#rocket medit and sword

[unnamed-idi0t]

Btwww proxy is a rocket main :33

My other friend is a meditation main n my partner plays biograft :D

ROCKET MAIN YEYSYSYEYSYSYSYSSYYEYS

[sanvirtheobserver]

Taking Flight, Chapter 46: Residence Of Evil

A cacophony of crow's songs echoes above as Saturday and Ragatha arrive before the Manor.

Ragatha: Weird. This place was pretty calm the other day.

Saturday: Did you actually look inside?

Ragatha: A little bit. Didn't sense anything off back then, but now........

The stranger descends from the sky and lands behind the two, followed by Tari and Saiko. Ragatha was rather surprised to see Tari out here while Saturday was focusing on the stranger.

Saturday: Shiro. I was wondering why you were late.

Shiro: Apologies, captain. I got a little....... preoccupied. Heh...... eh.

Tari: We just had a bit of a misunderstanding.

Ragatha: So, what brings you guys here?

Saiko: Apparently Tari had a "vision" that convinced her to rocket off.

Saturday: A vision, you say.

Tari: It's a bit weird, but........ I saw something back in the Castle while meditating. There was this dark hallway and-

Clench: A FRICKING DEMON LUNGED OUT AT US! I kept telling her coming here was a bad idea but she wouldn't listen!

Tari: Yeah..... that.......

Saturday makes her way to the front door.

Saturday: We've wasted enough time with this. Let's just find out what's going-

A set of razor sharp claws lunges out at her the moment she opens the front door, narrowly missing her shoulder. She draws a lance and swiftly perforates a monstrous figure before kicking it away. It's body twitches and writhes back onto its feet, with two more creatures seen shambling out of the adjacent halls.

Saturday: Bloody hell on a pike.

Roars and gunfire echo through the cellar halls as Pomni, Uzi, and Bob flee from a pursuing horde of molded beasts. One squeezes through a hole in the wall in front of them, but is swiftly dispatched with a blast from Uzi's shotgun while Bob opens fire into the pursuing horde with his SMGs. Another drops from the ceiling and Pomni skewers it through the head with a prismatic spike as she keeps running.

Pomni: Come on, let's go!

The three finally make it to the stairs and begin their ascent. As they are running, Bob's guns give off that dreadful "click." He's out of ammo. He switches to his claw shot and fires it into the doorframe above, but a creature grabs onto his leg as he struggles to pull himself forward.

Bob: Oh balls, no! I'm too young and sexy to die!

Uzi hops onto Bob's painfully outstretched back and draws the sword from her belt.

Uzi: Hey bozo! CUT IT OUT!

One fell swing severs the creature's arm like butter. The tension of the hookshot sends the two flying, scooping up Pomni as the three rocket out of the stairway and back onto the ground floor. Ragatha hears the crash and rushes into the room to find the three all sprawled out in the hall. She hears the horde within the cellar and readies her cleavers, but the door suddenly slams shut on its own and a nearby drawer flies over landing right on the door, forming a barricade. Uzi sits there with her hand outstretched for a moment as the purple glow fades from the mark on her hand. She lets out a sigh before meeting Ragatha's gaze. Pomni gets to her feat and subsequently pukes her gut out for a moment. Ragatha immediately rushes to her aid.

Ragatha: Pomni! Are you okay?

Pomni: Eugh...... Ra......Ragatha? What are you doing here!?

Ragatha: I was wondering the same about you.

Bob: Oh my aching ovaries.

Uzi shouts in pain as a sharp sensation shoots through her fractured shoulder.

Uzi: FINLAND!!!! ........That's not good.

Pomni: Oh my god! Uzi, you're hurt!

Uzi: Yeah....... I noticed.

Ragatha: Okay, let's walk it back a bit. What are you guys even doing here?

Bob: Ask her! She's the one who knows the most about this place. Or did those forums forget to mention the pubes of Satan's asscrack in the cellar?

Uzi: Excuse me, but you're the one who decided to go venturing into the depths of hell to make a quick buck. Also, you mean to tell me that not a SINGLE alarm bell went off when that TV guy handed you those keys?

Pomni: Is now really a good time for this!?

Bob: Oh get off my balls!

Uzi: Bite me, trash man!

Bob: I would if you wouldn't taste like s***!

Uzi: Says the guy who probably hasn't showered since Jesus was in preschool!

Ragatha: ENOUGH. BOTH OF YOU.

The authority in Ragatha's voice puts a swift end to their argument. She takes a deep breath as she tries to regain her composure.

Pomni: Look. Clearly, this place isn't as safe or as abandoned as we thought, and God knows how many more of those things are creeping around. Can we please save the melodrama for later so we can get back home in one piece?

The two exchange glances for a moment. Bob let's out a sigh as he helps Uzi back to her feet. Ragatha turns to Pomni.

Pomni: I'm so sorry about this.

Ragatha: It's fine. Just make sure they get back home safe, okay?

Pomni: You got it.

And so the trio take their leave as Pomni leads them to the front door. A sense of dread still weighs upon Uzi's heart as she looks back at Ragatha. The look of concern in her eye gave it away. She saw what Uzi did.

Ragatha: Get that shoulder looked at, first. We can talk later if you want.

Saturday and Saiko are currently cleaning house in the Ballroom. One creature tries to get the jump on Saturday before getting its head smashed in with a hamner.

Saiko: I got your back, princess.

Saturday hurls a lance right over Saiko's shoulder and nails another Molded straight in the head.

Saturday: Chat later. Mission first. Keep up.

Upstairs, Tari and Shiro carve their way through another pack of Molded. One lashes at Shiro, seemingly ripping him in half before the body explodes into white smoke. The creature is then cleaved into quarters by his arm blades. Despite being made of paper, they prove to be exceptionally sharp. Tari shields herself as a bloated beast vomits a stream of acidic bile at her, the purulence sizzling as it makes contact with her barrier. She brings out her Mace and swings into the barrier, sending it flying into the beast along witn several others as they are all reduced to stains on the walls.

Shiro: Ugh, it's times like this where I'm glad I don't have a nose.

Tari covers her nose as she examines one of the carcasses. The writhing bone-riddled mass slowly turns white and rigid before crumbling at the slightest touch, leaving behind a frame of twisted bone. Tari notices something solid within the remains. Something solid. With some deliberation, she reaches inside the exposed ribcage. Spindly black roots peel away from the surrounding bone as she pulls a spherical device from the detritus. A rectangular window on its face reveals a pulsing mass within the sphere, it's faint pulse growing slower and softer until it goes still. The roots turning pale before crumbling away.

Shiro: I guess that's what makes these things tick.

She heads into the lounge where she finds the safe Bob had opened earlier. All 17 journals were still present, including the one Bob had dropped when he first met Mr. Puzzles.

Tari: Maybe these will shed a little light on this place.

It was then that a familiar voice from outside echoes throughout the Manor.

Swag: Attention all bitches!

Saturday, Ragatha, and Saiko all come outside to see a massive tank parked outside the Manor, with Chris manning the wheel and Swag shouting over the megaphone. SMG3's Airship also hung in the air above the treeline with the rest of the Anti Crew manning its guns.

SMG3: Expresso, this is Mocha. We are in position and loading our guns as we speak, over.

Chris: Roger that, Mocha. Stand by for further instructions.

Swag: This is Swagmaster6969696969 speaking! We have received word of unregistered BOWs within the area! All present personnel are advised to haul ass and vacate the area before we blow it to Hell and 3/4, over and out!

Tari: Shiro, help me with this!

She and Shiro hurriedly gather all the journals and make their way to the exit, cutting a swath into whatever stands in their way.

Chris: Commencing bombardment in three........

The crew scatters away from the mansion and take cover.

Chris: Two........

By the time Shiro and Tari reach the front courtyard, both the tank and the Airship are locked, loaded, and ready to fire.

Chris: One.........

They swiftly join the others as a massive horde of monsters spills through the front door and windows.

Chris: Weapons free.

SMG3: KIDS GONNA DIE TONIGHT.

The tank fires the first shell, ripping through the horde like tissue paper before demolishing the front foyer. A hail of artillery fire rains down upon the mansion. Heavy hwachas pepper the estate as the Autocannons perforate and eviscerate any creatures caught within their sights as the Mansion's walls come crumbling down.

Belle: HAVE SOME!

Kaizo: MOERO, BEIBĪ! MOERO!

Jub Jub: JUB JUB!

SMG3: And last but not least.

The Airship hovers above the Mansion. A hatch beneath the stern opens and we see Rob saddling one of the biggest bombs as it rolls out and drops down.

Rob: WITNESS ME!

With a thunderous crash, the bomb breaks through the roof and lands right in the Ballroom. The payload detonates, consuming the entire manner and all within it in a colossal fireball visible all the way from the Showgrounds. Meggy and Mario sit atop the roof of the castle as they watch the fireworks. She takes a swig from a bottle of rootbeer and gives Tari a call on the phone.

Meggy: Hey guys, you still alive?

Tari: Alive and well. You see the fireworks?

Meggy: Pretty sure Auri can see it.

Tari: Well, we're on our way home. Let Aybel know we got some things for him to look at when we get there.

Meggy: Will do. Stay fresh.

Mario: Can you pass me another bottle?

Meggy obliges. The two toast as the sun sets over the Mushroom cloud, with a burning Rob landing beside the two on the roof. Eh, I'm sure he'll be fine.

Rob: THAT WAS AWESTACULAR! *bleh*

[thychesters]

#wipwednesday! haven't done one in a long time lmao. me writing more zolu? omg? who is she ...

anyway, luffy and zoro sparring on the deck of the sunny because "i thought you were watching the ship." "i was watching the ship. sometimes that just so happens to entail luffy trying to roundhouse kick me in the head for attention." boys will be boys. they're flirting

i'm only mildly mostly losing my mind writing this but the rough draft is coming along nicely! coaxing myself into having a full draft done at some point eventually

“C’mon!” he wheedles, nudging Zoro’s side with his knees, and for a moment it’s any other day—any other time the two of them are relegated to ship watch and watching Zoro meditate had entertained him for all of five seconds. “Fine,” he grouses after the third kick. He climbs to his feet, back to the late morning sun. “Swords or no swords?”  “You holding back?” “Don’t know if I wanna deal with another Franky lecture about ship care.” “Oh, yeah, he got really mad about the onigiri to the foremast.” “That’s not—” “Zoro’s stalling!” Luffy hoots, and Zoro’s comeback is interrupted when he pitches forward to press a wet raspberry to his cheek before rocketing back and darting toward the prow, pivoting to turn his back to the masthead and cackling all the while. “Zoro’s probably worried he can’t land a hit so he’s staaaaalling. Boooo.” “Oi,” he grunts, scrubbing at his cheek with the heel of his palm, “quit talking shit before I beat the shit out of you.” He tosses his head back, laugh bright and loud, and the corner of his mouth curls. “I don’t think you can!” “Dumbass,” he chides, shifting from amused to affronted because Luffy asked him to spar and he isn’t taking this seriously—bounding around the ship like a moron, stretching out his too-long limbs like he’s just showing off, and Zoro will endure the peacocking for another five seconds. “Hey!” “Sounds like Zoro’s mad he can’t catch me,” Luffy says like he’s talking to himself, beaming at him even as he zips through the air to the foremast, free hand lashing out to grab onto his hat. He can see in the tilt to his body, feet planted against the mast and body silhouetted by the sun Zoro’s squinting into—can see it in the way he tenses just so, coiling in on himself, and Zoro squares his stance. He’s about to get a head butt to the gut. “You gonna tag me in or what? You wanted to spar and instead I’m watching you bounce around. I could be drinking instead of this.”

[gregnas-the-grouch]

Truth Without Power

All was calm in the forest. The singing of birds, the chipping of insects, the gentle sway of trees in the wind. It all blended in the background, But for one Cofagrigus, it only served to aid her meditation. The warrior’s mind still, focused. Nothing could break her concentration at this point. 

“So eager to earn my ire? I know your mental faculties are lacking, yet even I must admit I’m impressed at the depths you’re willing to pursue in the name of enraging me.” Baozhai’s demeanor had hit a new low. For all her bluster, even Yemir could feel it radiating off the Cofagrigus in sickening waves. It gave the small Gallade pause, if only for a moment as Bao turned to face her charge. “It seems I have no option left. Since I can find no opponent capable of rousing you to your former size. I will simply have to get my hands dirty”, the ghost murmured. Standing up to her full height, Baozhai looked down at Yemir. As if she were a mischievous child that needed scolding. “Be proud. It’s not often people get to face me in combat. One of the better highlights compared to the list of individuals you’ve battled, I would say”, a slight smile formed on her face as Yemir stared at Baozhai.

The reduced giant remained quiet for a few moments before she suddenly bursted into a fit of laughter. Clutching her chest tightly, Yemir did her best not to pass out from the intense pain as she howled like a looney. Bao’s light smile vanished in an instant, her right eye twitching in irritation as Yemir wiped a few tears from her eyes. Calming down. “Oh, that’s a good one, Granny Bao. I thought you were being serious there”, Yemir chuckled. Only to note the annoyance Baozhai had been displaying. “... Oh god, you’re being serious, aren’t ya?” Yemir ruminates upon the Cofagrigus’ words before uttering a simple, “no”, in response. “No offense, but yer not exactly what I would consider a good fight? What do ya do, just flip around with yer little sword there and poke people in the gut? Nah, that’s kinda boring if ye ask me”, Yemir grunted with a lazy look on her face.

“Ah, I see how it is”, Baozhai mused out loud as she started at Yemir. “You’re simply afraid to have this old woman beat your ass, is that it? I suppose I'd be afraid to have my precious reputation too if a, how did you put it? A granny. Beat my ass as well. Perfectly natural response”, Baozhai said calmly as her words poked and prodded at Yemir’s ego. The Gallade bared her teeth, snarling deeply as she turned her back to Baozhai with her arms crossed. “Nice try. I know yer just trying to goad me into fightin’ ya. Ain’t gonna happen.” Without another word, Yemir slowly started to walk away from Baozhai. Yet the mummy wasn’t finished with her little insults. “Ah, I see how it is. Yemir is still pouting and throwing a fit over what happened in White Forest, is it? I wonder… how would your father feel about your cowardice?”

Yemir immediately froze on the spot. Stiff and silent like a statue as Baozhai continued forth with her little verbal assault. “That’s why you continue to suffer from such a sullen mood, no? You put all your faith and trust into someone you believed to be good. Someone you believed to be on your side. Only to find out that they’re not quite the person you thought them to be. Yet you just walk, acting like you’re some kind of hot shit. Being a perpetual mope and doing nothing to solve this little predicament of yours. Perhaps your brother had a good reason to betray you. Perhaps if your father was still alive today, he’d show nothing but disappointment at your inability to-”, Baozhai was cut off as a large rock went flying past her at breakneck speed. The armored ghost twisted her head at just the last second to avoid it before returning her attention back to Yemir. The short Gallade’s mouth had steam seeping out as her pupils were narrowed. Hands balled into fists. “Ya better hope yer as good at fightin’ as ye are at flapping yer lips!”

Baozhai paused for a few moments before a wry grin spread across her face. “See? Was that so hard? Now… give me everything you got”, Baozhai growled. Spreading her arms, as if to goad Yemir even further into attacking her. Naturally, this worked as Yemir barred her teeth, hands clenched into fists as she charged forward. Reckless as ever. Baozhai stood still, her eyes locked onto the Gallade, making no noise or movement until the brawny shrimp was right on top of her. Arm curled back, ready to deck Baozhai right in that pretty little face of hers. Yemir swung forward, only for her eyes to widen as Baozhai shifted to the side. Face stuck in that mocking expression as she gave Yemir a sharp slap over the back of her head with one of her ghostly hands. Yemir stumbled a bit, having swung her punch, only to meet nothing but air. Bao’s playful gesture only served to enrage Yemir further as the Cofagrigus merely chortled at her.

“Come now, surely you can do better than this, no? I thought Yemir was undefeatable”, the ghost taunted. Only adding to Yemir’s frustrations. The Gallade said nothing aside from low grunts and snarls. Her hands trembling at the chance to punch the snooty Cofagrigus. Yet, no matter how often Yemir lunged at Baozhai. All she received in response was that obnoxious smack over the back of her head. Again and again. The brute’s rage was starting to boil at this point. Any sense of caution thrown to the wind as her speed started to build up. Baozhai even noticed Yemir’s mass increasing as the seconds went by. In a couple of minutes, she had almost reached Baozhai’s height herself. Good progress, but not enough for Baozhai.

“Tell me, how does someone like yourself get praised for being such a good warrior? You have the brawn, yes. But that’s all you have. No thought behind your actions. No tact or strategy. Just swinging away with your massive fists. Maybe the only reason they praised you as such is that most didn’t know how to fight to begin with. Nothing but skill-less fools praising a bigger fool who was simply stronger than them.” Bao’s words tore into Yemir’s pride like a pack of hungry Houndoom digging into a fresh kill. “Shut it!”, the giant yelled, her fists swinging faster, more furiously. Yet Baozhai always seemed one step ahead. Just barely out of reach of her punches. “Shut it? Why should I? All you’ve been doing is running your mouth ever since we started our little journey. You can’t even touch me”, Baozhai taunted, her eyes narrowed at the giant. A blood vessel popped in Yemir’s forehead as her teeth grated against each other. Her mouth clenched in anger. Bringing out another punch to throw Baozhai’s way.

The Cofagrigus yawned, prepared to dodge another of Yemir’s blows.However, as the massive arm crossed Baozhai’s path, she felt a sharp sting on her face. Hissing, she pulled back, reaching towards her face, only to pull back. Green blood stained her black hand. Yemir… hit her? How? She didn’t see the punch connect with her face. Yet the damage was apparent to the old ghost. Yemir merely had an angry smile on her face. Pleased, she managed to land a hit on Baozhai, even if the effect wasn’t intended. “Keep on talkin’, Bao. I’ll wipe that smirk of yer face just yet”, the giant proclaimed loudly. Baozhai was silent for a few seconds before her mocking demeanor became considerably more serious. “You’ll regret that.”

Not wanting to let up on Baozhai, Yemir charged once more. Keeping the pressure on the ancient Cofagrigus as best she could. Yet as she was about to land a punch on Baozhai, all the giant could hear was a dull thud. Confused, Yemir turned her head to the side, only to see Baozhai standing her ground. Using both her forearms as a shield, the Cofagrigus managed to tank Yemir’s hit, barely budging from her spot. Baozhai merely glared back at Yemir with an angry smile of her own. “Hm, is this the best punch you can throw? Pathetic”, the ghost mocked. Her ghostly hair suddenly sprouted a life of its own. Wrapping around Yemir’s arm like snakes and squeezing ever so tightly so Yemir couldn’t get away. The growing giant had little time to contemplate Baozhai’s words or moves as she felt a ghastly energy well up near her abdomen. Looking down, the Gallade made note of a ShadowBall swelling up in size. Baozhai’s human hand near it as the energy felt more intense with each passing moment.

Yemir could barely let out a word as Baozhai unleashed her attack. Yemir let out a screech as she felt her massive body sent rocketing back. The ghostly energy orb driving into her body like a runaway train. Slamming into any poor tree caught in her way. Yemir was sent flying through the forest, leaving a small path of destruction in her wake as Baozhai merely stood up, watching her handiwork in action as a bright flash of purple, followed by a loud boom went off. “Ah… Perhaps I got a bit too carried away there. Haos would never let me hear the end of it if I wound up killing her.” The ghost knew better, though. Yemir certainly had a reputation for being resilient.

As Baozhai slowly made her way towards the impact zone, she made note of all the broken trees. Nothing but smouldering stumps at this point. The Shadowball had sent Yemir flying quite some ways away. Dozens of yards by the look of it. Until naught but a pile of broken trees and charred ground piled up where the giant once remained. “Yemir, are you still alive?”, the ghost called out. Leaning forward to get a better look, hoping for some sign of life. Yet it remained eerily silent. The Cofagrigus frowned, her body starting to tense up a bit as she expected Yemir to burst out of there any second now. Until she felt something grip her legs.

Her head snapped down, only to notice the shadows had sprung to life. Wrapping around her calves and ankles, as if they had a life of their own as Baozhai’s expression changed from one of uncertainty to one of regret. “Fuck”, was all the ghost could utter as the pile of debris suddenly exploded. Yemir, restored in all her monolithic glory, lept forth. Eyes wide with determination and fury. Her right arm reared back for one hell of a punch. Only this one was different. Her elbow vent had been spouting flames, roaring like a jet engine as Bao’s gut curled into a tight ball, her throat locked. The mummy could only brace herself before she felt several tons of might and rage slam into her. The Cofagrigus was slammed into the ground, the breath knocked out of her. All she could do was yell in pain as Yemir continued her unrelenting assault, constantly pounding her oversized fists into Baozhai’s chest as all Baozhai could do was yell in anger. Being driven further and further into the ground as the entire area around her shattered into a crater. Until, eventually, all that remained was a massive hole where Baozhai once stood. Yemir towering over it, breathing heavily as her anger simmered down a bit.

“... Well, that’s one way to vent me anger, I suppose”, Yemir grumbled to herself. Surveying all the destruction she had caused. The crater was much bigger than she expected. Staring at her arms, she made note of her elbow vent. Still smoking from the raw power she had just released. A big smile spread across her face. She didn’t know how she did it. But with those elbow vents, she could make her punches hit harder. Who knows what else she could do with them as well? Yemir didn’t waste much time reflecting on this, staring at the hole in the ground where Baozhai used to be. “Oi! Bao, ya in there?” Yemir called out, only to be greeted with silence. “Huh, maybe I punched her too hard,'' Yemir grunted. Looking at the scene of destruction before her. It was enough to flatten a small town and then some.

After staring at the Baozhai shaped hole in the ground for a few more seconds. Yemir merely shrugged her shoulders before turning around and walking away. The giant had no interest in following Baozhai anymore, to be quite frank. Yemir just didn’t feel like dealing with her bullshit anymore. As the giant lumbered forth a few yards, an all too familiar voice called out to her. Making Yemir’s ears perk up. “Leaving so soon? I thought we were just getting warmed up”, called out the cold, yet condescending voice of Baozhai. Spinning around in disbelief, Yemir’s eyes widened upon seeing Baozhai standing before her. Her armor had seen better days, a few chips and cracks here and there. Her otherwise perfect face bruised, green blood dripping down the corner of her mouth while her normally smooth and straight hair had been frayed and messy.

Yet, Yemir noticed something off about Baozhai. Behind her chilly demeanor, her eyes seethed with a fire the brute thought missing in the empress. Admittedly, Yemir was impressed by the old ghost’s resilience. Most people wouldn’t take such a beating and get back up. Smirking, Yemir crossed her arm, staring down at Baozhai with a cocky grin. “Heh, I guess those dusty warriors follow ya fer a reason. But ya still pissed me off, so don’t expect me to go easy on ya”, the giant grunted, Baozhai simply narrowed her eyes at Yemir. The giant herself raised a brow when the Cofagrigus slowly unsheathed her sword. Holding it in one hand as Yemir merely smiled wider. “So, finally decided to take me seriously, aye? Good. I’m done talkin’ with ya”, Yemir grunted. Cracking her knuckles as the Cofagrigus assumed a defensive stance with her blade. As if expecting Yemir to make the first move.

The giant did not disappoint. Her smile replaced with a scowl, Yemir lunged at Baozhai. Her fists alight with fire, hoping to crush baozhai under the weight of her attack. Baozhai simply dodged to the side. A glint of steel crossed Yemir’s eyes, followed by a sharp pain. A large one opened up on her right forearm. A small geyser of purple blood sprayed out as Yemir’s eyes widened in surprise. She didn’t even see Baozhai swing her sword. The Cofagrigus didn’t let up. Weaving and ducking through every punch Yemir threw her way. Responding in kind with a swing of a sword. Slicing her way the giant’s flesh as if it were butter. Annoyed with all these scratches and nicks, Yemir bellowed mightily, slamming her clenched fists together as steam erupted from her body. Her muscles contracted, growing ever denser as her skin color darkened. As Baozhai swung her sword, her eyes widened as she felt the sword meet resistance. The flesh harder to carve through.

Yemir took it a step further, the shadows around them began to waver and twist. Darkened tendrils sprouting out of them like sharpened blades, jutting towards Baozhai. The mummy lept back, wincing as she felt a few nick her in the areas her armor didn’t cover. Yemir let out a roar as she charged at the retreating ghost. Her throat began to glow before a torrent of blue flames erupted from her mouth. Baozhai lept back, feeling the sapphire flames singe the tip of her hair, a small sneer forming on her face. Holding up her other hand, another Shadowball formed from Bao’s ghastly energy. Yet, the Cofagrigus did not throw it at Yemir, even as she managed to stay one step ahead of Yemir’s fiery breath. Instead, Baozhai pointed the tip of her blade at the ghostly sphere before piercing it. The energy enveloping the bladed. Taking on the shape of the sword itself, but doubling its length.

Yemir’s eyes widened, closing her mouth as she made note of what Baozhai pulled off. The back of her hair stood on edge. Her gut clenched while a dry lump formed in her throat. Something told the brute she didn’t want to be on the receiving end of that. Spotting a boulder nearby that managed to survive their skirmish. Yemir plunged both her hands around it, plucking it out of the ground with a mighty lift. Yemir opened her mouth, spewing more flames around the rock. Seemingly clinging to it, as if it had a desire to never let go. The fire itself seemed to have no effect on the titan as she let it plop on the ground. The shadows around her danced and stretched, reaching out to the boulder before wrapping around it. Plunging one hand near the flaming rock, the shadows reached out, coiling around Yemir’s arm and holding tight.

A manic smile spread across Yemir’s face as she lifted her arm back up, the boulder followed suit, the shadows keeping the two tethered as the burly brute began to swing the flaming boulder around like a ball n’ chain. Baozhai had little time to react, rolling to the ground as she felt the heat of the massive rock pass by her. Mere inches from knocking her head off. Yet, despite it all, Baozhai retained her composure, unflinching in the face of Yemir’s might. Sword in hand, Baozhai sprung back into action. Racing right towards Yemir. This caught the giant off guard, swinging the flaming boulder around recklessly, in the vain hopes of crushing Baozhai. This did not deter Baozhai, who sprinted ever closer. Yemir pulled back her weapon, having it land perfectly in her meaty palm before swinging it horizontally, hoping to sweep Baozhai along with it. Yet Baozhai managed to slide underneath it, mere feet away from Yemir as her amber eyes burned brightly with determination.

It all happened so fast as the Cofagrigus lept forth, the ethereal blade slicing through her shadow tethered arm effortlessly. The giant felt nothing at first, naively thinking nothing happened. Only to watch as her limb suddenly separated from her shoulder. Flying through the air as it was still attached to the boulder. Careening some distance away before landing on the ground with an unceremonious thump. Yemir let out a loud yell, clutching at the stump where her right arm used to be as blood gushed out of it, the pain wracking through her body. Though the giant seemed to treat it more as an inconvenience then the fact she just lost an arm. Her grip tightened as she turned her head back at Baozhai. Her mismatched eyes glaring at the mummy, anger beginning to rise once more while the mummy matched her stare in ferocity. The two were silent before Baozhai simply uttered, “do you yield?”

Yemir snarled at the mummy, her teeth bared as she felt tempted to lunge for and crush the ancient spirit with her powerful jaws. Yet, in the back of Yemir’s mind, she recalled the little promise she had made to her father. Her face quivered before letting out a sigh, “I yield.” “Good”, the mummy seemed satisfied with Yemir’s response. Staring at her sword, Bao swung the blade to the side, flicking the titan’s blood off of it. “Sting is satisfied with the battle. Now fetch your arm, I would hate to see you forget the trinkets your father left behind”, the mummy stated. Yemir rolled her eyes, even though she wasn’t that forgetful as she stumbled forward to retrieve her missing limb. Baozhai walked in step by Yemir’s side, silently eyeing the giant’s wound while Yemir leaned forward, picking the limb up with her free hand. “Excellent, let us make haste, lest we attract unwanted guests with our little scuffle”, Baozhai gestured to all the destruction around them. Yemir merely stared at Baozhai as she turned around and began to walk away. 

“Why?”, the giant called out. Stopping the empress in her tracks as Yemir took a step forward. “Why are ya doing this? Ye hate my guts. Sliced my damn arm off fer fuck’s sake. But ya still want me with you. Why?”, the giant called out as Baozhai remained silent before simply responding with, “I have a duty to my friends, nothing more.” Yemir’s mouth curled into a snarl as she took another step forward. “Bullshit!”, the giant yelled at the top of her lungs. “There’s more than just fucking duty! Yer a bitch, there’s gotta be a better reason!” Baozhai turned her head in response to this, her eyes matching Yemir with a frosty glare. “Say that again”, the ghost demanded of Yemir, her tone unwavering.

Yemir paused, looking down at the severed hand she clutched tightly before looking back up at Baozhai. “Yer a bitch.” Baozhai merely let out an icy laugh, chilling Yemir’s soul. “You’re right, I am a bitch… Does it matter, though?”, the warrior ghost replied as she crossed her arms. Yemir tilted her head, trying to respond. Yet nothing would come out as she fumbled with the words. “I’m a bitch. A tyrant. A devil. I’ve been called these things and more by those who hated me with every fiber of their being. But does it matter? To which I would say, no, it didn’t. Want to know why? Because they lacked the power to be right”, Baozhai proclaimed casually. Waving an arm, as if to dismiss these accusations.

“It’s one thing to speak the truth. It’s another to have the power to back it up as well. For what good is “truth” if you can’t maintain your own? What good is the wailing of those who had been conquered, yet lacked the strength to stand up and make their truth become a reality? Nothing. Not a goddamn thing”, Baozhai stated, her serene expression became more menacing as a result. “You want to know why I’m helping you? True, I do have my duty to my friend. But I also have my own reasons. If I am to retake my kingdom, my region. What good is ruling if I have naught but cinders and the entire world breathing down my back?”, the ghost explained, expression never faltering. “You think those Golurks were trouble? They’re only the beginning! In case you fail to notice, you practically nuked an entire forest, caused untold damage to a nearby city and the surrounding area-”, only to be cut off by Yemir. 

“-That wasn’t my fault, it was Whisper and Eudai’s fault!”, Yemir retorted. Baozhai’s serene expression shattered in an instant. “It is your fucking fault, Yemir! You think just because your siblings pissed you off that it makes things better? Men, women, children. You killed everyone in that area and now they’ll want blood! You think people give a fuck? Honestly, answer me that. Do they give a shit about you throwing a little temper tantrum because Eudai is an asshole? No, they do not! The only thing that matters to them is your death and nothing will change that.” Baozhai was practically fuming with anger, Yemir unable to talk back as the mummy’s words hit the giant like a truck. After a few seconds, an aura surrounded Baozhai. Her seething rage subdued as she returned to her calmer demeanor. Staring back at Yemir, her expression.

“Let me ask you this. When you exploded, White Forest was gone. But do you believe your siblings perished on that day? Wiped away in the blast of your all consuming rage?” Yemir stared at the ground like a whipped dog. Unable to answer for a short bit before she took in a deep breath and sighed. “No, I never saw it and I have no memories of what happened in our fight fer the most part. But I can… feel them. Like me gut knows they’re still out there”, Yemir rumbled. Refusing to make eye contact with Baozhai. “I’ll take your word for it. If that’s the case, then they’ll likely take advantage of this situation. Use your desperation against you. Especially Eudai”, Baozhai commented, Yemir had a spark of anger in her from mention of that name.

“I know the pain that comes from betrayal, truly, I do. But going about this blindly, nonchalantly, there's no solution at all. You mentioned your brother wanting to become one. If this is the case, I want you to contemplate your brother holding the raw physical strength you’re capable of, as well as the strange power your sister wields. How well do you think that’ll go?” The question seemed to slap Yemir in the face as she lifted her head. “Not good.”

“Yes, not good at all. So ask yourself this. Which truth do you want to prevail? The truth of Eudai? Validated in his treachery. Or the truth of Yemir? Who managed to endure, despite the machinations of her siblings.” Yemir barely gave this question any thought. “My truth.” Baozhai smiled slightly at this, seemingly pleased with Yemir’s response. “As it should be. Now come, I’d really like a headstart before they come to “grace” us with their presence”, Baozhai scoffed as Yemir raised her brow, staring down at the empress. “Wha, wait. Who? Whose coming?” Yemir asked. Baozhai paused before staring back at Yemir. “White Forest is home to a great many deal of creatures. Yet, is special to a certain group that hailed from this region long ago.” Baozhai paused, turning her back to Yemir, but not before uttering a single word.

“Dragons.”

[ms-circely]

✨Dream Symbols✨🌌

A's:⭐⭐⭐

Abundance - desire for independence

Accident - something unplanned

Actor//Actress - desire for recognition

Adultery - guilt

Airplane (Transportation)

Altar - self sacrifice

Anchor - stability. Sometimes a desire for a permanent home

Anniffil - the feminine aspect of the individual. Guide to the inner world. Receptive, prospective, and nurturing.

Animal - defends on your feelings for the particular animal. A helpful animal normally represents the instinctive self.

Animus - the masculine aspect of the individual. Uncompromising conviction. Force.

Apple - desire

Arrow - pleasure, festivity

Auction - promise of abundance

Automobile (Transportation)

B's: ⭐⭐⭐

Baby: Crying - frustrated plans, Laughing - plans fulfilled, Sleeping - waiting period, patience

Balloon - frustration

Basement - a place of refuge or retreat

Battle - inner conflict

Bells - fulfillment of plans, joy

Bicycle (Transportation) - hard work will bring plans to fruition

Birds - usually transcendence from one being to another

Birth - transition to new phase or new aspect of self

Bridge - overcoming difficulties, a change

Broom - the ability to sweep or clean up

Bull - animal nature, stubborness

Burial - end of a phase, time to take a new direction

C's:⭐⭐⭐

Candle - constancy

Cane//Crutch - the need for support

Capital (City//Town) - the center

Castle - ambition

Cave - a place of retreat or refuge, a need for time to think and meditate

Circle - totality, perfection, infinity

Cities - gatherings of consciousness

Climbing - the self mastery process, rising consciousness

Clock - the passage of time, the need to take action

Clothes - attitude, personality

Coffin (Burial)

Cradle - potential for advancement

Crossing a River - a fundamental change of attitude

Crying - emotion, usually a sad event

Crystal - union of matter and spirit

Curtains - concealment, adornment

Colors🌈🌈🌈

Red - strength, health, vigor, sexual love, danger, charity

Orange - encouragement, adaptation, stimulation, attraction, plenty kindness

Yellow - persuasion, charm, confidence, jealousy, joy, comfort

Green - finance, fertility, luck, energy, charity, growth

Blue - tranquility, understanding, patience, health, truth, devotion, sincerity

Indigo - changeability, impulsiveness, depression, ambition, dignity

Violet - tension, power, sadness, piety, sentimentality

D's:⭐⭐⭐

Darkness - the spirit world, the subconscious, turning inward

Death - the end of something, opportunity for new beginnings

Dog - loyalty, laziness, anger

E's:⭐⭐⭐

Eating - need for new interests, stimulation

Evening - descending into the subconscious world

Eye - perception, self-examination

F's:⭐⭐⭐

Falling - failing to live to expectations

Fish - transcendence from one state of being to another

Fire - anger, purification, abundance of energy

Flowers - contentment, pleasure

Flying (Transportation)

G's:⭐⭐⭐

Girl - immature feminine aspect

Glass - perception, being able to see (sometimes in the future)

Graduation - initiation, completing a phase

H's:⭐⭐⭐

Hair - thought, grey or silver hair indicates wise thought

Hammer - power to drive forward

Helpful Animal - the instinctive self

Highway - the path, the way ahead

Horse: White Horse - symbol of life, prosperity; Black Horse - change of fortunes; Wild Horse - uncontrolled instinctive urges; Winged Horse - transcendence from one state of being to another

House: The symbol of personality and conscious interest from the spiritual view. The particular room represents particular interest >> Bathroom - cleansing, elimination of the undesired; Basement - place of refuge, retreat, concealment; Bedroom - place of rest and recovery; Dining Room - place of sustenance, refortification; Kitchen - a place to prepare the sustenancen; Living Room - place of socializing

I's: ⭐⭐⭐

Ice - coldness of character, frigidity, rigidity

Illness - boredom, delay

Individual Self - the "real" you, the inner you, the all-wise, all-powerful spiritual self

J's:⭐⭐⭐

Jail - confinement, frustration, inability to act

Journey (Transportation)

Judge //Jury - your conscience

K's:⭐⭐⭐

Key - the answer to a problem

Kiss - satisfaction, completion

L's:⭐⭐⭐

Ladder - ability to climb (note the length of the ladder)

Left (as in side of direction) - the subconscious side, sometimes the wrong side of direction, the logical side, the scientific side

Light - hope

Lines: Broken lines - represents the feminine aspect; Solid lines - the masculine aspect

Lizard - transcendence

Lock - frustration, security

M's:⭐⭐⭐

Man//Male - animus, the masculine aspect, the age indicates the maturity or lack of it in the individual

Mask - falsehood, deception, concealment

Mirror - need to reconsider

Mother - heaven, comfort

N's:⭐⭐⭐

Nakedness - real, true, without false attitudes, exposed, natural

Night - greatest strength of the super-consciousness

Noon - the greatest clarity of consciousness

Numbers 💯💯💯

Even Number - signify balance and harmony

Odd Number - signify imbalance and discord

The beginning, the source, the ego

Duality, the male and female, positive and negative

Father, mother, and child; past, present, and future

The material universe, consciousness, reality, and law, physical power, initiative, religion and spiritual evolution

It represents materialism, expansion, change, understanding, and change

The number of cooperation and balance. It represents interaction between the material and the spiritual, mental and physical. It signifies psychism, peace

Completion, old age, endurance, evolution and wisdom. The seven stages of spiritual transformation

The number of dissolution and separation. The law of cyclic evolution and invention

Rebirth and reformation. Intuition, travel, karma

0. The circle, infinity, the universe

O's:⭐⭐⭐

Ocean - opportunity, spirituality

Owl - wisdom, need for further evaluation

P's:⭐⭐⭐

Pearl - joy; Broken string of pearls - misunderstanding

Pirate - suspicion

Pyramid - thirst for knowledge, seeking

R's:⭐⭐⭐

Railroad - a set path to follow

Rainbow - great happiness, opportunity

Reading - learning, gaining in knowledge, perceiving

Riding (Transportation)

Right - the consciousness, correctness, the artistic side

Ring - completion, loyalty

River - spirituality, a boundary

Rocket (Transportation)

Rocks - the unchanging self

Rodents - transcendence or a less-than-nice person, distrust, betrayal

Roller Skates (Transportation)

Roses (Flowers)

Ruins - failure of plans

S's:⭐⭐⭐

Sacrifice - overcoming pride

School - a need to learn

Scissors - distrust

Sea (Ocean)

Self-image - the inner or spiritual self

Shadow - the subconscious, insubstantiality

Ship (Transportation)

Skeleton - the basics, the root of a problem

Snake - spiritual wisdom, transcendence into a state of wisdom

Snake-bites - infusion of wisdom

Soldiers - force, power, regeneration

Spade - cutting, tough work lies ahead

Sunrise - clearing of consciousness, awakening

Sunset - need to protect assets

Swan - beauty, comfort, satisfaction

Sword - conflict

T's:⭐⭐⭐

Table - support, a platform for presentation

Telescope - need to get closer to a subject

Thief - loss or fear of loss, insecurity

Thunder - anger

Touching - healing. On rare occasions it may mean a curse. Can be comfort, security. The manner of touch and your feeling about it is important

Trains (Transportation)

Transcendence - achieving full realization of the individual self

Transformation (Transcendence)

Transportation - spiritual advancement. The more efficient the mode, the more effective and rapid is the advancement

Tree - the life principle, psychic growth and development, progress

Tunnel - hiding, being afraid

Turning - changing or developing. Turning in a circle represents lack of progress

Twins - ego and alter ego

U's & V's:⭐⭐⭐

Umbrella - shelter

Veil - insecurity

Volcano - emotions

W's:⭐⭐⭐

Wall - frustration, inability

Water - spirituality, emotion

Wedding - culmination of plans, happiness, success

Witch - supernatural ability, wisdom

Wreath - self pity

[centarscommunity]

LIVE BY THE SWORD

15

The colossal Knight overturned a boulder with the same level of ease and disdain as a horse swatting a fly. He could have easily been four meters tall. Possibly more. In his right hand he clutched a wretched blade gnarled with veins and scuffed chitin plating. The blade was not sharp, but the sheer force behind it and the indomitable will of its wielder made it more than capable of cleaving a scorpion tank in two.

He was searching for them. He overturned a second boulder, then a third. His patience was wearing thin and his breath ragged with blind rage. After a fourth unfruitful excavation attempt, the knight howled in frustration and thrust his living blade into the earth as a green aura began to charge around him. They had only a moment before the whole ravine was likely to explode in a blast of soulfire.

“Now” her comms crackled through static.

Emerging from active camouflage, the Hunter closed the gap on the meditating knight with her slug shotgun in hand. In two strides and a jump she was on him and slammed the barrel of her shotgun against the knight’s skull plating.

The knight’s head turned slightly.

Click

BANG

The hunter was thrown from the knight as it turned. From her vantage point laying on the ground, she could see that half of its head was now a pulpy mess of flesh and fibers. It wasn’t a lethal blow like she had hoped, but it was clearly barely alive. It staggered a few steps and snarled as a distant click and the sound of a rocket launching caught its attention.

The next 5 seconds were blinding and deafening. The hunter felt the life burn from her body as the explosion engulfed her. She was too close to the knight as the rocket struck it.

---------

“Shit.” The Titan pulled his eye away from his rocket launcher’s viewfinder. “SHIT! She was too close.. I think I killed her”

“She can come back. The knight can’t though. She did her job, she knew the risks.” The warlock had been casting an empowering rift around the two of them, unable to see the impact from their position.

“That does not make me feel better for killing her.” The titan growled back. “Still probably hurt worse than hell.

“Definitely. But the knight is dead, yes?” The warlock’s rift faded.

The titan put his eye back to the viewfinder. Bits of chitin and hive flesh littered the steaming crater. The Hunter’s charred corpse lay a few meters away. “Yes it’s very dead.” The Titan sighed.

“Let’s go revive her then.”

 --------

The site of the rocket impact had cooled slightly but some scattered embers still illuminated the canyon where the Hive Knight once patrolled. A ghost emerged from the ether and expanded, shining its light on the burned body that lay on the edge of the crater.

The Hunter gasped and sat upright. Armor charred but otherwise unharmed. A heavily plated gauntlet extended into her refocusing vision and a slightly muffled voice said “Sorry about that”

She blinked a few times before turning and realizing it was her companions kneeling next to her. “You owe me. SO MUCH. Asshole. That fucking hurt. I DIED!” The hunter grabbed the titan’s hand and was helped to her feet as the warlock laughed.

“Yeah but you blew his damn head off. That was amazing. Shame he turned at the last second. You would have had him and we wouldn’t have needed the backup plan.” the warlock chided. “That’s one less patrol. Good job team.”

The hunter cracked her back and let out a halfhearted “yaaaaay..”

This time the Titan chuckled at the sarcasm. “Alright, whats next.”

The warlock pulled out her holomap of Luna. Dozens of other markers appeared all over the surface of the planet. “The next one seems to be about 20 km north east. Shall we?” She summoned her sparrow and deactivated the holomap in one graceful motion.

The titan and the hunter shared a tired look before the hunter replied “yeahh alright. Let’s go. The sooner we squash these patrols the sooner I can get my apology beers. That’s twice now, T. I’m keeping count.” Her sparrow materialized before them as she walked towards the warlock, already mounted up.

The titan smirked at his fireteam and declared, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[belladxne]

you've got a look in your eyes (i knew you in a past life)

[see notes for AO3 & ff links]

prequel fic | part of the put your faith in the light that you cannot see series AU: Breath of the Wild pairing: KiriBaku word count: 5,504 Description:

(one glance and the avalanche drops, one look and my heartbeat stops)

One hundred years ago, there was a prince who would come to wield the sacred power inherited from his distant ancestor, the god Bakusatsuo, and a courageous knight chosen by the Sword that Seals the Darkness who fought at his side.

If only it were that fucking simple. Katsuki has spent his whole life being told he alone holds the sealing power that will repel the impending return of the Calamity. He's royalty, he's descended from the mortal incarnation of a god, he's been assured all his life that he's special for having this ability, and yet he still can't even harness a spark of the power. How could he possibly be blamed for resenting whoever comes to draw the sword, and masters their destiny as simple as that?

Katsuki stalks around his study with an indescribable energy welling up in him, clawing feverishly up his chest and throat. He won’t call it panic because it’s not—it’d be lousy and lazy to describe it that way when it ignores that he’s always dreaded this and has been near-resigned to it for maybe years now. He won’t call it what it’s not, but—but it evokes something similar, some same instinct of fight or fight in his gut.

Deku should be back soon. Should’ve been back at least a day or two ago, realistically, and the extra time spent waiting has been as much an agony as it’s been a relief. Katsuki doesn’t know if no news is good news, or simply a delaying of the inevitable.

He slams his fist on the desk with a force that rockets through his knuckles, up his wrist, a roar of frustration forcing its way from his chest, and then runs his hands through his hair, mindlessly tugging. He isn’t even supposed to be in here right now. If his mother knew he was shirking his training—“training,” she calls the endless prayers and rituals and meditations and recitations and time wasted on his knees doing the same things that never fucking worked—she’d no doubt bite his head off. No matter.

Deku should’ve been back by now. They’d sent him, finally, after years of talking and talking and driving Katsuki insane about it, to see if he was the hero of legend. If he would be the one to draw the Sword that Seals the Darkness. And Katsuki wants, more than anything, to vomit.

It’s all he’s been fucking hearing, for years now. Apparently it doesn’t matter that Deku’s not like him. That he’s not special. He’s not royal. He’s not descended from a god, or a hero, or any legend of note. He’s not even Sheikah by blood, but he’d been raised among them and trained among them and apparently had worked so hard, despite being such a nobody, that out of all the actual Sheikah they’d chosen to send him to the castle under the impression he’d be a suitable companion and protector for Katsuki.

If the assumption that he needed companionship or protection weren’t degrading enough, they had to add insult to injury by encouraging someone as weak and timid as Deku to think he could believe he was on Katsuki’s level and even capable of protecting him. Katsuki had the blood of Hyrule’s patron god in his veins, the legacy of a sealing magic that had been passed down through the entire royal line, but, hey, Deku had a can-do attitude and all the backbone of a welcome mat, so that made them equals, did it?

Somewhere along this line of thought, Katsuki’s hands had started shaking, and he squeezed his eyes shut so tightly it hurt as he leaned all his weight on the desk. Because if everyone was right about Deku after all—then he wasn’t just equal. If the sword chose him, let him wield it—then he’d have mastered his destiny, and all it’d have taken was plucking a blade from its stand.

This shrinking, trembling little nobody wouldn’t be equal to Katsuki, who’d tried and tried and tried and tried and couldn’t unlock the power that was his birthright.

He’d be above him. For having mastered his destiny in a way Katsuki just—just couldn’t.

Fuck, destiny—that was the real worst part, wasn’t it?

Not just that Katsuki worked harder than anyone else he’d ever fucking met and had nothing to show for it but scathing gossip from his own subjects, not just that the entire court hailed Deku as some sort of prodigy who could ever be mistaken for his peer, not just that the damned nerd might actually even shatter Katsuki’s entire understanding of the world and come back with that sword on his back as indisputable proof that everyone was fucking right and he was better than Katsuki after all and Katsuki really was useless if he couldn’t even measure up to someone so—

It doesn’t matter. It’s not just that. It’s that if Deku comes back wielding that sword, their destinies are tied forever. The hero of Hyrule, and the descendant of Bakusatsuo—they were always bound, by fate, by destiny.

If everyone’s right about Deku, Katsuki will never be rid of him—will never have hope of being free of this constant reminder that there’s nothing special about him. That the blood of Bakusatsuo in his veins, the royal position of his birth, the sealing power supposedly lying dormant within, the favor of each of the three Goddesses granted to him by his bloodline and status as Hyrule’s crown prince—it’s not enough. He had every head start in the world, and he can’t fucking measure up.

And this nobody, with no significant blood, no amazing history, no special boon—he could achieve what Katsuki never will, with ease, it seems, and Katsuki will be tied to him for the rest of their lives. He’ll never escape it.

He really does want to vomit.

He doesn’t know what he’ll do when Deku gets back—because it feels like an inevitability, at this point, how everyone talks about this. Maybe that’ll finally be it—maybe he’ll just fucking snap and the power will come flooding out of him and raze this kingdom to the fucking ground in an uncontrolled rage- and anguish-fueled haze.

That thought doesn’t bring him any sort of bitter relief, either.

Manifesting his power, being able to carry the fate of this kingdom on his shoulders—it was the one and only goal he’d worked for his entire life. Not even resentful misery at a merciless fate can erase that—can take away the need to have others see him, to have them know that he’s competent enough, strong enough, powerful enough to carry that weight. No petty destruction could bring him the same—the same—not even satisfaction, but relief.

Katsuki doesn’t just want the gossip mongers to say he’s good enough. He needs it.

Just as he’s preparing to slump into the chair beside his desk—to hell with training and prayer; he’s more than shown his devotion and dedication, and even if one of the three Goddesses or Bakusatsuo himself were to see fit to come back to this realm to personally unlock his power for him, it’s going to take something he hasn’t been doing nonstop for ten years already—he hears footsteps on the stone signaling someone’s approach, and he tenses.

“Your Highness?” The attendant who stands in the doorway might spark apprehension at the best of times—but right now Katsuki’s nerves are frayed and he’s solidly at his wit’s end, and there’s something he can’t place in the young man’s tone and expression that grates at him like nails on a chalkboard. He knows, before the attendant even opens his mouth once more, what will come out. “Midoriya Izuku has returned from the Great Hyrule Forest. Her Majesty the Queen expects your presence in the throne room immediately.”

Fuck.

Fuck.

Katsuki barely registers anything past the word returned, not once his ears have begun ringing, and it wasn’t panic before but it feels like it now, and he really can’t fucking stand this. He nods dully and thinks there’s probably a scowl on his face, but he doubts it has its usual ferocity even as he grits his teeth to bite out, voice hollow, “Thanks. I’ll be there. You’re dismissed.”

The man doesn’t so much as twitch at Katsuki’s lack of formality. Obviously the castle staff all know to expect it by now. Less expected is the way he doesn’t so much as budge at Katsuki’s dismissal, even when Katsuki moves to get past him. He has to change; he’s not going to the throne room in his ceremonial prayer garb, but the attendant opens his mouth and seems to brace himself for backlash.

“Her Majesty was insistent that you come immediately—”

Katsuki rolls his eyes. Of course the old hag had been insistent, had been up the attendant’s ass about making sure the man would be up his ass about getting there. Well, they can both fuck off.

“I’ll be there,” he interrupts, halting just in front of the attendant to glare up at him. “Now fuck off already.”

The attendant hesitates only a few moments longer, likely less than enthusiastic at being caught in the middle of a battle of wills between the infamous queen regent and crown prince, but the conflict at least serves as a catalyst to pull Katsuki back into his own body, enough so that he knows the severity of his glare is back in full force. Predictably, the attendant caves.

“Your Highness,” the young man acknowledges with a nod of his head, before he beats a hasty retreat. Katsuki’s satisfaction is less than fleeting—gone in such a flash he can’t be sure it was actually there. It doesn’t matter. With something heavy and leaden in the back of his throat, he stomps out of his study and across the walkway to his room. He waits only for the door closing behind the unwanted messenger before he begins to tug off his ceremonial clothes, a process that takes hardly a couple moments.

It’s not so quick a process to don his usual attire. Still, it’s not so slow as he’d like, either, as he mindlessly and efficiently dresses with all the numb haste of a man determined not to be late to his own funeral.

He doesn’t want to go. He doesn’t want this news. He doesn’t want to face the nightmare scenario that’s going to be realized right before his eyes, but there’s no avoiding the inevitable—and at least there might, might be some avoiding of his mother’s temper if he doesn’t piss the old hag off by holding everything up. Despite every instinct in his body screaming for him to linger and hold off on what’s coming, he makes his way out of his own room, through the brief passageways to the sanctum.

He can’t say what it is that’s roiling under his skin, mostly because he doesn’t even feel like he’s inhabiting his own skin right now. His body’s moving itself, his mind is—it’s somewhere, but it feels miles away. There’s a grievous swooping in his gut and an uneasy tremble through all his limbs but it feels… muted, like he’s somehow disconnected.

There’s only each step his feet take, and the dread that continues to flood his system.

It turns out, his mother being such a bitch about him coming immediately was completely fucking unnecessary—not a shock, but he’s too numb to get irritated about it—because in the brief, near-unseeing gaze he flashes around the vast room as he enters it’s obvious that Deku’s not even here yet, that hardly anyone is, apart from the queen.

He bows the way he always has to whenever one of them enters the room with another, and he doesn’t even have the presence of mind for his blood to boil at the requirement like it normally does. He can’t focus on anything long enough for that.

Stiffly approaching where she stands in front of her throne to stand at her right side, Katsuki’s barely conscious of his posture or propriety. It’s all he can do to take his place, face forward, and play his part through the jumbled way his thoughts crash restlessly around his head in waves.

“Katsuki.” He doesn’t turn to see her face, but he can hear the disappointment dripping from her tone, and it makes him feel—feel—disgusting, somehow, a mental sensation like something slimy washing over his skin. “It took you long enough.”

As dazed as he is, he’s perfectly divided between the overbearing urge to snap back at her or simply not respond at all in his hazy state. Decorum, however, would mark both as unforgivable, a matter he’s grappled with all his life, moreso now that his own kingdom has started to loathe him. It takes more effort than it ever has in the past to strain for a response suitable enough to fit him through the situation, his thoughts disjointed as they are.

“I came as fast as I was able, Your Majesty.”

He doesn’t call her mother when he grits the words out—he never does. He hasn’t in years, maybe a decade. If they were alone, he’d have called her hag instead, and likely have gotten a smack to the head for it—but they’re almost never alone, almost always surrounded by an unremarkable backdrop of servants and guards and courtiers, all always listening for Katsuki to find some new way to disgrace himself.

The queen makes a scolding, derisive noise, and his hands twitch as somewhere faded and distant he feels the flare of indignation she always brings out in him, but he can’t maintain a hold on this conversation any more than anything else right now. He merely clenches his fists and, in effort to keep his gaze from flashing around the room wildly as if in search of escape, he finds a spot to the left of the main entrance, where the wall meets the floor, and levels his gaze there, eyes unfocused and unseeing.

Trying to calm himself has never come easy in the past and it doesn’t now, and he loses himself in the attempt—he couldn’t say how long it is before the massive double doors finally swing open, a servant announcing, “Your Majesty, Midoriya Izuku and his companion have come, just as you requested, ma’am.”

As simple as that, any attempt at composure is gone—once again, Katsuki’s ears ring, and it feels as though the floor has dropped out from under him as he swallows roughly, nearly dizzy for how quickly he pales. Fuck, it’s here, it’s finally happening, and there’s nothing he can do to stop it—for the first time in years he almost actually feels religious, enough so to want to drop to his knees and beg Bakusatsuo or the three Goddesses or—or fucking someone to just—to stop this before it happens, to save him from this.

He doesn’t. As it is, it takes all his strength not to sway to his knees anyways, but he keeps standing, faking steadiness with all he has in him.

His gaze doesn’t move from the spot he’d affixed it, still so inattentive he can barely register as Deku and another body move further into the room, each dropping to a knee before him and his mother, heads bowed low in deference. Fucking hell, he doesn’t know how to get through this.

“Izuku,” his mother greets, and Katsuki clenches his teeth, shuts his eyes, tries and fails to take a steadying breath. The level of familiarity is, of course, far from common, but the relationship between the Sheikah clan and the royal family has always been closer than most.

Even so, Katsuki knows she only goes as far as Deku’s given name because she knows Katsuki thinks he’s above needing Deku around as a companion, or protector, or gods forbid an equal, and she wants him to know he isn’t above shit. An awful lot of what she does is centered around trying to send him that message.

“If my understanding is correct, the day we’ve all been anticipating has come, and the Sword that Seals the Darkness has finally been drawn. This is so?”

Against his will, Katsuki’s eyes pry themselves open, and for all his reluctance his eyes flick unbidden to Deku. There’s something different about him, something beyond description—he seems… more confident, more vivid. He seems steady and unyielding, the green of his hair even seems fucking brighter somehow, and the way the light shines off of it almost creates an illusion of lightning crackling through it until Katsuki blinks. Lightning, a symbol of Farore. Fuck. Even with his head still somewhat downturned, Katsuki can see there’s a new light in his eyes, and it really sinks in.

The churning in his stomach is back, moreso than before, and Katsuki doesn’t know if he’s going to be able to move an inch before his nerves make him empty the contents of his stomach all over the throne room’s floor. He’s never felt this fucking helpless or hopeless, despair taking over at the blatant change in Deku that must have come from—

The thought stops cold as Katsuki starts to tear his eyes away, and he finally realizes something crucial.

There’s no sword at Deku’s back.

No grand, enchanted blade, no magnificent work of craftsmanship bearing the familiar Hyrulean Royal Family’s symbol. Not at his back, not in a parcel in his hands, nowhere. Even the shortsword at his waist is the same shitty eight-fold blade he’s always had, definitely not something new. There’s a hiccup in Katsuki’s thoughts, mind simply stumbling to a stop in its tracks as he fails to process for a moment. There’s… no way this can be the case. He’s heard the kingdom talk for years. He’d known the futility of hoping against the predicted outcome. He’d heard his mother just now.

How can Deku not have the sword?

His mind still hasn’t caught up, but some part of him must have, because his eyes finally register the other person in the room, the one who’d entered with Deku. His gaze shifts over unthinkingly, taking in hair that’s an absolutely atrocious shade of red, styled into the stupidest fucking spikes Katsuki has ever seen. He looks over the unfamiliar new face with the same lack of comprehension, seeing but not exactly perceiving the strong jawline paired with soft features; the pointed nose paired with rounded cheeks; the large, cat-like crimson eyes paired with small, furrowed red brows. He’s dressed in the typical armor of a Hylian soldier, though there’s no helmet to be seen to cover his absurd hair.

A feeling washes over Katsuki, one he has no idea how to name or place, one unfamiliar but that he knows, knows is somehow caused by the sight of this boy he doesn’t recognize at all. He can’t look away, except to briefly stare behind him.

To stare at a point, just over his left shoulder, where a masterpiece of a sword is strapped to his back. The hilt is elaborate; a deep, royal blue, with a green pattern woven around the hilt, and golden accents embedded in the wing-shaped guard. Katsuki’s never seen it before, but he knows, feels it somewhere deep and undeniable, that this is the Blade of Evil’s Bane.

Katsuki stops breathing. His eyes snap back to the boy’s face and slowly, finally, understanding dawns, seeps through him with a dizzying sense of relief so intense he almost—he almost fucking starts crying. Deku’s not the chosen of the Master Sword. Deku’s not the Hero of Hyrule. Deku’s not—he’s not suddenly and out of the blue a master of everything Katsuki’s a failure at, he’s not tethered to Katsuki’s side for the rest of his life—Katsuki can—can escape this, can actually fucking breathe—

And he does, lets out a breath so painfully shaky with overwhelming gratitude towards fucking any one of the gods out there who had a hand in this, who saw fit to grant him this reprieve, because there’s no outcome he can imagine worse than being some fated pair with Deku. He hopes the exhale isn’t too audible, too obvious to those in the room.

“Yes, Your Majesty, ma’am.”

Deku’s answer startles Katsuki, makes him realize—fucking—this entire winding, tumultuous journey his thoughts and emotions have trekked through has somehow taken no more than a handful of seconds. And only now, secondarily, does Katsuki’s understanding that this newcomer is the sword’s chosen shift from what it means for him and Deku, to what it means for them.

His first thought, taking in the sight of this other boy with his new understanding that this is the prophesied hero of legend he’s to save the entirety of the kingdom with is—just who in the hell is this clown?

“This marks a day of grave importance, then—and prodigious news for the kingdom, as well,” Katsuki hears his mother say beside him with the voice she uses to seem important and respectable in front of people who matter. (Katsuki clearly isn’t one of those people, in her mind.) “This makes the forewarned return of the Calamity seem all the more real—but it also gives us another weapon required to bring about its downfall. Nearly all of the pieces are in place to secure our victory.”

Katsuki doesn’t miss how pointedly she says the word nearly, and it brings him back into his own head, if only slightly.

“You understand, it is a shock to many of us in the castle that Izuku is not the hero foretold—I doubt there’s a soul in the room who isn’t surprised to discover it—but it is an honor to meet the champion with the spirit of the hero, chosen by the sacred blade. Is it true that you are a knight?”

A knight? So he’s not merely a run of the mill soldier, the way his armor suggests. Katsuki’s gaze is analytical now, and as the rush that accompanied his worst fears being alleviated finally ebbs, he finds new, subdued unease and dread taking their old place. What kind of person is this, the hero he’s destined to face the return of the Calamity beside? And—and what does it mean, that he’s drawn the sword when Katsuki can’t even manage a mere spark of the power that he’s supposed to master?

The boy nods, the very image of approval-seeking, meek respect. Katsuki feels his nose wrinkle.

“This is Kirishima Eijiro, Your Majesty,” Deku pipes up, and almost as soon as Katsuki’s irritation flares that he’s speaking for this Kirishima, the redhead shoots Deku a glance that almost looks… grateful? Katsuki wants to roll his eyes. “I—I was passing to the Great Hyrule Forest the way we planned, and when I neared the training camp by Rauru Settlement—Kirishima’s one of their most competent trainers; he trains all of their soldiers in fighting in unconventional styles—he’s familiar with how almost every army in Hyrule fights, and—”

“Izuku,” the queen interrupts, flatly. She can fake familiarity, but she can’t fake care, or patience—and while she makes it clear she must like Deku more than Katsuki, it can’t possibly be by much.

A brief glance reveals that Deku flushes, but he doesn’t startle like a rabbit frightened of its own shadow, anymore. Katsuki’s brow furrows. What in the hell is his deal, now? Even as he wonders at this, he can’t keep his gaze from the shitty-haired asshole that Deku has brought.

“Apologies, Your Majesty! I—he helped me dispatch of a monster camp that had set up too close to Rauru Settlement, that I encountered on the way, and he offered to accompany me to the sword, for safety in numbers. When we finally reached the heart of the Great Hyrule Forest, where the Great Deku Tree watched over the blade...” There’s something in the way Deku says the name, something that—that reeks of awe, and… gratitude? Something like it, at least. “I wasn’t able to draw it—it—trying took a lot out of me. But Kirishima felt drawn to it, and when I suggested he try his luck, he drew it with ease. I’m more than sure of it, he does bear the spirit of the hero, and he’ll serve the kingdom well, ma’am.”

There’s a silence that follows while his mother seems to ponder who the fuck knows what, Katsuki’s eyes still intent on the face he can’t seem to pull his gaze away from, still studying. He feels sick again, but this time the sensation’s not as physical. With ease, Deku had said. This Kirishima had drawn the blade—had mastered his destiny—had bested Katsuki—with ease.

He doesn’t know what to make of him, this boy who’s remained stone-still and stoic through this entire explanation, but he can’t help but wonder—how the fuck is this fair? As if sensing Katsuki’s thoughts, the knight suddenly chances a glance upwards for nearly the first time since entering, his eyes finding Katsuki’s as if magnetized, curious and open.

Something jolts through Katsuki so overpowering and fierce that his heart skips a beat, before galloping ahead at a breakneck pace as his breath hitches, transfixed by a sensation he cannot name. It’s—somehow, red locked with red, Katsuki is overcome by what feels almost like familiarity, but so much more than that, so much weightier. The way the knight’s eyes widen, he thinks it might be mutual.

Katsuki rips his eyes away, feeling unsteady. What the fuck was that? What the hell?

He obstinately refuses to look back, no matter the odd draw he’s felt so far, adamant not to let himself be buried once more by—whatever the hell that phenomenon was. He grits his teeth, fists clenching tighter, and forces himself to glare Deku down instead.

“And this Kirishima cannot explain any of this for himself?” his mother finally asks, and it’s one of the rare, almost nonexistent times she’s ever said something Katsuki would want to ask himself. He still will not allow himself to look back to Kirishima, but Deku shoots the knight a look, and there’s another brief pause while something seems to pass between them.

“He… doesn’t speak much, Your Majesty.” Deku only pulls his own stare away from Kirishima halfway through the sentence, and it rankles at Katsuki to know he can read Deku well enough to tell that the look on his face means he’s reluctant and unsatisfied to be speaking as he is, that he’s not being fully truthful. His expression shifts, though, to absolute faith and certainty as he asserts, “But his skill with a blade speaks for itself, and I know beyond a doubt that you’ll only ever need to see him in battle once to agree, ma’am. He has my complete faith.”

The noise Katsuki’s mother makes in response puts him on edge, if only because he’s on the receiving end of it so often. She makes it when she won’t go so far as to assert her disapproval, but she wants it made clear that she’s withholding any approval as well.

Katsuki chances a glance to his side, to gauge her demeanor in his periphery. She’s eyeing Kirishima appraisingly, a look Katsuki has often associated with a lioness looking for the weakest in the herd to hunt down, for anything she can exploit. She seems, soon enough, to come to a decision, tilting her head upwards slightly.

“Then may I once again extend my welcome, and emphasize what an honor it is to meet the wielder of the sacred blade. Rise, both of you.”

Both stand from the knee they had taken, rising with straight postures, hands clasped behind their backs, and heads remaining bowed respectfully.

“Kirishima, it sounds as though you are more than dedicated, and notably accomplished. This is something we will need more of in the castle, as we devote ourselves with singleminded focus to our final preparations to thwart the Calamity’s return.” Again, the words are pointed, directed more to Katsuki than the one they’re actually addressed to. Katsuki can feel her eyes on him, oppressive, as she continues, “Starting tomorrow, you are to take over as the head of Prince Katsuki’s personal guard, and you are to become his appointed knight. You must accompany him at all times, to ensure his safety and to prepare for the role the two of you will share when All For One once again rears its head. Is this clear?”

Katsuki can barely even catch how Kirishima bows and nods with prompt obedience as his own head swivels, mouth agape as he stares incredulously at his mother.

“Your Majesty,” he bites out, trying with all his might to hold onto some shred of etiquette despite the red tinting at the edges of his vision, “I don’t think that’s necessary. I don’t need—”

“What you need, Katsuki,” she cuts him off sharply, glare heated and tone caustic, “is to remember your place, and to meet the needs of your kingdom in the coming Calamity. Perhaps the competence of this knight, who has no such hindrances with meeting his own destiny, will rub off on you. This is not negotiable, and you will not treat it as such.”

Hot shame and an angry flush burn at him equally. There has to be something—something he can say—some argument he can make to get himself out of this, but as he struggles desperately to find it, fucking Deku clears his throat.

“Pardon my interruption, Your Majesty, but if Kirishima is going to be with Kacchan from now on, I think that makes this a good time to explain that I won’t be able to remain at the castle any longer.”

Katsuki and the queen both snap their gazes to him, Katsuki livid at the interruption as though his time to argue his case was over, and his mother with surprise. No one simply informs the queen something like this, without asking her leave.

“And why might that be?” Her tone is even, but Katsuki’s sure everyone in the room can hear the underlying dangerous note in her voice at the perceived insubordination.

Deku meets her eye, and it strikes Katsuki as wrong. He was never able to do so so steadily before. “Ma’am, in the wake of the prophecy of the Calamity’s return, I know most people in the kingdom have been looking to old legends again—so I’m sure you’re familiar with the legend behind the Great Deku Tree. A hero sacred to the Goddess Farore, gifted with Her blessing and tasked with roaming the land to be a caretaker to Her creations.”

Katsuki is preparing to snap a dismissal, unaware and uncaring where he’s going with this, but Deku presses on, “A hero who fulfills this duty for as many centuries as they are able, before choosing a successor and settling in one place to transform into the next Great Deku Tree, to protect Farore’s creations from up close.”

Choosing a successor.

The purposeful way he says the words, the shift in his demeanor—Katsuki stares at him, agape and disbelieving. There’s no way, it’s—it doesn’t seem possible. And why him, of all people?

“Your Majesty, the Great Deku Tree of our time—the legendary warrior, All Might—he awoke when Kirishima claimed the sword. And after he spoke to us, he chose me as his successor, and passed Farore’s blessing to me. I have to return to the Great Hyrule Forest after this to learn from him, ma’am, and after that… I don’t know.”

A murmur passes through the room, making Katsuki actively aware, for the first time, of its other occupants. Mostly guards, but a small handful of courtiers as well—he’d known they were there, before, but they had faded in the background as they often did for him; seeming little more than an everyday backdrop to his and his mother’s power struggles. He only really registers them all now to share in their shock at having such unexpected turns of events, twice in one day.

He stares at Deku, and it occurs to him—yes, the rest of the kingdom was wrong. Deku wasn’t special. He hadn’t had any grand destiny, or power, or role always living inside him. He wasn’t born with the same greatness that—that the chosen hero and god-blood prince were said to have. Instead, he’d forged his own destiny, made himself into someone special, on his own terms.

Katsuki feels envy like he’s never felt in his life blow through him, grinding his teeth so hard he swears he can hear it. He’s always hated Deku, but this—this is too much, it feels like acid eating away at his insides.

In the stunned silence that captivates the room, Deku seems to understand that no one would dare or see any need to challenge his right to leave. He draws himself to his full height, and adds, “It’s been my honor to serve the royal family, Your Majesty, but I know with Kirishima here that Kacchan will be in good hands. You can trust Kirishima to keep him safe.”

In good hands—as if he needs that—as if he’s still so helpless and useless as they’ve always treated him, like he really needs protecting and constant accompaniment. Deku says it, and Katsuki feels a familiar bitterness welling up as he finally looks once more to Kirishima, a fierce glower taking over his expression.

Kirishima having the sword is better than Deku having it—anything is—but Katsuki doesn’t, can’t find it in himself to feel gracious to the knight for that.

He knows resentment when he feels it. And he’s not going to shake it—not now, maybe not ever.

If this asshole thinks he’s just going to trail behind Katsuki like a good little knight and not deal with the crown prince’s ire, he’s got another thing coming.

[thorne93]

Unforeseen Chasm (Part 10)

Prompt: Two sisters fall for men that are absolute enemies. The love they have could tear all of them apart, or it could bring them together.

Word Count: 966

Warnings: Language

Note: This is by far the longest thing I’ve ever written (including my novels). It’s a collaboration with the amazing @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo. It started as a funny “What if…?” and it evolved and got huge. This took two years to write. We are both proud and happy and we hope you enjoy it. It follows from Thor 1 to Endgame in the MCU. Some of the timelines may be off in order to fit certain people, and some characters may show up earlier or in different ways than they have in the movie. But for the most part, it follows the MCU. It also has a bit of crossover with some other Marvel characters throughout the story.

Masterlist for Unforeseen Chasm

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shannon,

That is wonderful to hear! I'm so glad things are moving in the right direction for you two. Tell him straight from me that if he hurts you, no suit of armor will stop me from hurting him right back. ; ) I hope he knows that he's getting the whole package with you, right? You aren't some science groupie he can just cast aside. You're a stunning, marvelous, brilliant, gorgeous woman who deserves a man of the same caliber. He better know that.

I am glad to hear he's happy about Lucky.

I bet it does feel like a dream! I know how long you pined over him. It's a relief to know you two are finally together!

That's fantastic about the apartment! Although I can't imagine wanting to return home just yet.

Shannon, you won't believe this. Life on Asgard is as magical as it gets. By day, I'm helping teams of scientists build structures, discover new ways to work with elements, and build gadgets. I have started working on plans for a small rocket ship for them. By night, I'm training with Thor.

It's fantastic, I'm getting so good now I actually pinned Volstagg and Fandral. I still need to conquer Sif, Hogun, and Thor. When I'm not working or training physically, Frigga is teaching me how to be a princess. She teaches me the ways of the royalty. How to hold my head, how to eat, how to dance.

And if I'm not doing any of that, Loki is showing me magic and telling me about their customs. He is incredibly sweet despite my first impression of him. He asks me every day how I'm doing and if I need help with anything or need help adjusting. If I make a social faux pas, he merely corrects me quietly and apologizes for me.

He's... he's amazing, Shannon. He loves listening to me talk about my work, and asks me questions about it all the time. Just as I ask him nonstop questions about his life and his magic.

And ha-ha. It isn't like that. So he's handsome, and kind, and hilarious, and a genius. He knows so much poetry. Their poetry here is astonishing. It rivals Frost and Shakespeare. He loves showing me new books every day.

Thor is focusing on building my muscle and physical ability while Loki has said, "Your mind is your best weapon. You don't possess the braun that Thor and Volstagg do, so it's best you learn how to outwit your opponent." So he's teaching me ways to be tricky and clever.

I would love to see me duel you with a sword. It could either be hilarious or catastrophic, haha. A new training room... Hmm, that's curious. I wonder what it's for.

And do not worry about me, sis. I'm doing just fine. None of the royal family would let anything happen to me.

Speaking of family, how are Tom and Diane? Have you talked to your parents lately? Is anything new with them? Have you told anyone where I've gone?

I shall try to check on the PopTarts, haha. I'm not sure Heimdall can just open the bifrost for some breakfast pastries though. We'll see....

No news on my parents just yet. I will let you know if we hear something more.

Ever yours,

Y/N

——————

Y/N, my dear,

You make me blush! If he knew the tricks you have up your sleeve he wouldn’t dare cross you. I’ll let him know. As happy as everything is, there’s been some rough patches with Shield lately but that was eventually going to happen. There's been some changes to what's going on here at the tower. 

It's good to hear about everything that's going on over there, you'll become a legend when you finish with the rocket and have won a fight against Sif or Thor. 

Princess Y/N, I like the sound of that. Maybe when you come back you’ll be Queen Y/N. Very kind of Queen Frigga to show you their customs. 

Loki seems like a kind and curious man. I hope to soon meet him. And I look forward to seeing that selfie if you and him together. It's true what he says your mind has always been your greatest weapon, no need for swordsmanship or magic just 100% Y/N smarts. 

It would probably be a mix of catastrophe and hilarity. I can't wait to see you! Do you know how much more you might be gone?  

I would hope that they do keep you out of harm's way. I would never forgive them or myself. 

They’re doing great. They do so terribly miss you as they haven't seen you since before you left for Asgard. Turns out they’re planning to go cruising through Europe which is a nice change to being in Nevada all the time. They were worried that something might happen to you being in a whole new universe. But after hearing from you through my letters they are less stressed out. 

The only people who know of your whereabouts are Tony, our family and myself. We’ve tried to keep things quiet for the most part. 

On the pop tart agenda I could send a small pack with each letter and of different flavors so he can have a pick of one. I doubt the poor raven would be able to carry a ton of stuff. 

Speaking of raven, it seems to like roaming near Bruce. It’s been perching nearby watching him look through his notes or even just doing some meditation. He’s gotten me into the habit of drinking tea lately I don't crave the energy from coffee like I used to. 

Fingers crossed you get the news soon enough about your parents 

Hugs and kisses.

Shannon

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List: @essie1876 @magpiegirl80 @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @iamwarrenspeace @marvel-imagines-yes-please @superwholocked524

@missinstantgratification @thejemersoninferno @rda1989 @munlis @thefridgeismybestie @bubblyanarocks3 @igiveupicantthinkofausername @kaliforniacoastalteens @feelmyroarrrr @kaeling @friendlyneighbourhoodweirdo​ @damalseer​ @heyitscam99​ @yknott81​ @sorryimacrapwriter​ @glitterquadricorn​ @xxqueenofisolationxx @little-dis-kaalista-pythonissama @bittersweetunicorm​ @alyssaj23​ @sea040561​ @princess76179​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @sarahp879​ @malfoysqueen14​ @ellallheart​ @breezy1415​ @marvelmayo​ @random-fluffy-pink-unicorn @cocosierra94 @hardcollectionworldtrash @capsmuscles @marvelloushamilton

Loki: @lostinspace33​ @ultrarebelheart​ @lenawiinchester​ @esoltis280​ @tngrayson​ @wangdeasang​ @harrymewmew @jayfantasyatyourservice​

UC:

@lokis-high-priestess​

[mrs-dragneel-stark-solo]

Unforseen Chasm (part 10)

Part 10 of Unforseen Chasm

Prompt: Two sisters fall for men that are absolute enemies. The love they have could tear all of them apart, or it could bring them together. Word Count: 966 Note: This is by far the longest thing I’ve ever written (including my other fic series). first major Collab with my best friend @thorne93​​ what was first a simple “what if” moment turned into a two year writing session and I’ve never been more prouder of myself than when i started my first series. goes through most of the MCU plots there are some changes to accommodate for what we wanted and there is a bit of a crossover between the MCU and other characters. I hope you guys enjoy reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Shannon,

That is wonderful to hear! I'm so glad things are moving in the right direction for you two. Tell him straight from me that if he hurts you, no suit of armor will stop me from hurting him right back. ; ) I hope he knows that he's getting the whole package with you, right? You aren't some science groupie he can just cast aside. You're a stunning, marvelous, brilliant, gorgeous woman who deserves a man of the same caliber. He better know that.

I am glad to hear he's happy about Lucky.

I bet it does feel like a dream! I know how long you pined over him. It's a relief to know you two are finally together!

That's fantastic about the apartment! Although I can't imagine wanting to return home just yet.

Shannon, you won't believe this. Life on Asgard is as magical as it gets. By day, I'm helping teams of scientists build structures, discover new ways to work with elements, and build gadgets. I have started working on plans for a small rocket ship for them. By night, I'm training with Thor.

It's fantastic, I'm getting so good now I actually pinned Volstagg and Fandral. I still need to conquer Sif, Hogun, and Thor. When I'm not working or training physically, Frigga is teaching me how to be a princess. She teaches me the ways of the royalty. How to hold my head, how to eat, how to dance.

And if I'm not doing any of that, Loki is showing me magic and telling me about their customs. He is incredibly sweet despite my first impression of him. He asks me every day how I'm doing and if I need help with anything or need help adjusting. If I make a social faux pas, he merely corrects me quietly and apologizes for me.

He's... he's amazing, Shannon. He loves listening to me talk about my work, and asks me questions about it all the time. Just as I ask him nonstop questions about his life and his magic.

And ha-ha. It isn't like that. So he's handsome, and kind, and hilarious, and a genius. He knows so much poetry. Their poetry here is astonishing. It rivals Frost and Shakespeare. He loves showing me new books every day.

Thor is focusing on building my muscle and physical ability while Loki has said, "Your mind is your best weapon. You don't possess the braun that Thor and Volstagg do, so it's best you learn how to outwit your opponent." So he's teaching me ways to be tricky and clever.

I would love to see me duel you with a sword. It could either be hilarious or catastrophic, haha. A new training room... Hmm, that's curious. I wonder what it's for.

And do not worry about me, sis. I'm doing just fine. None of the royal family would let anything happen to me.

Speaking of family, how are Tom and Diane? Have you talked to your parents lately? Is anything new with them? Have you told anyone where I've gone?

I shall try to check on the PopTarts, haha. I'm not sure Heimdall can just open the bifrost for some breakfast pastries though. We'll see....

No news on my parents just yet. I will let you know if we hear something more.

Ever yours,

Y/N

Y/N, my dear,

You make me blush! If he knew the tricks you have up your sleeve he wouldn’t dare cross you. I’ll let him know. As happy as everything is, there’s been some rough patches with Shield lately but that was eventually going to happen. There's been some changes to what's going on here at the tower.

It's good to hear about everything that's going on over there, you'll become a legend when you finish with the rocket and have won a fight against Sif or Thor.

Princess Y/N, I like the sound of that. Maybe when you come back you’ll be Queen Y/N. Very kind of Queen Frigga to show you their customs.

Loki seems like a kind and curious man. I hope to soon meet him. And I look forward to seeing that selfie if you and him together. It's true what he says your mind has always been your greatest weapon, no need for swordsmanship or magic just 100% Y/N smarts.

It would probably be a mix of catastrophe and hilarity. I can't wait to see you! Do you know how much more you might be gone?  

I would hope that they do keep you out of harm's way. I would never forgive them or myself.

They’re doing great. They do so terribly miss you as they haven't seen you since before you left for Asgard. Turns out they’re planning to go cruising through Europe which is a nice change to being in Nevada all the time. They were worried that something might happen to you being in a whole new universe. But after hearing from you through my letters they are less stressed out.

The only people who know of your whereabouts are Tony, our family and myself. We’ve tried to keep things quiet for the most part.

On the pop tart agenda I could send a small pack with each letter and of different flavors so he can have a pick of one. I doubt the poor raven would be able to carry a ton of stuff.

Speaking of raven, it seems to like roaming near Bruce. It’s been perching nearby watching him look through his notes or even just doing some meditation. He’s gotten me into the habit of drinking tea lately I don't crave the energy from coffee like I used to.

Fingers crossed you get the news soon enough about your parents

Hugs and kisses.

Shannon

Unforseen Chasm Tag list- @reigningqueenofwords​ @oldfreakything​

Tag list- @cas-you-assbutt-dean-needs-you​ @winchester-writes​ @winchesterenthusiast​ @georgialouisea​ @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog​ @livelikeawinchester​ @sammysbuttcheek​ @bran2015 @misz-adrii​ @sandlee44​ @womanxofletters​ @natsuccs​ @childishhoebinoo​ @depressed-moose-78 @expecteddifferent​ @girl-next-door-writes​ @fanaticfanfiction​ @dakotapaigelove​ @sassy-spn-knight-of-hell​ @weclassygirl​ @adefectivedetective​

[trekraider]

Kiss me like the final meal

Fandom: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Good Omens (TV) Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens) Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens)  

Crawly is in a garden. Not just any garden, but The Garden. The very first garden. Hell has sent him to do a quick temptation, and it was almost too easy. As though it was meant to happen. He slithers up the wall and at its apex is almost blinded by the view. The sun is glinting on the sand and searing his eyes, and beside him stands a being of the most intense light he’s ever witnessed. But he has been fooled by beauty and golden locks before, and he knows better than to trust an angel.

“Didn’t you used to have a sword?” Crawly asks, the first chapter in their story. The rest is history, though butchered by the words of mankind. 

**

He meets Aziraphale again, having grown fond of his own human form, and now his name is Crowley. No longer bent and forced down in supplication, not grovelling on the floor for those who see themselves superior. He is Crowley, and he’s been waiting to see Aziraphale for years. 

Their paths intersect in a crowd, animals and humans paired off two by two, and at the front of a barricade separating the species is a lone figure with glowing platinum hair. Crowley moves towards him, two by two, and slots himself at the Angel’s side. They wait for the storm.

**

Centuries pass before they run into each other again. Crowley sports a new haircut and his amber slit eyes are covered with dark lenses. It’s completely by chance, but Crowley gets this niggling feeling in his stomach at the thought of leaving. And then the Angel offers a temptation to him and his heart stutters in his chest. It’s quickly covered up and Aziraphale corrects himself, but Crowley feels drawn to him.

**

Crowley starts keeping tabs on Aziraphale - as much as he can without drawing suspicion from the Higher Ups and the Lower Downs. There is a revolution going on and it’s the perfect place for Crowley to find himself, amidst all the chaos, yet Aziraphale is there too and with his forked tongue he can taste that something has gone awry. He finds him in a cell awaiting execution, and that just won’t do. 

He freezes time around them, and behind Aziraphale tries to make himself look as nonchalant as possible. The Angel turns and says his name, his name, the chosen one that not even hell honors, and it melts something inside of him. He scoffs at Aziraphale’s excuses, plays up the demon act just enough to deter questions about his conveniently timed appearance, and gives into the hope that this time an angel won’t hurt him.

**

The Arrangement is so organic between them, and their run-ins change from coincidence to a steady routine. Clandestine meetings in parks, on buses, and soon enough Aziraphale is inviting him to his bookshop. 

Crowley feels his guard coming down, his walls caving, and after enough drinks he tests the waters and lets Aziraphale see his eyes again. It’s the most stark representation of his true nature, of what lurks within, and Aziraphale never shies away. Crowley realises that Aziraphale accepts him, wholly and without desire to change him. 

And by then he’s forced to admit he’s falling in an entirely new way.  

**

The fantasies started at least a thousand years ago, and not much about them has changed since they first came to him in the recesses of night, save for Aziraphale’s appearance and his latest gourmand proclivities. Crowley doesn’t hunger and doesn’t crave food. Not until he sees flecks of it dusting Aziraphale’s lips, rivulets of syrups and cocktails and other delightful concoctions dripping from him. 

As a demon, you would expect his mind to be laced with sinful, lustful images in this moment. Aziraphale sits across from him, one hand neatly folded in his lap while the other dips a spoon into a shallow ceramic bowl filled with chilled cucumber soup. Aziraphale raises it to his rosy lips and purses them as the cold liquid slips in, satisfaction dripping from him with a pleased moan as he wiggles in his seat. 

And Crowley is, as always, transfixed at the motion, the well-practiced puckering of his mouth. But instead of thoughts of ravishing, all he thinks of is Aziraphale's lips on his. Other demons would certainly laugh at him for wanting something so tender, almost holy in its nature, but he can't help it. And so he watches. It's become his favourite hobby, his obsession. 

Crowley’s mind is consumed with tasting it all on Aziraphale’s skin, delving his tongue into Aziraphale’s mouth to lap up every last trace of flavour until all that’s left is Aziraphale himself. He wants to remove every unworthy morsel that gets to luxuriate in Aziraphale’s mouth.  And then Aziraphale selfishly dabs the remnants away with a serviette.

**

It gets worse after the bomb drops, and then comes to a rolling stop. “You go too fast for me, Crowley.” He retreats. He feels disgusting, predatory, and doesn’t see Aziraphale again for a while.

**

It’s a Tuesday, which is nothing special in and of itself, but Crowley and Aziraphale are together again. Well, dining together, as they do for almost every meal lately with trouble looming on the horizon and who knows how much time they have left.

It’s the only time Crowley really humours that oh-so-mortal necessity, and if he’s being honest - which he compulsively is around Arizaphale (just not always out loud) - he still wouldn’t mind being together in other ways too.

Crowley sips gingerly from his own teacup, the closest he'll get to eating today. The noise of food distracts too much from Aziraphale, unsettling crunching and munching and saliva-slick chewing like cud. He drinks Aziraphale in with his eyes, and it's all the sustenance he needs. 

The corners of Aziraphale's mouth quirk and Crowley watches his lips form his name, and then again, which sends a tingle up his curved spine. It takes a third concerned Crowley, dear for him to snap back to attention and look Aziraphale in the eyes. 

"Hm? Sorry, what were you saying?" 

"I was asking if you'd like to go for a stroll after lunch." 

Walking makes it much harder for Crowley to watch Aziraphale, but it's closer than having a table between them and that's something he will always be amenable to. "Where to?" He asks, not that the destination matters because he would follow Aziraphale anywhere. 

**

It’s a random Thursday after the not-Apocalypse and this time Crowley is alone in his vast apartment. Away from the forces of hell and their energy, his anger has dissipated. His plants grow just as well, as vibrant and luscious as ever. Though they still tremble out of muscle memory, Crowley hasn't yelled at them in weeks. 

He waters them with flowing wrist movements, more akin to a barista making patterns in foam than a demon doing, well, anything. It’s methodical, meditative. And it’s the only thing keeping him sane right now.

Crowley is in a self-imposed exile. He feels on the verge of making a mistake, of slipping up in front of Aziraphale. His gaze has been too intense as of late and he needs these moments of privacy to centre himself before their meals, their jaunts, their too-late-in-the-night drinks in the bookshop. 

He puts the watering can away and drapes himself over the charcoal sheets of his bed, smooth and slippery as his own true skin. Crowley drags his hands down his face, covering his eyes as he rubs the inner duct with his fingers, and then ghost over his mouth. His thoughts are back to Aziraphale. Damn it. (Bless it?) 

He holds his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger, playing with the delicate, pliable skin, and wonders again what Aziraphale would be like. Crowley imagines carding his fingers through Aziraphale’s lamb-soft hair and capturing his mouth. He wants to feel teeth on his skin and to open the Angel’s mouth with his long tongue, to utterly devour him. 

But his mind never strays from Aziraphale’s mouth, never ventures away from the plumpness of those lips. He wants to worship at the throne of them, lay offerings of decadence on an altar to them, and revel in the liturgies they spout. Aziraphale has been the only one to utter kindnesses to him without motive, not once in 6000 years has he demanded anything of Crowley or made him feel lesser than. 

He might just die if he doesn’t kiss Aziraphale soon, and that would land him right back on Hell’s doorstep. 

**

Mere hours later, Crowley finds himself back in Aziraphale’s sitting room behind the bookshop. The Angel is pulling out a slate tray piled high with pleasures for his senses: jams, candied walnuts, ripe figs, medjool dates, apple slices, brie, port salut, garlic and herb boursin, smoked gouda with a deep brown rind, ricotta smothered in local honey, and toasted slices of baguette, with a pomegranate, feta, and rocket salad. 

He’s careful in his movements and glides effortlessly to place it on the low coffee table, not a single item shifting under his grasp. Crowley sits, restlessly shifting as red zinfandel swirls in his glass and stirs when Aziraphale sits down right next to him, sinking into the plush couch. 

Aziraphale cuts a wedge of brie with a slotted knife, and lays it on a slice of toasted baguette with sour cherry jam, and offers it to Crowley who politely declines. It crunches under Aziraphale’s teeth and he breathes out a sigh of relief as he chews. His tongue darts out to collect the crumbs and Crowley is captivated by it.

Crowley waivers for a moment, then gives in. “Actually, can I-,” he’s surprised at himself for even considering it, but he needs the distraction and it would feed his fantasies for another decade. “I’d like to try a piece. Whichever is your favourite.” Whichever tastes most like you, he means.

Aziraphale inclines his head. Crowley rarely ever does more than drink in his presence, but ever the gracious host Aziraphale moves to select the proper cheese. “I dare say I can’t really pick a favourite of these,” his eyes flicker back to Crowley, curious, and ultimately he decides to play it safe with a cube of the smoked gouda. “This, um, this is a Dutch cheese, wonderful for snacking on if I do say so myself. Sturdy but creamy enough to break away in your mouth, and the darker the rind is the better.” Aziraphale had spent several years in the last century hopping from country to country on the Continent, sampling various wares between bestowing virtues, and became himself quite the connoisseur. 

Aziraphale plucks up a cube of the smoked gouda and with a slight tremor raises it up for Crowley to take from him. Instead, Crowley is already leaning forward with his eyes closed and lips parted, patiently waiting, and Aziraphale freezes. He’s never seen Crowley like this before, so exposed and vulnerable to him, at least not while inhabiting a body. Then he continues, afraid he might startle Crowley if he moves too fast. 

Crowley’s forked tongue pokes out as though he’s about to receive holy communion, and Aziraphale gently places it down. Crowley is tugging it into his mouth, wrapping his lips around it, but Aziraphale hasn’t let go yet, and suddenly two of his fingers find themselves tucked into a wet heat. The tongue swirls around them and Crowley is astonished that he enjoys the flavour, letting out a shocked moan. Then confusion is crossing his brow at the size and shape of the intrusion, and he opens his eyes wide. Crowley’s jaw goes slack, the forgotten cheese tumbling into his lap, and sputters.

“A- Ange-- Aziraphale, I…” And Crowley doesn’t know what to say, he can’t think. Well no, that’s not true. He can’t think about anything else but the taste of Aziraphale and his mind has stammered as much as his voice. “I’m sorry,” he finally manages in panic.

Aziraphale feels just as nervous, and confused, and… and then his eyes are locked on Crowley’s lips, glistening with saliva, and his own breath starts coming fast. The world fades away and a puzzle piece clicks in his head. This act, this behaviour, he recognises it from all the times he has spent with Crowley, being watched like he is the centre of the universe. “Don’t go,” he asks, pleads, wants. 

And Crowley stops. 

And Crowley feels himself hoping at the expression he sees mirrored on Aziraphale’s face. 

And Crowley waits.  

“Why?”

“I love you, Crowley.”

“You’re an Angel,” he says matter-of-factly. “You love everything.”

“But I choose you.”

They meet somewhere in the middle. Aziraphale’s hands are cradling Crowley’s face, and Crowley’s hands are split between Aziraphale’s hair and the top of his shoulder. Their noses touch as they share the same breaths of air, hesitating at the all-too-real feeling of it under their palms. 

Crowley’s bottom lip is starting to quiver as he tilts his head, and he fights fights fights against the voice in his head and replaces its words with Aziraphale’s. I love you. He loves you. Not Crawly the underling, the traitor to Heaven, but Crowley the self-named being, the friend. 

And Crowley falls, overcome with a love he can at last show. His lips part and he closes the distance between them, melting into Aziraphale and shedding his past. Aziraphale is his future, his present, his everything, and he will devote lifetimes to showing him that.

[sepublic]

Tawahi

Tawahi is a village built upon a series of flattened, hill-like plains near the base of a stable, active volcano, named Mount Mangai. Mangai is constantly, steadily, streaming a flow of lava, with two streams of lava having been diverted to flow past and around Tawahi in the form of a moat- Skull Spiders are vulnerable to the extreme heat of lava, with only Armored Spiders surviving initially, before melting under the blazing temperatures like their brethren.

           Caught between these two lethal rivers, the Tawahans manage to exit and enter Tawahi by using cranes built atop the walls surrounded by the lava moat. These cranes hoist massive platforms to carry passengers over the lava moat to either side of the steaming river. Like the bridges of Kokoro, the Tawahan cranes are carefully monitored, and improvements are always being made to make the cranes faster, more accurate, and more stable.

           Past the massive walls, made from a mixture of recently-forged metal and stone, is the main village of Tawahi. Tawahi is divided into three, flattened slopes, each one leading to another with a sloping dirt path. Atop these hills, the people of Tawahi have built a village of various huts and buildings, all of them designed to withstand the heat, be more or less fireproof, and likewise allow maximum ventilation and cooling with conditioners created by Marn engineers and fueled by Kokoran Bitterbite.

           Tawahans specialize in blacksmithing, as the nearby plethora of accessible, extreme heat allows them to heat up their forges. Countless blacksmith shops are scattered throughout Tawahi, where metals and ores mined from Marn are brought in by the Gukko Airforce to be melted down and reforged into the proper tools and materials, before being delivered back to the rest of Okoto for use. Swords, hammers, and other metallic tools of the finest, highest quality are born and/or re-forged here, leading some to dub Tawahi as the new City of the Mask Makers.

           This steady stream of metal, some used for more luxury purposes, has outfitted the Tawahan Guard with a constant supply of the latest armors and weapons, making the Tawahi Military amongst the most well-armed in all of Okoto. Aside from melting down ores, though, the latent heat bubbling within the Region of Fire is also used for another purpose- The famous, beloved Tawahi Hot Springs!

           The Tawahi Hot Springs are exactly what their names imply them to be- A series of pools of water that are heated up by the underground heat to soothing temperatures. In the Tawahi Hot Springs, many elders and other experts tend to visitors, often supplying them with back massages and other special treatments, taking care to utilize the pumice found in the Region of Fire, as well as other materials. Many who visit the Tawahi Hot Springs leave feeling reportedly fresher and more energetic, as if their whole being has been rekindled and cleansed. Members of the Tawahan Guard are given discounts to the Hot Springs, and Gukko Airforce pilots are always treated to a relaxing massage and therapy as thanks for their hard work, before being sent off to fly the skies of Okoto once more.

           Despite its harsh heat, the Region of Fire continues to kindle the flame of life and survival for Okotans yet again- The nearby soil produced by the volcanoes is incredibly fertile, constantly being requested for by various farmers across Okoto. Lava Farmers use the fertile soil produced by volcanoes to breed healthy crops that contribute either to Tawahan cuisine, or the nutrition of the other Mega Villages.

           Aside from Levato, Tawahi is the second-most popular home for Kolhii. Other forms of entertainment include Ignalu Surfing, as well as the famous Tawahan Fireworks; Powdered rockets that when lit soar into the air and detonated in the most dazzling, colorful arrays of light. Needless to say, Tawahi’s exports usually consist of its newly-forged ores, fertile soils, the occasional vegetable or fruit, and fireworks. Materials for an at-home Spa therapy and treatment is also sold by the Tawahan Hot Springs, with the majority of funds going into supporting the Tawahan Military. Tawahi is also known for its delicious, fire-roasted cuisine. Barbecue, hot pot, roasts, etc.,- Tawahi has it all, and cooking competitions are a frequent event. Every now and then, Tawahi will hold a massive potluck where villagers can go about, trying out the roasted foods that others have to offer. All of these attractions have made Tawahi a popular tourist site for vacations and relaxation, one of its specialties.

           Tawahi is overlooked by Narmoto, the current Protector of Fire, village leader, and an Okotan with a mysterious past and a strange, seemingly sentient turret grafted to his spine. Narmoto claims he randomly found it in an abandoned temple, where it attached itself to him- Attempts to reverse-engineer his turret have ended poorly, with most agreeing to leave it alone lest Narmoto suffer for it. Like Marn, Tawahi is mostly military-run, although to a lesser extent, by the Tawahan Military.

           Many Okotans are stoked by blazes of the Region of Fire in Tawahi. Among them is Aft, a veteran of the Tawahan Military, who now dedicates his remaining life as a therapist, usually for soldiers suffering from PTSD. Having achieved peace through rediscovered books on meditation and mental and emotional health delivered from Kokoro, Aft sits down with his patients, listening to them about their nightmares and problems, and helping them calm down and confront their emotions. Aft is always quick to note that courage is not fearlessness, but rather being scared, and going on ahead regardless. His words always inspire many to continue their duties in defending Tawahi.

           Brander is a stout blacksmith, and one of Tawahi’s best, with Jaller of the Military preferring his tools most. Constantly supervising his forge, he crafts all manner of weapons, and more mundane tools, from the constant supplies of ore shipped in from Marn. Using the transferred heat from the lava moat, Brander softens his materials and reshapes them to his heart’s content, and has had made many luxury items and jewelry in conjunction with crafters from Marn and smelted art with Levan carvers. Brander is also a bit of an experimental barbecue chef, using his stove to try barbecuing all manner of ingredients from across Okoto.

           Aodhan is an elderly lady who works at the Tawahi Hot Springs, supervising guests to ensure that they achieve maximum comfort and relief in the bubbling soak. Aodhan also specializes in massages of many kind, as well as skin treatments, and she frequently thanks visitors with a specially-wrapped treat of her famous lava cookies, freshly baked!

           Binyo is the head chef at his famous grill, where he cooks right in front of the customer over an open stove, often amusing many with his famous ‘Onion Volcano’ trick. Binyo treats the business of his art very seriously, prioritizing speed, freshness, quality, and entertainment. Binyo is currently looking to train an apprentice, as his son has invested in a career as a Sumo wrestler.

           Tiribomba is, as his name might imply, a pyrotechnics expert. While he does dabble in explosives in collaboration with others across Okoto, from Pekka of Leva to Nuparu of Marn, his main passion and dream career is creating fireworks with his family. Hailing from a long family line, Tiribomba’s family holds a secret on how to make the brightest, most varied, and most complex patterns in a firework. Their ‘Family Recipe’ is coveted by many, but Tiribomba insists that they marry a relative –or even himself, ha!- before they can learn his family’s hidden art. The sky is frequently littered with some of his family’s experiments and prototypes, and while they don’t match the quality Tiribomba aspires to, as far as anyone else is concerned, they’re perfect.

           Kalama is another member of the Tawahan forging process, although his assignment is particularly grim. Kalama oversees the process of recycling Skull Spider bodies, shipped in from all across Okoto, usually from Levato. Kalama helps his fellow workers break down the bodies of the fallen creatures, melting down their metal limbs to be reforged into new blades, and breaking the rest down to its base components to be recycled and reused. This morbid occupation brings him in frequent contact with the faces of the despised swarms, and some fear for Kalama’s mental health- Some have sighted Kalama actually talking to the empty faces of the dead Skull Spiders, and the recent incident of a Skull Spider that feigned death, just to infiltrate Tawahi, has put him on further edge. Aft sometimes swings by to offer therapy, but Kalama just sticks to his job.

           Maglya is a Lava Farmer in her spare time- As the name suggests, others of her occupation use the lava flows of the nearby moat and fresh volcanic soil to farm healthy gardens. Always having something to offer on her stall, Maglya is in frequent collaboration with Vohon to sell her soil to other farmers, in particular her pen pal Orkahm of the Vuata Maca. Despite her apparently idle job, Maglya also has a thrill for the dangerous sport of Ignalu Surfing, and is a professional at it.

           Vohon is Tawahi’s main trader. An enthusiastic marketer with a magnetic personality, Vohon has a unique ‘loyalty’ program for her frequent customers. Said system involves a series of tickets given to customers that, when amassed, can grant them free prizes. Other parts of this Loyalty program include exclusive scratch cards, the occasional discount, and an inevitable gift for Naming Day. Despite the encouragement of these programs, Vohon is also courteous enough to advise shoppers to be careful about their spending, a lesson that is always heeded well. Vohon is a big fan of the poppers that Tiribomba’s family makes.

           Lhii is the young, impressionable son of Narmoto. Despite his mother’s death, Lhii retains his excitable demeanor, frequently running about Tawahi and playing with the other children, even making friends with older villagers. His status as the Protector’s son has made him beloved, if reverent, to the Tawahan Military, but Lhii does not throw his status around, instead preferring to hang out with the guards and be friends with them as well. Despite the death toll against the Skull Spiders, Lhii aspires to follow in his father’s footsteps and defend Tawahi when he’s old enough, perhaps even replacing him as Protector of Fire.

           The Tawahan Military is a local militia of volunteers, all armed with the freshest, sturdiest weaponry, tools, and armor, fresh and hot from the forge. While mostly voluntary, there is an unspoken agreement that the militia must have a certain minimum number of members that, if not met, would be gathered from a draw of the capable. Thankfully, such a scenario has never happened, as the courage of Tawahi blazes in its inhabitants’ hearts. The Tawahan Military frequently patrols the walls of the village, overseeing the smelting of ores, defending against Skull Spider threats, and occasionally going beyond the lava moat for expeditions or hunts.

           Members of the Tawahan Military are frequently imbued with a powerful sense of honor, chivalry, and code. They are led by Jaller, captain of the guard, and heir to Narmoto’s status as Protector of Fire. A natural leader who takes heed of his followers’ opinions, Jaller possesses a powerful sense of loyalty and a simmering caution, always on the lookout for Skull Spiders and assessing their tactics. Despite his loyalty, Jaller is not blind to authority, not even his own, and he is willing to call out those above him in case he feels there is injustice- Such solid morals and other values are what has led him to be the disciplined Captain of the Tawahan Military. His spare time is usually combat training.

           Kapura is one of the older members of the Tawahan Military, and among its more mysterious and eccentric ones. Functioning differently in the mental sense, Kapura is naturally physically slower than everyone else, a trait that has led him to be careful, diligent, and analytical. In the heat of battle, Kapura’s more slowed and calmed approach to the situation allows him to sometimes notice things that aren’t quite right, or observe what others have missed. This analytical and purposeful methodology of his has made him one of Narmoto’s advisors.

Paradoxically enough, Kapura seems to have the ability to move quickly, perhaps even teleport- He claims he can travel fast by moving slowly, by concentrating on where he is not, and thus inevitably being there. Kapura tends to practice this habit of his in the Charred Forest at his own risk, and it seems to work- How is anyone’s guess. Attempts to imitate have failed. Kapura also has a strange intuition regarding the Skull Spiders, and a knowledge of some parts of the Okotan pantheon of Deities. When not guarding or practicing, Kapura works at Tawahi’s theaters, occasionally partaking in its shadow theather or puppet shows, telling the old stories of Okoto.

Keahi’s role in the Tawahan Military is the regular patrol of the walls. In her spare time, Keahi also serves as a geisha performer and guest entertainer for visitors, often working at nearby restauraunts or in the Tawahi Hot Springs, and is a frequent member of the theater. Despite her graceful and reserved nature, Keahi also has a bit of a sharp tone if she chooses and is not to be underestimated- Jaller has cited her to be the bravest Tawahan there is. According to him, Keahi is actually very afraid, but she continues on diligently and stows away her fear, conquering it.

Agni is a dedicated Tawahan soldier who is obsessed with a moral code of honor. Rumor has it that his father once ran away in battle against the Skull Spiders, a disgrace and cowardice that Agni intends to make up for in his service by being the first to volunteer for missions. A master at the martial arts, Agni helps instruct his fellow guards on weaponless combat and is quick to remind people of the weak points that the Skull Spiders like to exploit. His mother has encouraged him to find a girlfriend, or boyfriend, whichever, but Agni is disinterested.

[stardewheadcanonprincess]

Bachelor/ettes hygiene headcannons

My friend and I discussed how often we think each of the villagers bathe and I thought I’d share that

Abigail: Prefers to be clean but spends so much time gaming that she can go a week without showering. She enjoys a relaxing shower or bath after practicing her sword fighting. It’s happened multiple times where she’s on her way to go shower but then her mom tells her she stinks and then she doesn’t shower out of spite. (Also she would totally love those little skull shaped bath bombs)

Sebastian: He showers whenever he thinks he’s going to see another human being. This is one of the reasons he doesn’t feel comfortable with people coming into his room. I imagine the for his two heart event he was quite embarrassed with how long it’s been since he showered and kept his arms down the entire time. He doesn’t actually smell that bad but the main thing is his hair gets greasy and he smells a lot like smoke.

Maru: She has to be clean for her job and can sometimes over shower and dry out her hair. Her hands are also probably pretty dry from using hand sanitizers. Sometimes after a long day of tinkering she can get lazy and there are grease patches on her arms that she’ll just cover up. Her invention overalls can get pretty smelly but she washes them whenever she thinks the farmer is coming over.

Harvey: This man probably speed showers with cold water. Uses the same bar of soap for everything. His mustache hygiene is impeccable though and he uses the most product on that. I also have a headcannon that he’s afraid of bathtubs so only ever showers. He can get a bit behind on dental hygiene and always has coffee strong breath. He started having to use hypoallergenic shampoo once a week cause he had a dandruff problem.

Elliott: Nobody knows how this man keeps so clean in a one room beach shack. He uses a lot of product to keep his hair literally perfect. He wears a swim cap in the ocean to protect his hair from damage. He’s tied with Haley for the most extensive beauty routine. If you marry this man your water bill will sky rocket. He doesn’t use any cologne and smells like the ocean.

Leah: Prefers the No-Poo method. This girl is crunchy af and thinks showering is unnatural. She just occasionally falls in the lake and lets nature take its course. This is however no accident and Elliott throws (organic) shampoo in the lake and pushes her in. She does however light a lot of homemade candles and can smell rather hearthy. She’s into brushing her teeth with coconut oil and it seems to work for her. But seriously what is in her hair? Where did that come from?!

Alex: Only showers after an intense work out and prefers being in the showers after gridball with the dudes. Thinks he smells ‘manly’ and prefers his natural musk. His hair is surprisingly soft and he’s really into saunas. A lot of his clothes smell like dog but he’s gone nose blind to it. He keeps his fingernails really short and tidy so they don’t catch on anything and hates getting his daily clothes dirty.

Haley: The treat yourself queen. Takes frequent bubble baths and has a face mask on daily. You can see a lot of her aesthetic bath set ups on her Instagram. She puts her hair in curlers every night which the farmer finds adorable. She also likes taking pictures and sometimes relaxing at the bathhouse with is probably the only way she knows who Penny is. She’s a frequent gum chewer and loves for her breath to be perfect like the rest of her. Wears the same perfume and refuses to tell anybody where she got it from because it’s a secret.

Shane: Tries to put off showering for as long as possible because he oftens goes in there to cry things out. Marnie totally drags him in there when he’s passed out and sprays him with the shower hose. The one thing he keeps up on is he wears a very strong deodorant but not axe because it brings back bad memories. After he’s married to the farmer he showers and shaves regularly but can still smell like chickens.

Penny: Tries to keep clean the best she can cause the kids will 100% tell her if she’s smelly. On occasion Pam has forgotten or couldn’t afford to pay the water bill. Once she tried to shower in the river late at night but her and Linus saw each other and screamed. She has a sweet smelling subtle perfume that she uses sparingly. She’ll wear gloves whenever it gets slightly cold so her hands don’t dry out even more than they already do.

Sam: This man bathes with a rubber duck and he’s not ashamed. He kept a more regular shower schedule when he worked at the Jojo mart because Morris would frequently get on his case about it. Band practice with Abigail and Sebastian can get really smelly. His band mates often tease him about smelling bad even though they’re hypocrites. In highschool he just wouldn’t shower and would just douse himself with axe. He can be convinced very easily to shower with the farmer and totally runs and does big splashes in the bathhouse much to everyone’s annoyance.

Emily: Doesn’t know what a shower is. Is really into bath magic and with take them with a lot of crystals around the rim of the tub and meditate in there. She also really enjoys doing rain showers out and dances in a swimsuit with Haley teases her for. She can’t shampoo that often to keep her hair dye intact. Once she went to the bath house with Haley and meditated for most of the time and they haven’t gone together since.

[v-thinks-on]

The Problem With Paradise (Part 2)

First | Next

The shuttle traveled on autopilot for Spock knew not how long. He did not know if time properly existed in this realm, nor how it was measured. He meditated, and waited, and found that the computer still answered questions when asked, but refused to provide him with any more information.

An eternity may have passed before the viewscreen darkened and showed the shuttle emerging from a stormy sky that hung above a dark, industrial cityscape. It descended to the foot of the tallest skyscraper and the door opened to allow Spock out in front of the main entrance.

To his surprise, he found himself looking into the lobby of Starfleet headquarters, just as it had appeared in the late 23rd century. But where the blue flags of the United Federation of Planets should have been, there were red banners displaying a caricature of the planet Earth in front of a sword. There was no doubt that this was where Spock would find his former captain. The doors opened with a rush of frigid air, and he strode through them as though he belonged there.

No one as much as looked up at his arrival. Immediately inside was the end of a long, curving line that, through many twists and turns, made its way to a large desk in the center of the room, in front of the largest bright red banner. At the desk was a lone humanoid woman, frantically attempting to answer a barrage of incoming calls, beeping urgently above the din. The rest of the large lobby bustled with humanoids running to and fro, often colliding in their hurry to be some place or another. Spock noted that many of them limped or sported broken limbs that further hindered their progress. But James Kirk was not among them.

There was no obvious indication of where to begin, and so Spock took his place at the end of the line. However, it showed little indication of moving, and he could not help but wonder what fate his former bondmate had been condemned to. The woman at the desk could hardly answer one call when she was interrupted by another that beeped even more urgently. The man at the front of the line tried many times to make his case to no avail. Meanwhile, the temperature of the room began to rise until it became uncomfortable even for an old Vulcan.

Finally, Spock decided that enough was enough and left his place in the line to wade through the crowd and make his way directly to the desk.

“One moment, sir,” the woman snapped as Spock approached, not even looking up from her work to see the latest visitor.

“Get back in line!” a man near the front shouted, “You have to wait like the rest of us!”

Spock ignored him and addressed the harried receptionist. “I am on urgent business. I merely wish to know the whereabouts of Admiral James Tiberius Kirk.”

“Just one minute!” the woman exclaimed into the terminal in front of her. She pressed another button and demanded, “Yes, what is it? I can’t hear you!” Finally, she risked a glance up at Spock. “What was that? A cup of tin?” she asked. Her eyes looked a little wild.

Spock would not contribute to her torment, as this certainly was, so he merely nodded and took his leave with a word of thanks.

Carefully maneuvering to avoid colliding with anyone, he scanned the room for some other source of information. “Computer, locate James Tiberius Kirk,” he attempted, but received no answer.

Finally, on the far wall, he located a directory. Beneath the sign was a screen that displayed a very, very long list of names in no apparent order, accompanied by incomprehensible locations. There was no means to automatically search through them that Spock could locate, so he scrolled down the list, registering each name as he skimmed past it. It was inefficient and tedious, but he read as quickly and precisely as any Vulcan, and time seemed to have little meaning in this place. Eventually, he found “Kirk, James Tiberius,” and a long string of apparently random numbers and letters.

As he turned to the map beside the directory, the directory reset, so it only displayed the beginning of the list. Thankfully, Spock had what he presumed was the room number memorized. Of course, the map appeared to be organized as logically as the list of names had been. If it was accurate, the building was a labyrinth of rooms and hallways arranged in configurations that may not even have been physically possible. And if the locations were indexed according to a system, Spock could not begin to understand it.  But eventually he found the correct location - a room on the thirteenth floor, no doubt in reference to an old human superstition.

His destination in mind, Spock again maneuvered through the fray, to the lift on the other side of the lobby. Just as he arrived, the doors slid shut on a carriage full well past capacity. So, he waited and called for another. According to the indicator above the door, it started on the second floor. For a long time, it did not move, then it rocketed up to the thirteenth floor, barely paused long enough for the doors to open, and dropped down to the basement. It stayed there for a little while, before passing Spock again, on its way to the third, and then it returned to the second. Spock could hear it moving, perhaps even getting closer, but it gave no indication of arriving.

Finally, Spock gave up the wait as a waste of time and went for the stairs. As he walked away, he heard the lift arrive. In the time it took him to glance back over his shoulder, a whole crowd of people rushed in, and it was almost immediately filled past capacity again.

Spock continued on his way. The stairwell was empty, dank and musty, poorly illuminated by flickering lights. The stairs down to the basement descended into darkness, but Spock did not need to concern himself with what lurked down there. Instead, he made his way up the flights of stairs, each much longer than it ought to have been, especially on old, tired legs.

Eventually, he passed a door to the second floor, then the third, the fourth, the fifth... He had to stop and rest somewhere between the ninth and tenth. At long last, he arrived at the thirteenth. The paint on the door was peeled, and as he approached, it started to slide open and stuck.

Undeterred, he slid his fingers into the narrow crack between the door and the wall, braced himself and pulled at it with all the strength he had forgotten he had. The edge of the door cut into his fingers and his arms ached with the effort, but it only barely budged. He tried once more and was nearly knocked off his feet as the door suddenly slid open to allow a woman to pass from the other side.

He got his bearings before the door closed once more and stepped into a bustling hallway, just as hazardous as the main lobby had been. He maneuvered through the crowd of humanoids, all pushing and shouting to get by. The map he had memorized was clear in his mind and he knew the route.

Finally, after many twists and turns, and what felt like going in circles, he found his destination in an abandoned corridor. Somehow all the noise from just around the corner was muted. At the end of the hallway, exactly where it had been indicated on the map, was a door marked with a shiny new plate that read “Admiral James T. Kirk.”

Spock entered without knocking, unarmed and much too old for physical combat, but prepared to fight if it came to that. The door slid open easily. The only occupant of the large office was busy pouring over an endless pile of PADDs bearing thousands of lifetimes’ worth of paperwork. He looked tired and worn, more haggard than Spock had ever seen him in life - defeated.

“Jim,” Spock said, almost without thinking.

The admiral glanced up without really looking and froze. A tired dismissal died on his lips. His eyes widened in surprise. The PADD he was holding fell to the table with a thud.

“Spock, what are you doing here?” he whispered. His look of wonder turned to horror as he realized, “What are they going to do to you?”

“I am here of my own volition,” Spock answered sharply, though a trace of a gentle smile softened it. “I am here to rescue you.”

Kirk stumbled to his feet and moved toward Spock as though in a trance. His hands landed on Spock’s shoulders and he squeezed as though to assure himself that Spock was really there. “How did you get away?”

“I merely asked,” Spock replied. “I was sent somewhere rather different.”

Kirk grinned at the implication. “I knew you’d make it if either of us did.” But then his face fell. “But what are you doing here?”

“I am here to rescue you,” Spock repeated and offered Kirk his arm. “We should not delay.”

Kirk hesitated.

“You would do the same for me - and have,” Spock said.

Kirk pursed his lips, and looked like he wanted to argue, but finally he accepted Spock’s arm and said, “Alright. Let’s go.”

They stepped out through the door and walked down the hallway hand in hand. As they came upon a more major thoroughfare, they exchanged a glance - Spock raised one eyebrow, and Kirk’s lips quirked upward in a small smile - before plunging into the fray.

They ran as fast as two old men could, dodging past humanoids hurrying around them in all directions. The crowd threatened to pull them apart, but they never let go. Together, they forced open the door to the stairwell and nearly tumbled down the stairs. They burst out into the lobby, through the front doors, back to the waiting shuttle.

They both stopped dead in their tracks. The shuttle was surrounded by a dozen humanoids of no species either Kirk or Spock recognized, who were clearly none too happy with the apparent intrusion on their domain.

[holy-mountaineering]

This spread is for draugadottir, the very person this spread was designed (and who helped a bit to create it) and will be the first to receive it without even hanging and getting stabbed!

This spread is a homemade concoction from my knowledge of Tarot and the myth of Odin sacrificing himself to himself for the knowledge of the Runes, thus of creation and himself.

The placement of the cards is in the shape of the Rune “Maðr” of the Younger Futhark, which was used as “man” in the Runic Poems.

We shall begin, as Yggdrasil does, in the Well of Urd which nourishes the deep roots of The World Tree. And from this Well springs forth XX The Aeon, Shin, Fire. Think about where you are now and how you go about doing things in general. Do you remember a time before this point in your life when you acted differently and didn’t have this kind of understanding of the world? The Aeon is a new understanding and thus a new way of acting in your life. Harpocrates giving the sign of silence has to do with the meditative process of accepting this new law of life. You must truly grasp the meaning of this change in order to act in the new “spirit of the age” if you will. You are being born anew through fire and blood, you are emerging from the egg in the background and coming forth. What you take away from this will be with you forever but one day will also be improved on and brought to a new level.

The mighty trunk of Yggdrasil is carved with V The Hierophant, Vau, Taurus. This is being initiated into how things work in the material or normal world. This is the secrets of how things are and some of that is being revealed to you. This is a person, institution, or experience that is telling you “trade secrets” or how to do what you do better. 5s are the human or microcosmic number and Taurus reiterates this material theme. Once you find out how to improve yourself and your understanding of the world, you must now go out and actually use that skill. Knowledge is useless if it is not implemented in the knower’s life and behavior. Get initiated into the cult of your sphere of interest. Learn how to improve what you do through being initiated in one way or another. Find what/who helps you to learn the “secrets” of how to do your thing better and then go out and do those things.

The knowledge of the Runes Óðinn looked down into his blood and saw, for you is the 6 of Swords, Science! This is thinking and communicating in its idealized form. This is the system building card where individual thoughts are organized into a repeatable formula. Mercury’s intelligence is flowing through the Water Bearer Aquarius and coming down to useful data gathering techniques. Organize the way you’re thinking about what you’re doing to reflect all of the information you have available. Be scholarly about your thought process and write shit down goddamnit.

Mr. Wednesday Himself, the Sacrifice and the God to which this is all Sacrificed to is VII The Chariot, Cheth, Cancer. I like to think of the Chariot as an armored train. The Four elements are the engine pulling the otherwise stagnate charioteer of Cancer down the predetermined path. While they pull him toward his goal he stays in his armored shell focusing on his moving center. This is not about “going off the beaten path” at all, this is “staying on track” to take care of yourself and Yourself, if you catch my meanings. The armour of the night is “not to keep others out, but to keep the Knight focused in.” to paraphrase. The rotating center is the Knight’s center, from His perspective, the center of All. Stay on your path, you might not be driving the train but it’ll get you going where you need to be. Focus on your soft inside bits like the crab does, you can only fit so much in your current state.

The Spear which pierced All-Father so he could have the blood pooling to make visible the knowledge is XIV ART, Samekh, Sagittarius. This is the process of the actual Art of Alchemy, the taking apart, putting back together, and purifying. Duality is being dissolved and it’s being used as rocket fuel to project you outward into the Universe. The hermaphrodite alchemist takes the substances at her disposal and works them to make a purer, more useful creation. The cauldron has a momento mori that symbolizes that death or real change is a key to dissolving. You have to change yourself, burn away the bullshit. Break things apart to their various components so you can use the parts to build them again to be useful.

The branch of The World Tree which Wotan anchored himself to be hung from is the Prince of Disks, the airy part of Earth or thinking about what’s going on in the material/normal-ass world. This prince is a map maker, an amateur cartologist. Holding his globe, he is pulled along by the sturdy bull of Taurus who is familiar with the terrain so the prince can gaze down and take note of where he is, where he’s been, and where he might be going. In other words this is learning about how to navigate life. Pay attention to where you are and what you’ve been doing. Take notes. Have you been here before? Do you know where this leads? If not, mark it out in your globe so you know if you ever get there again.

Wuotan’s Raven Familiar who represents the memory, Munnin is XVII The Star, Heh, Aquarius. Despite its name making me think of water, Aquarius is an air sign. Aquarius the water-bearer is the vehicle for the water she is baring. The life giving water flows through her. It has been said that “Tzaddi is not the Star” and Crowley made it so in the Thoth deck. There is a mystery in this attribution of the Hebrew letter to this Tarot card that I will not go into. I read this card called the “Universal Principle of Self-Worth” or trusting yourself as the vehicle of transmission. Her gaze is toward her reflection in the cup above her and she is pouring through herself to the areas below herself. Trust that you’re a worthy conduit to transmit what nourishes life. Trust that your shit is real and who you are makes you capable. That which is above wishes to come below through you.

Wotan’s Raven representing thought, Huginn is the 4 of Cups, Luxury. This is “squaring up” emotionally and creating a greater emotional balance. Lvna the Moon absorbs the light of Sol the sun and reflects it back to Earth, but only enough emotionally to help you stay stable and protected (Cancer the crab with an exoskeleton to protect it’s soft inside parts). Don’t get too comfy though, don’t mistake squaring up (getting correct) with being a scared square.

And above it all, the canopy of The World-Ash Tree is the 3 of Wands, Virtue. This is not a moralistic idea of Virtue, this is the idea of formulating a basic mode of action to build from. Virtue unto yourself and your Will, as in doing what you do because it’s what you do. Astrologically, this is Sol in Aries or springtime. This is the energy of the Sun close to Earth creating new growth from the stagnate winter. You can also read a message of centering on new growth in your life. Create a basic plan like a farmer might for spring. You’re no sharecropper, this is your land so plant the fields only according to your Will.

So, this all grows from the Fire which brings about a new era of humanity (sound familiar?). This makes possible the initiation of knowledge and then the Knowledge itself. Mercury (an early Roman attribution of Odin) in Aquarius is very important to this process, for it is no only the knowledge of the Runes but the transmission of that knowledge to humanity.

That Spear which spills the Blood of A God unto Himself is just that here, Sagittarius and the ACT of transmutation. That which the God anchors Themself is the thought of what is, what could be, and what might come to be in the mundane world. The God Himself is the Charioteer being pulled along His path by the elements which created the path in the first place.

Your memory should be focused on how you can, how you must transmit this knowledge unto humanity, how you must trust yourself to bring this light to the darkness and banish it back to its proper place. Your current thoughts should be on reflection of this Trip, the Luxury of being able to survive this ordeal and tell about the saga. And like any good saga, you must ACT, staying true to your Gods and your thus, yourself.

The age of giants is over, you’ve slayed them all, now, tell the tale, oh warrior.

TAAAA DAAAAAAAAA, there it is the first of this kind of spread I created. Tell me what you think and of course hit me up for clarification or questions!

SKÁL!

[swanwinged-princess]

The Hunchback of Notre Dame owo

@wouldhope// Disney Headcanon Meme

The Hunchback of Notre Dame - What is your muse’s religious beliefs? Have they ever experienced oppression at the hands of religion?

//Ok well FIRST of all

//And also this is;;; probably gonna be long;;; made twice as long because i’m gonna do one for standard!tutu (the one where she’s basically swan jesus) and one for verses/aus where she’s… at least a LITTLE bit more normal (see: her dad’s not a LITERAL DEITY)

I’m actually gonna start off with the latter here bc i think the former is probably gonna be longer anyway SO

(continues under cut)

In verses/aus where Tutu’s father isn’t a literal, actual spirit/deity/entity/god/what-have-ye (BNHA/affiliated spinoffs; duckverse/anthro/etc.; wizarding world; etc.):

She is… SOMEWHAT religious; definitely not overly so (see: not an asshole about it) but believes in angels/miracles/god/heaven and-or the afterlife. Definitely christianity-adjacent but not any particular type of christianity; possibly believes in hell/purgatory/some sort of punishment system after death but doesn’t really like to think about it, and her qualifications for GETTING there are stuff like, say, ‘committing many horrible murders’ or ‘being an unapologetic bigot’ as opposed to ‘not believing in jesus’ or ‘enjoying having sex’ or whatever.

 She doesn’t really even, say, go to church regularly (she’s heckin BUSY come on), but does enjoy being IN church, especially alone; it’s like a bit of a meditation for her/helps her clear her head and feel closer to god/spirituality/the universe/heaven/her mom.

She also prays pretty much every day- specifically once in the morning and at night- but also prays informally whenever she feels the need, and probably wouldn’t own much religious iconography besides maybe a few cross necklaces– you know, small, tasteful, very expensive; delicate, real silver or gold, maybe a single pearl right in the middle of the cross but that’s about it.

Whereas on the OTHER hand

//HOO BOY//

In main verse and associated, she’s… um.

Ok, so the Swan King may not technically be an actual GOD per se, but, well… He’s close. And people DO worship him. Not as many as there used to be, but they’re still there, and generally speaking basically everybody in the kingdom and round abouts that area observe it (swanianism or something idk) at least casually, by at least saying ‘swansdown’ and ‘swanfeathers’ and ‘by the swan’ instead of, for example, ‘oh my god’. 

There’s, like, one official church, with stained glass and pews and everything, where all the high-class weddings and funerals and etc. get held there, but there aren’t really any ‘priests’ and they don’t really hold services. 

There are lots and lots of old swan statues all over the area from centuries back, and while some of them got moved onto the tops of buildings/in fountains/ended up centers of various village squares, a lot of them had sort of… had temples built around them over the years- it just sorta happened- and that’s mainly where the average people observe their worship. 

Also, the Schwanensee royal family featured pretty largely in the theology, being sort of… the same thing as saints in Catholicism; whenever anybody was born/died on the sacred island a messenger dove got sent over to the mainland and there was an announcement made about it to the village. The sacred island/lake wasn’t really thought of as a real place- it was more like if you could see heaven a little bit from a high window, or if you climbed a really tall tree.

So when the island was basically burned to the ground and almost all the royal family was killed, it was… um….. 

Kind of a big fuckin’ deal.

When Tutu was rescued from the ruins, and everybody saw her, and everybody knew who she was, it was an even bigger deal. Everybody, in unison, basically decided that this tiny, traumatized, soot-covered, gray-feathered 6-year-old was the chosen one who was going to save them from everything from minor disagreements to, y’know, being ripped apart alive/having your heart and emotions pulled out and eaten by flocks of devil birds. 

People even started… worshipping her.

After the initial adjustment period, she actually handled it pretty well; at least externally. Of course, anyone who knows anything about actually being royalty knows that the whole trick is to be royal on the outside and a cobbled-together mess sustained by stress like that physics thing where you hold up a legless table by strings and the buckets of water on it, but as she got older she actually managed to get more of a handle on it. 

All in all, she’s… 

I mean, she’s more or less got it. Apart from sudden attacks of crippling, soul-crushing anxiety. But she really, really, really wishes that people would stop, or at least give the whole actually worshipping her a rest a little. Generally speaking, everybody in the kingdom (or at least in the castle village) does genuinely like her, but sometimes she gets people who want to, like, kneel at her, or try to touch her dress/feathers as she walks past, and when she tries to talk to them they start flinching away and holding up their little carved swan amulet necklaces like they think it’ll protect them and she’s just like dad dammit i am trying to be friendly do i have to say ‘be not afraid’ or something every time i go up to introduce myself to someone???

But yeah, generally speaking it’s not really a problem from the swan-leaning side. Where it starts going wrong is the raven-leaning side.

The swan-leaning people are all in all, y’know, normal fucking people, and their religion-worship-belief-etc. only ever gets to obnoxious-christianity levels. 

But the raven-leaning people can generally be qualified altogether as a crazy ransacking-and-pillaging murder cult.

 And they actually have backup from real, actual infernal blood magic demon stuff, a seemingly infinite supply of flocks of murderbirds and various and sundry quirky miniboss squad-types, whereas the normal people really only have Tutu and, allegedly, the faerie folk (those affiliated with the Lilac Fairy/Queen, at least) but they haven’t been seen in generations so it’s really anyone’s guess on that. 

They do a lot of, you know, general murder and mayhem- or at least they did, but the last really big thing they managed to pull off was the massacre on the sacred island, and technically speaking they actually failed to complete their objective because Queen Leda put Tutu to sleep with some ~magic~ and hid her in the hollow base of a swan statue in the middle of a rose thicket, which, by some sort of ‘coincidence’, didn’t seem to catch fire very much, and they were all too drunk on moonshine and bloodlust, and generally crazy and stupid, to actually look further for any survivors when everything was on fire and there were crows everywhere and they just sort of decided ‘yeah that’s it let’s go home’ and fucked off. 

At the current time, most of them aren’t actually too much of a threat because most of them are the stupid crazy ~3edgy5me~ idiot types– y’know, the kind who’d, say, march around waving factory-produced tiki torches at night and demand a police escort if they’re gonna be shouting in the general vicinity of a pride event because they’re ‘fearful of their safety :’(’ 

so, like, nowadays they’re really only like Team Rocket-level nuisances on a day-to-day basis because the kingdom had learned from their history and swore in a lot more ‘guards’ and ‘knights’- enough to mostly keep the peace in pretty much every town unless things get really, really bad. 

Uuuunfortunately, it’s not just idiots who want to wear black cloaks with pointy hoods to look like beaks and wave big curved swords around– i mean, it’s MOSTLY that, but also a lot of very smart, very greedy, bored, evil, and/or scheming people end up gravitating towards anything that’ll give them a lot of dumb people who they can tell what to do. 

So occasionally- very occasionally- they actually do something that’s… actually impactful, and everybody who gets out of it in one piece talks about how fucked up that was and ‘curse those raven bastards’ and etc. etc., but the crowmen (as they’re informally known) are also surprisingly good at apparently vanishing without a trace so it’s hard to catch them or do anything really constructive about the problem as a whole. 

Weeellllll, okay, ADMITTEDLY a few various gangs of them HAVE managed, by coincidence or the type of brief narrative luck that dumb people like that seem to have sometimes, to briefly kidnap Tutu, but she either gets rescued very quickly OR escapes by herself while they’re arguing with each other about HOW to kill her, WHETHER to kill her, and what the prospects of killing her now or maybe ransoming her and then killing her LATER would be, or they all sort of trip over their own and each other’s feet, cloaks, and swords and blunder their way into harmlessness in one way or another. 

TL;DR Tutu sort of... IS a part of her religion like how Jesus is a part of Christianity/associates and all things considered she’s handling it pretty well. Her entire family was murdered by basically a crazy satanic cult who still run around causing problems, but not as much as they used to, so.... Does that count as religious oppression???

[thesevenseraphs]

Update 2.0.0 Patch Notes

Service Announcements:

Destiny 2 Update 2.0 will bring many changes to the Destiny 2 experience in preparation for Forsaken. Some features may not be fully operational until September 4.

This is the final week of Season 3. Season 4, “Season of the Outlaw,” begins on September 4.

Player Character

General

Subclass screen updated in preparation for Forsaken

Weapons and Armor

Exotic Armor

Hunter

Orpheus Rig

No longer grants Super energy on bloom and damage sharing

Raised base Super amount that you receive from tethers to create a more consistent and less exponential experience

Super energy given is scaled up when more powerful enemies are tethered

When used with Moebius Quiver, grants additional tether shots

Does not grant ability energy on tethering targets

Celestial Nighthawk

Now grants 33% of your Super energy back if the target is killed by the shot

Wormhusk Crown

No longer starts regeneration of health and shields

Instead grants a larger health and shield bump at the beginning of dodge instead of at the end

Knucklehead Radar

Enhanced radar resolution while crouching

Lucky Pants

Extended duration of Illegally Modded Holster

Shinobu's Vow

Skip grenade returns some energy when it damages an enemy

Warlock

The Stag

Rift dropped from death now has standard rift duration

Eye of Another World

Ability recharge bonus increased

Nezarac's Sin

Increased duration of Abyssal Extractors

Rapid kills extend the duration up to 20 seconds

Skull of Dire Ahamkara

Increased Super energy gained from Nova Bomb kills

Killing higher-ranked enemies now rewards more Super energy

Transversive Steps

Enhanced mobility

After sprinting for a short time, your currently equipped weapon is automatically reloaded

Winter’s Guile

Tuned damage and duration per stack to be more consistent

Titan

Mk. 44 Stand Asides

Overshield granted by sprinting appears faster

Hallowfire Heart

Base cooldown reduction when Super is uncharged in addition to CDR when charged

Helm of Saint-14

Grants allies an overshield for a short duration when passing through Ward of Dawn

Mask of the Quiet One

Increased energy gain from incoming damage

While critically wounded, health is granted from kills

Crest of Alpha Lupi

Healing pulse is more effective

Peacekeepers

Increased movement speed when wielding an SMG

Wormgod’s Caress

Tuned damage and duration per stack to be more consistent

Weapons

Developer Insight:

With Forsaken, we've made a major change to the systems—the freedom to slot powerful weapons in either the Kinetic slot or Energy slot. This fundamental change necessitated a fresh look at a player’s damage output in both PvE and PvP.

Primary ammo weapons and Special ammo weapons may exist in either the Kinetic or Energy slot.

Heavy ammo weapons can exist only in the Power slot.

Ammo type and damage type are now fixed attributes of a specific weapon.

Ammo distribution models updated entirely to support weapon slot changes.

Energy weapons no longer deal bonus damage to active enemy Supers.

Ammo Economy

Primary Ammo Weapons

Hand Cannons

Scout Rifles

Auto Rifles

Sidearms

Submachine Guns

Special Ammo Weapons

Fusion Rifles

Shotguns, Sniper Rifles

Trace Rifles

Single Shot Grenade Launchers

Heavy Ammo Weapons

Drum-Loaded Grenade Launchers

Rocket launchers

Linear Fusion Rifles

Swords

The following Year 1 weapons have moved to the Kinetic slot

Baligant

Shepherd's Watch

Hawthorne's Field-Forged Shotgun

Alone as a God

Perfect Paradox

The Frigid Jackal

Silicon Neuroma

The following Year 1 weapons are now locked to Solar damage

IKELOS_SR_v1.0.1

IKELOS_SG_V1.0.1

The following Exotic weapons did not change slot and still use Heavy ammo

Tractor Cannon

The Legend of Acrius

D.A.R.C.I.

Whisper of the Worm

Developer Insight:

The tuning of Destiny weapons and abilities is inexorably tied to the systems that we build upon. Ultimately our goal is to still provide gameplay challenge despite a global increase in player damage output due to the new systems introduced. To properly support the higher uptime of Shotguns, Snipers, and Fusions, the following changes were made to all weapons in the game.

Primary Ammo Weapons

Increased precision damage output of Primary ammo weapons

Increased in-air accuracy

Decreased body shot damage in PvE 

Decreased Auto Rifle damage required to stagger enemies to compensate for reduced body damage

Special Ammo Weapons

Reduced damage output of Special ammo weapons

Increased damage of Trace Rifles

Trace Rifles now disintegrate defeated enemies

Heavy Ammo Weapons

Grenade Launchers:

Increased damage and blast radius

Linear Fusion Rifle

Increased damage

Reduced time to charge and fire

Reduced aim assist

Swords

Increased ammo

Increased damage mitigation when guarding

Exotics

Sleeper Simulant

Fixed issue where charge time was not displayed properly on weapon

Magazine size increased

Reduced base damage

Borealis

Bonus damage after breaking a shield increased on precision hit

Still grants bonus damage on body shots

Prometheus Lens

No longer generates Special ammo on kill

Tractor Cannon

Repulsor Force's Weaken effect now also increases non void damage by 33%, but no longer stacks with other weaken effects. (Shadowshot,Hammer Strike, etc).

Perks

Explosive Payload

Reduced bonus damage output

Ambitious Assassin

Increased time allotted between kills to earn bonus ammunition

Backup Plan

Decreased amount of time weapon must be stowed for perk to become available

Box Breathing

Reduced time required for perk to activate

Reduced precision bonus

Perk now resets after firing

High-Impact Reserves

Damage bonus granted earlier in magazine

Grave Robber

Now reloads your entire magazine

Primary ammo is granted directly to magazine

Heavy and Special ammo is transferred from reserves to magazine

Field Prep

Increased inventory reserves

Increased stow, ready, and reload speed when crouched

Auto-Loading Holster

Reduced time required for perk to activate when weapon is stowed.

Opening Shot

Increased falloff range (weapon does more damage at longer ranges)

Triple Tap

Grants ammo directly to the magazine; no longer pulls from reserves.

Mods

Starting with 2.0.0.1 (9/4/2018), Year 1 mods can no longer be inserted into gear or weapons. You will no longer be able to insert any mods into Year 1 gear or change the elemental damage type come next week.

Misc

Fixed an issue where Rocket Launcher stability stat was not working as intended

Fixed an issue where the Impact Casing perk on Grenade Launchers did not function

Swords now have the ability to accept shaders

Abilities

General

Visual layout of perks has changed in subclass paths

Increased base Guardian melee damage

It now takes two melee hits to defeat an enemy Guardian in PvP

Increased the base damage of Seismic Strike, Hammer Strike, and Shield Bash

Adjusted active Super bonus damage resistance values

Added a timer to the status effect for Healing Rift, Empowering Rift, and Rally Barricade to communicate the time remaining before they expire

Grenades

Axion Bolt

Increased base damage

Increased the amount of time it takes for the tracking strength to lower

Flashbang

Increased base damage

Incendiary Grenade

Increased base damage

Storm Grenade

Increased base damage

Scatter Grenade

Re-tuned range and falloff ranges for the detonations for more reliable damage

Magnetic, Fusion, and Flux Grenade

Increased base damage

Damage is now the same whether a target has been stuck or simply walked over grenade when detonating

Magnetic Grenade now detonates a second time only if it's attached to a target

The second detonation no longer only occurs on the grenade itself and will now be applied to each individual target hit by the initial detonation

Skip Grenade

Increased impact damage of each Skip Drone impact for a higher total potential damage

Voidwall

Increased the damage of initial Void Wall wave

Hunter

General

Marksman’s Dodge is now considered a reload; it can interact with Kill Clip, Rat King, etc.

Gunslinger

Practice Makes Perfect perk now grants Super energy on throwing knife kills

Increased the duration of all versions of Golden Gun

Nightstalker

Once activated, the Shadowshot tether will find enemy targets more reliably within its search radius

Titan

General

Rally Barricade no longer requires players to take cover to reload—it now feeds ammo to your magazine over time

Striker

With Terminal Velocity enabled, the opening Fists of Havoc slam no longer leaves a lingering damage area

Lowered the health threshold for triggering Knockout so that it triggers sooner, to keep up with the PvP lethality changes

Increased the lunge range of the Fists of Havoc melee attack

Sunbreaker

Sol Invictus will now trigger on burn kills

Sentinel

Increased Ward of Dawn health significantly

Increased the amount of health provided by the Ward of Dawn overshield

Sentinel Shield Super

Increased Shield Throw projectile speed

Shield Throw no longer loses damage after bouncing or ricocheting off targets

Faster attack animations for grounded melee attacks

Increased Sentinel Super damage in PvE

Warlock

General

Increased Healing Rift effectiveness

Empowering Rift now increases precision damage (previously, bonus damage was capped at the weapon’s precision damage in PvP)

Stormcaller

Increased the PvP damage of Stormtrance

Increased Arc Soul’s projectile speed

Dawnblade

Increased Dawnblade projectile speed and base tracking strength

Voidwalker

Significantly reduced the length of time that Blink disables your radar and HUD

Chaos Accelerant no longer costs Super energy to use

Increased the damage bonus granted by Chaos Accelerant for each Voidwalker grenade

PvE

Daily Heroic Story Playlist

Year 1 meditations have been retired and replaced with a Heroic Story playlist

These will share modifiers with Heroic adventures and strikes

Forsaken campaign missions will be featured at 500 Power, while Year 1 campaign missions will be featured at 200 Power

Destinations

Wanted escapees from the Prison of Elders now roam the open world

They will not drop rewards until September 4, 2018

Increased the difficulty of Lost Sectors

Example: EDZ Lost Sectors are now 240 Power

Adventures

Replayable adventures have been removed from destination vendors

Heroic adventures have been added to all destinations

Destinations without Heroic adventures before Forsaken will have them available during their Flashpoint weeks

A random Heroic adventure will be available each day

Mercury and Mars Heroic adventures are unchanged

Heroic adventures will share similar modifiers with daily Heroics and strikes

Strikes

Vanguard Strikes

Heroic Strike playlists have been retired for all players and replaced with a single content-appropriate playlist:

Legacy 

Strikes playlist matches the legacy playlist that is currently available in Year 1

Recommended Power 200

Will have modifiers

Forsaken

Strike playlist has three difficulties to select from:

Recommended Power 300 (not available when your level is 40 Power higher)

Recommended Power 400 (not available when your level is 40 Power higher)

Recommended Power 500 (always available)

Will have modifiers

Nightfall

Retired Prestige difficulty

Increased base difficulty for Nightfall activities

Players can choose one of three Nightfall strikes each week

Players may select only the strikes for which they own the appropriate expansions

Legacy players will still be able to enable modifiers via the Challenge Card, but scoring will be disabled in the 270 Power Nightfall

General

Escapees from the Prison of Elders now appear in strikes, Lost Sectors, and public areas

Items & Economy

General

Collections (emblems and Exotics) that are found in the vault will be unavailable during the week of August 28–September 4, but they will return with 2.0.0.1 in the upcoming Collections tab

Exotics will now always drop at or above your Guardian’s Power level

Year 1 challenges will no longer grant destination materials or tokens

Destination materials can be earned via bounties, available from their respective destination vendors

Anything that previously granted destination tokens or Rare materials will grant Common destination materials moving forward

Destination tokens and Rare destination materials are no longer granted, but they can still be redeemed for reputation if you have them in your inventory

Xûr

His will is not his own

No longer displays a vendor icon on destination maps

No longer tied to Flashpoints

He has a clear purpose but cannot explain it—forgive him

Fated Engrams grant only pre-Forsaken Exotics

Tower

Increased vault size to 500 slots

Players can now dismantle shaders in stacks of five in Master Rahool’s vendor screen

Cayde-6

Cayde-6 has left the Tower to investigate disturbances in the Reef

Removed Treasure Maps and Scout Reports

Technical

Localization

Added Korean language support to consoles

User Interface

Updated title screen to reflect Forsaken launch

Director

The Director screen has been updated to reconfigure the way challenges, milestones, Flashpoints, and quests are presented:

Challenges

The Year 1 challenge system has been removed and converted into bounties, which will be available through their respective destination and activity vendors on September 4

Bounties are displayed in the Pursuits bucket of the inventory screen

In Year 2 (Forsaken), “challenges” now refer to the bonuses that grant rewards on a daily or weekly basis 

These can be seen in the Director via new indicators on a playlist or destination when available

Milestones

The milestone tray will now be limited to showing specific quests and quest steps

One-time completion objectives, such as campaign missions, subclass missions, and strikes introductions will remain as milestones

Players who do not have any active milestones will not see a milestones blade being displayed

Many Year 1 milestones have been converted into challenges

These challenges will continue to grant powerful rewards

Weekly and daily milestones

Previous weekly and daily milestones, such as strike completion and Crucible, will now appear as weekly or daily challenges on their associated playlists

Flashpoints

The Flashpoint milestone will now appear as a challenge visible on its respective destination vendor

Flashpoint progress has been expanded to include Lost Sectors and Heroic adventures

Exotic quests

Exotic quests are now displayed in the Inventory tab under the Pursuits bucket

They can be recovered at the quests’ associated vendor if abandoned

Exotic quests now correctly use Exotic coloring in the UI

Icons for Exotic quests are now appropriately represented with Exotic rarity

World quests

World quests are now displayed in the Inventory tab under the Pursuits bucket

Updated the Director with a new theme and layout to better represent destinations for Year 2

Presell is in the Reef location

The “Leviathan” raid and raid lairs have been moved to Nessus

Character Screen

Weapon slots

Weapon tooltips now display ammo types

White ammo icon – “Primary”

Green ammo icon – “Special”

Purple ammo icon – “Heavy”

The HUD will show a color based on the associated ammo type next to each weapon on the weapon tray

Subclass screen

The path name is now being displayed along the bottom of the character art

Collections

Collections are not available until September 4

Triumphs

Triumphs are not available until September 4

Gear tooltips

Perks are displayed by name only on tooltips for Ghost Shells, weapons, and armor

Exotic perks will display a short description