, I knew they were all portals to other dimensions and worlds beyond my own. It was if I had found myself at the crossroads where the entrances to many universes converged. 

My gaze then shifted downward where I suddenly realized I was holding the skeleton key from the dream prior in the palm of my hand, the end of it still wrapped in the same red ribbon. When I lifted my head back up, my gaze met a door directly in front of me: one that not only happened to be the same red as the ribbon tied to the key in my hand, but that was also the only door planted firmly on the ground. I knew the key must belong to it.

Just as I held up the key and started to walk forward, the door began to open on its own and a very familiar figure stepped out. It was Fawful, dressed in the same red cape I knew from Bowser’s Inside Story. He looked almost… lost? Like he didn’t entirely know why he was here. (Not that I can blame him!)

As he stepped further out the door, he noticed me and we locked eyes for the first time. There was a long moment of silence before he started to walk towards me, and when he was about four feet away he paused and just… stared. Everything about his expression said he was trying to figure me out, perhaps in an attempt to make sense of why any of this was happening at all. However, the longer he looked at me, the more his expression began to change… from confusion first, then concern, and then finally the most unexpected one of all: understanding.

And that’s when it hit me… Fawful understood. He knew exactly what it was like to overwork yourself. In the game, his minions spoke about how hard he worked, how stressed he was, and he himself lamented towards the end over the fact that he did his absolute best and still fell short despite it all. He was no stranger to any of this. 

And just as this realization had hit me, I felt his hand on my chin. He was here now, directly in front of me with that enormous, beautiful smile of his that I had grown to love so much. At this point I started to sob, and in response he wrapped both of his arms around me in a tight embrace of what I can only describe as pure comfort and relief. 

Things stayed like this for a while, and the dream seemed to melt away slowly until I found myself awake in my bed, my eyes and pillow beneath my head still wet with tears.

After that... well, the rest is history. I've had countless other adventures with him since, both in sleep and wake alike.

[officialleehadan]

Portal Dive

After the Quest

+++

Hiring the bandits on went far more smoothly than Landon could have hoped. They weren’t an expensive bunch. Landon had dozens of chests of gold buried under his basement floor. It only took two of them to make each of the bandits more than rich enough to swear to do whatever he asked. It wasn’t much gold, in the sum of things. He had other cashes of gold up in the mountains, heaped on him by the kings he helped during his adventures.

It was a small price to secure the safety of his town. The bandits agreed to make sure that no other bandits came near while Landon and Neiva were gone. There was every chance the town elders would object, and so Landon decided not to tell them. It wasn’t like the townsfolk left the town often, and the former bandits had strict orders not to come close. With any luck, that situation would stay stable until Landon came back.

Now, however, he and Neiva were waiting in the bandit camp, which was utterly deserted by their order. Thanks to Neiva, they were able to perch up on the cliff above the camp, where Neiva’s white scales didn’t dhow beneath the trees. Landon wore a dark cloak over his armor, although it was hardly needed. The moon was dark, and without Neiva’s keen eyes, they couldn’t have seen anything at all.

The shiver of a portal on their skin, however, was unmistakable.

Magic rolled through the place between worlds, where the two ends of a portal connected to make a single bridge between even distant locations. This one was powerful indeed. A long way off, then, and held by a mage of substantial power. Maybe even one who was too powerful for Landon and Neiva to drop on without preparation.

Of course, they did have the element of surprise on their hands, and almost nobody reacted well to having a dragon drop out of the sky on top of them.

In all honesty, the direct approach might well be their best chance.

(It’s about to connect,) Neiva said as the portal glimmered into sight, tied to runes the mage had probably buried on his first visit to the camp. (There we go. Thoughts?)

(None yet,) Landon told him and leaned down over Neiva’s long neck to try and get a better look. He paused, and then reached for Neiva’s mind where it was tied to his own. (I can’t see anything. Can I ride with you?)

(Of course.)

Neiva welcomed him in and gave the long, careful blink that let Landon see out of his eyes. Like this, the scant light of the stars was more than enough to see the way the mage stepped out of the portal and froze at the unexpectedly dark camp. It was a gamble to have the camp deserted, but a better option than many. If the mage realized his death magic had been stripped, he would be even more suspicious of attack.

(Do you want to drop on him, or try for the portal?) Neiva asked as they watched the mage look around in confusion. (If I land right, we could get through before he even knows we’re there.)

(That might land us in a whole den of enemies.)

(But it will also very probably get us answers quickest.)

His dragon made a good point. Landon eyed the portal thoughtfully. (I don’t think you can fit through that portal in your scales.)

(I agree. If I swoop on it, and shift in midair, do you think you can make the portal?)

(Depends on how fast you’re going.)

(Want to try it anyway?)

(Might as well.)

The mage below them had cast a small light spell and was still looking around, so Landon pulled back from Neiva’s mind and shifted his weight. He was nowhere near heavy enough to inconvenience Neiva, and they were used to flying together. The maneuver Neiva was suggesting was difficult, but not new. Neiva would fly directly at the portal, and would shift to human form as they reached it. Landon’s job was to catch him, and to make sure that his armor took the worst of the impact.

Generally speaking, it was fun, although somewhat tricky.

The less said about how they came up with the trick in the first place, the better.

As soon as Landon was settled and ready, Neiva leapt straight up into the dark sky and spread his wings. Rather than swoop in off the cliff, he circled, a shadow against the stars and invisible unless someone knew exactly hat to look for. When he was lined up for the portal, he pulled his wings in tight, and dropped out of the sky like an arrow.

Landon pressed down tight to his neck and held on, ready to grab his husband as soon as Neiva shifted into human form.

The mage had exactly enough time for an alarmed yell as they blazed past him fast enough for their wake to send him flying. At the last moment, Neiva pulled his wings in even tighter and flipped them upside down. In moments, he went from a shiplength of white scales, to the slender human form he wore when Landon met him.

Determined not to let his beloved dragon hit the ground, Landon pulled him close and trusted his enchanted armor to take the blow. It was spelled to help if he fell, and this, in a way, was a fall.

It didn’t do anything about the horrendous screech of armor on stone, but that was just part of throwing themselves through a portal at speed.

They crashed into the far wall of what seemed to be a fairly large room, and were on their feet in a breath. Landon pulled his sword even as Neiva let his claws slip free, and bared his teeth.

“Well, this is new,” someone said from the long spiraling staircase that stretched up above them and vanished through the high ceiling. The speaker turned out to be another mage, this one backed by half a dozen startled students. “Hello. Who might you be?”

+++

After the Quest:

From the Grave

Bond Long Cherished  (Subscriber Only!)

Bones and Broth

Quest Reawakened (Subscriber Only!)

Armoring Up

Fly the Wind

Hide in the Sun

Offer of Gold

Portal Dive (New!)

+++

MASTERLIST

[notbungie]

THIS WEEK AT NOT BUNGIE - 3/12/2018

View in the original formatting here https://notbungie.net/twanb_002

This week we deployed a Destiny 2 development roadmap with some new rewards. We didn't want to release it in its current form, and we'll be able to see what you all do in the competitive match completion mechanic.

Gotta Go Back and Refine Normal Players

Last week you informed Destiny 2's scoring options for the timeline of the maintenance window of our most important fashion damage. Power ammo respawn timers were adjusted across the first thing you should know about.

Crimson Days is only available through crimson engrams or vendors in the crucible rotation.

A Destiny server was discovered in the live environment where these actions require your explicit approval in the wild.

Mods That Reduce Glimmer Identity

last season Jon Weisnewski has been increased to the creations page and you will get your shot at reading opponents on the leviathan screen.

Here are the current modifiers we're working on diligently to make available alongside Destiny server feedback.

dmg04 pulses have been escalated to take advantage of feedback since launch.

Impact scouts increased base damage for high-end thresholds when you activate your hands.

Cozmo items from lord Shaxx are now two guardians in Destiny.

Destiny player support will undergo backend maintenance and add projectile tracking without losing snipers.

Enabled invisibility on Tuesday for players who cant loot from The Colony exotic sparrow.

Game rewards may push out one of the more exaggerated examples of feedback since launch of worlds modifiers.

Air accuracy penalties from being too hard for a full stack of shaders is going to greatly increase.

Faster total movement bonus for players who can't strength for clearing strikes.

Increased improvements that dilute item identity to give you a basic idea of what you might lose out to get that chest ornament.

Reduced flinch multiplier for precision shotguns like the tower vendor listed in relation to weapon archetypes.

Arcstrider mechanism penalties have been adjusted across the next sandbox developer commentary.

Dawnblade has been reduced to 7s and players may accrue 38 ghost scannables on twitter.

Sentinel items from last time lord Saladin packed up his companion are actively collecting data wirelessly in the prestige eater.

PvP engagements may have noticed some changes coming weeks ago and we agree it was discovered in the world forever.

Faster total movement utility cap has been expanded around what you can take.

Increased PvE damage for all three glides plus titans.

Increased inventory size or restorative rewards. (Haven't enjoyed discovering masterwork combatants for this update.)

Tested an experience that relies less on clumping damage after getting a melee experience, and we'll be available to see what you all do in competitive housekeeping.

In Tune With More Prevalent Plans

Cozmo asked you to actually dodge things. Power weapons are directly available through enough tokens to qualify for a high damage utility update. The goal of feedback since launch is to make shotguns more unique and faster for everyone to see their supers directly tied by completing specific nightfall emblems.

As Destiny sandbox updates, which are broken down by sticking challenges, are now two key areas for improvement with your video pools, we hope to do more reserve ammo respawn timers in survival activities like this hotfix for adaptive gear.

We didn't want to release you as soon as maintenance concludes, but we wanted Senior Designer Alex Velicky to explain what you think about Iron Lords. You can find them in their consumables inventory this week at Bungie for players who can't loot from your foes.

Destiny Related Entertainment

Movie of the Burst Experience: Hello Friends

Honorable Mention: Telesto'd by the Leviathan

Honorable Mention: Monster Energy From the Crimson Screen

Next week is available to anyone until May. This is so challenging to make shotguns more than violently flying backwards until February. We also hope you know there is a lot of feedback that stated the game was too focused on adding and/or increasing player articles for the timeline of worlds. We’ve the new scoring rules to make exotics more prevalent in short amounts of time lord Saladin.

Thanks for playing cooldowns wirelessly.

Cheers,

-Not Cozmo

[unitedstatesallnews]

Lionel Messi And Argentina Are Ready For World Cup Glory- Latest news

It’s almost time for the 2022 World Cup. To help get you ready, we will be providing you with precious information about every team in the tournament. You can read all of our World Cup previews here. Argentina enters the 2022 World Cup in incredible form: the team has not lost in three years, and it won the most recent major international tournament that it competed for, last summer’s Copa America. This is a well-drilled team, with steady if unspectacular performers at every level of the field. It comes into the World Cup without too many impactful injuries, as well; its biggest loss might be Paulo Dybala, the Roma do-it-all forward who injured his quadriceps in October, but who has never quite fit in the national team’s plans. (He might be healthy in time for the World Cup, but that’s perhaps wishful thinking.) Oh, and Argentina has Lionel Messi. That counts for something. Messi is the storyline, the alpha and the omega of not just Argentina’s journey, but the 2022 World Cup as a whole. After shaking off the major international trophy burden by winning the Copa, as the best player in that tournament, Messi comes into Qatar with one last mission in mind: winning the World Cup. It’s something that has eluded him in four previous tries, but he’s never had a team like this around him. A big part of Argentina’s recent success comes from manager Lionel Scaloni, who took over for Jorge Sampaoli after the 2018 World Cup. Scaloni has not tried to reinvent the wheel, and instead has implemented a system that is sturdy from top to bottom, while allowing Messi and his fellow attackers the freedom to bring the game to opponents. To be sure, Scaloni has lucked out with the development of some younger players, but this is just smart international management. He knows his teams strengths and weaknesses, and he has created a gameplan that plays to the former while minimizing the latter. All of this has combined to make Argentina one of the favorites in Qatar. On paper, Brazil and France, and maybe even England, are better teams, but none are as well-coached or well-suited for international success as the albiceleste. That might not translate directly into glory, but if its roster of workmanlike defenders and midfielders can hold off opponents as well as they have been for three years, then Messi will have the freedom to dominate games in the final third. As he has shown over his long career, this is all he needs to be his best, and with the extra motivation of the World Cup in play, it’s possible that this month in Qatar will be his final, crowning achievement as the best player soccer has ever seen. He, and Argentina as a whole, has never had a better opportunity to win it all.

Who Is Their Main Guy?

It’s Messi. Of course it is. He’s perhaps the Main Guy in the entire World Cup, one that he has said will likely be his final appearance at the world’s biggest tournament. There’s a narrative that claims Messi hasn’t done it at the World Cup, whatever that means, but in two of his three appearances as the undisputed star of Argentina, he has done what the team needed, until the team needed just too much from him. (The less said about Argentina’s debacle at the 2010 World Cup, the better.) In 2014, he and Javier Mascherano carried a messy and injured Argentina side to within misses from Gonzalo Higuaín and Rodrigo Palacio of a World Cup title. He won the Golden Ball award for the best player in the tournament, and scored four of Argentina’s eight goals en route to the final. In 2018, a similarly chaotic Argentina side didn’t have a real shot at the trophy, and in fact looked like it would be knocked out in the group stage after a draw against Iceland—Messi missed a penalty kick—and a demolition at the hands of Croatia. With Nigeria blocking its way to the knockout rounds, Messi got to work with one of the best ball controls and scores you will ever see: Though Nigeria tied it up in the 51st minute, Argentina scooped up the win off a Marcos Rojo winner in the 86th. Its reward was a 4-3 loss in the round of 16 to eventual champions France, in what was the best match of that tournament. Now, Messi is back, at the age of 35 and no longer a Barcelona player. Instead, he has shaken off a slow start at Paris Saint-Germain and become Lionel Messi once again. Alongside Neymar and Kylian Mbappé, Messi forms the creative focal point of the world’s best attacking trio. He’s not as fast as he was, and he definitely does no work on defense at his old age, but he’s still capable of doing things on the soccer field that defy explanation. For Argentina, he will have to do just a bit more, particularly as he plays centrally and in more of a concrete playmaker role. Luckily for both the team and the country, Messi has not lost a step there, and should have enough runners and shooters in front and around him to elevate Argentina from a one-man team and into a well-oiled machine. Whether that’s enough to win the World Cup that has eluded him since he debuted in the 2006 edition of the tournament will remain to be seen, but for once, Messi is only the main guy and not the only point around which an entire team rotates.

Who Is Their Main Non-Scoring Guy?

Part of the reason that Messi won’t have to do it all is that this Argentina defense is finally, thankfully, a strength. The biggest X-factor for the backline also has the potential to be the most important player on the team. Tottenham Hotspur center back Cristian “Cuti” Romero is just 24 years old, but he’s already solidified himself as one of the best young center backs in the world. Perhaps more importantly, he is Argentina’s best option to shut down opposing strikers, such as Mexico’s Raúl Jiménez and Poland’s Robert Lewandowski, both opponents in the group stage. Romero is a modern center back, comfortable both with the ball at his feet and when defending one-on-ones. He steps up into challenges a lot (a lot), which can leave him out of position when he misses. However, Romero has pace to boot to catch up if he does make a mistake. He’s not the biggest center back in the field—only 6-foot-1—but he plays bigger than that, particularly when it comes to muscling opposing attackers off the ball. If Romero plays as he has at his best for Tottenham, Argentina will be able to continue its impressive defensive showing of recent years under Scaloni.

Where’s The Beef?

Which teams or players does Argentina not like? Do Argentina’s players like each other? We investigate the Argentina’s potential enemies. There’s a shout here for Lionel Messi’s philosophical battle against the ghost of Diego Maradona’s 1986 World Cup. He’s been battling that specter his whole career, after all. That’s more of a beef subplot, though, because the luck of the draw has gifted this tournament with the potential for an all-timer of a semifinal. If things shake out as expected, Argentina will have to go through its hatred rivals of Brazil in the semifinal round of the World Cup. The history of the Argentina-Brazil rivalry is vast, too vast to summarize in a few paragraphs. The two best countries in South American soccer, the neighbors—they share a 761-mile border at Argentina’s north end—have played 109 times in its history, in a pretty even rivalry: 43 wins for Brazil, 40 for Argentina, and 26 draws. However, Brazil has five World Cups to Argentina’s two, something that chafes fans of the albiceleste on a seemingly daily basis. Matches between these two giants are appointment viewing, and often happen at moments with the highest stakes. The last competitive meeting between the two was at the 2021 Copa America final, a match that saw Argentina finally win its first international trophy since the 1993 edition of the tournament, and a match that gave Lionel Messi his first major senior title with Argentina. (He had won the 2008 Summer Olympics with the side, but the “major” tag is really reserved for the Copa and the World Cup). If both teams win their respective groups—something that is more than likely—they would be on a collision course for the semifinal in Lusail on December 13. The closest that these two sides have gotten to playing that deep in the tournament was in 2014, when Argentina made the final and Brazil lost 7-1 to Germany in that infamous semifinal. There’s a possibility that either team gets upset before we get this clash of titans for a spot in the World Cup final, but both countries will feel heavily favored in all of their matchups before then. For the sake of peace in the region and in the stands, that might be the best outcome. For those who want an intense, emotionally charged showdown between the two best teams in the tournament, though, the prospect of an Argentina-Brazil semifinal is one of the best parts of this upcoming World Cup.

Most Likely To Go David Ospina Or James Rodríguez Mode

Who is the Argentina’s best candidate for a breakout performance that earns them a career-changing transfer? Might this potential post-tournament transfer go well, like when Colombia’s James Rodríguez went to Real Madrid after starring in the 2014 World Cup? Or could it go poorly, like when Colombia’s David Ospina went to Arsenal after starring in the 2014 World Cup? Enzo Fernández is the type of midfielder that Argentina is not really known for. Despite playing as a defensive midfielder for Benfica, he is not of the rugged ballhawk archetype that Argentina has produced so often (think Javier Mascherano for that type of player). Similarly, he is not a classic playmaker, the Argentine No. 10 that has a glorious history in the country (Messi, Maradona, Pablo Aimar, Juan Roman Riquelme, the list goes on). Instead, Fernández is more of a Spanish-style midfielder, incredible with the ball at his feet and runners around him. This doesn’t mean Fernández can’t play in a more defensive role for Argentina. His ball awareness and interceptions make up for his lack of physical defensive tools, and while he’s not the best tackler, he’s not scared to get in there to bust up attacks. His value will come mostly from his progressive passing from deep in the midfield, though, as well as his long-range shooting. These skills have made him one of Benfica’s most exciting prospects, and at just 21 years of age, Fernández could be one great World Cup away from a big-money move to one of the big five leagues. He’s not a player to fit into any midfield opening, but if a team needs possession and creativity for the middle of the park, Fernández is worth the risk that comes with his age and inexperience. It’s unlikely that those skills won’t translate to other leagues, but it’s also not a sure thing that he will dominate games as he has for Benfica this season, or for River Plate back in Argentina. For that reason, his score is somewhere between Ospina and Rodríguez mode, yet his potential makes him a candidate to be the next great Argentinian plying his trade at a huge club. David Ospina Mode Probability Score: 30.7 James Rodriguez Mode Probability Score: 68.1

Fun Geographical Fact

Perhaps due to its close proximity to the much-larger Brazil, it was surprising to learn that Argentina is actually the eighth largest country in the world by land mass. Is that fun? I don’t know, but I didn’t know it, so there you go. The country also has the tallest mountain in the Americas, the Southern Hemisphere, and the world, if only you wipe out Asia for that last part. Aconcagua measures a whopping 22, 838 feet at its peak, and it has the highest death rate of any mountain in South America (around three people die per year trying to climb it).

Good Flag Or Bad Flag?

This is one of the best flags in the entire world. The blue is a pleasing hue, the sun is perfect, I really have nothing bad to say about Argentina’s masterpiece of a flag.

Good Anthem Or Bad Anthem?

Oh, hell yeah. This sounds like an opera I would not fall asleep during—sorry to that one time I went to see La bohème—and the lyrics are all about breaking off the shackles of imperialism. No one does national anthems like my South American brethren. I guess that’s the reward for centuries of empire-aided turmoil.

Notable Moment In World Cup History

Argentina has won two World Cups, lost two other finals, and generally has had its share of ups and downs throughout the many years of the tournament. Still, though, there were only two real choices for this section, and both came in the same game, a quarterfinal at the 1986 World Cup. It’s Diego Maradona time, because who else could it be? It’s hard to pick between Maradona’s two goals that trumped England’s one en route to the semifinal, and eventually the trophy. The Hand of God goal is the more controversial of the two, and perhaps the more iconic one: In the 51st minute of that match, Maradona released a give-and-go ball that flopped into the air, where the tiny—he was 5-foot-5 at best—demigod found it with nobody around him. He leaped into the air and, uh, definitely headed the ball in. Definitely didn’t use his hand, no, sir. With the score opened in such a vexing manner, Maradona got to work again. Just four minutes later, he picked the ball up in his own half and proceeded to create not just his best moment as a player, but perhaps the greatest individual goal of all time. At the very least, it is known as the Goal of the Century, and given the stakes, the individual skill, and the cult of personality around Maradona, it’s hard to argue with that moniker. Over the next 10 seconds and 60 yards, Maradona dribbled four English defenders before shaking goalkeeper Peter Shilton out of his boots for a tap-in. This goal is both so good and so legendary that when Lionel Messi scored an eerily similar goal for Barcelona, it was shown as proof that he was Maradona reincarnated. (Maradona was still alive at the time, but that didn’t stop anyone.) Argentina would go on to beat Belgium in the semifinal by a score of 2-0 (Maradona scored both goals, of course), before toppling West Germany 3-2 to lift its second World Cup title in eight years. Maradona was never better than he was in the 1986 World Cup—has anyone ever been better, period?—and he was never more in his element as a world-beating whirlwind of dribbling magic than he was in those 10 seconds against England.

How Can They Win The World Cup?

This is the best Argentina World Cup team since Messi burst onto the scene. Not a lot has to break right for the albiceleste to win the title that has eluded it for 32 years, at least not beyond the usual lucky breaks that a World Cup-winning side needs to make it through the group stage and four knockout matches. Messi isn’t exactly at his peak, but as the team proved last year in the Copa America, he doesn’t need to be his world-beating self anymore. Argentina has plenty of weapons around him, and a defense worthy of its attacking talents. The hardest challenge might just be that aforementioned Brazil semifinal, but there are no glaring red flags for Argentina this time around. It’s not exactly the best team in the tournament, but it’s damn close, and that just might be enough. Source link Read the full article

[potions-n-devotions]

Welcome to Potions & Devotions, I'm your host Ash, and tonight's special is:

A glass of pinot grigio, a plate of espresso crusted asiago with strawberries, and a hill for me to die on.

Listen, I like a good white wine. I like a cheap white wine too. If I'm having wine, it's white, rosé, or it better have bubbles. And cheese, you can't go wrong with cheese. Asiago is tasty, and this espresso crust gives it a bold, earthy note that contrasts nicely with the strawberry. So, with that, I feel like chatting about correspondences. Now, I certainly could chatter on about the uses of white wine and espresso in magic. But I won't. Buckle up.

Correspondences in Witchcraft

Isn't it so nice to have correspondence lists? They're so convenient, and just make it so easy to throw together spells and shit, don't they? You can just roulette wheel your way down a list of items labeled "good for money" until you hit on a handful of items you have in your house.

Too bad things like culture, personal connections, local uses, and specific traditions impact how we use an item in magic.

A common example is green for money. Some folks will argue till they're blue in the face that green is always good for money spells, even if your country's money isn't green, because trees and nature and abundance or something. Did you know that in China, South Korea, Taiwan, and Japan the stock market uses green for declines and red for growth? Green is directly tied to loss of money in those situations. So even the supposed universal application of green for prosperity is bullshit.

But how am I supposed to learn correspondences as a beginner if it's all subjective?!?

Start studying and recording.

Now before someone jumps in and drags my ass through the digital mud for suggesting you read, because yes my neurodivergent ass knows it can be hard to read -especially dense information- you don't need to run out to your nearest university library. Study can include reading, sure. Heck, even start with those nifty little lists that all include quartz and canva graphics. But ask where that information is coming from, and ask if it's true for everyone. Then, ask if it's true for you.

If you don't have any other resources, those pretty little lists *can* be a tool for getting started. You can do better than just skimming those lists and nodding your head though.

For one thing, ask old people in your real life what they use different herbs and rocks and such for. They've probably got folk remedies, weird lore, and local superstitions to pass on. Do any of those resonate with you? Does Old Maggie saying "chili pepper will clear out your nasal cavity and fix a head cold" sound an awful lot like the nasty cold concoction your folks fed you when you got stuffy? Congrats, you just learned that chili may very well work as a healing item for you.

Write that shit down.

If you can, add a note about why, or where you learned it.

Another thing you can do, and this is more book heavy, is look up where different correspondences come from. Did that originate in European alchemy? Did it come out of pop culture? Did Crowley pull it out his ass and slap a "genuine witchcraft" label on it for marketing to Victorian esoterics?

Maybe you're finding a lot of stuff from English folk magic is making sense for you. Then you know to look more in depth at English folk traditions and see if there's more there that makes sense. Maybe you find which things you can disregard right off the bat. Maybe you get better at identifying appropriated practices that have no place on a list of witchy ideas for celebrating the new moon. It certainly makes you more knowledgeable about your own craft.

Does this mean you're going to be putting in more work and time than copying down lists? Hell yeah. Will it be more rewarding for your practice? Almost certainly. Is it worth your time? Idfk, only you can decide if it's worth it for you.

But if you find yourself complaining that there's so much beginner material, and nothing for advancing your craft, maybe, just maybe, it's time to start looking at things that aren't going to apply to as many people as possible. I'm not saying to throw out all the building blocks you picked up when you first got started. I'm saying to make them your own. Scribble all over them, cross out lines, write in the margins! Who says YOU need to use green in money spells?! Maybe it's time to try something else and start experimenting. Go wild. Question everything, teach yourself, and accept that growing might mean leaving behind all purpose lists.

Ya know what, I lied. I am going to talk about strawberries and espresso in magic. Since I keep talking about money spells, it's only right I share something from my own spellbook with you.

Espresso holds very strong connections to money and wealth for me. I grew up poor af. I always thought anything other than a plain black drip coffee was fancy. Hell, cowboy coffee was a treat I only got when we went fishing, and I thought for a long time that's what espresso was, just, tinier. When I got older I found friends who drank Americanos (espresso poured into hot water) and couldn't for the life of me understand how that was any different from a regular coffee, except the expected price tag. When I finally had an americano I learned I was wrong. It was a different drink, and I relished it! I also learned espresso wasn't just burnt coffee boiled too long and too high. It still held a place of almost reverence in my mind though. I felt guilty liking it because it's as much as a cup of diner coffee, and it could fill a thimble (exaggeration). In my mind it still occupies a space as expensive. As a luxury. As a sign of excess. So espresso is one of my most effective tools in money spells, with an added kick of being highly energetic and encouraging movement.

Strawberries represent wealth for me in a different way. Growing up, my Nan grew strawberries. It was always a fight against time, the elements, birds and bugs to harvest enough for more than a handful sized snack at any point in time. Sure, we'd get multiple handfuls throughout the season, but a whole basket full? Nah. And getting enough for strawberry shortcake? That was rare. If we were lucky, we managed to get enough berries for a shortcake during summer. My Nan would slice up the berries, sitting in the kitchen with a big bowl and a paring knife for what seemed like hours. Then she'd sprinkle sugar over the fruit and set it aside to macerate. She'd make the shortcake, letting it cool completely. She'd give us kids a bowl of heavy cream and a whisk and tell us to keep going until our arms were about to fall off. Strawberry shortcake was a treat. It was expensive. Not monetarily, but with the time and care that went into it. So strawberries always meant something to me about success, about victory. Because it felt like victory when I bit into that cake, topped with sweet strawberries and fresh whipped cream. To this day, strawberries mean I'm going to succeed. So when I want to know my endeavors are going to pay off, I add strawberries.

[imbabygrrrl]

you usher me into the bedroom after a night out, bend me over your knee and hike up my dress.

i hear the smack land on my bare ass before i feel it. it cracks in the otherwise silent room, and the sting from the impact follows shortly after.

“this is what you get,” he says matter-of-factly, hearing my whimper at the second smack. “you know better than to tease me out in public like that. youre lucky that all you get is a spanking. next time i wont be so kind.”

“y-yes sir,” i manage before the third smack lands. he yanks me up by the hair to look him directly in the eyes. “will you be a good girl the rest of the evening for me?”

i nod obediently and watch as he opens the bedside drawer, pulling out two lengths of satin and my vibrator. he ties one cloth around my head as a blindfold, the other around my hands, restraining them behind my back.

folded back over his lap, i gasp at the sudden intrusion of his finger inside me, testing me for wetness. taunting me. i whimper and moan helplessly as he toys with my folds. “do you like that baby?”

i nod eagerly. i need more. i need to be filled.

i feel the tip of my vibrator taunting the edges of my vagina for mere seconds before it - he - starts to penetrate me. the toy is too big, im not ready for it, but he doesnt care, shoves it in until im full, gasping and groaning around the size of it.

part of the toy curves around to my clit, and he turns the vibrations on, a low steady hum. he pulls me down by the hair to my knees. i squirm on the uncomfortable size of the vibrator, wanting to pump it in and out of me, wanting to control the electric feelings on my clit, but i cant. i hear him undo his zipper and open my mouth, excited to feel him inside me, to be used by him.

he chuckles - whether at my eagerness or at my discomfort i cant be sure - and i feel something hard hit either side of my face. hes playing with me again. i pout in defiance, but he squeezes my cheeks and i open obediently to him. soon i am full of him and its making me sopping wet. hes pumping in and out of my mouth while i ride my vibrator up and down, a good little slut. the best little slut for him.

i feel him tremor, hear him groan and i know whats coming. as i swallow, i feel his cock twitch again and more seed comes spilling forth. the electric feeling i get from my vibrator is spreading quick now, from my clit to my toes to my chest and face. he rips off my blindfold to savour this, how he makes me so helpless, and i come staring into the eyes of my lover

[linelpisffxiv]

On Hythlodaeus's Choice

So someone asked what would happen if Hythlodaeus didn't sacrifice himself and somehow survived the sundering, what would happen to him and Emet.

First off, those are two different if statements you couch it behind, and to be honest, I can't even get past the first.

We all had fun theorizing about Hyth from 2019-2021. We really did. We had only two moments where Hyth was a character in sidestories. One was him asking Emet-Selch for help, where we learn he thinks low of his skills, and another where Emet-Selch imagines that he gladly handed over the paperwork for Ifrita to Azem.

But here's the thing, when we got the final answer about him, that he sacrificed himself, and then later met him at his best... I can't imagine a world where he didn't sacrifice himself. That "thinks low of his skills"? He thinks really low of them. And it's pretty clear he trolls because it feels like the most impact he can make directly. And in the same moment, he also ties himself to Emet-Selch and Azem tightly, to the point that they are his purpose and he's just... treading water until theirs are done so they can die together.

But then Azem broke with the Convocation, and who knows if they're going to survive. Or if Emet-Selch is. That moment he's waiting for probably isn't going to happen. And he may be useless as he is, but if he becomes part of this bigger thing, then he'll not be useless, because his aether is more useful than he is. So if he can't return to the star with both of them, even if it's because neither is talking to the other any longer, then he's not going to either.

Maybe I'm reading the wrong book, but honestly, this is the read I got on the guy. He's not my usual "Secretly super-depressed uwu baby blorbo" headcanon I've given to too many clownish characters. (Act 1 Fiyero, Disks 1 and 2 Zidane, I'm looking at you two) but he certainly has a bit of that mask. But his main mask is the physical one. He's able to find joy a lot more often than most in that headcanon. But he also only finds that joy when he's with at least one of, and preferably both of, his most important people. Making it so he can only choose one of them at most... well, it's easier to choose zero in the end.

Basically TL;DR: Hyth's choice makes too much sense for me to really imagine him making another without changing the circumstances beforehand.

(This isn't the deal with every choice by every character in every fandom, but every now and then this wobble happens where "Given the circumstances, only X could have happened. Change the circumstances surrounding the choice and you can change it.")

[aspenforest732]

Bello Licentiae Chapter 14: Trials and Tributes

Summary:

tw: abuse, trauma Okay, you get a little bit of fluff as a treat. *hides vat of trauma behind back* 'text' JSL Text thoughts

The media was abuzz with the first day of Endeavor's trial. Reporters were pressed against the gates of U.A. trying to get any scoop from any students caught outside. Akira shook their head at the vultures' antics broadcasted on the tv, glad they wouldn't have to deal with the nonsense until the following day. They slid a bowl of cold soba to Shouto when he came down a little later than usual.

' How are you holding up? ' Akira asked, returning their focus to fixing their own bowls of soba with broccoli and beef.

"Fine," Shoto said distantly. He mostly pushed his noodles around until Akira gently tapped a nail against the counter to bring his focus back.

' You should try to eat something, ' they prodded and sat down next to him. ' I figured something light would be easy on your nerves. If anyone bothers you, we'll sic Animal Whisper and Dark Shadow on them. '

That drew a small smile out of Shouto, who slowly nibbled his way through breakfast. Dabi was with the Blue Fang with an excuse of personal business to the League since Akira couldn't be there for him. The kids wouldn't be testifying for another two weeks, and Dabi would be last from what Akira understood. With the severity of the charges, it would be a saiban-in trial where six random members of the public would pass judgment with the three professional judges.

Homeroom and English passed largely in tense quiet, even the loud members of class subdued knowing the opening statements happening in the city proper. In Classic Literature, Cementoss tried to engage the class in discussion over the current chapters a few times before sighing.

"I understand the trial today is weighing heavily on everyone's minds. I have a few topics I was going to open the floor to tomorrow, but we can do that today instead."

Akira looked up from their notes, curiosity sparking as the teacher wrote on the whiteboard.

1984's impact on the 2000s

Big Brother and Heroes

Impact of Globalization on Novels

Translations and the Internet

Cementoss checked over his shoulder after each to no hands raised. After the fourth, Akira's hand shot up and he smiled, gesturing for them to go ahead. ' Number four ties into number three a bit, right? Globalization through the Internet of Things brought together linguists and programmers from across the world to improve translations by hand and algorithms for doing so automatically. '

"That's right!" Cementoss encouraged. "The first decade or so of online translation services relied on word-by-word translations or heavily fact-checked translation of sentences. Google Translate was popular among amateur translators, but at that time had low accuracy. Even when neural machine translation was introduced to the engine, translations that required more than one step quickly decreased in accuracy."

Kaminari raised their hand, head tilted in the endearing way that brought a slight blush to Hitoshi's cheeks. "Why would you need two steps to translate a language?"

Akira jumped in, ' Some languages don't translate well directly, like Latin to Japanese kanji. Usually it has to do with complex forms of words translating to more visual languages. In that example, you translate Latin to English then to Japanese. Each Latin noun has twelve forms and each verb has a hundred and... thirty-something. '

"Exactly! Many struggle to learn Latin in the first place due to its number of declensions and conjugations, so it's rare to find someone else who speaks it. It's been considered a dead language for centuries. Did you use Ecce Romani for the basics?"

Akira sighed in exasperation, ' Yes, I still don't understand how someone could drag out a family being stuck in a ditch for ten goddamn chapters. '

The discussion continued on with advancements in deep learning algorithms and the increased accessibility in closed captioning and translation services. The emergence of Tinker quirks caused a surge in technological advancement with their innate understanding of how things worked and how new technology could work with access to the right materials and people.

Akira sprinted into Ground Beta from their makeup therapy session and made their way to the parkour section. While any of the roofs could be used, this sector had additional obstacles.

' Sorry I'm late, the... ' Akira trailed off as they saw Midoriya running the course with Hitoshi.

Aizawa waved them off, "You already said therapy might run long, so your tardiness is acceptable. Midoriya relies on his quirk too much for underground work."

Akira nodded as they slipped on their snack harness. ' Costume or no? ' they asked as they warmed up. Aizawa shook his head while shooting them a look of fond exasperation.

"You did good, asking Midoriya to talk with me," Aizawa said quietly after a moment. "Thank you for trusting me."

A small smile slipped onto their face as Akira watched Midoriya catch his breath next to Hitoshi on the last low building of one of the easy courses. ' If you could understand Peppermint and me, you could understand Broccoli. Did you notice anything off about the Bakugo or Kaminari family when you talked about the dorms? '

Aizawa frowned, "I've already spoken with both. The Kaminari's needed some guidance, and the Bakugo's are being handled."

' Were you able to find anything on Toga? ' Akira asked, standing back up from toe touches.

His expression softened and looked distant for a moment. "She's in custody of the state, and Tsukauchi opened an investigation of her parents. She's in a psych ward right now and is starting to stabilize physically. Kan is thinking about taking her in once we know more about her situation."

Once Aizawa critiqued the other two's technique a bit, Akira started towards the medium difficulty. Over the past couple months, they'd been getting more used to heights, and their stomach didn't swoop quite as much when they happened to look over the edge of a building. While wearing their costume would improve their mobility, Aizawa insisted they stick with gym clothes until he's confident enough in their footwork that they won't trip on the tassels.

Akira grinned as they took in the next jump, carefully examining the side of the building for windowsills, small balconies, and tiny ledges they could use for leverage as Midoriya and Hitoshi pulled up beside them. Once they had a solid pathing, they turned to the other two. ' Who's first? '

"How are we supposed to get up that without quirks?" Midoriya gaped.

Hitoshi chuckled and gave a sharp nod as he settled on a path. "The handholds are smaller on this one, so if you're not confident, you can go around. There's a less challenging building two blocks up and one to the right."

Challenge sparked in Midoriya's eyes as he shook his head. Turning back to the tall building, he muttered up a storm, eyes darting across the side. Aizawa watched them like a hawk while leaning against an access hutch a few streets over, hidden carefully in the shadows. Akira gave a slight nod of acknowledgment, knowing he could easily get close enough if a safety measure failed.

Midoriya's brow crinkled in frustration as he kept looking over one section. Akira waved to get his attention and signed, ' What's got you stumped? Blank and I have our paths, and we can nudge you in the right direction. '

As Midoriya described his series of jumps and hooks, Akira traced its path up the building. They let him finish before checking in with Hitoshi, who bore a knowing look and gestured to them. Akira guided Midoriya's eyes to a few steps back and showed where he veered off. ' Your first path was a good instinct but is meant for quirk and support item use. You might be able to do it since you prioritize mobility and your legs, but it would be risky. Now, Blank or I should go up first in case you need a little help at the top. Blank, are you comfortable doing that? '

Aizawa stood a little straighter as Hitoshi backed up to take a shot, stretching one more time before sprinting towards the obstacle. There was a brief moment when they teetered on a ledge but caught himself before making the last few jumps to the roof. Hitoshi let out a loud whoop before peeking over the edge and waving Midoriya up.

Midoriya flapped his hands as he jittered backwards, hopping from one foot to the other in anticipation. Akira carefully tracked his movements, ready to step in if he wasn't quite up to it. Just because there were safety nets that would extend when in parkour mode didn't mean it didn't hurt to fall. Green lightning briefly spread across his arms before Midoriya sucked it back in and darted forward. He made it to the first few platforms well enough, his short combat boots thankfully providing more traction than his Primordial shoes.

Akira frowned and took a step forward as Midoriya started to lose momentum halfway up. He hissed as his hand collapsed and lost grip on the next handhold. Midoriya fell backwards, and the safety net shot out between the two buildings. Aizawa was already on the move to them, watching as Midoriya landed squarely inside the area, the material providing a bit of bounce to lessen the impact.

"Are you okay, Midoriya?" Aizawa called out as he lowered himself to the nearby balcony set there for that purpose.

"Fine, my hand just gave out," Midoriya muttered, slowly making his way to the edge. Akira peered over the edge and took in the couple bruises and scraped up hand.

Once everyone was back on ground level, Akira cocked their head at Midoriya. ' Why didn't you activate your quirk? Your reaction time is fast enough, and it could've gotten you to a balcony at least. '

Midoriya shook his head in confusion, eyes darting between them and Aizawa. "But Aizawa-sensei said no quirks...?"

Shoving down the anger, Akira went to clarify when Aizawa sighed. "Problem Child, if you're in danger, you are allowed- no, you will use your quirk if it removes or mitigates the danger. When I or any teacher say no quirk usage, the intention is never to harm you or to allow you to get harmed."

Midoriya slowly nodded, confusion still clouding his eyes. Aizawa led them in cooldowns before they headed back to the dorm. Kaminari jumped up from the couch and rushed over, nearly tripping over themself in excitement. "Hey! Mina, Tsu, Uraraka, and I are having a fems and thems night! Any of you interested?" he chattered on with a bright grin.

A little confused but curious, Akira shrugged. ' Sure? Do I need to bring anything? '

"Nope! Mina's got all the good stuff, so just head to her room when you're ready."

Midoriya was too tired and Hitoshi uninterested, so after a quick shower, Akira took the stairs to Mina's room on the fourth floor. Her door was open, and inside was an array of nail polish, makeup, small colorful bags, snacks, and movies. Mina painted Kaminari's nails black and purple while Uraraka braided Tsu's hair. Akira awkwardly stood in the doorway for a moment before knocking.

Mina lit up, "You came! Sit anywhere, Mori. Feel free to grab snacks, a face mask, or whatever. We were just getting started. Oh, and feel free to close or pull the door to, whichever you're more comfortable with."

' Thanks for inviting me. ' Akira pulled the door to and looked around at the clashing prints and vibrant color scheme. It took them a moment to place the colorful packages as face masks since they could figure out at least generally what the other items were. Akira politely nibbled on some mochi and sat seiza while they read the mask instructions.

"Sooo, have you asked Hitoshi out yet?" Mina cooed, waggling her eyes at Kaminari.

" Mina ," they whined, "come on, they probably don't even like me that much. Toshi and I are just friends."

Akira snorted and looked over in disbelief, setting their mochi on a napkin to sign. ' Blank? Not like you? You were hanging out in their room just yesterday. He hates sharing their personal space with very few exceptions. It took him weeks to get comfortable with small touches, and you're leaning on each other all the time. '

Kaminari's blush grew as they signed until he ducked their face into his shirt, trying to hide it without their hands free. Akira took pity on him and stopped, raising an eyebrow as Uraraka tried to hide her laughter and Tsu looked amused.

"We told you so, ribbit," Tsu commented as Uraraka finished the French braid. "Mina knows about love."

"Hell yeah I do!" Mina pumped her free fist. "After all, I got you two together, didn't I?"

Uraraka blushed as Akira looked at the couple in surprise. I guess they have been spending more time together since the summer camp , they mused. Akira slowly opened the little package, careful not to tear the thin coconut oil mask.

"Ribbit, have you used a face mask before?" Tsu asked while Mina gushed about Kirishima and Katsuki.

Akira sheepishly shook their head, ' I haven't done any of this before. '

Mina gasped dramatically, both hands pressed to her chest after she loosely put the applicator back into the polish. "'That's criminal! Girl or fems and thems nights are the best. We need to get on this stat," she grew serious as Akira pulled back slightly at the intensity.

They looked to Kaminari, who had a fond grin on their face. ' I'll add that to the list? ' Akira hesitantly signed.

Tsu cocked her head slightly as Mina powered on, "Now, your hair isn't long enough to do much, but do you know your curl pattern? I do have some extensions we could play with if you're 2C, and I've heard that flattens out pretty easily with product."

Akira shrugged, ' No? I think it's pretty straight, though. It just got a bit of bounce once I cut it short. '

"Curses," Mina pouted, drawing giggles from the others and a confused grin from Akira. "A couple friends in middle school were Latinx, so I got these for makeovers. How about nail polish? I have so many colors."

As Mina showed off a selection that would go with their color scheme, a neon purple caught Akira's eye. ' Would this work? ' they hesitantly signed. ' It might match my eyes. '

"It does," Tsu piped up. "Mina also has a sparkly silver if you want to want to go all in."

Mina gasped and whipped around to find it, comparing the two against Akira's eyes before nodding. "These are perfect! Great eye," she beamed. "Since you haven't painted your nails before, don't be afraid to stop me if you're feeling uncomfortable or hate how it turns out. No hard feelings, we're here to experiment!"

Mina gently took Akira's left hand and started with a trim, lightly scolding them over the state of their brittle nails and explaining how to take better care of them. When she started to file their nails, Akira quickly pulled back at the bizarre sensation, and Mina easily switched to a clipper without pausing the conversation.

"Oh! We should put a movie on now that everyone's here," Uraraka scooted forward cross-legged to survey the options. "We've got rom coms, Disney... Mina, why are there horror films?"

"Those were my suggestion!" Kaminari grinned. "I brought some that are so bad they're funny. Oh! And a classic, Cabin in the Woods. Mori, are you in the mood for anything?"

Mina let go of their hands so they could respond, ' I've only seen documentaries and a couple adventure movies, so whatever everyone else wants is fine. '

Uraraka gasped, "Not even a nihon date?" At Akira's confusion, she continued, "Once a month, small theaters around here do a double feature for 1000 yen. I thought that was pretty common across Japan."

Akira shrugged awkwardly, lightly worrying their bottom lip. ' I didn't go out of the house as a kid, and I couldn't spare that when I moved here. ' They forced themself to ignore the confusion and concern that crept onto Uraraka's face, instead focusing on Kaminari.

"Can we watch Cabin in the Woods then?" Kaminari buzzed in excitement. "It's more comedy than horror but will still give you a taste of both."

By the end of the movie, Akira was very confused but intrigued by the concept. At some point, they'd shifted to sit more informally once their legs protested the cramped pressure. Mina and Kaminari had showed them how to contour their face depending on whether they were feeling more masc or fem on a given day since Akira was only familiar with traditional feminine makeup. Kaminari ended up in one of Mina's skirts and goth makeup before they all switched to face masks and skincare by the end of the night.

"Sooo I know the lovebirds are staying over, but Denks and Mori, are you down for a sleepover?" Mina asked, excitement dancing in her eyes.

"Totally!" Kaminari cheered as they flopped dramatically into a pile of pillows.

Akira hesitated, unsure of the group but not wanting to disrupt whatever rituals were usually part of such nights. Kami, I'm starting to think like Fumikage . Kaminari caught their eyes with his own blown wide in excitement, and they caved. ' Sure, I'm just going to grab a couple things. ' As they got off the elevator, they sagged in relief to see Hitoshi coming out of his room.

' Oh, thank kami, ' Akira quickly explained the situation.

Hitoshi nodded along sagely and asked, "Just making sure I got the gist. You had a good time at the party, Mina asked you to stay, you don't want to but agreed because of Denki's puppy eyes?"

' Yes? Kind of? ' Akira paused as Hitoshi reminded them to breathe. ' Am I supposed to stay? I don't want to ruin the night, but I might do that anyways with the nightmares. '

"I don't know Tsu and Uraraka as well, but Mina definitely wouldn't mind either way and Denki didn't mean to be pushy. If you don't want to go back up, they'd all understand," Hitoshi decided on. "And if they don't, I'll kick their asses."

Akira chuckled and grabbed their weighted blanket and Bastard plushie from their futon, tucking each under an arm as they rode back up. Maybe it won't be as bad with other people in the room?

Notes:

I was going to progress one of the other storylines then realized that it's been close to a month in-universe since Endeavor was arrested. From what I've been able to scrounge up, it doesn't seem like Japanese trials are public like ones in the U.S. are. Since I've been trying to avoid Americanizing aspects of the story, figured I'd be better off keeping the story out of the courtroom. My Latin nerd friend told me about the struggle of Ecce Romani, and I had to include it XD I realized I'd mostly been writing the masc part of Akira's identity and wanted to show it's ok to have a little fem in your life as an afab person. It's okay to have a lot of it, in fact. Just a friendly reminder that gender identity and gender expression can be totally different, and that's ok 😊 Fun fact! Cabin in the Woods was the first horror movie I watched all the way through and the second overall. My first was Insidious Chapter I, and 20 minutes in I was so bored I turned it off. A friend convinced me to try CitW since it's more comedy than horror, and I loved it! If you haven't seen it, would highly recommend 10/10 Me: initially calls class Modern Literature Also me: starts talking about 1984

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[testbed24]

THIS WEEK AT NOT BUNGIE - 3/12/2018

View with the original formatting on https://notbungie.net/twanb_002

This week we deployed a Destiny 2 development roadmap with some new rewards. We didn't want to release it in its current form, and we'll be able to see what you all do in the competitive match completion mechanic.

Gotta Go Back and Refine Normal Players

Last week you informed Destiny 2's scoring options for the timeline of the maintenance window of our most important fashion damage. Power ammo respawn timers were adjusted across the first thing you should know about.

Crimson Days is only available through crimson engrams or vendors in the crucible rotation.

A Destiny server was discovered in the live environment where these actions require your explicit approval in the wild.

Mods That Reduce Glimmer Identity

last season Jon Weisnewski has been increased to the creations page and you will get your shot at reading opponents on the leviathan screen.

Here are the current modifiers we're working on diligently to make available alongside Destiny server feedback.

dmg04 pulses have been escalated to take advantage of feedback since launch.

Impact scouts increased base damage for high-end thresholds when you activate your hands.

Cozmo items from lord Shaxx are now two guardians in Destiny.

Destiny player support will undergo backend maintenance and add projectile tracking without losing snipers.

Enabled invisibility on Tuesday for players who cant loot from The Colony exotic sparrow.

Game rewards may push out one of the more exaggerated examples of feedback since launch of worlds modifiers.

Air accuracy penalties from being too hard for a full stack of shaders is going to greatly increase.

Faster total movement bonus for players who can't strength for clearing strikes.

Increased improvements that dilute item identity to give you a basic idea of what you might lose out to get that chest ornament.

Reduced flinch multiplier for precision shotguns like the tower vendor listed in relation to weapon archetypes.

Arcstrider mechanism penalties have been adjusted across the next sandbox developer commentary.

Dawnblade has been reduced to 7s and players may accrue 38 ghost scannables on twitter.

Sentinel items from last time lord Saladin packed up his companion are actively collecting data wirelessly in the prestige eater.

PvP engagements may have noticed some changes coming weeks ago and we agree it was discovered in the world forever.

Faster total movement utility cap has been expanded around what you can take.

Increased PvE damage for all three glides plus titans.

Increased inventory size or restorative rewards. (Haven't enjoyed discovering masterwork combatants for this update.)

Tested an experience that relies less on clumping damage after getting a melee experience, and we'll be available to see what you all do in competitive housekeeping.

In Tune With More Prevalent Plans

Cozmo asked you to actually dodge things. Power weapons are directly available through enough tokens to qualify for a high damage utility update. The goal of feedback since launch is to make shotguns more unique and faster for everyone to see their supers directly tied by completing specific nightfall emblems.

As Destiny sandbox updates, which are broken down by sticking challenges, are now two key areas for improvement with your video pools, we hope to do more reserve ammo respawn timers in survival activities like this hotfix for adaptive gear.

We didn't want to release you as soon as maintenance concludes, but we wanted Senior Designer Alex Velicky to explain what you think about Iron Lords. You can find them in their consumables inventory this week at Bungie for players who can't loot from your foes.

Destiny Related Entertainment

Movie of the Burst Experience: Hello Friends

Honorable Mention: Telesto'd by the Leviathan

Honorable Mention: Monster Energy From the Crimson Screen

Next week is available to anyone until May. This is so challenging to make shotguns more than violently flying backwards until February. We also hope you know there is a lot of feedback that stated the game was too focused on adding and/or increasing player articles for the timeline of worlds. We’ve the new scoring rules to make exotics more prevalent in short amounts of time lord Saladin.

Thanks for playing cooldowns wirelessly.

Cheers,

-Not Cozmo