#poor spear shaped weapons.

[alish-artie]

Poor Jabit (and Speardovich).

[gatorbites-imagines]

Whitebeard fucker here lol I’ve been summoned. Could you write something with a reader whose used to being the biggest guy around meeting whitebeard and going “ohhh” and wanting to climb that man like a tree? Any and all kinks are up to your choosing monsieur gator!! Also happy birthday man!

Edward “Whitebeard” Newgate x male reader

Headcanons

Bit my lip so fucking hard when I saw this request. Whitebeard enjoyers come assemble!

Thanks for the birthday wish :) I ended up getting a lot of comics and manga, so I’m very happy.

Reader possesses a devil fruit I made up I call the sun-sun Fruit. Hes also like 16 ft 9. Hes also at least 40+ years old. Old man yaoi.

You had known of Whitebeards existence ever since you started traveling the sea, who didn’t? The guy was a legend known as the strongest man alive, someone to avoid if you did the type of business you did.

You were a bit of an everything man. Information gathering, Intimidation, bodyguarding, assassin, anything that paid you a lot and you didn’t have to hurt the innocent, Youd do it.

The world government were cautious of you, but always let you get away with things others wouldn’t, as you also took jobs for them if need be. You played on every board, siding with pirates, with marines, with the poor, and with the rich. As long as they had good reason for asking for your help.

Your Sun-Sun fruit always helped with this as well, making you an extremely powerful fighter, possessing the ability to gather and store solar energy and light itself. After mastering it you could easily create explosions big enough to destroy islands, coat your body in solar energy, or coat your weapons, as well as many other things.

Your preferred weapon were spears, your most beloved weapon a naginata that had been gifted to you after a job well done, some celestial who fanboyed over pirates wanting to give you a big reward. The naginata was supposedly cursed, but you two got along a little too well most days.

All in all, you were well known in your own circles, but nowhere near as much as someone like Whitebeard.

That was also the reason you turned down your latest request to kill Whitebeard. You might have been strong, but you were never an idiot. You might have stood at almost 17 feet, towering over anyone you had ever met, but even you know Whitebeards crew was so loyal it was lethal.

The people giving you the request has been annoyed about you rejecting it, but they could do nothing to stop you as you left, on your way to the next island. There was never a destination in mind if you didn’t have a contract, so you just called it joy sailing.

It was mere coincidence that you found yourself sailing through Whitebeards territory. You had no need for a crew, as you had mastered the skill to create stand-ins with your sun-sun fruit, creating human shaped beings out of condensed solar energy.

The ship you traveled in wasn’t too big either, especially compared to the moby dick. But they had easily spotted you, and your “crew” had spotted them in return. For some reason the whitebeard crew were interested in you, though their interest made your heartrate skyrocket as the moby dick neared your own much smaller ship.

When it became clear they weren’t there to fight, you agreed to link up your ships, even if it was just because you knew they could end you before you would be able to run for it.

Stepping onto the ship, part of you was curious at their lack of reaction to your towering height, even as they had to turn their heads all the way back to look at you to ask questions about your “light crew”, or one of them demanding to know what your favorite food was, or where you got your naginata.

When you finally met Whitebeard though, it all made sense. The guy made even you feel small, even though he wasn’t towering over you the same way you were the rest of his crew. Maybe it was his presence, as he laughed and patted you on the back, greeting you by the nickname the masses called you.

But all you could think about was how seeing someone taller than you made you feel. Just feeling his large hand patting your shoulder, or seeing how he was still taller than you when you sat, was enough for you to think about booking it again.

You had no idea why, but for some reason you stuck around with the Whitebeard crew for a while. To the point where they started acting like you were part of the crew. Even when you tried to turn it down, they’d just give you a knowing look before ignoring your complaints.

In your opinion, you were too old to join someone’s crew, especially with you being known as a “backstabber”, as you never picked one specific side.

And yeah, you knew why you were sticking around for so long. It was all Whitebeard, and that weird, fluttering feeling he gave you, and the arousal he caused, but that was not as important…for the most part.

It was only after the crew had settled on the island to restock that you thought about leaving for real. One of your contacts had called you on your den den mushi, and told you about a very high paying job. You might have been so rich your ancestors would live in luxury, but you could never get enough.

Unluckily for you, Whitebeard had overheard the call. He had looked sad about you wanting to leave, but had invited you to join him for a drink before you packed up and went on your way.

That’s how you found yourself sitting beside him in front of a bonfire, just the two of you, both of you decently buzzed and flushed. Your devil fruit power made you mostly immune to alcohol, the heat of the sun burning the alcohol away before it could work, but whatever stuff Whitebeard had on him seemed to have the right kick.

Later you would blame the alcohol for your reaction when Whitebeards hand settled on your lower back. You had abandoned your jacket a while ago, some of Whitebeards crew running off with it to use it for some drunk game they were playing.

Your devil fruit also worked best without too much clothes in the way, meaning Whitebeards hand was right on your back, and your thirsty self had arched into it with a soft groan, your head flopping to the side to rest against him.

Whitebeard had chuckled, but it wasn’t his usual loud guffaw, but something deeper and smoother, like melted dark chocolate or the best whiskey you had ever drank.

His hand had rubbed and massaged your back until you felt like putty, small sparks of light and solar energy flickering across your torso as your control slipped, Whitebeard huffing amusedly at the small jolts it sent through his arm.

You would blush in the future when thinking about it, denying it ever happened, before blaming the alcohol once more. But in that moment, it was impossible to not spill all the thoughts you had about him. How he made you feel so hot inside, how much you fantasied about him, his hands, his height, his cock.

Whitebeard had seemed almost charmed, and maybe he was. It wasn’t every day that someone his age and especially his size had someone fawning over them. Maybe that was why he pulled you into his lap, with your back resting against his chest, as his battle worn hands traveled across the front of your torso.

He murmured and purred into your ears as one of his large, calloused hands groped and pinched at one of your pecs, making you gasp and arch into the touch, legs jolting until his other hand came down to hold your thigh in place.

The praise falling from his lips had you feeling much drunker than you were, vision blurring for a second before you were able to focus again, your own hands grasping at his pantleg as you huffed out a breath.

The veins across your body lit up every now and then from the stored solar energy in your body flickering, causing Whitebeard to chuckle that deep chuckle once more, making some comment about that being a nice party trick.

You were about to snap back a rebuttal, something rude about his own devil fruit power, but before the words could even leave you, the hand gripping your thick slid under your waistband.

Embarrassment flooded your system as you keened, head falling back onto his chest as your hips jolted. And how crazy was that? He was so tall your head fall onto his chest, not his shoulder, not above his own head, his chest.

It had your throbbing even more, immediately coating his palm in a layer of precum, making Whitebeard tsk teasingly, before rubbing the palm against the head of your sensitive shaft, only making you drip even more.

What could you say. You were sensitive. Being your size made it pretty hard to find a partner who could keep up with you, or someone you wouldn’t hurt on accident. And as your fame grew, less and less individuals even wanted to give it a try.

That was why you were keening and whimpering in Whitebeards lap like some kind of virgin, at least that’s what you told yourself to keep your dignity.

It didn’t explain the way you jolted and spilled into his hand when Whitebeard grabbing your chin, turning your head so he could kiss you. Your eyes rolled back, and solar energy flashed across your body as you came, gasping into his mouth, your breath so hot It would have harmed anyone not as sturdy as Whitebeard.

With his lips still pressed against yours he mumbled praise, telling you stuff that had you melting even further into his embrace, hips still jolting and twitching into his hand like you didn’t want it to end.

As you rolled your hips you could feel his own erection, and you almost wanted to pass out from just how big he felt. You had never met anyone who was bigger than you in that way, yet here Whitebeard was, pretty much offering it to you on a silver platter.

The night was spent with Whitebeard wringing more than just a couple of orgasms out of you, at some point leaving you so overstimulated and pleasured that your body had phased out, turning into solar energy.

Whitebeard had cackled loudly at the sight, seeing how you were in so much pleasure you couldn’t even stay solid. When you finally came back to yourself, he placed a big kiss on your cheek and then your mouth, making some teasing comment about it all.

The next morning you couldn’t look his crew in the eye, the knowing looks boring into your large broad back, that for once was wearing a shirt, to cover most of the hickeys their captain had left on you.

And if you just so happened to turn down the job offer your informant gave you, and if you just so happened to attach your ship to their fleet, and you just so happened to start being referred to in the same parental way as Whitebeard, who would be the wiser.

You honestly had no idea how to react when Whitebeards, and you guessed now your, crew started referring to you with a fatherly title in the same way they called Whitebeard Pops. You hadn’t wanted to be open about your relationship with Whitebeard, but to the crew it was so damn obvious.

Even when you and Whitebeard became official, and maybe even married at some point, you still took jobs every now and then, never getting enough of the thrill of money. But it was a lot less, and you pretty much cut all contact with the world government.

Sure, that got you a bounty and a high reward, but you honestly couldn’t care. After all this time you realized, maybe a crew wasn’t so bad. It also helped to have a partner that made you feel safe and cared for, whilst also leaving you limping in the best possible way.

[stevesbestgirl]

Phases of the Moon - Part 1

Steven Grant x f!Reader, eventual Marc Spector x f!Reader

2796 words

Warnings: poor imitations of British speaking habits, not much else in part one, maybe a few curses but I’m not sure

A/N: This was my attempt to write a slow-burn. It’s long, self-indulgent, and obscenely fluffy. Reader is specified as American, but mostly so I can avoid pretending I know anything about living in the UK. Steven and Marc are aware of each other and trying to find balance in their relationship in this fic, but keep in mind that I am not a system and am not an expert. All of my information about their relationship comes from the Moon Knight show and I use that as my reference point. 

*Bold type is spoken by Marc when Steven is fronting.*

Masterlist

“Go talk to her.”

“Well I can’t, can I?” Steven sent a furtive glance at you, toying absently with your phone while you examined the glyphs inside a display.

“Why can’t you?”

“She’s got earphones in.”

Marc scoffed in the glass of one of the display cases, “Always an excuse.”

“I can’t just interrupt her, that’d be rude!”

“Not if she’s interested.”

Steven’s reply was cut short as a pair of boys came rushing around the corner, laughing and shoving each other- Steven wouldn’t have placed them at older than twelve. He watched helplessly as one firm push sent the smaller of the two reeling into your backside. Completely oblivious to their noise, you went sprawling, headphones disconnecting as your phone hit the ground and was sent skittering across the polished floor, coming to rest at Steven’s feet.

Inhibitions gone, Steven scooped your phone up and rushed over, offering a hand to help you up, “Are you okay?” You nodded, feeling a little embarrassed. “You lot,” he called out, locating the pair sidling off behind a diorama, “C’mere.” 

They looked like they were considering bolting, but the smaller of them located Steven’s badge and took a reluctant step forward. By the time they stood in front of you, they were looking rather cowed, like puppies who’d been caught gnawing a slipper. 

“Shape up, you hear? You could’ve really hurt someone.”

“Sorry.”

“Yeah, sorry.”

“Now listen, down that corridor there, there’s a bunch of old weapons; spears, cudgels, daggers, the like. How about you go give it a look?” You watched him speak to the two boys; his enthusiasm seemed very genuine, not the fake kind adults often used with children.

The taller boy hesitated before leaving, “What’s a cudgel?”

Steven smiled a little, “Why don’t you go on and find out?” Then the two rushed in the direction he’d indicated and he called after them, “Slowly, hm?”

Once they were out of sight, you finally spoke, “Are you sure that was a good idea? Sending them in there with a bunch of weapons?” You couldn’t help but smile as he unconsciously smoothed his dark, nearly sleep-tousled curls back from his face.

His intent had been to chuckle, but it came out as more of an empty puff of air, “They’re all under glass- should be alright.” He added, “Maybe I’ll pop in to check on them, just in case.” Nervous now, he looked down at his hands, still holding your phone, “Oh, there you are.” Your expression fell and only then did he notice the spiderweb of cracks in the bottom corner where it had hit the floor, “Oh no.”

You shook your head, accepting the phone and dropping it to your side, like putting it out of sight would make him forget, “It’s alright. Just a screen protector. I’ll get a new one eventually.”

“Sorry about that, love,” he insisted, his earnest gaze finally meeting yours just in time for your face to go warm. You’d thought you’d been ready to hear the term of endearment used so casually when you came to England, but apparently not.

“It’s alright,” you rushed to speak. “Definitely not your fault. Thanks for helping me-” you glanced at his name tag, “-Steven.”

“No problem- it is my job after all,” he cracked a halfhearted smile.

“You were great with those kids too.”

Rosy warmth tinged his cheeks and his gaze shifted away, “Thanks.” A small pause, “Your accent- you’re American?”

You nodded, “Needed a change of scenery, so I’m staying with some family for a while. Just got in yesterday, actually.”

His gaze eagerly lifted to yours again, but flicked away over your shoulder and he went slightly pale. Glancing back, you saw a stocky woman with dirty blonde hair gesturing impatiently at him.

Returning his gaze to you, he looked a bit panicked, “I’m sorry, I’ve gotta go. I- ah-” He tripped over his words and almost tripped almost his feet as well, veering around you and backing away toward the woman beckoning him over. 

You raised your hand in an uncertain farewell as he stammered his way backwards, gesturing faintly over his shoulder with his thumb in a faint attempt at an explanation. Once he was within range, the woman seemed to be lighting into him a bit, though his gaze hadn’t yet left you. It wasn’t until she snapped her fingers that he looked at her. 

Not wanting to spy, you turned away, checking your phone for the time. When Steven glanced your way again, he only caught your retreating form disappearing out the entrance. For once, Donna’s criticisms didn’t affect him since he was already kicking himself for not asking you out. Or getting your phone number. Or even your name. He’d blown it. 

*

The following day, you had a bit more time to explore the museum, so you returned. And you noted with dismay, when the cabbie called you “love”, you didn’t so much as blink, let alone blush. Maybe it had been a one-off thing. Now you would be immune. 

Walking in and spotting the woman from before at the front desk, you plucked up a bit of courage and approached. Her name tag read “Donna” and she prompted with visible disinterest, as though she were reading off a script, “Welcome. Is there something I can direct you to?”

Deciding to push forward, you said, “Actually, I was just in here yesterday. I ran into a bit of trouble with a couple of young boys and one of your tour guides helped me. I wanted to let you know that Steven was very polite and just lovely with those kids-”

“Stevie? He isn’t a tour guide,” Donna interrupted, wrinkling her nose. “In his dreams, maybe.”

“But he does work here?”

“Yeah, he’s the gift shoppist.” She was still being very flippant; it was clear that she’d barely had interest in this conversation to begin with and now that it was about Steven, it had dwindled to none. 

“Right. Thank you.” You forced a smile and nodded before heading off in the direction of the gift shop.

The counter was empty when you first walked into the room, sending a tiny shoot of disappointment into your chest. You wanted to thank him, since it didn’t appear that you could score him any points with his boss.

You wondered for a moment if you should come back later, but then a shaggy, brown mop of hair sprung up from behind the counter, triumphantly brandishing what appeared to be a large, amber-colored marble with a bone inside it, “Got ya, you little bugger.”

His gaze fell on you and he tucked the marble behind his back, like it was something to hide, “You- you came back.”

You reached into your bag, pulling out the brochure you’d picked up yesterday, “I was only passing through yesterday.” You unfolded the brochure and showed him the notes you’d taken on the map, detailing where you wanted to go first and which exhibits had caught your eye, “I like to plan a little bit.”

He followed the line you traced with your finger intently, raising his gaze to your face when you pulled away, “That’s a good way to go about it. The tour is pretty good too.” Steven’s heart skipped as your lips pulled into a slight frown; had he said something wrong? 

“Speaking of the tour, I tried to put in a good word for you with your boss- as thanks, for yesterday- she doesn’t seem to like you very much.”

“Oh, yes. Donna and I have got a bit of a rocky history.” He added quickly, “Not a history, mind you. More like a boss/employee history. I’ve got a bit of a bad track record with my punctuality, actually,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well, I think you’d make a lovely tour guide, for what it’s worth.”  

There was another one of those long pauses; you were about to offer a meek “Thanks again,” and cut your losses when he spoke up, “If you like, I’m on a break in ten minutes. I could show you around.”

You’d insisted to yourself that this wasn’t why you came back here, but you found yourself nodding, a faint smile on your lips, “I’d like that.”

Steven seemed even more surprised than you were, nodding quickly, “Great- that’s- great.” He nodded again, “I can meet you in the ‘King’s Tomb’ exhibit.” He pointed, “Right over there-” He checked his watch, “-in nine minutes.”

Your smile widened, “See you in nine minutes then.” You moved off in the direction he’d indicated, the temptation to look back gnawing at you. 

“Wait!” he called after you. You turned back, “I haven’t got your name.”

“You haven’t needed it, have you?” 

Now you were teasing and you knew it. But you could feel his eyes on you as you disappeared around the corner and you smiled to yourself. So much for doing your own thing. The whole reason for coming to London was to get away from men- although you supposed it was more one man than men in general. But something about Steven just caught your eye.

So you waited out the impossibly long eight minutes remaining until Steven walked in, looking in a bit of a rush. You watched him scan the exhibit, almost like he’d expected you to have left by now.

You raised a hand, “Steven.” He positively lit up at the sight of you, relief visible in the heavy exhale he released- like he'd been holding his breath. 

You met him in the center of the room, clasping your hands behind your back in anticipation. Steven still had the remnants of a grin on his face, though he mirrored your posture, a bit of enthusiasm escaping as he bounced on the balls of his feet, just once, “What do you want to see?”

“You’re my tour guide, you tell me,” you teased. 

Almost instantly, his face flushed, “Well, I wasn’t sure if there were specific displays you wanted to look at or certain subjects you were interested in, you know? Since I've only got fifteen minutes on my break.” 

“Well, I’m interested in everything, but since we only have fifteen minutes; how about you show me the way you’d start your tour if you were a guide?” His cheeks darkened further and you had to bite the inside of your cheek not to smile again. But he surprised you, recovering quickly and placing his hand on your arm. He steered you over to one of the displays and you glanced at him, “The Ennead?”

The Ennead,” he corrected your pronunciation. “The Egyptian Gods.” He wheeled around so his back was to the exhibit, his gaze meeting yours with ease. “Everything about Egypt comes back to the gods one way or another, so to understand Egypt, you have to understand them.”

He walked you through the exhibit, one god or goddess at a time, his hands moving animatedly as he talked. And he was good at it, in a different way than you’d expect. He had such a wealth of knowledge- you felt comfortable asking questions because you expected him to have the answers. And he answered many of your questions before you could even ask them; his explanations were pretty comprehensive. 

It was all strangely charming, actually. His enthusiasm was so genuine, it was as though he invited you inside it with him. It was a nice place to be- like sharing a secret. It was also putting you in dangerous territory; a magnetic field that would be hard to pull yourself from.

Once you were about halfway through the eleven, you tentatively raised your hand. Steven faltered slightly, giving you the chance to speak up, “Two things- I just want to check the time, I’d hate for you to be-”

“Late-” he checked his watch faster than you could pull out your phone.

You grabbed his hand, pulling him back toward the gift shop, “Well, come on then, I don’t want you getting into trouble!”

Steven’s long strides quickly outpaced you; you had to hurry to keep up, a laugh at the ridiculousness of it slipping out. Steven glanced back- nearly shouldering a display case. Right before impact, his back straightened a bit, like he sensed it coming, and he just twisted out of the way. It was so smooth you wouldn’t have noticed the deft movement if you hadn’t been anticipating the collision.

By the time you skidded to a halt in front of the gift shop counter, you were full-on giggling; you couldn’t remember the last time you’d laughed so hard over almost nothing. “Sorry about that,” Steven offered meekly.

You took a breath and collected yourself a bit, though you still felt the warmth of the laughter in your cheeks, “Don’t be- it was fun.”

“What was the other thing?” he asked, shuffling back behind the counter.

“Hm?”

“You said there were two things, the time and what else?”

“Oh! Well that exhibit was called the ‘King’s Tomb,’ right? Why are the gods in that one?”

He leaned on the counter, some of his timid demeanor vanishing, “Well, the pharaohs were considered to be gods by their people. So they put them in a room together. And since the mummies are what brings in the crowds, they get the-” he clicked his tongue, framing a little marquee with his fingers, “-title spot.”

“I suppose you know quite a lot about those too?”

He gave a chagrined smile, “Did I go on a bit much then?”

You shook your head, “Not at all- I wasn’t teasing. I wish we’d had time to do the whole exhibit.”

“I’d wager with me giving it, that tour would take all week,” he joked, feeling like he’d done too much talking during your time together.

You shrugged, “I’m on vacation.” Smiling, you added, “Or holiday, you’d probably call it.”

He smiled weakly at the joke, seeming to be working out what you’d meant. He scanned your face, as though nervous he was misreading you, but you just smiled at him. “I’m scheduled again on Thursday, I could- if you like, I mean- I could show you some more. Of the exhibit. Obviously. If you want.” 

You were here for freedom. You’d come all the way to another country so you could do what you wanted, when you wanted, no strings attached. But, you reasoned, this wasn’t dating. This was an exclusive tour, on Steven’s break. It wasn’t like he was taking you out to dinner.

You were bargaining; whittling away your rules to nothing because they no longer suited your purposes. You knew that. And you also knew that you only did so because Steven was, very clearly, a large string. A large string with lovely, brown, puppy eyes and enough passion for Egypt to make a pharaoh blush. But you nodded anyway, “I’d love to come back. Same time?”

He seemed stunned by your acceptance, but he nodded rapidly to overcompensate for the moment of hesitation, “Yeah. My break is at three.”

You smirked, “How many minutes from now?”

He stared at you for a moment- you almost wondered if he was trying to do the math, but then he flushed and gave a weak chuckle, “Right, I’ll work on that one.”

You pulled out the brochure you’d picked up yesterday and a pen from your bag, “Since I won’t be needing this anymore-” You scribbled down your name and number and slid the brochure across the table, “Text me when you figure it out.” No strings, you reminded yourself.

He gave another hurried nod, “Okay, I will, I-” 

You got a sense of deja vu as Steven glanced over your shoulder and paled in nearly the exact same way he had yesterday. “Is it Donna?” You quickly scanned the counter, grabbing a stuffed hippopotamus, “Because I’d like to purchase this.” You deliberately moved it across the counter where Donna would be able to see and pulled out your wallet.

Now Steven looked back to you, “You don’t have to do that. Most of this stuff if junk-”

“I want to. This one is kind of cute.” You held out the money, “And you’ll tell me all about it next time?”

He nodded, a small smile returning to his face, “Yeah, I will.” He handed back your change and the plush, speaking up so Donna could hear, “Enjoy the rest of your afternoon.”

You smiled, “Same to you.”

You left the other way so Donna wouldn’t see your face, hoping she wasn’t descending on Steven for being late from his break. You held the little hippo plushie to your chest and thought ahead to Thursday.

[zodiac-senpai]

As of now, we have about 74 days until the release of Sword Art Online: Last Recollection. (proud to say I preordered this wonderful game :) And with almost two months left, we so far know this:

Over 40+ playable characters.

The Bed Scenes will be in the game as “DLCs”. (supposedly as part of the “heroine packs”, which yes, includes Eugeo 💙 they might make them separately too; who knows(?)

My only gripe here is we need more male characters with bed scenes but that’s a personal thing; I know Eugeo being “the only guy” with one is meant to show how unique he is as a “male heroine” (and Kirito’s sole male love interest/harem member) but still, with options like Iskahn, Renly, Eldrie, or hell, Bercouli, the sky’s the limit. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I was a little concerned still for how they’d handle Kureha and Zeliska, since unlike Lycoris, these are the REAL ones coming into Underworld and giving them bed scenes would be… more than complicated (😅) Now, if they do their best to show them in a platonic light and mainly talk about the Fatal Bullet MC, I can respect that. Probably make sense Itsuki doesn’t get one, since he more or less was jelly of Kirito being around us (😂) but what got me most excited is what steamy outfit are they gonna give Eugeo (👀💕).

Yuuki will appear in Underworld, apparently as the game-original Goddess, “Gladia”. (poor Lunaria/moon goddess)

No fishing but we’ll have other activities (yay 😇)

Our boi Itsuki is returning, courtesy of Protagonist-kun asking him to in his stead.

With Yuuki’s confirmation, we got Asuna (Stacia), Sinon (Solus), Leafa (Terraria), Lisbeth (Ignia), Silica (Aeria), and Yuuki (Gladia) using Goddess Accounts.

All the ga(y)meverse heroines (yes, that includes Itsuki, cowards 😂) will appear in SAOLR: Itsuki, Kureha, Zeliska, Medina, Philia, Premiere, Rain, Seven, Strea, and Tia. (GIMME EIJI AND ROGU!!)

Argo and Yui will also appear (not sure if Yui is gonna be playable or not)

Weapon types are: One-Handed Swords, Two-Handed Swords, Dual-Wielding, Rapiers, Bows, Daggers, Maces, Katanas, Spears, Whips, Axes/Shields, and the new weapon type, Scythes. (with characters like Argo and Iskahn being playable, odds are we’re getting a unique weapon type for them).

No more ACC (accuracy).

Kirito, Eugeo, and Alice will be slaying some new outfits for WoU (War of Underworld) as evident by the trailers.

And last... but not least...

MANSERVICE

Definitely shaping up to be the best SAO game in the franchise

[00virtuezero]

Saturday : Nov. 11 Misc .

@fromtheboundlesssea

Neither Gods Nor Men Armaments of the Dragons :  List of Weapons used by each Dragonrider and marital warrior of the Green,  Blue, and Black Factions .

The Greens

King Rhaenor Targaryen I “The Red King”  :   Blackfrye -  Valyrian Steel Bastard Sword,  “ Fang”-  A kiliji ( https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kilij#:~:text=Because%20of%20the%20shape%20of,did%20not%20allow%20the%20thrust ) one handed, single edged and curved scimitar blade that was taken as war trophy by Rhaenor when he killed notable Triarchy Commander, used  a optional weapon besides Blackfrye and also for the King’s rare, but at times used Dual Wielding swordmenship. Dagger of Ice and Fire : Valyerian Steel Dagger with a Dragonbone crafted hilt, passed down from Targaryen King to King.

Prince Aemond “One-Eye”, Targaryen, Heir to the Dragon: “Vilgilance”- A Valyerian Longsword that has belonged to House Hightower for centuries, gifted to Prince Aemond for the Dance and to symbolize Aemond being the Targaryen-Hightower Heir,  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Messer_(sword) :  Given to from Ser Criston Cole to Prince Aemond,  Messer Sword is native to Stormlands, that was designed to be  single edged sword with knife like hilt,  notable for shearing cuts, and most importantly self defense, 

Staff of the One-Eye/Scythe of the Stranger :  Design wise, the staff Rhaenor gifted is Aemond is Longstaff/Quarter staff made completely from Dragonbone basically given it a major high level durability allowing it with stand blows against armor and also swords or melee weapons as well.  Serving as offensive and defensive staff, allowing Aemond to attack and defend, overwhelming opponents with speed and blunt damage. Do to dragon bone can also potentially break bone or even slightly dent armor.

This also includes two attachable  blades that can be attached two each opposite end of staff, making it Double Bladed Staff.   Can be potentially used as psychological intimidation   given slight oddity and unfamiliarity with two blades attached to opposite ends and along possible attacking opponents on opposite side. 

The Two attachable Blades, can when not put on the staff, be used as Short Swords. Along with being oppotional for one Blade to be attached, thus making a spear and also possible javelin weapon.

Last and optional attached weapon a Single Curved Edged Blade, which would be later dubbed a “ War Scythe”.

Princess Saera “ War Rose” Targaryen :  “ Thorn”-   A Long Sword, made of finest materials found in the Reach, hilt is shape green rose.  “Flare” :  Short Sword and optional melee weapon, has flame shaped helt.   “ Sun Shield” :  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Buckler  Its size made it poor protection against missile weapons (e.g., arrows) but useful in deflecting the blow of an opponent's weapons, binding his arms, hindering oppotents movements, or punching them. 

The Blues

King Aegon  “ The Blue King” Velayron :  Basilisks Valeryian Steel Sword :https://www.pinterest.com/pin/437482551283112561/ ( Third Century Sparta Sword ). Color of Basiliks : Steel Sword color is Azure and hilt is Silver color, Plommel and Guard are Obsidian Black. Design of Hilt is that of a Sepertine head, with mouth pointed to where the Blade is, pommel is orbed shape with near very a large Fang like blade pointing out it ( Rumored to be an actual Basiliks Fang and can be used melee weapon and stabbing weaponSparta was ancient longsword with a straight and double-edged blade, which is sharpened on both sides to lacerate the opponent effectively. This straight blade tapers to a tip at the very end of the sword, giving it the ability to be effective in a deep piercing motion. To me that also fit’s Symbolism of of Serpents Strike and also Versatility of it as a sword, Valeryian Steel helps as well given it can cut threw almost anything. The Fang at end of Rounded Pommel is intact a actual Basilisk’s fang, taken from a large Basilisk a Velayron ancestor killed and decided to attach its Posion Fang to the Pommel, along with how the sword became known as Basiliks. Of course now a days the Fang isn’t able to produce posion because of age, but it skill can make for effective pierceing weapon.

The Smith’s Hammer :  A one Handed War Hammer that has Silver-Blue Hammer on end and other side perceing Edge on the other in shape of a Shark’s Fin.  Serving a Secondary Weapon and along capable of bashing on enemy armor to break limbs, skulls, and the like.   Rumored to be crafted from the strongest metals that House Velayron could buy.

Laena “ The Valkyrie” Velayron :  “ Shadow Spine”  :  A Silver Longsword with a dragon head shaped sigil, and up pointed guards, designed after the Valeryian Steel Sword “ Dark Sister”.   Short Sword for optional weapon if needed,   Circle Shield for Defense from both Arrows and Melee Weapons.

Prince Viserys “Warhammer” Velayron :  Bastard Sword  with skyblue colored hilt,  One handed Axe-Weapon for Melee Combat,  Long Handed Axe that is wielded with both hands,  inspired by Corly Velayron’s own Long Handed Axe.

The Blacks

Lord Jacerys “ The Unworthy”  Rivers :   Noted for carrying a total of Three different type of Swords on his person, which symbolizing House Strongs Three Swords :   Bastard Sword with a Dark Green colored Hilt,   A Long Sword with a Dark Blue colored hilt, and  a https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Falchion  Cleaver Sword with a Black hilt, that has a crossguard.

Giving Jacerys different options in combat and keeping his oppotent guessing as he changes styles.  While his half brothers Aegon and Aemond are among the best warriors of the siblings, Jacerys makes up for by willing to trick and confuse his oppotents, along with a brutal and calculated ferocity.

Lady Baela “ The Siren” Velayron-Rivers :   “Venom” : A Dark Colored Long Sword with a Dragon winged shaped Hilt,   “ Silence” :  A Slight Curved Knife for Melee Combat and keep on person as side armament even when not in full armor .  Bow and Arrows for Long Range Combat, especially while on Moondancer, rumored Bow is made from Old Gods wood tree material.

Lord Lucerys “The Unjust” Rivers :   A Longsword, with a crossed guard hilt,    2 Knifes for Melee Combat and sneak attacks,  One Handed Spiked Mace Weapon.

Lord Joffrey “ The Good”  Rivers :  Bastard Sword, Long Sword as secondary weapon,  Knife as optional and side weapon,  Shield painted in all Three Colors of the Swords on House Strong’s Sigil.

[elakha-house-cube]

Hey Leaf,

(I think you're not yet aware that you're called that but let's pretend you are so we have a way to adress you? Or maybe you'll get this conviniently in the future)

Is your spear got a leaf-shaped head?

I will HC it does regardless of the answer but still curious about the canon answer.

Leaf looks at her very broken spear. "I mean, right now it doesn't have a head at all... I don't recall it being leaf-shaped before armgun racist broke it, though.

"... I should really get a new one, huh. Maybe that one will. Though the only places I can think of to get a new weapon are from Iselia or from Lloyd's dad, and Iselia seems too poor for fancy stuff like that and I don't have any money on hand to commission a fine dwarven spear. Or even an okay dwarven spear."

[greetingspathetichumans]

Date of Interrogation: 7/23/21

First name: Agrona (side note: agency doubts this is the real name considering subject’s response to the questions my look into it more)

Middle name(s): unknown 

Surname: unknown 

Age: unknown, but appears 21. according to them it's “a fun age”.

Date of birth: unknown 

Race: unknown 

Gender: unknown, agencies best guess is genderfluid and/or genderqueer 

Sexuality: unknown, according to her it's “whenever you're available”. agencies guess is pansexual 

Current residence: unknown, “beyond your pathetic human conceptions of time and space”

Relationship status: taken?

Social status: unknown

Language spoken: english

Other languages known:seems to be fluent in every language including dead ones

Style of speaking: charming and oddly collected for an interrogation, may have swayed some agents

Height: 6’3” at time of investigation 

Weight: fluxates 

Eye colour: blue with a hint of green 

Skin colour: light brown

Shape of face: triangular, almost too symmetric  

Distinguishing features: a little too sharp of teeth, eyes holding a constant sparkle of chaos 

Build of body: more toned than muscular had to stop agents from attempting to fondle the subject’s certain parts

Hair colour: pink

Hair style: long wavy curly hair

Tattoos: no noticeable tattoos 

Piercings: a couple of ear piercings, most notably a severed hand earring that looks a little too realistic 

Typical clothing: very eccentric outfits bright colors 

Illnesses (if any): may have some form of mental illness 

Allergies (if any): none

Sleeping habits: poor, yet unaffected by habits

Energy level: very high energy 

Eating habits: eats more than the average human 

Memory: excellent, knew almost all of one of our agent’s past… agent has no past with the subject 

Any unhealthy habits: during interrogation there was an alarming amount of illegal substances on their person, all looked used there was no evidence of them being affected by said substances 

Birth country:unknown

Hometown:unknown

Past places of residence: said to have stayed in Italy for around 3-6 months 

History of family: unknown 

Children: “ew”

Love interest (if there is one): sir, refused to elaborate on who this “sir” is

Peaceful or violent: seemingly peaceful for now 

Weapon (if applicable): no weapons on person 

Style of fighting: unknown

Occupation: unknown

Current home: unknown

Favourite types of food: Jamaican food. “lovely country, best food out of all places on earth i've tried”

Favourite types of drink: enjoyed the macchiato given to them during the interrogation 

Hobbies/past times: enjoys watching reality tv particularly Housewives 

Pets: “humans they do make adorable pets~” (side note: will fire agents who were turned on and into the idea we can't have that level of unprofessionalism in a room with a hot- I MEAN POTENTIALLY DANGEROUS INDIVIDUAL)

Talents: “i have a knack for getting out of *tight* spots”

Favourite colours: black, red, and gold. said it reminds them of “him”

Favourite type of music: has a love of Nicki Minaj, Cardi B, Britney Spears, Ariana Grande, various other female artists. 

[hyunlixwife]

Neolithic vs Paleolithic - Chan and Minho

This was for a history assignment lol

He told me to write a dialogue for them and I asked if it could be a fanfic and he said yes as long as it follows the guidelines.

Chan, the king of the Neolithic people, discovered agriculture and domesticated areas which let them settle down in one area. They set up homes using wood, straw, and rock. They used the straw as the roof of their homes and used the rocks to build the structure of it. They used the wood to hold up the straw roof. The homes were round, the roof was a cone shape, and there was an opening as big and as tall as a normal door that you would see today. They settled down in Salisbury Plain, UK. They built tools like an axe head that's made out of polished stone and put on a stick. They also built canoes. They used bows and arrows as weapons.

It's a normal day in the kingdom as usual, doing their everyday routines. They feed the pigs that they use to populate so they can have food and they also eat wheat that they grow. 

Minho, the leader of the Paleolithic people, were hunters and gatherers. They never stayed in one place for very long because they needed food and when their food migrated, so did they. They also moved because sometimes they would hear from their messenger that they were going to be attacked and they were coming closer. The homes they made had to be easy to build and easy to take down meaning they may have built it fast but it looked as if it would collapse at any moment. The homes were round and also had an opening as wide but not as tall as a door from today. They were made out of sticks and animal hides. They had spears and clubs as weapons, which could also be used to hunt their food. They made these spears out of sticks, stones, and bones and used cord to wrap it with. They made tools like a hammer out of the same material that is used to make their weapons. They are currently living in central Europe constantly migrating every so often.

One day their messenger tells Minho that they need to leave because they need food and the animals are migrating towards Salisbury Plains. They take down their houses, pack their things, which is very little, and start their three day move. They gather and eat berries, nuts, and fruits that they find. They collect some and save them for the journey. They eat meat from the animals they hunt. 

Three days pass and they arrive at the Salisbury Plains. They walk a bit further and they come across a village. They find out from their messenger, Seungmin, that there is a village not far from them. Minho asks Seungmin to lead the way. Maybe an hour or so later they arrive and see the nicely built city of working people. They pick a place not too far away but not too close to the city either. They gather the tools that they need to build their home and they start. Minho however took his assistant, Han with him to go see the city and who rules it. 

They walked to the entrance of the city and there were guards that asked them who they were and why they were there. They said that they wanted to see who rules this city. The guards looked at each other and nodded that it was ok to let them in after checking them for weapons in case they were lying and wanted to kill the king. The guards let a messenger know that there was a visitor and to let Chan know.

A different guard leads them to where Chan sits in his wooden and stone throne. They greet and have their assistants stand side by side in case they need them. 

“I wanted to see who's the best tribe in this land. I live for the blood of my enemies and you might be one of them, just like your poor poor father.” Minho says. Chan gets up from his throne and walks in front of him, furious, his anger raging. “So you were the one that killed my father many years ago?” Chan said to him, motioning for his assistant, Jeongin, telling him to prepare the arena so they can fight to the death. 

Chan's workers set up the arena and Minho and Chan prepare for battle, getting their weapons ready and heading to the center of the circle. They stare at each other dead in the face and Chan and Minho's tribe were there to support their leaders. 

“I am Chan Bahng and you killed my father. Prepare to die!” Chan says, stepping away, holding his bow and arrow, loaded and ready to shoot at any moment. Minho with his spear held it so it was pointed directly at Chan's chest. The announcer counted down from three and that's when the battle began. Sounds of arrows being shot and hitting the ground, the spear missing by just an inch but close enough to cut some of Chan's cloth on his shoulder. The battle goes on and they have both been hurt, Minho has been shot in his shoulder and leg, Chan was cut from the elbow down to his wrist. Both not ready to back down yet, their enemy still alive.

The sun starts to go down and they stop, neither one wanting to give up but too tired to continue. “You are a strong fighter,” Minho says. “Where did you learn how to fight like that?” Minho looks at Chan, laying down beside him. “My father taught me. But once he died, my fathers assistant continued to teach me.” Chan says, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “I think it's kind of stupid how we are meeting again and now we decide that we're going to fight. That night your father died, you could have easily killed me, but you didn't. Why?” Minho asks. “I have no idea. I guess I was too scared. I had just seen my father get murdered in front of my eyes. It all happened so fast I didn't know how to act.” Chan says regretfully, tears welling in his eyes. “I say this, how about we start over? Become the friends that we may have missed the chance to be. I know our fathers were friends but why can't we be? Forgive each other of what we may have wrongfully done to each other and start over?” Minho says, getting up, taking one of Chan's hands in his and shaking it. “I'll start. Hi Im Minho, leader of the Paleolithic people. We are here because we were about to be attacked and our food was walking away, literally.” He laughs a bit at what he said. Chan stands up, with the help from Minho, and he shakes his hand back. “Hi, I'm Chan and I'm the king of the Neolithic people. We found this land and decided to build on it. It has nice weather and great food, and plenty of water.” He says. “I hope we can be good friends.” Chan says smiling. Their assistants help them to clean and treat the wounds. Thankfully they are not severe. 

A few weeks pass and Minho and his tribe think that a couple more weeks they'll stay and then they will migrate where their food is headed. Minho has visited Chan everyday since they became friends. Talking and laughing with one another, even having meals together and teaching each other things that the other doesn't know how to do.

One morning they lay on the grass in a field looking at the clouds and talking together, the sunlight on their faces. “Minho, before you leave, I want to show you something.” Chan says as he touches the wet grass beneath them with his hand. “What is it?” He asks. “Come with me and you'll see.” Chan says with a smile on his face, standing up. Minho follows Chan and he leads them to a field of large stones. “I want to build something with you and your tribe if you're willing to help?” Chan asks. “Yes. I will.” Minho says getting Han to go and grab his tribe's strongest men and Jeongin grabs their villages strongest men.

They arrive and they start to build, stacking stones on top of stones. Just before nightfall they are done and they stand back to look at the work they made. “This will forever be here for generation after generation to find. This is a symbol of our peace with one another and our great friendship.” Chan says. “I hope we can one day tell the rest of our friends and family about this. And before you even ask , yes I will come visit you when the animals migrate back to this area.” Minho says, laughing. “I guess we just basically read each other's minds now. We should name it.” Chan says, looking at Minho for name suggestions. “The tower of stones?” Minho asks. Chan shakes his head no. “How about Stonehenge?” Minho suggests, Chan agrees. “Then it's settled. From now on our friendship is called the Stonhenge friendship.” Chan says, wrapping his arm around Minho, walking back to their own homes to sleep. 

Every year around the time the animals migrated back to Chan's place they had a yearly celebration and hung out until it was time for them to leave yet again, knowing that they'll be back next year, and every year after. 

[superman86to99]

Super Titles Round-Up (March 1994)

This month: Superboy gets knocked around, Supergirl gets disrespected, and Steel fights a dentist. Also, the JLA visits Metropolis! For two pages.

Superboy #2 (March 1994)

Superboy's a big punching bag in this issue. First, some Hawaiian mobsters shoot at him with sci-fi weapons for busting their smuggling operation and making fun of them.

Then, he's asked to protect a priceless spear supposedly belonging to a Hawaiian god called Lono, but a superpowered stripper called Knockout shows up and steals it, even though she thinks "old gods are really overrated." She also punches him a whole lot, and kisses him once... which is pretty creepy considering she's hundreds of years old (spoilers) and he's 16 (or like three months old if you wanna get technical).

Once Knockout has gotten her rocks off, she just gives the spear back to Superboy and goes away -- only for some crazy old guy in futuristic cowboy gear to materialize in front of him, sucker punch him, and re-steal the spear.

Despite everything, Superboy says he's liking Hawaii and will stick around for a while, just because his reporter crush Tana Moon lives here now (the super-statutory rapist probably helps, too).

Supergirl #2 (March 1994)

Supergirl FINALLY begins suspecting that her beloved Lex Luthor Jr. might not be the most honest guy ever after meeting a rich lady called Elizabeth Perske, who happens to be one of Lex Sr.'s ex-wives (the former Mrs. Luthors were first mentioned 8 years ago in Man of Steel #4, but it took this long for one to show up). Thanks to Perske's warnings, Supergirl decides to snoop on the LexCorp employees performing tests on her and finds out that they all think she's a pushover and a "bimbo" for doing whatever Lex says without questioning him.

Eventually, she decides to use her invisibility powers to spy on the scientist in charge of her tests and overhears him talking to poor Dr. Happersen (who's in pretty poor shape after being lasered by Bizarro in Superman #87) about something called "Operation Protomatter."

The issue ends with Supergirl confronting the scientist guy and violently demanding to know the truth behind these “tests” LexCorp has been running on her, right NOW. Meaning next issue.

Steel #2 (March 1994)

Steel's nephew Jemahl gets in trouble with his gang because they think he snitched on them to Steel, plus they're still upset about having their asses kicked by his uncle John Henry (you know, the one who looks just like Steel). Steel has to save the little punk from a robot-armed gangster who calls himself "Amalgam" -- not because he's two universes merged together, but because he's also a dentist. Seriously. Is this the only dentist supervillain?

Anyway, Amalgam mentions he's working for Steel's old bosses at Amertek during the fight, so John decides to bust their asses NOW. Meaning next issue.

Justice League America #86 (March 1994)

Superman has a brief cameo in this issue just to re-confirm to the League that he isn't re-joining the team now that he's back to life (not until they considerably upgrade the roster and creative team, anyway). But at least they get to hear him say "thanks" for helping out against Doomsday, so the trip to Metropolis wasn't totally wasted.

And... I was gonna do a blurb on the Superman: Under a Yellow Sun graphic novel that also came out on March ‘94, but after re-reading it I think it deserves its own post, so that’s it for this round up! Bye.

[casspurrjoybell-22]

Dream Eater - Chapter 10 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

My shadowy vision indicates he bows in my direction and I do the same towards him.

"Likewise, General Oran," I say, playing along for Damien's sake.

"If you'll excuse me," Oran says. "I have a speech to give."

He leaves us and the interminable mingling continues but from that point on, I notice that Damien's hand never quite leaves my arm.

The party drags on for another eon or so but like all things must, it eventually comes to an end. In our chambers, Damien helps me to bathe and change.

I've gotten pretty good at navigating familiar spaces without sight but I'm tired enough not to mind his hovering.

As he guides me to the bed and pulls the blankets back for me, I risk the proposition that's been on my mind all evening.

"Damien... I need a dream," I say, catching his hand. "Will you stay?"

I see his shape looming over me, like some dark angel.

"Are you sure? I thought my dreams were too much."

They are but they're also familiar and available.

Which, I realize, are two reasons that underlie a lot of poor choices but I make this one anyway.

"I'm sure," I say, going for levity but sounding a little desperate. "And hey, you don't even have to pay me."

He settles beside me on the bed and takes my hand.

"My dreams haven't been as bad since my memory returned," he says. "I think you've seen the worst already."

"Great. Maybe you'll dream about something mundane, like snakes or falling."

I'm not counting on it but hope springs eternal.

********

This time, the dream is from Damien's perspective.

He/I stand on a ledge over a precipice.

The sky roils with orange clouds and the landscape looks like a mountainous region of Mars.

I get the sense this is one of the lower realms.

Beside me stands a man I love and who I know I'm going to lose.

He's tall and fair and beautiful.

He looks like he's lit from within by his own star and the light of it shines from his eyes with gentle warmth.

He's dressed for battle but carries no weapon.

"Sakariel, is there nothing I can do to dissuade you? Nothing I can say to make you change your mind?" I ask.

I feel like I'd let worlds burn if it meant I could protect him.

He shakes his head and gives me a sad smile.

"No, 'Talian. The time is now. All things have their season and mine nears an end. I will make this attempt and whether it succeeds or fails, it shall be my last."

His words weigh on my heart like stones.

"I wish we had more time," I say, feeling it slip through my grasp even as I speak.

He takes my hand.

"As do I," he sighs. "'Talian, whatever happens, know that if my life were my own to give, it would belong to you."

He steps back and I see that he holds a silver horn in his hand.

Raising it to his lips, he sounds a long clear note and I feel it pierce me like a spear.

The end has begun.

The dream shifts and I stand on the top of a high tower.

The sound of battle rises from below.

Fear catches at my heart and I draw the long blade I wear at my hip, ready to fight.

Sakariel is at my back, grief in the lines of his face and the slope of his shoulders.

Oran is there as well.

"They've breached the lower levels," he tell us. "Sakariel... Azael's assassins did not gain entry without aid from within. We've been betrayed."

He slumps against the wall.

"Then it is over."

"You must escape," Oran says urgently. "Dantalian, take him and go. I will hold them off."

"I am no coward, Oran," Sakariel says. "I will not flee and leave my people to suffer in my stead."

"Damn it, Sakariel. If you won't think of yourself, then think of me," I shout. "I won't leave without you. Either we go together or we die together here."

I see his hesitation and for a moment I'm not sure which he'll choose.

Finally he nods and reaches for my hand.

There's nothing like hope in his eyes but there is love.

"Very well, 'Talian. Whatever of my life is left, it's all yours."

Oran yells at us to go.

I hold Sakariel in my arms and heart shivering with hope and fear, let the fire of the Fallen take us away.

********

I wake up with a racing heart but Damien was right.

Compared to his other dreams, that one wasn't so bad.

I feel stressed out and depressed but my energy is restored.

I blink a few times but my sight is no better than it was.

Damien's hand is still in mine and he's still asleep.

Sitting up, I consider his shadowy outline with a frown.

The stress and sorrow are already fading but another feeling remains strong.

I've always been pretty good at separating the emotions in people's dreams from my own but it's hard to experience a love like the one he had for Sakariel and not feel at least a little affection for the guy.

On impulse, I reach over and lay my hand on his chest above his heart, feeling the steady beat of it beneath my palm.

I don't remember seeing this in the dreams but I'm suddenly certain that it's something Sakariel used to do.

The feeling unnerves me and he chooses that moment to wake up. I snatch my hand back.

"Alex?" he asks, sitting up. "Is everything okay?"

The images from the dream flash through my mind and that weirdly persistent feeling pulses a little stronger.

"Yeah," I say and turn away to get up. "Everything's fine."

I meet a bunch of people over the next several days, most of whose names I fail to remember.

Apparently, they're what's left of Sakariel's closest allies in this realm. 

Maybe it's the fact I know it was an ally of some sort that betrayed him but I don't like any of them very much.

The feeling seems mutual.

I catch more than a few whispered arguments about 'unclean souls' and 'demonic pollution' and by lunchtime on the third day, I've had enough.

"Damien, why are you making me meet these people?" I ask. "They clearly don't want to meet me."

"They do," Damien assures me. "Heavenly Keys are rare and usually aeons pass between one occurrence and the next. To have found even a piece of one gives them hope."

"Well, don't let them get their hopes up too much, because I'm no hero or leader or whatever-the-fuck your dead angel was. I'm demon trash and as soon as I get the opportunity, I'm out of here."

He doesn't say anything for a moment.

When he goes on, it's with the patient air of a parent dealing with a cranky child.

"We need their protection, Alex. We might have asylum here for now but things change. The knowledge that you carry part of a Key will incline them to our favor."

"So you're using me?" I ask and contemplate exactly how angry I should feel.

He sighs.

"Let's go out. I know your vision hasn't completely returned but the fresh air will do us both good."

I consider being difficult for the hell of it but then decide that a walk actually sounds nice.

We wander the city streets and while I can't see clearly, my vision has improved enough that the world looks kind of like an Impressionist painting.

I can see colors, shapes, shades of dark and light.

The sounds and smells are interesting in their own right and I make Damien stop and describe stuff to me almost constantly.

I gather that the city is a strange mix of ancient and modern.

There are something like electric lights but everyone goes about either on foot or by the boats in the canals.

The economy is based on a form of credit calculated according to a person's station and the shops range from street vendors to what amount to high-end boutiques.

Damien buys me some sort of pastry with the credit Allannan gave him and I nibble at it as we walk back across one of the great bridges spanning a wide canal.

We're about halfway across when Damien stops short.

"What is it?" I ask.

"I thought I saw... someone I know," he says, sounding odd.

"Alex, wait here. I'll be back in a minute."

"Hey. Don't just..." but he's already gone... "Leave me here," I finish with a sigh.

The bridge has a low stone railing along its edge and I sit on it while I wait, wondering if I could find my way back on my own if Damien forgets me here.

I watch the indistinct shapes of people passing back and forth and listen to the persistent background noises of the city's life. 

[casspurrjoybell-25]

The Healer of Shakkara - Book One

*Warning Adult Content*

Chapter 16 - Boars - Part 1

A snuffling grunt woke Galen from a sound sleep.

In the blue-gray light of pre-dawn, he could just make out the shapes of things and saw that his companions still slept.

Their bedrolls lay grouped about the ashes of the fire and all was still.

One bed was empty but Galen expected this, as they had set a guard and decided on shifts the night before.

Oberik had taken the first watch.

A second soft snuffle emanated from Behn's bedroll and Galen smiled, remembering a childish argument they'd once had over whether Behn snored.

He closed his eyes, intending to get a few more hours' sleep, when a much louder and quite different snuffle had him sitting bolt upright.

It had come from beyond the edge of camp and in the dim gloom, he could just make out a shape moving among the scraggly trees.

Correction... shapes.

At least a dozen large boars rooted about in the area where they had dumped the washing water and food scraps the night before and they were getting closer.

Galen glanced around.

Surely, this was cause for alarm and yet no alarm had been given.

He saw the explanation in the form of Obi, who sat slumped fast asleep with his back against a tree.

Not sure if shouting would attract the boars or drive them off, Galen rose silently, went to where Sev lay and softly called his name.

Sev sat up immediately, knife in hand and Galen was glad he hadn't tried a more direct approach.

"Galen?" Sev frowned and sheathed his knife.

"What's wrong?"

Galen raised a finger to his lips and pointed.

Sev followed his line of sight, went still and swore.

Then he swept the camp with his eyes, saw Obi and swore again.

"Help me wake the rest," he said.

"Quietly, as you did me. If the boars think there's food here, they'll see this as their territory and they don't take kindly to intruders."

Galen nodded and went first to Triss and Behn, who he at least knew wouldn't murder him for waking them up unexpectedly.

Within minutes, everyone was up, bedrolls packed, boots laced and belongings collected.

The boars remained occupied with the refuse but a few wandered closer.

Fortunately, their eyesight was poor and they seemed unaware of the travelers.

"Damned nosey beggars," Iksy muttered.

"We're lucky they didn't scent the packs."

"We're downwind of them," Sev whispered as they moved off as quietly as they could.

"They must have come upon the scraps by chance."

Sev moved with Galen to the front of the group, while Rea and Triss readied their bows and brought up the rear.

Only the luckiest of shots could bring down a boar but arrows were the only long-range weapons they had and swords were not designed for such beasts.

Boar-hunting spears had special crossbars above the blade, for without them a wounded boar might push itself right up the shaft to get to the hunter in its rage.

They moved as quickly as they dared and were nearly clear of the trees, when a monstrous boar, half the size of a horse, trundled from the brush ahead of them and blocked their path.

Its bristles were black and its mean little eyes had a strange, reddish tint.

It grunted and clacked its tusks at them, snout twitching as it caught their scent.

"What do we do?" Iskthanis asked quietly.

"Throw it some food?"

Sev shook his head.

"I doubt that would work."

He glanced at the scraggly trees but the thickest branches were too low to offer protection and those higher up were too thin to hold their weight.

"They usually don't attack unless cornered or threatened. Perhaps if we move off the trail... we might..."

With a squeal of rage, the boar charged straight at them.

Fear seized Galen's heart and he froze.

Then Sev shoved him hard to the side and he fell sprawled in the rough grass as the beast rushed past with a gust of foul-smelling wind.

"Scatter," Sev yelled to the others as he pulled Galen back to his feet.

"It can't make quick turns."

The others obeyed, darting off among the trees and Sev shoved Galen towards the trail.

The gigantic boar turned again, tossing its ugly head and giving another squealing growl.

As it pawed the ground, Galen had a horrible thought and stopped in his tracks.

Behn had nearly all the food and Behn was not a fast runner.

"Behn," Galen said, pointing to where Iksthanis was just then helping the other boy up from a fall.

"He can't run with that giant pack."

"Iksy has him... worry about yourself."

"But Behn has the food."

"It's not after the food," Sev shouted, shaking him.

"It's after..."

The boar charged again... not at Behn but at Galen.

Arrows flew from two bows and struck the boar's head and sides but missed the eyes and failed to penetrate a vital spot.

Sev stepped in front of Galen, drew his sword and ran directly at the boar.

Galen watched in horror as man and beast rushed towards a deadly collision.

There was nothing he could do and while Sev was undoubtedly a talented swordsman, the boar would toss him aside like a leaf in the wind.

Then Galen gasped.

Three paces from the charging boar, Sev leaped high in the air and spun, turning upside down as the beast rushed beneath him, his sword flashing in a sweeping arc.

He landed on his feet in a low crouch on the boar's other side but the boar charged on, straight for Galen.

And then its head fell off. 

Its body crashed to the ground in a spray of dirt and blood, sliding to a halt not two paces from Galen's feet.

He stared as blood burbled from the stump of its neck, pooling on the ground, then raised his eyes to where Sev still knelt, leaning on his sword.

Slowly, Sev rose and turned and his eyes shone with a pale blue light.

As he drew near, careful to avoid the blood, Galen saw the veins in his face and hands were visible beneath the skin, lite with the same phosphorescent glow.

He reached down and pulled Galen to his feet again.

"I told you to run," he rasped.

He looked tired and his expression was strangely blank.

"What are you?" Galen whispered, half in fear and half in awe.

"I've never seen anyone fight like that."

"I am a Hand," Sev answered.

"That is all you need to know."

Galen swallowed, looking past him to the dead boar.

"You could have been killed."

"It does not matter if I am killed," Sev said.

There was a cold edge to his voice that made Galen look at him again.

The light in his eyes and beneath his skin quickly faded and Galen wondered if he'd imagined it.

"It does not matter if the others die, either. Only your life matters now. Try to remember that next time."

Triss and Rea joined them with their bows at the ready but then relaxed when they saw the boar was already very dead.

Triss gaped at the headless beast but Rea's attention was on Sev.

She watched him with a strangely unhappy expression.

"That was reckless," she said.

"It was necessary," he replied, wiping his sword clean with a clump of dry grass before re-sheathing it.

"Was it? We might have driven it off with a few more volleys."

Sev shook his head.

"I don't think so, Rea. But never mind that now. Done is done. And believe me... no one knows the risks better than I."

The snuffling grunts of the other pigs sounded from the brush and Sev nodded back towards the trail.

"Come... let's leave them to their feast. At least they'll be too sated to follow us, now."

"They eat their own kind?" Galen asked, appalled.

"They eat anything they can find," Rea said.

Back on the trail, they regrouped.

Behn was shaky and out of breath but otherwise unharmed and once they'd put some distance between themselves and the boars, they paused briefly and distributed the food more evenly between the packs.

That way, if they lost one, they would not lose all.

[pr1ncesspopstar]

Sole Heir - FFXIV Write 2023 - Day 27: Heir

Warning: Graphic Violent Imagery and Familial Abuse Depicted

Ao3

-

The dummies fell to pieces in seconds beneath the weight of the mighty great sword. More a chunk of metal meant to crush than a blade meant to clear as a blow made the wood of the false soldier creak and crackle for mercy. There would be none. The weapon raised again with a single heavy hand and brought it down with extreme prejudice. All that remained was a pile of splinters and smashed rivets of metal that once held everything into the vague human shape it once possessed.

Snoebryda just tilted her head. Her neck loudly cracked, sending a small rush of relief coursing through her stiff shoulders. It was mid-winter, snow softly falling in fat, fluffy clumps that would slowly build into inches of snow once the sun came down. Most of the other trainers around her had thick, quilted shirts beneath their armor to ward away the fridge bite of winter. The princess had no armor nor outer layers, stripped to a simple shirt and trousers. Even her feet were not safe, wearing boots that seemed like they had not been changed in nearly a decade, all too small for the towering woman’s feet. She could just endure the chills by moving, keeping her blood warm and sweat dripping.

“What’s wrong, Princess?! Can’t take on a foe unless he’s down?!” a cruel, foolish voice echoed across the courtyard. She stopped wailing on broken dummies to turn her head slowly in hopes the heckler would have time to hide himself. He didn’t, of course, standing proudly in the open, a merchant’s sim that freshly joined the ranks, if she remembered right.

Behind him, Cwinleita leaned against the wall. Her lips spread into that vicious, demanding smile that made Snoebryda’s stomach sink. Poor boy had just had his fate decided.

“Duel me.” Was all she said back. She left her long, wild red hair cast a shadow over her face as she turned towards the rookie. Dragging her feet across the slushy ground, hoping something could stop her from doing this. The soldier just stood there, dumbfounded as the princess approached, before she towered before him. “Duel me, and you can see how well I can handle myself against an opponent.”

Before the boy could back out, Cwinleita swept in, giving the boy a hearty pat on the back. “You should accept, you know. It would be a shame to waste this valuable opportunity, a duel at the request of the princess.” The captain spoke with sweetness, all her venom hidden behind the facade of a caring superior, dooming this greenhorn. She nodded and faced Snoebryda with a cocky grin.

“I’ll try not to rough you up too hard, Your Highness.” He scoffed. Snowbryda couldn’t bring herself to respond, just turning away to grab her weapon before the grimace on her face could be noticed.

After mulling over the choices, she opted for her ‘knuckles.’ They were more like gauntlets. Heavy, dull-spiked fists that easily weighed twenty or thirty pounds. A mercy, compared to the polished spear or swords she often threw her weight around with. She was so unskilled with these, she hoped that would spare her opponent some injury. Some of the other new soldiers gathered to watch, hooting and hollering for either fighter. Others watched, but with lips tight pressed and eyes heavy with burden. Others refused to turn their heads from their training. Those were the smartest. They knew what was coming, and didn’t need to witness any more.

The knight used a shield and a sword, but neither would protect him. Snoebryda just stood in wait, feeling the snow wreath itself into her red tresses as Cwinleita stepped in to stand as the referee. She raised her hand. Everything around the young woman was vibrating, already blurring into shapeless bits of color and motions.

“Begin!”

The glove dropped. It was over before it even began.

She knocked both his weapons to the ground with a single sweep of her fist. That would be the end for most of these sorts of fights, but not for Snoebryda. Not when that sadistic captain’s eyes bore into the back of her skull, that grin stretched across her haunting white teeth in want of a show. One she had no choice to give, else the consequences-

The princess swallowed back bile at the thought, and struck. A swift uppercut to the boy’s lower jaw, gashes blossoming into lovely petals of blood as his eyes glazed with the shock of the hit. Still not enough. She straddled his body, full weight making him wheeze as he looked up at her. The smell of fear was acidic and vile, ammonia and iron to her nose. His eyes watered as he choked and struggled to speak, blood and a little spit dribbling from his mouth. He quivered as a boy who had never known fear as she bore down on him. If all was silent, she wouldn’t know, as her heartbeat was too loud to hear.

“P-Please-”

She clenched her hands together and slammed the gauntlets into his face. The cartilage stretched before crumpling, blood quick to gush and fill the crevices in her weapons. She needed to stop that before it began, else she’d hesitate. Her ears rang as she just… did. The vibrations of his voice, his screams vibrated through the metal, but that only pushed her to hit harder. To blot out the noise before he could give her nightmares. Without glasses, everything was just a mess of colors, slowly dyed red as blood splattered and soaked all her gauntlets came in contact with. It was a mercy, is what she told herself.

It’s what she had to tell herself.

She blinked and suddenly she was thrown off into the snow, her back drenched in wet. The sounds echoed in as the ringing faded. Her eyes locked skyward into the dark gray cloud. She heard the screams of a doctor. Gagging, prayers, and a distinct shout of a destroyed eye. In contrast to the wet chill on her back, her front was warm. Blood was always so sticky on her skin, staining her white flesh as vibrant as the snow. She must have looked like a ghost rising from the frozen earth, as icy looking as the Aerslaent winter could get.

“Excellent work, Snoebryda!” Cwinleita’s cackle was an arrow hitting her in the back, dragging her down to earth after the adrenaline was high. She could feel every heartbeat, hear even the breathing of the farthest off soldier in the training ground. Each layer of skin, and hair, and fluids sent signals of every nerve she had, making her sick with sensation. The captain pounded her fist on the princess’ back, leaving a bruise in con congratulations. “You’re done for the day. Go rest, you earned it.”

She didn’t want to leave. Snoebryda wanted to stay, to help to boy as they loaded him onto a stretcher, to apologize and beg forgiveness. But to go against Cwinleita would have done her no favors, and the eyes of the other recruits were already turning back in her direction. Sharp, dagger-like stares that made her throat tighten with shame. She turned and left, before she’d be forced to make any more enemies today.

Her room wasn’t even the solace it should have been, locks long removed on the door. She threw off her clothes and drifted into the bathroom. Steam and scalding water were a relief to her aching bones and body. She happily endured the pain of near boiling water in contrast to the freeze she’d endured since morning. The blood flowed off in a steady wave, soon the only mark of her brutality earlier being the bruise on her back. She stayed beneath the stream, sitting on the stone floor until her head swam from the heat.

It wasn’t long after she dried herself and slipped into a dress did a maid enter. Bowing her head and giving a deep curtsy, she delivered the most dour news. “Dinner is ready. His Majesty will join you this night.”

“Understood. Excused.” She tried not to speak too coldly to the woman, but it was hard for Snoebryda to muster any energy to hide her bitterness, her exhaustion after such a day. All she wanted was for it to be over. So she hurried out the door and to the dining room. Any one making a wide berth of the ‘mad heirs’ path.

The personal dining chamber of the Rogankoan’s family was still massive by comparison to the family dining rooms Snoebryda had seen in books. It could easily fit thirty people, once a grand hall meant to be shared amongst siblings and cousins and nieces and nephews. Now only two strangers shared food over the table. Yet the king still sat at the head of the table, gorging on food as if he had rich company all around. The red-haired child moved near silent to her seat at his left, staring at the meager play she had to fill with her dinner.

“Snoebryda,” her father greeted, his voice like a dying toad’s croak. He’d grown older and wider over time, easily filling the seat of his throne. “Cwinleita told me you got into a fight while training.”

“A beginner knight dared to speak ill of me, so we dueled and settled the matter with a test of strength.” She lied, as she had learned to do. Her father didn’t stop eating, ripping the meat from bird bones, grease dripping down his heavy fingers. She kept her eyes squarely on her empty plate as the sound made her curl her fingers into her legs in disgust. “If he speaks ill again, he won’t be able to speak anymore.”

“If that’s a worry you have, you should have dealt with it. The idea alone warrants such caution.” His scolding was a quick lash, nothing she flinched at anymore, but added to the weight balancing on her shoulders. Less and less the food in front of her seemed appetizing with her father right there. But going a night without food would make training the next day worse. She grabbed a little of everything and shoveled it into her mouth before she could think too hard about it.

“Honestly, I don’t have a clue what to do with you anymore… you fail at even the most basic of things a ruler should know.” He filled himself with a hefty glass of Garlean wine, the scent of sour grapes wafting from the goblet. “At least that needn’t be a concern for much longer.”

“… What do you mean by that, Father?” Snoebryda asked, lowering her fork from her mouth. Her stomach was too twisted to manage anymore, some sense of wrongness filling the air.

“I met with a Garlean ambassador today, is all.” He said it nonchalantly, as if he’d been visited by an old friend instead of the conquerors their ancestors had sworn their nation’s fealty and loyalty. “And as vassals of the empire, they appreciate our kingdom’s aid and devotion in the form of soldiers. But they think a better bond could be forged. So we’ve planned to have you sent to Garlemald to meet with some high-ranking military and noble families to find a husband.”

Snoebryda took a long time to process his words. Pouring over them thrice in her mind to make sure she heard right. It was difficult to describe the instant rush of emotions that coursed through her body. She couldn’t tell if it was rage or panic that made her fingers shake, sadness or fury that threatened to block up her throat. All of it melded into one swirl of colors so intense she nearly whited out. She stayed awake, thankfully, swallowing everything down before she spoke. “I don’t understand. That- I wouldn’t be able to rule.”

“A shame, but for the best, really. Try everything we may. You don’t have the strength to manage the throne on your own. If we’re lucky, your husband will have a better eye for such things and I can name him my heir.”

His words left her feeling naught but cold, more frozen than the snow that fell just outside the window. Her fury morphed and changed, flickering between hot and icy. That weight on her shoulders cracked. She had long stopped counting the days, the years of this painful regime her father called ‘training.’ Snoebryda endured the pain, the judgment, the sleepless nights and social demand. She was as educated as she was strong, no matter how often the word ‘weak’ was flung at her and made her feel the need to collapse in. The princess had played nice with sloppy boys and stupid old fools that populated his parties, and beaten peoples as close to death as she could get away with hiding the bleeding heart that still aches in her chest over every cruel act she witnessed in these castle walls.

All deemed worthless. More than half her life, a failure, some stranger would need to pick up the slack for once he got her status of heir to the throne.

“No.”

“Hm?”

She looked her father in the eyes. They were shadowed under his heavy brow, lightless and cold. Snoebryda had long avoided looking too close in a mirror for fear her eyes would look so close to his.

“I refuse to concede my status as the sole heir to some Garlemald fool.” It took far too much of her strength not to cuss, but it was heard in her tone. One her father clearly didn’t appreciate as he wiped his hands clean, the signet ring that declared him as king flashing bright on his finger.

“Don’t you dare raise your voice to me!”

He instantly devolved into shouting, his voice reaching across the room and bouncing right back at her. All too quick her throat swelled shut, fight nor flight saving her as the man slammed his fist into the table, rattling everything.

“You believe my word is to be tested?! Your knowledge exceeds mine?! You are nothing! You have always been a pathetic, sniveling coward of a child! I tried to give you a chance, and you failed! Why can’t you accept that this was your doing alone, and this is the route by which I grant you the mercy of being useful to this kingdom’s future? To ensure at least we keep our blood on the throne! Would you rather I throw you out?!” 

He went on and on, but after a certain point, Snoebryda couldn’t register them anymore. He could not be as loud as her thoughts. Racing, rushing. Long had her mind been silent whenever the fury of her father arose, but now it served only as fuel to her fire. Let him rage, let him seethe. But she would not endure any more. At least, not without a plan.

“Forgive me, Father.” Snoe buoyed her head low, a sign of reverence to her sire. The act stopped him dead in his tracks, huffing in shock. She continued, “I was in shock, and spoke too hastily. I hope you can forgive such disrespect.”

Each word was practiced and familiar, several of many canned phrases she had stored in her head. He was silent for a long time before snapping. “Return to your room.”

As cold as it was, it was a small sign to Snoebryda the false reverence worked. She quickly took her leave, head held high as she walked with purpose, already plotting paths around her.

If all she had endured was to amount to being a prize gifted to some man and shoved out of the spotlight, she’d give her father exactly what he wished for. She would leave, and no one would remain with a proper claim to the Aerslaent throne.

Snoebryda Rogankoanwyb would disappear, taking her ‘weakness’ and all that entailed. While a dangerous thought, it was one that filled her with glee yet. For it meant freedom, finally getting to see a world beyond the castle walls.

[kanbathecucumber]

Brokenness Monstrosity - Episode 9 - "Preparations Before A Far Long Journey"

DISCLAIMER: It won't happen here but the from now the next episodes will begin showing blood, gore, and that's pretty much it other than violence rage, killing, and well... this is a war so I'll be making a battling between two races. So don't think this is only something you should just be aware of, because you should, I'm telling you this as a warning for viewer's and audience's issuing considers. If you don't like what you see, please by all means, leave now. I'll probably rate this to 15+ or lesser due to poor art designs but if you get the whole meaning behind the reasons the art displayed here for you then thanks for understanding. You have been warned.

When we remember to pass along the forest that divides the landscapes, it tells a tale. One that shouldn't or should be forgotten is the thought from others that either heard about it or experienced it. Well THIS DOES take back memories.. oh yeah the war times. Before the monster's lived beneath the very grounds we humans walk upon and we're already surfaced. But at all endings to a tale, there's gotta be twisting cords!

•

•

Both (small appearance displayed but I've tried to make it like armies) armies going head to head with one another for "The Battle of Mountains" which will lead to the decisions of the soldier's that enlisted whether they could've talked it out? Like c'mon, you really think a time like this for hundreds, thousands of warriors and barbarians to settle down a drink with a cup of conversational topics? You do the thinking.

•

Let's begin with the "Humanity's Best Chance" division.

•

The forces we have here are strategic thinking and tactical, probably.. the humans back were well armed, as the difference between them and the other side, they didn't have much magical experience and or material from it.. but instead, they've seen that magic wasn't always greatly worth of what they thought.

Weapons:

Guns, spears, swords, ranged weapons, armor, shields, and flagged carrier.

Note: The people we saw during the forest watch were the one's that helped crafted these things for the army, they were eternally grateful due to welding arms.

•

But enough about that side, of course we moved on to the opposite side that just doesn't seem to like what they're doing. On their turfs? C'mon don't make me recreate something like Columbus did to the n- nvm..

•

As now the monsters are getting ready for an enemy event, let's see what they have in store for us that can turn the tide of an ever-growing anger in war.

•

The division this will be titled as "For All Of MonsterKind" for "The Battle of Mountains" that also reminds me where the monster's magic really shaped their ways of life, how precious it was, how useful it is, how determined to captured it from them... at least that's what the humans were thinking but that didn't mean they were also magical essentials, it just was popular at the time and people wanted more to be shown. But of course monster didn't always rely on magic when weapons can also benefit the species defensiveness.

Note: I'm not gonna go through what they weld or what power they hold, it's all going to be demonstrated in the battlefield.

•

Until then that would be our end of discussion from here, next time, it'll be all bets.

HUMANITY

VS

MONSTERKIND

[i-cant-sing]

Baby Fushigoro would totaly try to eat the fishes in the sea. She tries to catch the fishes in those beach toys and when she gets it she runs to the uncle screaming like ' Uncle! I got lunch!'

Naoya had changed her into her hello kitty bathing suit, covered her in enough sunscreen to make her look like Casper the ghost and told her that she can play but stay close to the shore, just in his line of sight.

He sits down on the pool chair and opens up a beer, internally awing at how adorable you looked in those sparkly red, heart shaped sunglasses. You're busy making a sandcastle when you run back to Naoya.

"What?" He asked, pushing his own shades down to look at you.

You looked at him with a smile. "Do you know how to fish?"

"Why?"

"I wanna eat fish."

"The chef is preparing some he already has-"

"No, I want fresh fish! The ones you catch!"

Naoya scoffed before taking a sip of his beer. "No. That's too much trouble and I'm on vacation."

"You're only saying that because you don't know how to fish, aren't you?" Yes, even the youngest of the Zenin clan knew reverse psychology always worked on Naoya.

The man gave you sharp look. "You're the only one here who doesn't know how to fish, since you know, you were poor. Lucky for you, you have me to teach you fishing. Come along, poverty child. I'll show you just how easy it is to fish!"

But with his luck, Naoya isn't able to catch a singe fish. So when he feels the reader's eyes on him, his immediate strategy is to place the blame on the bait/fishing rod, claiming that he does better with a spear. He tells you to stay put while he goes and gets the spear from the weapon room.

But when he comes back, his jaw hits the floor as he sees baby reader holding a salmon that is half her size, flapping about in her tiny arms while she laughs, saying "it tickles, Mr Fish! Stop it!" And as soon as she spots Naoya, she's running towards him with this giant ass fish in still flapping about, almost tripping and falling face first, but you manage.

"You're right, Uncle Naoya! Fishing is easy!"

"You- you caught a salmon, with your bare hands?"

"Oh this is a salmon? Well what's that other one called that I put in the bucket?" You said, pointing to your little sand bucket.

Naoya peeks at it and his eyes widen. "YOU CAUGHT AN EEL?! Y/N ARE YOU OKAY?"

You were confused why he was checking you for injuries. "Yes, why wouldn't I be? I mean, it buzzed a little but it calmed down when I petted it! Its so cute!"

Naoya thinks he's gonna have a heart attack. That buzz you're talking about- its electrical current! He's just silently thanking whatever cursed energy you have that protected you.

"I'll go catch more fish for dinner too-" "NO! STRICTLY FORBIDDEN FROM GOING TO THE WATERS NOW!"

You pouted, not understanding why he was stopping you.

Maybe he's just jelly. Oh! Jelly Fish! Maybe you'll find one after you sneak after your room at night. Hehe.

[mecthology]

Bake-kujira from Japanese folklore.

In the old days, when whales were still plentiful in the Sea of Japan, a whale sighting was a blessing for the residents of a poor fishing village. A village could reap huge amounts of wealth from the meat and oil in a single whale. Such a bounty did not come without a price, however, and many fishermen claim that the souls of these whales live on as bakekujira, seeking revenge against the humans who took their lives. Those who witness a bakekujira are infected with its horrible curse, which they bring back to their villages when they return home. The whale’s curse brings famine, plague, fires, and other kinds of disasters to the villages it hits.

One story goes, one rainy night long ago, some fishers living on the Shimane peninsula witnessed an enormous white shape off the coast in the Sea of Japan. It appeared to them to be a whale swimming offshore. Excited for the catch, they rallied the townspeople, who grabbed their spears and harpoons and took to their boats to hunt down and catch their quarry.

They soon reached the whale, but no matter how many times they hurled their weapons, not one of them struck true. When they looked closer, through the dark, rain-spattered water’s surface, they realized why: what they thought was a white whale was actually a humongous skeleton swimming in the sea, not a single bit of flesh on its entire body.

At that very moment, the sea became alive with a host strange fish that nobody had ever seen before, and the sky swarmed full of eerie birds which nobody could recognize and the likes of which had never been seen before. The ghost whale then turned sharply out to sea, and swiftly vanished into the current, taking all the strange fish and birds with it, never to be seen again.

The terrified villagers returned home, realizing that the skeletal whale must have the ghost of a whale turned into a vengeful ghost. While the ghost whale was never seen again, other villages in Shimane felt the whale’s curse, being consumed by conflagrations and plagued by infectious diseases following whale beachings.

Follow @mecthology for more folklore and stories. DM for pic credit or removal. https://www.instagram.com/p/CapdGzypttZ/?utm_medium=tumblr

[silentwonderlocks]

Enchant Me *Loki x Reader* Chapter 1

I wrote this for fun, so please enjoy. I do plan on making this a short little story. The beginning takes place before Loki evades New York, then progress with Ragnarok, Infinity War and Endgame but Loki lives  Warning: Mentions of torture, Thanos being a d*ck.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Words: 2767 

It was a peaceful day like no other if it weren’t for the constant screams with loud booming explosions following behind. The bright green grass of the land now scorned with fire and destruction. The clear sky was filled with dark clouds, big metal weapons of mayhem that floated in the air right above the city. You watched as people scattered looking for a means of safety but met with pain.  

The loud ringing in your ears made it hard for you to hear your own screams as you searched for your parents. You ran around fighting through anyone that tried to stop you or pull you to safety, but you did not care. You were just a child, scared for her parents rather than for her own life. You ran past dead bodies, craters in the ground searching for anyone that might have looked like your parents but you found no one.

‘Mother! Father! Where are you!” You called out in the midst of the smoke, seeing the invading army rounding up what was left of your people. Without thinking, you ran into the maw of the beast. In the rows of the people together, you called out again and again until one of the soldiers dawned in gold and black armor harshly grabbed your arm. The soldier cursed at you to keep quiet and threw you to the ground making you cry out in pain. 

He sneered with pleasure at your pain, lifting up his spear ready to plunge into your body, that is until he saw your eyes change color from Y/c’s to lavender color with cat-like slits. You bellowed out a high pitch scream at the soldier knocking him far back, not wasting another moment. You got up and began to run until a giant man with light purple skin stared down at you. His golden armor told you he had to be the leader of the army. 

“Oh little one, what’s the matter?” He asks, looking down at your small frame. You were covered in dirt, bruises and blood that wasn’t yours. 

“my...parents..I need to find them..” You spoke with heavy breaths preparing yourself to fight once more. The man chuckled softly but amused. “Such determination...come with me little one.” With those words, he held out his huge hand waiting for your little one in his. 

You stared at him hearing the screams of your people suddenly stop. 

“We’ll use that potential of yours for a great purpose” He spoke proudly as if he had a grand plan already in the works.

With no parents, no home, and no planet, you did the only thing you could do and that was accept the deal with the devil himself.

That was nearly 18 years ago when your home Aciilnt was invaded by the mad-titan, Thanos. He wiped out nearly the whole population and took you as his adopted daughter. Your home planet was like any other planet in the galaxy, beautiful, full of life and culture with dark history. There were two main people that lived on Aciilnt, the Sirens and the Aciilntians. 

The Sirens proudly lived in the lakes and oceans nearby where they learned water magic, shape shifting abilities and their trance like singing. On the other hand, Aciinltians were the complete opposite. Proud and honorable people, who trained their young to either be great warriors or hard working farmers.

 The war between the Siren people and the Aciilntians was the most common knowledge on your planet. The two species used to live in peace until the Siren people were deemed dangerous by the Aciint’s government after an unstable Siren attacked local people during a celebration. They feared the mind controlling power of the siren’s singing The Siren people were given two options, have their vocal cords removed leaving them mute or be banished from the planet. 

Many chose to have their vocal cords removed to try and have a normal life while the rest of the Sirens chose to be banished rather than give up their dignity.  Soon enough, the government began to purge for sirens who still had their powers, fresh born were killed and those who were caught were sentenced to life as a slave for the wealthy. 

Your mother happened to be one of the Sirens that chose to stay on Aciinlt and fell in love with your father, a simple but honest man. Together they had you, the perfect siren and Aciintian hybrid. Your parents were terrified because they knew if the government found out, then you would be killed. So your mother birthed you in secret and once you were old enough to learn how to do simple things at a young age. She taught you to change your eyes so you would blend in with everyone. You almost got away with it until that soldier had forced you to expose yourself and now here you were on Thanos’s ship as one of his many adopted children.

 Since you were brought upon the ship, you were taught to fight and learn how to use your powers to serve your stepfather along with your adopted siblings.You had mastered your singing to put foes in a trance then make them do your bidding, You were now able to change your small appearance to help blend in for certain mission, and your water magic was terrifying yet powerful. 

Out of all the siblings, Gamora and Nebula were the two that you got along with. Gamora had already been on the ship for a few years when you first met her, she was cold and distant with you at first. She wasn’t used to having someone near her age, and to top it off someone with powers as yours. She didn’t want to be near you. The only time she would be near you was in your room that you shared, when you ate together, and when you fought with her when your father wanted to test your skills. 

You both were equally skilled so it was mostly a tie between you two.  After a year of being together on the ship, Gamora had gotten into a fight with Thanos and came to the room in a fit breaking things, ranting about how much she hated her life and she hated Thanos. Instead of turning her away like she had done to you, you had decided to show her some sympathy. You told her about your hatred, you told her about the day you lost your life to the mad- titan and you also told her that she made you feel like you weren’t alone even if she didn’t like her. You were happy to have someone to suffer with. Gamora soon after that warmed up to you, then Nebula came along. 

Nebula was a different story, she hated all of her siblings and wasn’t trying to make bonds with anyone. She was devoted to her father so much, and was willing to do anything to make him proud. So when it came to you and Gamora, she despised you both and wanted to prove she was the superior daughter. Her hatred grew deeper when she would be challenged against the two of you and always lose, resulting in Thanos adding upgrades to help her improve. By the time the three of you were in your teen years, Nebula had almost lost most of her right side becoming half cyborg. 

You honestly hated hearing her screams of torture when Thanos worked on her so you would ask your father for permission if you could be with her to try and give her comfort and support. He denied every time saying that it was Nebula’s punishment for being weak so she needed to accept her pain. So one day Nebula finally won a battle against you because you had let her win and you took your punishment instead which was a scolding from your father.

 It took a lot more time for Nebula to warm up to you and when she did, you were happy to have two sisters. One you could talk to and one you could spar with. The three of you were unstoppable, the assassin daughters of the mad titan warlord Thanos. 

Now here you were standing in your room, staring out into the void of space relieving your memories of your old life. You hated Thanos, you hated your life, you hated what you had become and you wanted to run but that would take time to plan and units. So you decided to wait for the perfect moment to betray your father and escape away.  

You glanced at your reflection, your lavender eyes piercing back at you, your hair was neatly in a crown braid, the black strapless corset with black tight pants and a purple jacket that fitted around your body felt weird. Your father told you that today was a special day for you to wear something nice. He was supposed to have a meeting with someone to help him find something he called The Infinity Stones. You wondered about this stranger and couldn’t help but scoff to yourself, the poor guy didn’t know what mess he or she would be getting into. 

“Sister, are you ready?” Gamora asks, standing in the doorway with her long ombre hair done up neatly like yours. Her outfit is similar to yours but with a red corset and a black jacket instead. 

You sigh, turning yourself away from the window to stare back at Gamora. 

“Of course sister, come we mustn’t keep father waiting” You responded with ice in your tone as you said the word father. Gamora knew and shared your hatred as well so she just nodded and began to walk down the hallway to the meeting room. You followed her out watching her walk in front of you. As you passed by several training and torture rooms, you knew that you would not miss this place. Your sisters, you would dearly miss but then again they were not your real siblings. Putting your thoughts away, you caught up to Gamora  walking by her side. 

“Nebula is there with father?” You ask first, keeping your eyes ahead. “Ready and waiting, you know she’s gonna scold us later for not being good daughters” Gamora responded, stopping in front of a large door with alien language encrypted on to it.  You nodded to your sister that you were ready and the door opened letting a bright blue light emerge. Inside the room was a large  grey chair in the center of the floor that was twice the size of you and your siblings. Your father proudly sat upon it dressed in his infamous golden amour with your sister, Nebula by his left side waiting. A golden specter in his hand with a bright blue stone in between the two pongs. She sneered at the two of you for making your father wait but before making sure to keep herself in check. 

“Ah..my daughters, finally you grace us with your presence” Thanos began as he held out his hands for you and your sister. Gamora stepped first, letting Thanos lead her to his right side then you stepped up letting your father lead you next to Nebula. Now facing the direction that your father was, you now took full notice of the man in front of you.  

The man was tall, he had to be about 6 ft and over, his black, green and gold leather clothing told you that he was royalty. He was a handsome man with sharp cheekbones, ebony shoulder length hair that was slicked back. His eyes were a deep emerald green that seemed to pierce through your soul.

 His demeanor was something you’ve never seen or felt before. It felt terrifying but sad? It confused you to your core of why this man was intriguing you so. You felt his eyes on you as well, taking in your form. He studied you as you did him, since you knew this would not be the last time you saw him. “Now. Speak of your ambition.” Thanos began making the man’s eyes switch to him. 

“I am Loki of Asgard, or better known as the God of Mischief. I am burdened with a glorious purpose to achieve my rightful place as king! I have come in need of an army” His voice..was alluring and confident. The accent in his voice was deep and a bit husky. The way he spoke, told you that he was determined to get what he desired. 

Thanos smiled and began to hum as he straightened himself in his chair. 

“Glorious purpose? We all have a purpose...a destiny to fulfill. It all arrives the same, the question is what will you do for me? You offer me nothing for my services.”

“I offer you Earth and all of it’s worms that they call their people. I offer you their blood, their screams.” The man called Loki responded with a slight tone of desperation. 

Your father stayed silent for a moment. “Perhaps we can come to an alliance.On Earth, there is this powerful object called the Tesseract. Inside of it, is one of the essentials to my great plan. I will give you an army, Earth will be yours to rule. I only ask for the Tesseract in return, understand?” 

Loki stood up straight, eyes still fixed on your father. “ I will not disappoint you”

Once you heard Loki say that, you felt your heart drop since you knew what your father did with his alliances. Thanos smirked with malicious intent. 

“We’ll see”  

You could do nothing but watch as your father took the specter and plunged it into Loki’s chest. You bite the inside of your cheek as you hear his screams ring out, your father wanted to show Loki that he was not one to be disappointed or betrayed. You couldn’t bear to think of what he was making Loki see or feel but you swore that you saw his eyes water. What made it worse was that his eyes were no longer on your father but on you. They held such pain and terror that you almost thought he was begging for help. You gave him a sympathetic look before looking away. You couldn’t have your father seeing you be weak, Loki’s screams continued until your father had enough and made him pass out from the mind torture.  

“Y/n, take our guest to his room. I want to make sure he’s fully prepared for his mission.” Your father stood handing you the tall scepter. “ Give him this for his mission. Don’t be afraid to make him grovel to our will.” 

Gripping the specter tightly in your hand. You stared up at your father with a harsh glare. “Of course Father.” With your words, Loki was picked up by Gamora and carried him to his chamber for now. You followed her admiring his features. 

His face was bruised and scraped, his eyes were puffy with some red around them. 

‘He’s been in more pain than today..” You thought to yourself as the door opened welcoming you. 

Gamora flops him on the bed and proceeds to give you a look beginning to walk out but then she stops. “Y/n you can’t save everyone from father” She says, turning her head to look at you slightly.

“I'm not trying to save anyone, I just can’t stand the pain ” You stated factually as you watched Loki fidget and turn in his sleep. Gamora nodded once before leaving you alone with the god of mischief.  Deciding to give the poor man some relief, you crouched beside him and began to softly sing a lullaby to help ease his pain. 

You lightly grasped his arm to sing soft melodies in his ear. All you had to do was sing a few notes and anyone would be under your spell. Once you saw his face soften up and relax slightly, you pulled away to stand back up.  

“Sleep...and may you never have another bad dream..”  A soft smile rose to your face seeing Loki relax completely and just look peaceful before he would endure your father’s wraith. Leaving the scepter by his side, you exited the room and proceeded to the next mission.