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shera-dnd · 3 years

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And we are back, this time with some wonderful backstory for our favorite cat.

Also featuring Ozpin being his usual weird self and Adam being a cunt

AND ANGST

so all the things we love here

The night was dark and the rain was loud. An army could march around this human village, and would have been none the wiser. But the fae didn’t need an army to wipe them out, all they needed was a single woman with just enough hurt to compel the world to act.

The Black Cat emerged from the nearby woods. Her mission was clear in her mind, and her pain fresh in her heart. Silently she stalked through the night and circled the human village.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

With each full circle she recited the crimes of their people. The true names of those they had killed, the forests they burned, the villages they destroyed. And with each circle the shadows grew longer and darkness grew deeper. Threatening to engulf the village entirely.

It was when she had finished the third circle that she saw him. A man standing alone in the pouring rain, his smell both impossibly old and incredibly young. The man raised his cane, and The Black Cat flinched as she saw the glint of metal, but it soon became clear that it was made of silver, not iron. Then he brought his cane down.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

And the shadows receded.

Though the Cat was certain that her magic still hid her from sight, the man looked into her eyes and addressed her directly.

“I was hoping to have a chat with one of your kind,” he spoke, more calmly than she liked.

Perhaps it was curiosity, perhaps it was a need to assert her power over the strange human, but something spurred the Cat to emerge from the shadows. She stood up now on her hind legs, easily towering over the man.

“You’re rather bold, human,” she snarled.

“Just an old man who knows a thing or two about magic,” he answered.

She had heard about people like him. Humans who had learned the secrets of magic. “A wizard then? And you think your magic can protect this village?”

“I am hoping it will not come to that,” his tone was as calm as ever even as he stood within mawling range of the large fae.

“Again, very bold for a human,” she commented.

He smiled at that.

“Now, tell me,” he began, “why exactly are you turning your ire towards these people?”

The Cat growled, “they’re too close!”

“And yet, for each tree cut down, a new one is planted. For each animal hunted, their bones are buried in the woods. When a circle of mushrooms is found, we step around them,” he explained, and the cat could tell that his voice matched his smell more than his face, “we shun iron, and abide by the ancient ways. Surely, this is the sort of cohabitation that could not possibly offend our fae neighbors?”

His words touched the tiniest ember of hope that still hid in her heart. It was the most insignificant remnant of her life before she became unseelie, and for a moment it sparked with life. The Cat was quick to bury it under a mountain of contempt.

“The unseelie do not seek cohabitation,” she countered, “you’re too close!”

“Can we not convince you to change your mind?” The man asked, unwilling to let go of hope.

“You cannot atone for humanity’s sins,” she snarled.

The man let out a tired sigh, and for a moment looked so old she was convinced he would crumble to dust before her.

“Humanity is divided, my friend,” he argued, though that statement seemed to hurt him to say, “you’ve clearly met those who arm themselves in iron and march into your woods, I’m sure. Now you’ve met those like us. Are we not as different from one another as your courts?”

That quiets her. Though he was human, he echoed the words of a fae she had abandoned long ago. Another black cat whose strength of body was matched only by his strength of heart.

“You’ve been chatting with me far too long for a true member of the unseelie courts,” he commented.

She growled and bared her teeth at him.

“My apologies,” he replied, hand raised in surrender, “it was simply an observation.”

“I’ve made my choice!” She shouted, “I do not intend to change my mind.”

That caught his attention, “so you chose to walk the path of the unseelie.”

She should kill him. Slit his throat. Bite his head off. Poison him, and leave him to die, it didn’t really matter how. He was human -a threat - she should return him to nature then and there. But something about that felt wrong. Something in her still truly wanted to believe what he had to say.

So instead she answered, “yes.”

“And yet, you have your doubts,” he said, clearly seeing the conflict within her, “please, listen to them, listen to what your heart has to say.”

She hesitated, unsure of the path she should take.

“Why do you seek this alliance with our kind?” She asked.

“Because that is the right thing to do,” he spoke with true faith, and conviction behind every word. It felt strange and familiar all the same.

Once more his words rang true, and once more she felt those embers ignite.

“I would like to make a statement, in the near future,” he continued to explain himself, “of hope and goodwill, and of harmony with the natural world. I do not rule this kingdom, but its lords value my insight, and have agreed that perhaps it is time...that a fae joined our ranks.”

“Join you?” Her words didn’t sound like mockery, as much as she wanted them to, “am I to be your diplomat? Your Servant? Or perhaps there is some heir of yours you’ll have me marry.”

“No, no. Goodness, nothing of the sorts,” he answered with a hearty chuckle, “if you’ll allow me to explain. Our four kingdoms are guarded by four sacred orders of knights, each led by a witch who grants us small boons of magic when the times allow. Though their primary function is to commune with our vacant divines.”

“So you want a fae to take that role? A faery witch for an order of human knights?”

“That would maybe be too bold for my colleagues’ tastes,” he replied, “but there is an empty seat in the Order of the Fall Maiden, and we would be honored to have one of yours fill it.”

She studied him for a moment, pondering his words. Something about the man still unsettled her, something that made him…not fully human. She couldn’t quite tell what that something was, but it unsettled her.

“Am I to be your appointed knight?” She asked, quietly now, like the embers that were burning would snuff out if she spoke any louder.

“You are the one they call The Black Cat, yes? Blake, I believe was the name,” he asked, the name he offered was wrong, and he knew that, was he offering her a courtesy? “Well, I think you may be more than qualified for the role.”

Years ago ‘Blake’ would have taken that offer without a second thought. To be the bridge between her people and the humans, to usher in an era of peace and cooperation between their people, it would be the greatest honor. But too many years, too many scars made sure she couldn’t just trust their kind like that.

“And why would I accept your offer?” She demanded.

“We can grant you a boon,” he answered, “and the Fall Witch already has one in mind for you.”

Blake raised an eyebrow and the man smirked.

“We can make you immune to iron.”

~~~

That night Blake ran through hidden trails, and down non-existent paths. She leaped from shadow to shadow, through roots and branches, until she reached the one place humanity had never, and would never, touch. She was back home, with the unseelie, though she didn’t approach her people just yet.

She stalked at the edges of their home, looking for the one man she wished to speak to. Thankfully he was - as always - the center of attention, boasting about the blow they were about to strike against humanity, and how his lover would be the one to deliver it.

Huh, that word had never bothered her before now.

Getting his attention on the other hand was a bit harder, but she asked the wind to whisper his name for her. Though he did not stop his speech immediately, he at least seemed to notice her presence. Thankfully his boasting did not last much longer and soon he walked up to meet her.

“My love,” he greeted, full of pride, “by the smell of human on you, I take it your mission has gone perfectly.”

Taurus.

Her love.

A great blind bull, with fur as red as blood, his body scarred from iron brandings. He was the rage of the fae given form, the epitome of everything the unseelie believed. But right now, Blake had to hope he would be her lover first.

“The villagers still live, my love,” she replied, shrinking in shame.

“What!?” Anger flashed in his voice, but he soothed it quickly, “I mean...did something go wrong?”

“Not exactly,” Blake answered. Explaining things to Taurus would be a delicate process, she had to choose her words carefully, “the night answered my call at first, but the villagers…they had a wizard with them.”

He huffed at that word, “if he as much as touched you with his filthy human magic tricks I swear on the moon and stars I’ll--!”

“He didn’t!” She interrupted, trying to keep his rage from rising once again, “he only used his magic to stop mine. He didn’t want to fight me, he just wanted to talk.”

“The human wanted to talk?” He scoffed.

“Yes!” She insisted.

“Tell me you did not allow the human to poison you with his words,” his tone turned demeaning, in a way it did far too often in these recent months.

“He did not poison me!” She bit back, her own fury flaring at his condescension, “we spoke and he made me an offer.”

“How bold of him,” he mocked.

“Will you at least listen to what he had to say!?” Blake snapped, tired of his derision, “he offered me a chance to help stop an all out war between our people!”

“And you believed him?” He accused, “don’t you see what that means? They fear us, beloved. They know they cannot stop us if we go to war, so they try to trick us instead.”

“This is no trick, my love,” she insisted, “we can finally have peace.”

“I do not want peace!” Taurus shouted, “you think I will accept anything less than retribution? You think I will rest until I have my revenge?”

When had her love become so self centered?

It was as if a glamour had begun to crack in front of her, and she did not like what hid behind it.

“What about the rest of us? Are we not allowed to choose peace!?” She countered.

“My love, don’t you understand?” He asked, voice turning sickly sweet, “the humans are just trying to divide us. They know how strong we are, and they know they don’t stand a chance if we fight together. Their peace is nothing but a deception meant to weaken us.”

“But love--”

“See?” He interrupted, moving closer and gently holding her in his arms, “If they can make us argue like this, can you imagine how easily they would split our people?”

She pushed him away and growled, “you think me some child who can be swayed by some treats? You think I let those humans live because some old man with a fancy cane dangled a boon in front of me?”

That made him quiet down for a moment, and she had hoped he had seen reason, but she had no such luck.

“What boon?”

“He promised to take away our only weakness,” Blake answered, “make me immune to the touch of iron.”

And so Taurus laughed, “you believed that?”

“Yes!” She roared back, “and it’s my choice to offer him my trust. I did not come here to ask for your permission. I came here to let you know I would be leaving.”

“What!? You’re just gonna leave me like that? Gonna choose some human lie over your people? Over us!?” He accused, hand reaching to grab her.

Her tail whipped and poisonous thorns scratched at his skin. Her toxin would not kill him, but it still caused him terrible pain.

“If this is truly about us. If you really do love me, then say my name, Taurus!” Blake demanded. His name that had once tasted like love in her lips, now tasted of rage, and bitterness, it was an accusation, and a challenge. Show me that you love me, or leave me forever!

And so Taurus made the biggest mistake he’d ever made.

He hesitated, and that told her all she had to know.

He would never see her again.

#rwby #blake belladonna #medieval au #fanfic

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so-i-dont-forget-again · 3 years

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So I Don’t Forget Again: A Breath of The Wild fanfiction

Entry 148: Zora’s Domain

After training and eating Sidon told me he needed help. Muzu wanted to search out these ancient slabs engraved in the Domain’s cliffs with history on them, and he needed someone to go and check on them, make sure they weren’t damaged, but due to an accident the map with the locations of them broke and couldn’t be pieced together so they would need to be searched out! Sidon had some idea of where to go, but he thought with all the traveling I do, I’d be able to spot them amongst all the nature since I have to climb, and find good places for shelter often.

Sidon is a little disappointed to be missing out on training, but when he has the time, I’ll give him private training. He seemed to like the idea of that.

I never thought about it before, but with so much water around, it only makes sense that they don’t write on paper, instead they engrave everything on stone slabs, from recipes to their history. We actually went past a few when trudging through the storm, there are little glowing pillars next to engraved walls. Sidon wrote down what was on the wall in case it were to erode away due to lack of care one day. I find that unlikely, the Zoras are too loving of others and themselves to let even crystal to not be well cared for, especially so when Sidon will lead them.

The first one we spotted was not on the path though, it was down by the water where we were first searching.

It’s the legend that started the tradition of Zora princesses making armor for their future husbands.

I can’t remember much of my past, so… Did I agree to marry Mipha, and we just hadn’t told anyone, or did she make this for me to confess her feelings? What was our relationship exactly? She knew me as a child, but then I disappeared and came back as a knight years later. Her diary never said if we really spent time together. Did we do things like what Sidon and I are now?

The legend was about a king who was not good at war but loved his people and wife immensely. Before he went into a ferocious battle his wife sewed one of her scales into his armor, wanting her love to protect him in some way and it did, light shone down on it, reflecting off it blinding the enemy and they won.

Sidon recounted how he couldn’t recall any legends about princes of the Zora. He perked up when I said that our saving Ruta would likely be legendary. He liked the idea of being in a legend with me.

This next one we found on the trail. It spoke of how Lanayru always had lots of rain so Zoras naturally gathered and that was how the Domain was created ten thousand years ago. It even explained how with all the crystals around they created new ways to work with the stone and made the whole Domain to be like a sculpture. Seems that’s seeped into everything about them. They themselves even embody that, beautiful, elegant, and strong. I suppose it’s only natural for the prince of such a place to reflect all that it is, who his people are and more.

Sidon told me that before Zora history was regularly archived there was this legend passed down about crystals, it seems the gems have always been important to them. It was of how the Zora’s got their crest of the three crescent shapes. Apparently it was a blue gem that was passed down and used for proposing marriage. He didn’t know too many more details though, but the thought of the crest coming from a tradition about love is something Sidon holds dear.

Doing some searching off the trail and we found another one, but it was a bit of a drop from one cliff to another. Sidon was just able to carry me and Bossa Nova and hop down to it.

The reservoir where Vah Ruta was making it’s rampage, it’s a symbol of sorts. The Hylians came to help the Zora from flooding that would always destroy their home and people, and together they built a great dam. This managed to save all of Hyrule from flooding. As thanks for helping the Zora build the reservoir they promised to manage it and protect the rest of Hyrule from floods. It symbolizes the ten-thousand-year long bond between us. Sidon says that it seems history truly repeats himself, and just looked to me, smiling.

He told me the Hylians and Zora have a very extensive history. We’ve always helped out one another in tough times, even having history before ten thousand years ago, but the time before then hadn’t been as well documented like this current era. Some of the wall carvings might have those tales, Sidon got really excited at the thought of finding them.

He then seemed to realize something. He told me of some tales Kass had told me. The ones of the old heroes, the one who could control time with music and the one who could control wind. Sidon told me that some said there is supposedly a legend which connected them all. The hero reincarnating. Sidon wondered if maybe they Hylians and Zora could have such good relations for so long was because the two of us perhaps reincarnated and our bond is eternal. So no matter where I go, no matter the time, even if I live forever, we’ll meet again, and the relations between Zora and Hylians will be renewed because of our friendship. He told me that’d mean, no matter what, he would ALWAYS be with me, no matter what, even time could not be a factor. Our friendship was one that would last forever.

I don’t like the thought of living forever. I don’t like the thought of reincarnating, it’d mean I’d never get to rest, I’d always have to fight. But… if every time I always had Sidon by my side or at least close by, I think I could bare it all. I’d at least get to spend more time with him. Maybe in some other life, everything could just be a little more peaceful and we could just be together without a part of me feeling like I should be going, that I shouldn’t be here, that it’s bad to be here, enjoying myself when I have to be saving them, not be with them.

I’d like a life like that.

There’s a window in my room, I can see the soft glow of the stone and city from it. It’s pretty.

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ao3feed--reylo · 4 years

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Pomegranate Flowers

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2On7AEq

by amarettobronislaw

Rey loved the spring.

The burst of colour after a long winter gave her such joy, it screamed of life and vitality, and she thrived in it. The dusty, humid summers were tiring, the scorched ground shrivelling plants as quickly as they had appeared, and was nothing like the feeling of rain on bare skin.

Rey continued to pluck flowers as she went, her cotton shawl draped over her shoulders against the fresh breeze on the air. Her simple yellow dress dampened as she brushed through the dewy grass, but she took no mind, smiling at the sensations of the plants at her fingers.

Rey's life was about to change. Her simple life on the outskirts of Jakku was over as she is plunged into a world of decadence, politics, desire, and danger.

All that she had ever known was to be rewritten; the truth of the Empire she once believed in is to be shattered. And amongst it all, his eyes remain.

Words: 1568, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Ancient Greek Religion & Lore

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M, F/F

Characters: Rey (Star Wars), Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux, Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious, Snoke (Star Wars), Phasma (Star Wars), Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Hades (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), hades!kylo - Character, persephone!rey - Character, Knights of Ren

Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Reylo

Additional Tags: Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), very loosely inspired, Alternate Universe - Medieval, cottagecore oops, GoT-type Houses and Realms, Knights - Freeform, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Eventual Fluff, Reylo - Freeform

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2On7AEq

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #Star Wars #Reylo #Kylo Ren #Rey

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ao3feed4reylo · 4 years

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via AO3 works tagged 'Star Wars - All Media Types' read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/2On7AEq amarettobronislaw

by amarettobronislaw

Rey loved the spring.

Rey's life was about to change. Her simple life on the outskirts of Jakku was over as she is plunged into a world of decadence, politics, desire, and danger.

All that she had ever known was to be rewritten; the truth of the Empire she once believed in is to be shattered. And amongst it all, his eyes remain.

Words: 1568, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Ancient Greek Religion & Lore

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M, F/F

Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Reylo

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/2On7AEq

#IFTTT #AO3 works tagged 'Star Wars - All Media Types' Rey/Ben Solo #Reylo #Kylo Ren/Rey #TheLastJedi

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gwiiyeoweo · 5 years

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Sometimes it’s difficult having two guardians bonded to your soul — especially when they come from rival factions. Ignis stays by his right, Ardyn at his left, with Noctis the metaphorical and literal wall keeping them from tearing each others’ wings off.

But with Ardyn’s return after his two-year disappearance, Ignis is determined to light up the demon with holy fire and righteous judgment.

Pairing: Noctis/Ignis, Noctis/Ardyn Rating: G

Ignis was seething.

He paced around the room — twelve steps forward, a quick turn, twelve steps back — as his shoes threatened to burn a track into the floor. Noctis thought there really would be a trail singed into the carpet, unless Ignis calmed down enough before he accidentally called forth holy fire in all his fury, setting fire to not only his furniture but also his Justice Monster figurines. He really liked his figurines.

“The nerve of him! The audacity! After two years of absolutely nothing, this is how he comes back? As the Chancellor of your nation's enemy?” Ignis hissed, throwing his hands into the air. White embers flicked off his fingers, sparking in the air but fading before they could hit the carpet.

“I'm sure there's a reason.”

At the foot of his bed, Noctis lounged on his stomach, his elbows propped up on a pillow as he tapped away on his phone — glancing up much too often to make sure his curtains didn't catch fire. In contrast to Ignis’ fit of rage, the prince was content to play away on King's Knight with apparent indifference. Or at least, that's the facade he was trying to keep up. His own stomach was a gnarled mess, and it wasn't only because Ignis kept far too true to his name, a walking fire hazard ready to combust and take everything within a fifty meter radius with him. "Besides, he's here for a peace treaty, for y'know. Peace."

“And a damn good reason it'll be or I will burn his entire collection of rags he calls his wardrobe and everything he loves,” he promised, stopping only to turn and point his finger at Noctis. The utter look of retribution, Noctis knew, wasn't aimed at him but at Ardyn.

“He loves me.” It's a matter of fact all three of them know, even if Ignis was starting to doubt Ardyn's side of things, and Noctis peeked through the dark of his fringes to look up at him, a wry smile pulling at his lips. “Are you going to set me on fire too?”

Ignis huffed and rolled his eyes, his ire temporarily subdued as he relented to Noctis. “You very well know what I mean,” he sighed. “I'd never hurt you, dear heart.”

“I know.” Noctis patted at the empty space beside him. “Sit down, just watching you stomp around makes me tired, and I don't want to explain to the maids why the carpet's all charred.”

Ignis obeyed, settling down the flames of his temper lest the bed catch on fire, and unceremoniously dropped himself beside Noctis, the bed dipping at the added weight. He ran a hand through those black silky locks, nestling his fingers into his skull and gently massaging, and pressed a chaste kiss to Noctis’ temple, voice soft and sympathetic as he murmured, “I know you're at least a bit upset as well. You can't hide it.”

And that, combined with the risk of Ignis burning down his room, had made the knot in Noctis' stomach. But it hit like a punch in the gut when the angel voiced it, the careful gentleness in his tone more like the slow peeling of a bandaid held down with super glue.

Noctis swallowed the hurt that rose up in his throat, letting his phone fall out of his hands to bury his face into the blanket. Ignis’ lingering touch in his hair was a small comfort, but it didn't ease the ache in his chest. His angel sensed it, could literally feel the tangle of sorrow yet relief in his messy swamp of emotions, and Noctis could feel Ignis prodding at the invisible bond that they shared. Noctis, in turn, reached out to that tether, and a wave of comfort raced toward him in a flood of unconditional love. Times like these made him truly appreciate these soul bonds, allowing them to express things that words could never do, or when Noctis was too stubborn to voice his troubles out loud.

Or to confirm that his other bonded was still alive and well, when he had decided to just disappear on Noctis for apparently no rhyme or reason. Or to make sure his guardian demon still loved him and didn't ditch him to return back to the Astralsphere because he got tired of Noct's brattiness. Or to learn that Ardyn held eyes and a dead blackened heart only for Noctis and that he's trying to finish his business as fast as he could to return to his little prince's side.

It hadn't been those exact words — they exchanged emotions and concepts in the place of language in that soul plane — but that had been the general message. And it was precisely why Ardyn currently held the top spot on Ignis’ shit list right now, when usually he held 5th place.

Because, instead of sending some vague concepts across Noctis’ bond, Ardyn could have at least used his few brain cells to oh, perhaps sit down with the poor boy and actually talk through whatever foolish plan he had in that empty space of his. But no, Ignis figured that would have been too much to ask! So naturally, Ardyn would just completely ghost their darling prince, without ever saying a single word of warning, for over two damn years. Because yes, that is precisely what a guardian who's bonded in both heart and soul to Noctis should do, especially since it would bring about unimaginable distress to the very one they so loved.

And to top it all off, Ardyn had the gall to saunter into the Citadel this morning, announcing himself as a diplomat for the very kingdom Lucis was at war with — all as if everything was right as gentle rain. He had only glanced at Noctis, sparing him nary a thought as he gave some grandiose speech. Ignis hadn't heard any of it, too infuriated at Ardyn but more concerned over Noctis. But his charge, much to his credit, had kept most of his composure, holding tightly to the neutral expression he regarded the entire Niflheim convoy with. But Ignis had known that expression, that mask he's seen too many times be pulled out to cover and hide the splinters of his dear prince's heart.

Even Regis, having met both his son's guardians, had barely held back the incredulity that threatened to surface. He had looked ready to riot, if the stiff knuckles that kept him from launching himself off the throne meant anything.

Ignis hadn’t missed the little details, however; he’d known what to look for, how Noctis’ breathing became too even and steady, the tight clench of a stiff jaw, the sudden rigidity in his spine, the nails that bit into his own left palm. And underneath it all, Ignis had felt the storm of grief and betrayal swirling into a veritable maelstrom that could impress even Leviathan and Ramuh, all coiled into a gnarled knot in Noctis’ heart. It had taken him everything to not cause a scene, because while he and Ardyn certainly have their differences, this whole fiasco was just on a different level from their regular petty squabbles.

So yes, Ardyn was an absolute genius. At being a fuckwit.

Ignis wanted to say he didn't understand how or why Noctis was so willing to forgive, but he couldn't deny it. He understood far too well and despite the grievances, he somehow felt relief upon having Ardyn again. Because not only did Noctis share a bond with Ignis, he shared one with Ardyn.

Ignis knew from experience just how much love Noctis regarded him with, could always feel it within the soul bond they shared; and as much as he hated the demon, he knew Noctis held nothing less for Ardyn either.

“It’s fine,” Noctis muttered, a poor attempt at a lie.

“No, it is not.”

And it wouldn’t be until Ardyn brought his sorry ass in here to explain himself. Ignis had half a mind to just stalk down the halls and find the man himself, to grab him by those ridiculous scarves and ruffles at his neck and drag him through the corridors and throw him at Noctis’ feet, regardless if they were in public or not. The only thing really stopping him from going was his concern for Noctis. His prince, despite his brave front, was not in a good headspace right now.

So of course, Ardyn's timing would be absolutely impeccable. As always.

Noctis snapped his head to the twin doors, heavy ornate things trimmed with gold, though the gleam and shine was swallowed by the inky darkness seeping through the cracks and keyholes. A black smoke wafted through the crevices, coiling and crawling through the air and carpet, bringing with it the unmistakable odor of sulfur and ancient fire.

Ignis’ eyes dilated, nostrils flared, and it took all his willpower to reign in his instincts that screamed and snapped at him to prepare, defend, attack. His senses were sent on high alert, warning sirens bellowing at him to take Noctis and flee or to strike the vile thing before it could get the chance, to burn it with white fire and holy light. He barely managed to swat his righteous fury and divine flames down, but his wings itched so terribly at his back, beckoning to breach into the physical plane and drape themselves over Noctis to shield and protect.

He knew, as well as he knew his bond and love for his prince, that this demon posed no danger. His mind knew, his heart knew. But the memories and duties etched into his body forgot. It had been so long, that he grew accustomed to the lack of company, that all the time and familiarity spent with the accompanying demon fell to the wayside. Two years wasn't long in the grand scheme of things, not for beings such as himself, but it was enough for old instincts to return, to forget that Ardyn wasn't an enemy but an… insufferable ally.

They watched as the dark tendrils coiled and gathered into themselves, climbing higher into the air as they took on the shapes of arms and legs and that gaudy overcoat. Wisps of auburn hair fell over his face, and golden eyes gleamed through the darkness that spread into skin and a wicked smile.

“Noctis, my dear, oh so good to see you again.”

Ardyn brandished his hat and bowed his head, flourishing a hand to the side in his typical dramatic fashion. With that infuriating grin Ignis so despised, he raised his eyes toward Noctis, as well as an extended hand.

But before Noctis could even think to take it, Ignis was upon the demon with all the same divine wrath he took upon the war fields. Lapels tearing underneath his white-knuckled fists, Ignis drew them face to face and bared his teeth, a man ready to absolutely destroy if Ardyn dared answer wrongly.

“Explain.” Ignis hissed, embers threatening to turn into flames. Ardyn's lapels were already beginning to smoke.

Ardyn, unsurprisingly, looked rather peachy. His grin didn’t falter, but he tuned it down into a patient smile, as his eyes set amicably upon the furious angel even as he threatened to burn him alive. He only appeared mildly perturbed about his singed coat, the promise of holy retribution a mild inconvenience at best, and he spared a slow glance at Noctis before returning his gaze back to Ignis.

“My good Scientia, let us try to be civil about this — I'd rather you not burn my favorite scarf.”

And that, a wrong answer.

Ignis shimmered in a light of gold and silver, dragging out Ardyn's own crimson and obsidian, before forcing them out of the physical plane. His downy wings flared for just a moment, clashing against the demon’s leathery pair, and the two blinked out of reality in a flash of magic.

Noctis didn't even have the opportunity to have his say in any of it, and he could only watch as Ignis pulled Ardyn and himself into the Astralsphere to duke it out there, instead of turning Noctis’ room into armageddon. He wouldn't have to tug on the threads of his bonds to know what sort of chaos their conflicting powers must be blending up. He could picture a clash of black and white flames filling the void of their plane, with Ignis raining down holy judgment and Ardyn dancing around like it was all a mere game of tag.

This wasn't how he expected their reunion, and he really would have liked to hear Ardyn's explanation for his ill-timed two-year disappearance. But Noctis was also a bit bitter at the demon's lack of tact, so if Ignis wanted to let off some steam and take his frustrations out on Ardyn, then that was quite fine too. He only hoped they wouldn't take too long. It was already getting lonely.

“And you couldn't tell us this prior to your disappearance because?” Ignis kept his arms crossed, looking every inch of a dove whose feathers were ruffled. There’s some soot on his cheek, the cuffs of his once meticulous suit singed black and torn. His hair lost its usual styling, the gel not enough to hold through whatever chaos it had to endure. Noctis rather liked it down.

Ardyn didn’t fare better, who sat on his knees and kept his hands in his lap before Ignis and Noctis, like a brat being lectured for some playground bullying. He lost one of his scarves and a layer of clothing, his vest a frazzled mess with the buttons missing. One of his sleeves looked close to falling off, the burnt threads barely keeping the seams together., and his ratty hat had certainly seen better days. He scratched his sparse beard with one finger, turning his eyes upward. “Short notice, no time to be had.”

Ignis was just about to go for another tussle, when Noctis managed to hold him back and saved Ardyn’s face from a white-knuckled punch.

“Okay, okay, time out! We’re using words this round, okay? Words. ” Noctis pulled at Ignis’ arm and shuffled him back a few extra steps. He looked to Ardyn and waited for an affirmation; when the demon nodded in compliance, he turned to Ignis who only stared back with a disgusted look on his face. Noctis, though, didn’t relent and stared back harder, setting his eyebrows in a stony gaze and his lips in a firm line. “ Ignis. ”

Ignis could be a child sometimes with that stubborn streak of his, but ultimately, he’d always say yes to Noctis. “…Fine.”

Noctis thanked him with a soft kiss to his jaw, successfully cooling the angel’s simmering ire by a few degrees, and turned to sit on the floor with Ardyn, sitting just across from him. “Alright, so take it from the top one more time. You know I have no idea what you guys say when you poof out of reality.”

He may be more generous and patient than Ignis — and hold actual love for him while the angel barely had the tolerance — but he was still upset. Ardyn’s shoddy explanation didn’t help with his mood or loosen that dagger of betrayal wedged in his side, even if he knew full well the demon had only his best interests in mind. But while he had absolute trust and faith in Ardyn, seeing him waltz into the audience chamber as the fucking Chancellor of Niflheim, the empire that had almost managed to kill the Prince when he was only a child, did not appeal to his logic.

"Well, for starters, we all know your lovely kingdom has been at war with Niflheim for the past… However many decades." Ardyn made a gesture in the air.

"Ah, yes. Start off with a riveting little prologue, why don’t you?" Ignis struck in, his patience running on fumes now. "Now on with it."

Noctis shot a look at the angel. " Ignis. "

"I'm using words. You told me to use words, and I am using them."

Noctis rolled his eyes; Ignis was technically right but still. He allowed him his loophole and turned his attention back to Ardyn. "Okay, and?"

"And you know what my role is, what I must do as your guardian demon."

Noctis nodded.

Demons were still demons, guardian or not. They handled the nefarious aspects of life, worked hand in hand with sins and sinners, walked beside destruction and crawled the earth like vipers. They were everything the old scrolls described them to be: cruel, cunning, and always looking for a poor soul to drag down. Some looked hideous, their skin and bones a mirror to their blackened hearts, others looked like art come to life — to tempt, to beguile. (Ignis would spit out how Ardyn needed to “put his face on” every morning, else there would be black slime oozing out of every orifice.)

But in the case of a guardian, in the case of Ardyn, it meant he wasn’t restricted to the goody two-shoes book of moral conduct that restricted Ignis. He could get his hands dirty and black and dip into the most unsavory tactics Ignis would never be allowed, all in the name of protecting his chosen — Noctis, his heart of hearts. He was the serpent that lashed its fangs and venom, the undying roach that creeped in the darkest cracks, the bloody hound that crushed limbs and tore flesh asunder.

The man willing to play diplomat for the enemy kingdom just so he could break it down from the inside, to never let it harm another hair on his beloved prince ever again, so he explained.

Noctis and Ignis stared at each other, their own faces reflecting each other’s thoughts of ‘What The Fuck Ardyn.’ Ignis, at least, no longer held the flames of anger in his chest, cooled down to smoldering embers now that they got a proper explanation. It… made sense, sort of. Ignis, by the sole virtue of what he is, could never play into deceptive tactics. Ardyn was free of the shackles that limited his counterpart, and he made use of that.

“You had Scientia here to keep you safe and warm within his soft downy wings.” Ardyn said, flicking off some ashes off his shoulders. “I was more than confident he’d mind you while I wormed my way into Iedolas’ good graces.”

Ignis slipped off his glasses to pinch at the bridge of his nose. “Still, you —”

“Asshole!”

Noctis reached over to his bed and shucked a pillow at Ardyn, hitting him squarely in the face and knocking his hat down with it. The demon looked as if it did more damage than any of the flaming daggers made, and Ignis was sure he landed one straight in Ardyn’s right arse. He crossed his arms in smug satisfaction, drinking up the man’s expression of ‘did he really do that noctis please why.’

“You couldn’t have said something before you decided to vanish like that?” Noctis didn’t snarl, but his tone and voice pierced harder than any furious scream could. There was something heated in the center, with its edges tipped with sharpened ice, and he made sure to drive it home.

“Now princeling, I did say it was imperative.” Ardyn held both his hands in the air, as if placating a wild beast turning its fangs on him. Noctis could be terrifying when his rage got the best of him, rivaling the flames of both guardians put together. “Wouldn’t want them firing the weapon that blasts your father’s Wall down, do we? Right? Scientia, do work with me here.”

“Five seconds, Ardyn.” Noctis dug the heels of his palms into his eyes. He looked ready to tear his own hair out. “You could have spared five seconds to say ‘Hey, I’m gonna make sure Niflheim doesn’t invade your country anymore, so toodles’ or something.”

Ignis cleared his throat, staring pointedly at them but ignoring Ardyn’s plea for help. “He does have a point. At the very least, a sticky note could have been something.”

"Cursed traitor, I’ll pluck your dainty feathers out like a chickatrice for hell’s oven,” Ardyn murmured. He’d rather pour a cup of holy water over himself than bear the brunt of Noctis’ ire any longer, however. It stung to hear his tone and see how cross he was, but he could feel the line in his soul burning from Noct’s end. Ardyn understood the reason behind the anger and distress, why Noctis felt torn between his fit of being left in the dark and his relief of finally having Ardyn returned to his side. He accepted his shortcomings, really.

“Noctis, precious boy, do forgive me.” He reached to brush tentative fingers against Noctis’ cheek, giving him the chance to pull away and brush off his hand should the prince so choose. Or bite him, whichever. But he only leaned into the touch, even pressing his hand over Ardyn’s to splay the full palm of his hand against skin.

“Just say something the next time you pull that sort of stunt. Please?” Noctis sounded incredibly weary then, laying everything out in one single exhale.

Ardyn knew this wouldn’t be the end of it, that there would be more to come later. But for now, they both wanted to just sweep it under the rug and salvage what should have been a happy, tear-jerking reunion. “I’ll keep it in mind,” he said, pulling Noctis to his chest.

Noctis sniffed, then sneezed straight onto Ardyn’s burnt vest.

“Ah, sorry again. Forgot about the soot.”

“That was still a dick move,” Noctis grumbled, hiding his face behind his fringes. But despite Ardyn’s idiocy and the near fallout, he’s relieved to finally have him at his side.

The soul bond had barely been enough to quell his anxieties, the only thing keeping himself together being Ignis’ gentle reassurances and Ardyn’s warm tugs sent across their link. It didn’t make up for the lost time and space between them, when the demon would have always been hovering by his shoulder — just out of sight from the humans but within Noctis’ reach — so he’s making Ardyn repay his debts as he spoke. Noctis looked up, from where he perched himself in between Ardyn’s legs and pressed his own back against the demon’s chest.

As if the physical contact could somehow fill in for the two years’ time he’s gone without.

“So I’ve been reminded for the sixth time.” Ardyn lightly kissed the crown of Noctis’ head and laced his fingers atop the boy’s lap, essentially locking the prince within his hold. “I am sorry, princeling. I didn’t think you’d be so lonely, especially with Scientia still at your side.”

“You are an utter fool, Ardyn,” Ignis cut in, from where he worked in the kitchenette, and pointed the business end of a fruit knife at him.“You know how anxious he can be. Imagine how he had been when he thought you left for good.”

"Oh, you foolish thing," Ardyn sighed, peppering kisses along Noctis' shoulder. "I'd never give you up for even a thousand damned souls."

Noctis whined deep in his throat, conflicted between drinking up the comforts and fighting off the embarrassment that came with the onslaught of affection. He wiggled in Ardyn's hold, mumbling between his breaths, and buried his face into his hands. "Just, just shut up and keep cuddling."

Ardyn did just that, zipping his mouth closed and gently laying his chin on the boy’s head. Noctis reached a hand over the couch cushions, grabbing the remote then flipping through the channels to some food channel, and tucked himself just so until he found that perfect spot.

“Ardyn, care for some strawberries?” Ignis called out, already preparing a separate bowl.

“Absolutely.”

It’s funny, Noctis thought, how they always managed to just settle. Especially Ignis and Ardyn, being enemies by instinct and creation, yet they found moments to silently draw their truces and put away their flames and weapons, falling into domesticity whenever and wherever their prince was involved. He missed this, all of this. And he’d never voice it aloud, but he had begun to miss their constant bickering, their grumblings and hisses filling in the cracks of silence. No doubt that would all come later, probably after Noctis fell asleep, tucked between the weight of both their bodies and protective wings.

“… Can I get whipped cream on mine?” Noctis piped up.

“Of course, love.”

But for now, he’d allow himself to just be, with Ardyn at his back and holding him within his arms, and Ignis plopping himself right beside them, handing each of them a bowl of fruit to nibble on. The baking competition on TV was an afterthought, something to settle his gaze on while he relaxed in the comforting presence of both his guardians. He’s not sure if he could ever deal with another separation like that ever again, didn’t even dare to think of the possibility, but all he wanted right now was to enjoy having his family back together again — with Ignis holding his right hand, and Ardyn’s chin settled on his left shoulder.

#final fantasy xv #ff15 #noctis lucis caelum #ignis scientia #ardyn izunia #i can type

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jahaanofmenaphos · 5 years

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Art by the awesome @tommieglenn!

Of Gods and Men Summary:

When the gods returned to Gielinor, their minds were only on one thing: the Stone of Jas, a powerful elder artefact in the hands of Sliske, a devious Mahjarrat who stole it for his own ends and entertainment. He claims to want to incite another god wars, but are his ulterior motives more sinister than that? And can the World Guardian, Jahaan, escape from under Sliske’s shadow?

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QUEST 01: THE TEMPLE KNIGHTS

QUEST SUMMARY:

After a troll attack on Burthorpe, Jahaan’s superiors take an interest in him and send him off to Sir Tiffy with the aim of making him a Temple Knight. However, it’s not as easy as signing on the dotted line…

CHAPTER 1: TROLL INVASION

“INCOMING!”

The cry echoed through the town like a gunshot. Instantly, the dreary principality of Burthorpe was alive and kicking.

Jahaan Alsiyad-Abut was on his bed at the time, resting his feet over a book he’d borrowed from his bunkmate: ‘The Ghastly Grimoire’, a collection of short (supposedly true) ghost stories. Horror wasn’t too much his forte, but good literature was hard to come by at the military base.

However, as soon as as he heard the deafening bellow from the major, ‘By the Light of the Moon’, the collection’s fourth tale, became the furthest thing from his mind.

It was the second raid of the fortnight, the fifth of the month, and by now, Jahaan knew the drill like clockwork. He slipped into his iron plate armour and platelegs within half a minute, then adorning a half-helm to cover his head. From beside his bunk, he grabbed his steel shortsword and iron square shield.

The soldiers were trained with either a shortsword and claws, or a bow and arrow. Melee fighters had to be trained in very close-quarters combat, with an emphasis on accuracy, so claws were favoured. Jahaan got along with the claws just fine, but definitely felt more at home with a blade in his hand.

When he dashed out of his tent, still fiddling with his gloves, he saw a brightly coloured man just a few tents over, juxtaposing the dismal surroundings of the military camp. Burthorpe was a very grey town - the climate meant that for most of the year the place was overcast, shrouded in thick clouds, occasionally drenching the place in rain, just to make it look that much more miserable. Today was one of those days. The brightly coloured man, however, did not seem phased by the dark, or the cold, or the wind or the rain, despite him wearing clothes much more suited to desert climates.

With a grin, Jahaan hurried over to the only man he knew to be that inappropriate in his attire.

“Ozan!” Jahaan exclaimed when he was in earshot.

Ozan turned from the conversation he was engaged in and, upon seeing Jahaan trot over to him, met the man in the middle with a tight embrace. “Jahaan, my man!”

Ozan was a fairly tall gentlemen with a smile that exuded charisma, brightening up even the most miserable of places; he was like a glowing candle in the middle of Burthorpe, a flame that could never be extinguished. His skin was slightly dark, like Jahaan’s, showing his desert origins. An expertly crafted bow was strung over his shoulders, with a large quiver of arrows to accompany it.

“What are you doing here?” Jahaan asked as they released their embrace.

“I was seeing a man about a herb in Taverly, and thought I’d come up to see if you were still alive. Turns out you are! Bravo!”

Hoping the trolls could wait another minute, Jahaan continued, “When did you get here, then? You timed it about right.”

“Crackerjack timing is my style. I literally just got here, and was about to come looking for you, but these fine gentlemen said they hadn’t had a drink in about three weeks, and I just HAD to help their poor souls. Now though, I think I’ll stay for the fun.”

One of the aforementioned soldiers, who was securing his arm guards, asked, “How do you two know each other?”

Ozan grinned. “It’s a long story. Ancient pyramids, lost treasure that turned out to be a bloke… I’ll tell you all about it once we make it out of this nuisance.”

“IF we make it out,” the soldier corrected, crossing himself.

“Oh, not if, WHEN. I’m not dying today.”

Jahaan shook his head in despair. “You really haven’t heard of not tempting fate, have you?”

Ozan winked, taking his bow from over his shoulders. “That would only slow me down,” he hopped over the barricade and joined the line of rangers who were readying themselves for the impending assault.

Twisting his steel shortsword around his hands a few times and gripping tightly onto his shield, Jahaan exhaled deeply, before running to the frontline.

There were three main fronts the trolls attacked on - east, west and centre. They never were all that coordinated with their attacks and sometimes only attacked one front per raid. Even then, they didn’t pool all their resources into it. Well, what little resources they had. Trolls had numbers that far outweighed what the Imperial Guard managed, but they were outclassed and outweaponed by their human opponents. Despite the numbers advantage, this was rarely utilised; sometimes trolls attacked with only a dozen to their ranks. The working theory was, legitimately, that a few of them got bored and began to cause a ruckus, trying to invade the town for the sheer hell of it.

The brutes were Bandosian, through and through, revelling in war and bloodshed. Bandos, being the War God that all trolls worshipped. Even in his absence of Gielinor, his presence was still felt in the chaos his followers caused.

Jahaan was on centre front, the main one, where the original horn had been blown from. So far, no other horns from the other battlements had sounded, meaning it didn’t look like the trolls were attempting a two-pronged attack today.

With about a dozen rangers on the battlements, another six back by the castle wall, and two dozen melee fighters on the frontline, all soldiers braced themselves for the attack.

The battlefield was fought in a small valley, surrounded by rocky mountains at either side, leading up to the Death Plateau. It provided a decent defence in that it streamlined where the trolls could attack from, but at the same time it concentrated their focus onto one small area that lead up to the battlements. On this dismal day, rain was already pouring from the grey skies, creating puddles in the uneven graveled ground beneath them.

Major Rancour stood atop the battlements, looking through her telescope as the trolls advanced. They didn’t have long. Clearing her throat, she drew her shortsword, held it high into the air, and shouted, “They want to burn our homes! They want to destroy our farmland and kill our loved ones! They will not succeed today! Every troll that falls is a crack in the glass house of the troll kingdom, and soon, they will all fall!”

Soldiers all around Jahaan cheered and screamed with bloodlust in their eyes, gripping their weapons tightly as the trolls rounded the final corner, led by the one they knew as General Morningstar.

He stood at twelve feet tall, his rock-covered body a natural armour, only leaving a few sensitive areas of bare flesh that the soldiers knew to target. Yellow and blue warpaint was haphazardly painted across his chest, though it didn’t resemble anything in particular. It seemed like he had small strands of grass growing out of the top of his head; his face sported two huge buck teeth at the front, guarding a large mouth that could devour a man with ease.

With an earth shattering roar, Morningstar motioned for his trolls to attack.

Morningstar’s battlecry couldn’t be matched by all the soldiers on the battlefield, but they gave it a damn good try, charging into battle and engaging the first troll that grunted in their direction.

Fortunately, these trolls were not gifted with the size and stature of their general, most of them standing at between four and six feet. They relied on brawn over brains, and due to their size, agility and speed were their weaknesses - the soldiers knew to keep moving, to get behind their opponent when they could, and aim for the softer skin located on the troll’s belly, the back of their neck, and at the arm and leg joints.

“SHIELDS!”

Jahaan didn’t know where the shout was coming from, but instincts kicked in; quickly, he dropped to his knees, his sword falling from his grip as he did so, in order for him to use both hands to brace his iron shield above his head. Every soldier did the same in unison, right as a barrage of rocks came raining down from the sky. It was the crude ariel assault from the trolls. In actuality, it did just as much harm as good, as more often than not the rocks would take out one of their own rank instead of a Burthorpe soldier. Each and every rock than dented his shield caused Jahaan to groan and wince - it wasn’t easy pushing back against that weight, but he survived. As soon as the all clear was given, he swiftly swooped his sword back up into his hands and cut through the first troll he saw, penetrating the soft area of his flesh with ease.

It didn’t take long before the majority of the troll foot soldiers were disposed of, leaving only their general.

Morningstar picked up a large boulder and launched it across the battlefield, over the heads of all the foot soldiers and straight into the castle walls. It shattered on impact, crashing large and heavy fragments down on the unprotected rangers, one of them Ozan, who fell to the ground, buried under the rocks. Seeing this, Jahaan went to rush to his side, before Rancour yanked him back by the sleeve of his uniform and motioned in the direction of Morningstar, who was roaring in a frenzy.

“Him first,” she ordered, holding her sword aloft, before charging towards the troll general. Jahaan followed in hot pursuit. When they got close, Morningstar pummelled the ground, causing a shockwave that sent the two of them tumbling to the floor, but they scurried away before the general could capitalise. Rancour swung for the softer flesh of the troll, but Morningstar twisted in time, causing the blade to ricochet off his rocky exterior. Jahaan went for a swing to the head, but Morningstar used his large arm to deflect the blow, throwing a punch at Jahaan in retaliation, who just about managed to roll out of the way to avoid impact. Fortunately, this distraction was enough to allow Rancour to land a significant cut on the kneecap of the general. Morningstar crumbled onto one knee, roaring in pain and fury. He swiped at Rancour with such force that the woman was sent flying back a good thirty feet, landing in a heap near the battlements. Just as Morningstar was about to turn his attention to Jahaan, the troll was too late; Jahaan stabbed his longsword deep into the trolls gut, twisting the blade inside, a fatal wound. He cut diagonally down as he removed the bloodstained sword; swaying and staggering, the troll then collapsed to the ground, breathing his final breath.

Major Rancour picked herself up from the ground, dusted herself off, and called out, “You injured, corporal?”

“No ma’am,” Jahaan exhaled, trying to catch his breath. He wiped the sweat from his brow. “Has anyone checked on Ozan?”

Emerging from the rubble, Ozan rubbed the back of his head and said, “You guys looked like you had everything under control. I thought I’d just hang back for a bit…”

As soon as the young man was in range, Jahaan punched Ozan in the arm. “Don’t you scare me like that again,” his scolding was light, too wrapped up in relief. “I thought we’d lost you there.”

“Ha! It takes more than that to take down-, wait do you hear that?”

It was faint, muffled, but there was the unmistakable sound of…

“Crying?” Jahaan ventured, confused. Looking around, he didn’t see any of his comrades breaking into tears, and it sounded more like a child than any adult.

From behind Morningstar’s corpse, a small, rock-like creature crawled out from a nearby boulder. It weaved its way under Morningstar’s massive arm, up to his large head, and looked into his lifeless eyes. It’s tiny little arms shivered as its disproportionate head nudged Morningstar’s, trying to will the general to wake up. After a few futile attempts, the little creature began to quiver, breaking down into more quiet, whimpering sobs.

The major’s shoulders sagged; she bit her lip, sighing. “Morningstar must’ve been its father. I wish trolls wouldn’t always take their children on raids like this…”

One of the soldiers took his bow from over his shoulders and readied an arrow, but his heart wasn’t in it. “It’s a troll… shouldn’t we…”

Taking one look into the round, beady eyes of the baby troll, Jahaan was quick to dispel such an idea. “We can’t kill it, look at it - it can’t be more than a week old.”

Slowly, he edged closer to the baby troll, trying to appear as unthreatening as possible. He was rather unsuccessful, as the troll jumped in fright and hid behind his father’s arm, trembling.

“Hey little fella, don’t worry, I won’t hurt you,” his voice was as soft as cotton wool. Crouching low, he held his hands out in a gesture of peace, not that the troll would be able to comprehend such things. It wasn’t likely he knew much of the common tongue, either. However, there was a universal language he knew the troll would be able to understand. Turning back to Ozan, he asked, “What do you have in your satchel?”

Snapping to attention, Ozan quickly rummaged through the contents of his shoulder bag. “Umm some wine, a dagger, a map, some coal, some rum, a scarf, some different wine…”

Rolling his eyes, Jahaan said, “Gimme the coal.”

Ozan carefully made his may over to Jahaan, trying not to frighten the troll any further. Handing over the coal, Jahaan then held out his hand, and offered the coal to the troll. “Food?”

At this, the troll’s eyes lit up. “Food!” it squeaked, gulping down the small lumps in one go. It wriggled and danced in happiness as the coal slipped down, its eyes shining with delight.

Jahaan felt his heart grow three sizes that day. “Look at him, look how cute he is!”

Ozan plucked up the courage to kneel down beside Jahaan, his face a picture of warmth. “He is rather adorable. Look at his little leaf sticking out of his head, and his little troll pants, and his little pacifier… awwww!”

The major shook her head at the two men cooing over the little creature, but she couldn’t help but crack a smile. “If you two love him that much, why don’t you just adopt him?”

Jahaan and Ozan shared a look, which caused the major to correct, “No, I wasn’t serious!”

Ozan grinned. “Do you think he could handle my heroic adventures?”

“You can barely handle your heroic adventures,” Jahaan chuckled in reply. Looking down at the fidgeting baby troll, Jahaan smiled and crossed his legs, inviting the baby troll into his lap. Eagerly, the troll shuffled up to him and cuddled into his thigh. “What’s your name, little fella?”

The troll’s face screwed up. “Name?”

“Trolls are named after the first thing they try to eat,” Major Rancour piped up. “Is that the first thing you’ve eaten, little one?”

The troll nodded, his little arms reaching out for more food. Ozan fished out one last lump of coal from his satchel, which the troll scoffed down, greedily. “Then his name is Coal!”

“Coal!” the troll echoed. “Me Coal! Me want foooooood!”

Jahaan laughed, putting a hand on Ozan’s shoulder. “You’ve got your work cut out for you, old friend.”

Jahaan and Ozan were busy enjoying the cute faces Coal was pulling when, from behind them, came a shout:

“Corporal Alsiyad-Abut?”

Jahaan turned around, squinting his eyes to find the source. A lanky man on the battlements holding a note seemed to fit the bill. “That’s me.”

“Commander Denulth wants to see you in his tent.”

Warily, Jahaan and Ozan exchanged worried glances, the former biting back a gulp. With a quick dart of his eyes to Major Rancour, Jahaan saw that she knew nothing about this, worrying him further. In all his time in the Imperial Guard, Jahaan had only a few run-ins with the Commander, none of them pleasant.

Bracing himself, Jahaan climbed up the rope ladder and navigated through the maze of tents before coming across where Commander Denulth was based.

“Come in,” the commander grunted when Jahaan appeared at the doorway.

Commander Denulth was a tall, well-built gentlemen, with a small grey moustache and beard combination. His bald head bounced light off it, creating shadow puppets on his dome from the candles. Sturdy steel shoulderplates and arm guards covered his black tunic, the mark of the Imperial Guard emblazoned on the centre. From the waist downwards he was covered in continuous steel, capping off in spike-toed boots. When Jahaan entered the tent, his gruff demeanour only grew tenser, his narrow eyes regarding the young corporal with the same disdain he seemed to hold for everyone and everything, even rabbits. It was a face only a mother could love.

“Sit down,” he ordered, his low voice gravelly. Immediately, Jahaan obeyed.

Denulth had taken his seat over the other side of his pristine oak desk, picking up a few papers and proceeding to read through them in silence. All the while, Jahaan fumbled his fingers, unsure where to focus his eyes. It felt wrong to stare directly at the commander, but then again, was it rude to look elsewhere? Would that give the impression he was bored? That he wished he could be anywhere else? While the latter might be true - Denulth was a rather imposing man, one you never wanted to be stuck alone with - he didn’t want that to come across. So, instead, he resigned to straighten his shoulders and look at the small hole in the fabric of the tent behind Denulth’s shiny head. While the commander flicked through his papers in agonising silence, occasionally signing a few, Jahaan pretended to imagine all the wonders that could be going on through that little hole in the fabric.

They could be holding a celebration? They’d dealt a significant blow in the war against the trolls, after all. Or maybe, slightly more morbid, they’re tending to the wounded through there? Or maybe an evil tree has just spring from the ground and a panicked little leprechaun is freaking out about it? It wouldn’t be the first time.

It had been five minutes. Has he forgotten about me? Jahaan wondered. I’m right here. Like, there’s no way he can’t see me in his peripheral vision.

Then, the worry he’d kept at the back of his mind started to creep forward and say a friendly little ‘hello’. Am I in trouble? Jahaan wrestled through his memory, trying to make a list of all the things he’d done that he knew he shouldn’t have done. It can’t be about Coal. That JUST happened. Is he trying to psych me out? Is this some sort of intimidation tactic?

If it was, it was working.

“You’ve been here two years,” the commander stated, so suddenly that it startled Jahaan, causing him to jump. “Turnaround for recruits is usually six months. Why’d you stick around?”

It took too long for Jahaan to remember how his tongue worked, and that it was used to formulate words. Words, in turn, formulated sentences. Marvels of the common tongue.

The expectant, impatient glare Denult shot at him wasn’t helping him with this realisation. Eventually, he stammered a reply, “Burthorpe and Taverley are fine cities with a lot of innocent people. I wanted to do my part to protect them.”

Commander Denulth didn’t seem impressed. “Is that true?”

“Yes sir,” Jahaan lied. Well, for the most part.

“So you think yourself a hero, huh cadet?”

“No sir.”

“Is your story supposed to warm the cockles of my cold heart?”

“No sir.”

“Why’d you join up in the first place?”

Jahaan bit back the urge to smirk. “I wanted to become an excellent swordsman, like you, sir.”

“Oh, are you trying to flirt with me now, cadet?”

“No sir.”

“Good, then stop with the forced compliments, or you’ll make me change my mind.”

Jahaan blinked. “Forgive me, sir, change your mind about what?”

Commander Denulth replied, “I’m sending you to Sir Tiffy. Whether he makes you a Temple Knight or his shoe shiner is up to him.”

The Temple Knights! Inwardly, Jahaan gasped. He’d only heard tales about them, It took a beat before Jahaan could stumble through his thoughts well enough to reply, “I-I’m honoured sir, but why?”

Denulth grunted. “Don’t give me any false modesty princess bullshit. You’re better than most of the cadets here and you know it. I don’t like to see potential wasted on some Bandosian brutes.

Jahaan bit his lip, and against his better judgement, mentioned, “But sir, the Temple Knights are a Saradominist militia. I’m not a Saradominist.”

Denulth rolled his eyes, leaning forward on the desk, which caused Jahaan to lean backwards out of instinct. “All the shit’s I give about what god you pray to could fit into a thimble, cadet. If Tiffy’s smart, he’ll have the same view when it comes to new recruits.”

He took his seal and stamped the red wax onto a signed letter. Even though the wax was still dripping, he handed it over to Jahaan and said, “You leave at sunrise. When you see him, tell Tiffy to send over some more recruits. Those damn White Knights won’t allow conscription, but we need the warm bodies at the front.”

“Yes sir,” Jahaan bowed as he took the letter, and hurried to exit the tent while his head was still attached to his shoulders.

DISCLAIMER:

As Of Gods and Men is a reimagining, retelling and reworking of the Sixth Age, a LOT of dialogue/characters/plotlines/etc. are pulled right from the game itself, and this belongs to Jagex.

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#runescape #fiction #fan fiction

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writingmask · 6 years

Text

Mealtime Reflection

A commission for the ever wonderful @stationoracle

General Rating

Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, Link & Zelda

792 Words

Archive of Our Own

The fire crackled comfortingly in the hearth, adding to the already homey feeling brought by the scent of the bubbling stew. Nearby, Link stood at the pot, stirring occasionally. It was far, far humbler than any meal Zelda had ever been a part of, and she couldn’t have been more thankful for it.

The light from the candles and the fire were dim, and if she were to turn to the window above the loft, she would see the last vestiges of day bleeding out from the sky. Link’s home-- house, he would correct, for a home required more than a day or two worth of living-- was comfortable. Cozy. Safe. Heat pricked at the corner of her eyes, and she found herself wiping away a tear. She sniffed with a shake of her head, and her companion turned to look at her with a question in his eyes.

“It’s nothing,” Zelda answered, smiling despite the tears. “I’m just… I’m so happy.”

Understanding softened Link’s face, and he nodded before returning his attention to the stew. He’d always been interested in food, but apparently having to survive on his own turned that interest into a culinary passion. If he weren’t the designated Champion, she had no doubt he’d have figured out how to open a restaurant somewhere.

Zelda smothered a grin at that mental image and returned to her task, though her thoughts still drifted. The journey from the ruins of her former home and years of imprisonment and war to Hateno Village had been something of a blur, but nothing could ever dull the sheer relief at seeing people, alive and thriving together. She knew that things had been hard for the past century, but they’d done it. They’d lived, formed communities. That made everything worth it. So Hyrule and its kingdom was at an end-- perhaps forever. But its people still lived on.

It was a blessing straight from Hylia. She wasn’t much of a sacred priestess anymore, but Zelda still found herself thanking the goddess during quiet moments. She also wasn’t much of a princess, but she still had a duty. After all, someone had to clean up the Calamity’s mess, and she wasn’t going force Link to bear that burden alone any longer.

Besides, she was one of the few near-experts of the ancients still remaining. In fact, she was almost an ancient herself!

A cough brought her wandering attention back to the small room. Link gestured to her carrots, and she handed him the board with the cuttings to be dropped into the soup.

“You’ve gotten quite good at that,” she remarked.

“Lots of practice,” Link signed back with a lazy grin. “And there’s no frogs in it.”

Zelda scoffed and mimed a blow at him. “I still say you should’ve tried it. I hear it’s a delicacy.”

“Not raw!” Link looked practically scandalized.

She stuck her tongue out at him and got up to set the table. A bit silly to do for just two people, but she’d never broken the habit of seeing a well-made arrangement for a meal. It was one of many habits that no longer quite fit for her new lifestyle. Zelda frowned, considering that.

“.... Link? Do you think, once we start travelling again… Do you think the people we meet will accept us?”

“Us?” A pale eyebrow rose quizzically.

Zelda made a face. “Fine. Me. A princess of a kingdom that doesn’t even exist.”

Link set the stewpot on the table and thought for a moment. “Well… You’re bossy, over-excited, a bit of a know-it-all--”

“Thank you very much, sir knight.”

The former champion grinned at her and pat the top of her head as he walked by. “They’ll like you just fine. You saved their lives, and you’re easy to like. You’ll be okay.”

Zelda sighed and shook her head. “I hope you’re right,” she said.

Link mimicked her sigh, somehow managing to sound just like one of her old tutors as he served the meal. “I know I’m right. Just wait until we reach the Zora Domain; some of them actually remember you.”

Zelda blinked as she took her first bite. That was true enough. The Zora lived longer than Hylians; surely there’d be some familiar faces. King Dorephan was a good friend of her father’s in particular. Something in her relaxed at that thought. Just because the world had changed didn’t mean it would be wholly different.

After all, the grass was still growing, the sky still rained, and fish still swam in the rivers. Change wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but Zelda would find her roots in the things she still knew. She could handle this new world, and Link would help. They could rebuild things. Together.

#kat writes #commission #legend of zelda #botw #link #zelda

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aleatoryalarmalligator · 7 years

Text

categorized and generalized all the types of tumblr aesthetics i have come across.

I have been going through archives for the last five years on tumblr now, and i can’t help but notice that a lot of blogs are the same. There seems to be a pattern in the sorts of aesthetics i run up against. So, in my exhaustion, i tried coming up with all the different aesthetics, and i tried to put them into certain categories. Obviously, some of these categories are mixed with others.

PORN TUMBLR

-general porn

-lesbian/gay general

-kinky stuff

-daddy dom stuff - tied up boobies

-bears

-just unrealistic nudes

-just realistic nudes

-vintage porn, and occasionally porn that is so old that it was drawn by someone in the 1800′s

- hentai and erotic animal people cartoon characters going at it

-person who took about five pictures of themselves naked five years ago who has not come back

RICH KID TUMBLR

-super modelesque kids in their super rich cool kid clothes and fashion in Starbucks taking pictures of their food and their trips to Europe in 1st class

- incredibly expensive looking sunglasses

-rich kid travel blogs with hundreds of thousands of notes of pictures from rich people buildings

-quotes that say 'be happy' or stuff about saying anyone can just travel anywhere at any time, just the general advice you might get from someone who doesn't know how the other half lives

- cats

VINTAGE TUMBLR

-the greatest generation stuff, forgotten early hollywood actors/actresses, very old movie gifs, Theda Bara, Clara Bow, Carol Lombard, early Joan Crawford, Gone with the Wind ect..

-50's, 60's and 70's, Nancy Sinatra, Brigitte Bardot, Marilyn Monroe, Audrey Hepburn – generally a lot of Audrey Hepburn

-Posts old advertisements and old cars, sometimes old toys, a few pinups, vintage comics, kinda weird

- vintage toy blogs - just toys, named and dated

-sometimes retrospace stuff

-sometimes just old comic book stuff

FEMINIST/ GENDER STUDIES TUMBLR

-intersectional feminists who post mostly text and back and forth writings, sometimes they fight

-radfems and turfs, unpopular minority of angry at the intersectional feminists

- Fat Acceptance movement, chubby bunnies

-other girl's selfies, lots of girl power related drawings of gender symbols and the like, Grimes, being a witch, Courtney Love, sailor moon, and so forth, sometimes bleeds into soft grunge

-topics on transgender, gender fluid and others that have informative

- asexual community

BLACK LIVES MATTER TUMBLR

-black lives matter awareness, police brutality, pointing out flaws in legal system

-lovely stylish selfies

-call outs of racism, lots of dialogue, and the extension of twitter

80's + 90's GIF TUMBLR

-like gifs of scratched up VCR obscure film openings, and repetitious obscure 80's gifs in general, everything is fuzzy and looks like it came from an 80' infomercial, kinda makes you feel scared

-90's gifs of Pee Wee Herman, Catdog, Clarissa Explains it All, Chucky Cheese, Fruit by the Foot, Beavus and Butthead, Bart Simpson, and so on

HIPPIE TUMBLR

-just like the rich kidz, only they have white kid dreads and post a lot of vanlife stuff, lots of festivals

-mostly psychedelic gifs, with occasional trippy art, Foster the People is their favorite band

-real hippies, who post pictures of communes and people making tyed dye things, nonsexual nudes with hairy women, Grateful Dead stuff

-Buddhist and Hindu quotes, sometimes lilies

SOFT GRUNGE TUMBLR

purple and pink skies, water, windows with lace

girls with pale skin and perfect make up, and chokers, bruises, sparkly skin

mermaid texture, mermaid hair colors

Lana Del Rey

kind of like 90's only more melty and pink

quotes about good vibes

Eternal Sunshine for the Spotless mind reference

moon print

dream pop bands from the early 90's

GROWN UP SOFT GRUNGE TUMBLR

picture of Uma Thurman overdosing in Pulp Fiction

lots and lots of flowers

lots of sensual pictures of pale skin under certain lighting

albino people

albino animals

pictures of sunrises

Reykjavic

kind of like the Soft Grunge, but just a little bit more subtle and film tumblry

ART BLOG TUMBLR

old roman art

chinese, japanese and korean art from long ago

renaissance and medieval art with religious context

just like medieval art of specifically torture

18th and 19th century portrait paintings

Scenic paintings of hills, Van Gogh, Toulouse-Lautrec, Monet

Dada, Pablo Picasso, Jackson Pollock, Salvador Dali, Andy Warhol, Adolph Wolfie

Modern art that is squiggly, slimy, and bizzare, breaks art rules but looks good, David Shrigley

Modern Surrealists

ARTIST BLOG TUMBLR

posts really great homemade gifs that nobody knows about infrequently

blogs that only have the artwork of the blog owner – generally post infrequently and not given enough credit ever, except maybe one of there works has a whole bunch of notes

person who keeps painting the same thing over and over again and does it a lot for years at a time, 0 notes usually – who are you??

collage artists that mix 50's scenes with hyperspace backdrops

FILM BLOG TUMBLR

-Stanley Kubrick, Jean Cocteau, lots of black and white french films

-that movie where the two people are sitting on the ledge of a building and the other one jumps off

Clockwork Orange

-Paris, Texas

David Lynch

Blue Velvet, Twin Peaks (gets stolen by other kinds of blogs frequently)

Wim Wenders,

Rare film art from Poland in the 70's

Jans Svankmajer

Man Ray, Max Ernst,

cool quotes by philosopher, artist, psychologist, or film director

Amelie

sometimes Wes Anderson

PHOTOGRAPHY TUMBLR

abandoned places, gas stations, archaic cafes, falling apart amusement parks

uses too much dark fade out in the background pictures of fields and stuff, overused filtering – posted a ton three years ago and then left

just photostock

girl who takes pictures of herself in costume

Nature pictures, animal pictures ect..

person who just takes pictures of textures and minimalist buildings – usually colorful

person who's personal Instagram picture just automatically post to tumblr also, probably never checks up, usually pictures of them with friends as a pub

Indigenous pictures from around the world, some of them from books, some from National Geographic, some from other places

Super old pictures from old newspapers, the great depression, WW2 – generally black and white

MUSIC TUMBLR

Really likes Led Zeppelin, The Doors and The Who, sometimes mixed with other vintage, often posts the same pictures and songs for years – you feel bad because no new music will be coming out from these artists

super cheesy Van Halen, Kiss, Styx, Ozzy person, Big Hair, likes 80's pin ups and skulls, sometimes into martial arts

super cheesy death metal fan, lots of pinups, corny black and white pictures of skulls and such

REALLY likes British Invasion, The Zombies, The Kinks, The Hollies, The Animals, will occasionally post Detroit girl groups from the 60's, some Velvet Underground, pictures of the Beatles girlfriends

Just David Bowie, Lou Reed, Patti Smith and Iggy Pop. Maybe some New York Dolls

Old Blues and Jazz, Etta James, Son House, Nina Simone, pictures of Leadbelly and Howlin' Wolf and especially Miles Davis

really into post punk, Nick Cave, Siouxsie, Bauhaus, The Cure, Einsturzende Neubauten, Lydia Lunch, PJ Harvey and Rowland S. Howard, sometimes Morrissey. also generally mixes film and art blog stuff in with occasional feminist things

Just Morrissey, they call him Moz.

Fan clubs for specific bands that are newer and popular like Arctic Monkeys or Fallout Boy, but also ones blogs that really like emo lyrics from early 2000's and such – scene kids that are still scenin' it up

loves Jens Lekman, Belle and Sebastian, The Magnetic Fields and The Pains of Being Pure at Heart, Cigarettes After Sex. Usually posts really cute modern art, and uses tumblr mostly for writing, has the cutest hair cut and can pull off overalls, never posts too little or too much, extremely twee

HISTORY TUMBLR

ancient mesopotamia, greek and Egyptian history and relics

Blogs that are specifically about one place in one era - Ancient Russia, Ireland before it was taken over, precolonial India and so on

Samurai, Geisha, and scrolls

Swords, knights, castles, kings of Europe in general

Specific Wars, examples: 7 Years War, Revolutionary War, WW1 + 2

France from before the revolution – pictures of wigged men, Napoleon, Marie Antoinette

Jane Austen time era anything 18th and 19th century, slight excuse to post lots of Pride and Prejudice gifs with Keira Knightly and that Mr. Darcy in the rain

Outfits – just outfits that are really old

person who is obsessed with the Nazis and seems to like Hitler

Flappers and earlier 20th – often an excuse to post gifs of Downton Abbey

Vintage books, often children books, but sometimes others

DESIGN TUMBLR

really fucked up pictures of the Simpsons melting and stuff

gradient graphic art with symbols or words meant to convey a product that I don't understand for an obscure magazine subscription

graphic squiggles without form, minimalist graphic pictures of beach balls, tennis bats, and sneakers

bizarre smiley faces made from smaller smiley faces

80's inspired design

odd looking models with undercuts and no eyebrows

cartoon dogs and cats

just static and glitches. Nothing more, nothing less

either they make their own graphic designs and they rarely post, or they compile reblogs of everyone else's and they post all the time

WEIRDO TUMBLR

insane family pictures of family who all has mullet dressed as bumble bees

Lots of Robert Crumb, some vintage stuff, but nothing remotely main stream

Some of the modern art, but only the weirdest of it

claymation masks

Comix

Moebius

art from early Power Point

100 piece sculptures with melted toys

paintings of monsters

Steve Brule

children's fan art of Smokey the Bear – looks disturbing

Items that are too kitschy to be accepted by your average vintage indie blog

sometimes a specific blog centered around some kind of crazy event where everyone dresses completely insane

POLITICAL TUMBLR

the communists and Marxists

a mixture of BLM and LGBTQ stuff

the libertarians, anarchocapitalists, Ayn rand folk

the left wing anarchists, freegans, graffiti punks, garden punks, possums

informative left wing news that explains to us everyday how the GOP is fucking us

alt. right creeps who are simply here to be trolls and upset everyone else – anti SJW, that stupid frog, nationalists, trump supporters and such – irrelevant poorly thought memes

I miss Obama memes

Bernie Sanders forever and always folk

RAINBOW TUMBLR

pictures of rainbow candies, toys, designs, clothing and so forth all of it rainbow

people who post one color at a time, so when you go through their archive it's all gradient and neat looking – usually the pictures are a little stock photoish though

HALLOWEEN TUMBLR

Betty Page

The Cramps. Reverend Horton Heat

Psychobilly pin ups, old cars, burning skulls, vintage B horror movies, The Swamp Thing

Legitimately obsessed with the activities of Halloween – posts witches, devils, trick or treat candy, Bella Lugosi, The Monster Mash, Halloween decoration - and doesn't ever forget how many days away Halloween is

Jack the Skeleton

Freddy Krueger

FANCLUB TUMBLR

Superwholock

Hannigram

American Horror Story

K Pop and J Pop + Korean Drama

boy bands in general

Hamilton

My Little Ponies

Ghibli Studios

Various anime shows

fat Disney princesses

Super heroes

Pokemon

Big Bang Theory

Mighty Boosh

Monty Python

Phantom of the Opera

Labyrinth

Vampire Chronicles

Orange is the New Black

Breaking Bad

Alice in Wonderland

Harry Potter

Star Wars

Steven Universe

Adventure Time

Game of Thrones and Walking Dead

any television show really

Furry cartoons

lots of spacy quick anime chibi versions of characters who are hooking up and wouldn't normally in the show

scenes from movies with subtext that comes from a different movie or show

probably countless others i am not thinking of.

SPECIALTY TUMBLR

serial killer blogs

unexplained mysteries, ghosts, ufo's

pictures of galaxies with information (not sparkly silly ones with no context)

sewing and yarn

precious stones

cars

just gardening

just cats

religious blogs, either Islam, Christian, Jewish, Hindu or Buddhist

specific animal blogs, snake, spiders, wild cats and such

science blogs about technology and stuff

NATURE TUMBLR

stock photoish pictures of camp grounds and misty mountains – often taken by the hippies

angelic looking deer, and occasional animal burials with flowers'

person who takes pictures of flowers all the time

granola type fellow who loves juicing and backpacking – doesn't get on tumblr much

BLACK AND WHITE GOTH TUMBLR

slenderman fan art, actually just about anything creepypasta related

you have to turn off the music when you visit their page because it's just too much

fan art of black eyed children

slit wrists

pictures that were turned into Gifs because they shake

taxidermy

screamo lyrics

Alice in wonderland with X's for eyes

gothic models

occasional serial killer

skulls and references to Edgar Allan Poe

GIF MEME TUMBLR

just a sea of Gifs and memes relating to anything about life ever – almost shitposting but not quite

eventually one of the gifs got 100,000 notes for it's relatability so they get a lot of traffic

lots of pictures and circumstances from The Office, Parks and Rec, and It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia

Nihilist memes

SOFTY TUMBLR

kind of a little girl dom thing going on

Kawai and lots of Japanese girls

cute colorful make up

plushies and toys

references to fantasy cartoons from the 80's, the last unicorn, or that one with the girls in that band

Polly Pockets, Furbies, trolls

gifs of stars and hearts

Sailor Moon

pink bedroom

baby animals

occasionally more on the vintage kitschy side

WICCA TUMBLR

ravens, bats, candles

pentacles and other symbols

crystals

sometimes there is dreads

occasionally, it is a serious practicing Wicca who posts spells and gives witch advice

lots of personal reflections

boobs

GROSS TUMBLR

Tim and Eric, Steve Brule centered blog that are mostly in the act to make you feel queezy

like, people eating cheerios with ketchup and people wearing shoes with the soles cut out, people putting their feet in spagetti, bad tattoos on foreheads

snails, beetles, bird doing mean things to people

mostly moldy things, moss, strange dolls

things that look like they came from the dark crystal,

delapitating bedrooms that once belonged to a little girl, torn wall paper, old porcelain dolls that are slightly upsetting

Clowns

occasionally a blog so gross you will be ruined for having seen it – Two Girls one Cup sort of thing

NERD TUMBLR

old video game start up pages

Super Mario Bros.

Other video game characters

chibis of video game characters interacting with one another

Final Fantasy references

randomly doesn't post for a year

SELF HELP TUMBLR

blog that gives dumb advice that only works if you were already happy anyway

either semi fake or oversimplified 'psyche facts'

blogs from people who suffer from addiction or mental illness and want help and use their blog to vent

blogs ran by people who enjoy crystal meth and don’t give a fuck.

worthy of mentioning, blogs that nobody ever posted a single thing or just one thing, like, really cryptic blogs that nobody could ever understand, blogs that were taken over by some kind of virus and they are trying to sell you male pattern baldness remedies, or they are now call absurdly pornographic things because the virus took over and now they are like blonde cumfuck creampie or something of that nature, and blogs were the person was basically saying they have found a girlfriend/boyfriend now and don’t need tumblr anymore so goodbye

and in my experience ...

anybody can post pictures of jiggly boobs

anybody can post Grace Jones

anybody can post a Bjork song

these seem to be universal truths that defy limitations

#text

593 notes · View notes

glopratchet · 4 years

Text

retirement-home

Enter a prompt that describes who you are and the first couple sentences of where you start out ex: 'You are a knight in the kingdom of Larion You are hunting the evil dragon who has been terrorizing the kingdom You enter the forest searching for the dragon and see' Undergrowth seeking shelter from the rain Lightpoles in the distance A single tree, surrounded by a forest of vines and roots It's an interesting sight to see Construction signs around Someone is building something Green-skinned bodyguards standing around, dressed in overly decorative clothing Good thing you don't stand out! Security cameras watching from all directions Here's a fun one Bandages and slings They're provided by the museum, to make you look like a real victim when you inevitably seek medical attention Vaccine kit In the case of biological attack, break seal and shake Reinforced glass protecting artifacts too delicate to be placed elsewhere during the renovations Shocktroops walking through Should you attempt to blend in with them? Your team has arrived at the museum Pharmaceuticals of various types, all collected from the ruins of the old world Dinosaur fossils and skeletons High-roller 's suite You could probably find use for it Snowglobes from many different places Lizards preserved in glass Highly poisonous specimens Sign says: "Don't touch! " Of course, you won't listen Gorazel 's goblet Gorazel is a stereotypical "bad guy" from a story somewhere No idea what story, but it must've been a good one Cyber-surgeon waiting room It would appear that collecting implants is a very common hobby nowadays Medical equipment from the old world Agent walking around, providing first aid Can't let the troops die, in case you need a replacement later Tricky to acquire the vaccine kit Borders Perhaps you've read these tales and not even known it Medieval inspired stories Laboratory equipment Security checkpoint Agent stretching in his room, before getting on the next transport to the Antique Shop Security camera's power source Blood testing supplies for all manner of parasites Vodka bar? You don't remember that one Medical equipment There's an idea Agent caregiving for an old wound on his arm, which should heal eventually Dog mask Someone once said you were a hero to them once Attempting to crack the hard stuff Agent cheese-making Cat mask Mentions something about a traitor You'll remember it later Might be an important detail Agent roving the halls wearing a rat mask But no one is around (For now You don't think you're being watched Cyclone infestation? Mold problem? Thank god the cleaner squad patrols this area Seeds from all across the land Agent well-being tech Something to do with mental health Traitor alert The cheerful beeping slowly fades into your mind An incinerator for disposing of bodies, and other smaller things Nurse's station Unfortunately, the doctors have left for the day Surgery in session Apparently, someone grew mold on the outer walls Repetitive and thankless work, probably Hairstylist's shop Agent landscaping Ultimately, it will break down one day, just like everything else his body Agent mistreating Agent diagnosing sick person, needs treatment quick But wait, he's administering the medication himself Strange Antique shop? Seems to sell mostly exotics pet cat Agent stroking Several birds stuffed and put on display Slave-training facilities exist alongside gladiator fighting rings Agent portraying a beaver skull What's going on? A collection of archiving, and strangely, taxidermy a Human-Carbiner war memorial Agent evoking Zoo remains and the taxidermists an old road Homeworld archival information, kept safe inside computers even in this day and age Agent photographing A small library Agent joking around with friends while drinking Someone made a dog-house for his little sidekick You can't help but laugh his pet Agent brushing Trading post Trader with a small-scale operation, mostly limited to exotics and in rarely, other useful things Sundowning See above Smugglers, black market arms dealers and the like Shady deals done in the dark Sanitation and waste treatment Laboratory, not as advanced as the ones in the museum On the upper floors Living quarters and office space for rent statue, simply too large to send somewhere else Colossus Water pump and giant cogs Perhaps a weapon or tool could be made here? Something had been done here before the war Community-dwelling This is where it all began The smell hits your nostrils from the off lived up here once upon a time Muckety-mucks Mercenaries located here, the closest thing to law in this cesspit of crime ceremony of some sort With the expansion of this place, it was inevitable Ribbon-cutting Maybe YOU were involved in building it back in the day? Balloons await their inhabitants, releasing them into the sky Penitentiary Just the place for dangerous criminals unable to be executed, for whatever reason center Cat litter boxes, pet food for the masses Laboratory It has a sophisticated; ) feel to it Grooming Besides Especially with the compound If some shady deals happen to occur now and then, that's to be expected Bartenders lounge and lodge Kitchen and enfilade Laboratory which figures prominently in illegal operations Something about mountains of plastic on hand place Eating Intake leading to the underworld of slums and sewers Meking? Makes a lot of sense with the right market with an ancient vibe Whisky-joint Reminds you of a old flame Lounge Dwelling Dormitory Garage and residential space for mechanics Gangs must have a nice collection of rides Probably at the docks Sodbuster diner Gambling den Personal dwellings fit snugly into the walls Spaceport, pretty active compared to the rest of the vast city Mini-chainsaw from an old toolset Those merc guys sure know how to live life, even if it is on the edge ian kantele, a rare find! Home-brewed alcohol Astryl Toothpaste Can't you just buy that anywhere? Soldier's kit Ancient photo of sleazy dude surrounded by women much younger of a stadium, decades beyond repair Shambles Poor Isabella, her business was in this building before the war Sprinklers are still fully operational daycare and kindergarten, because the future always arrives no matter what Wet-nurse A tour company with trips around the lower floors! mundane propaganda to hippies looking for meaning Chatters Ghetto hospital People are poor and with that comes health issues It's the harsh reality leading to plazas Passageways People had taken to creating their own underground roads, following the natural layout of streets long since collapsed booths of a bygone museum, filled with random trinkets and oddities in jars Curator Alley there certainly was a character Admission Weakness-magnets operating in carnival-like settings Point to point transportation via cable cars On the outside windows, ads for stores selling exorbitant prices dwelling and an isolated grove of trees Natural reservoir supplying the entire warrens Another eerily silent place Homelike pills, packed like sardines and smelling like last week's fishsticks Stepping stones across the small lake Cafffeine here to help with the oldest of old folk Gerontologist Religious headquarters It seems fairly accepting of beliefs, too Tumblebleeds mini-tournament Candy house Can't be any worse than the hospital cafeteria crystals, quality research materials, for a steep price Cognizance Opinions are mixed on whether they are worth it The gang leaders all have themed cells! of wind occasionally blow through the empty corridors Such an ominous sound Gusts Life-prolonging machines, connected to dozens of bodies Wasteland junkyard just out of the blast radius of the initial collapse Surgeries are performed, extractions in particular NecroSurge is filled with such dark magic Apex bunks, naturally are a lot different after the Adjustment No more leagues, no more humanity-wide competitions to see who has the better team Sports league is all that remains of the National Association Mousehole Rotations are 24-man squads competing every ten days is possible, but limited to in-between matches Resurrection You still gather around to see who played best and compete for bragging rights Tom has been playing in every competition as of late, and is the current top goal scorer with 58 end-of-rotation victories under his belt Harmonica is a close second at 50 Mattresses Old Man Parish comes in at 48, with you in third at a close 45 has suffered from endless rotations in the mines and has the worst record at 23 Booty Lack of spectator interest means you sometimes get to sit in the stands for free! Rusted-out Chicago Stadium still hosts the rotations Field is next in the rotation, and it has the best playing lights Phosphorus Floor is last for good reason: main defense turrets look like they pack a hell of a punch Which rotation position do you go for? Automaton High stadium On an elevated deck jutting out from beyond the penalty boxes, you position yourself high enough to get a good view of the playing field Megalomaniac bowl Stadium's notorious for fierce and brutal competition, which was allowed to slide under the radar for some time Dust ' coach Bunsby admitted using bombers as a selling point to earn more wins Patriots Then public outcry made it a hot topic junkies and "purists" still flock here Adrenaline have to walk the furthest, trying to tackle bombers to prevent them from reaching the other team's base Conquistadors Gucks uses a lot of tire spikes Gangrenous Hangnails does a lot of biting handles a lot of knives Jalapenos use acid bombs Faucet (Saffron-cloaked psyker Warseer) uses lightning bolts from his fingertips Prophecy lets Precognition evade opponents with his ability to teleport short distances Triangulation You wonder if there might be a snitch in the crowd leads intense, charismatic stadium chants to bewilder the opposition The plays seem overwhelming and dizzying Preachings Soapbox stands on a soapbox outside the stadium and holds the entire stadium Tyranid players inside with nothing but an amplified voice voids the effects of all stun bombs ; (temporary or permanent) thrown at him Moisture Sermons gives inspiring speeches to players, filling them with conviction and zeal until they are nigh-unstoppable on the playing field is used to sabotage one ; (and only one) permanent trait or ability on an opposing player Lobotomize Decide now Delivery A permanent contract is a big deal Toothbrushes gives inspirational speeches before each match, giving a general influx of confidence to the rest of the team You are leading by example Diamonds have their best hands covered in an impenetrable layer of super- resin, courtesy of Doc is permanently covered in super-resin thanks to Doc He still can feel pain, but he ignores it-- a test subject for withstanding great bodily harm Talisman used Doc's tinkering to add extensions of his major organs outside of his body, giving him a secondary defense should anyone get by his traps Stinky sleeps in an anti-toxin suit with as many anti-toxins coursing through her body at all times, Insecticide Oozes ' armor twists and churns like an abyssal vortex when it surrounds him His impenetrability comes from a true defense rather than enhanced speed sleeps most of the time to avoid conflict, while catching up on all of the important "events" via various newspapers he has his team rotate between Newspapers Diplomats are articulate, rational speakers that argue the justice and morality of breaking contracts Others see them as giant pansies are the leaders among the gladiators, training hard in the arena before large matches to get themselves accustomed to the bloody mayhem that will surely come Jocks sends the strongest ; (and smartest) among the team to fill the role of enforcer/bodyguard Eskiminzins augments the team's best physique ; (and intelligence) with the deriving from that Physique Garden-variety has entire team comes prepared with small batons Chemicals have entire team come prepared with equipment for concoction of mixtures and other drugs Resurrection sends a zealous Necromancer to revive any casualties suffered send out a different themed team for every match Designers sends a team focused on targeting the major/vital organs Anatomy send out a horde of vermine and bugs to trouble the enemy Populations Neuroscience focuses on messing the enemy's head Coffee has his team come prepared with all types of stimulants from fine Arabyan coffee to chems created in a back alleyian lab have explosive acid spitters, and acidic touch Hoppers Lasers have beam weapons that come in different colors, rendering glancing hits mute have a larger-than-normal liver and super-charged metabolism, regening from otherwise harmful attacks Livers has heavy stubber-grade weapons but not enough training to aim properly Nobility Sequins have insanely good reflexes and fast hands, drawing out otherwise quick deaths Vicinity has the entire team come prepared with signal jammers, disorienting their enemies Psionics has the entire team come prepared with psionic abilities has the entire team come prepared, geared with al natural vitamins and nutrients Vitamins Scorpions (nickname for the people to come in) each come prepared with not one or two, but three poision attacks have a hardened exterior and soft interior, playing on each side of an attack to come out on top in most conflicts Watermelons has no weapons to speak of, relying on cunning and treachery to be victorious Dumpster Bravado relies on intimidating others by using the biggest guns, most giant men and loudest speakers Coons use the element of surprise and attempt to blend in Dune Once fooling others they dispense a fine-tuned killing method has weaved a secondary defense layer over their clothes in case their gun was taken, or lost Apocalypse-weave has their team clean all weapons before an attack, granting extra stopping power and accuracy Spit-and-polish have no long-range weapons or aim, but their prowess with close combat weapons is unparalleled Super-soldiers Teetotaler has a given team member extra long life by injecting them with esotheric drugs and potions has a given team member control animals with just a wave of the hand Zoologist has a given team member control a small lizard Thieves have a given team member control security cameras and robot to do their bidding Lizard-on-a-stick Endoskeleton has a given team member who is cybernetically connected to their tools, using their powers for etheir pure destruction or subtlety Phenotype has a given team member jacked into machinery, controlling security systems and granted direct access everywhere has a given team member, with a cybernetic limb that when smoked manifests the pseduo-power of an Acid spitting cobra Moreauvian lest one fall into an underground stream or aquaduct that run beneath it When it comes to entering the earth on must do it very precisly lest one entangle their wings in high-tension wires, antennae, or plumbing chャymes that dwell alongside the streets beνyond You need to enter the air at a precise speed and angle Too fast and your momentum will carry you through the water portal, too steep and you risk a dangerous impact If you return too fast or too steeply bad things will happen again If impact is to shallow then back you go back into space to be frozen The three requirements deceleration heating accuracy of landing or impact You need a precise angle of re-entry into the atmosphere lest you burn up in your attempt to land shell You will need to float the egg in some liquid so you will need to find some liquid that is the same as egg If the egg "pops" you need to start this process all over again making it more likely to break The container will need to be rigid to make sure that the walls do not flex or the egg could bang on the walls Franklin X-90 propellers are your most efficient choice The first flight test is completed with a high rate of success The second flight test is completed with a high rate of success Here's to the aerospace industry developing supersonic commercial flights It will seem at first that your wings are failing as the upward wind will go from generally helpful to downright treacherous be careful and follow procedure!

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icyonice · 7 months

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Ok so hear me out, Medieval/Knight AU for Rain Code #1

-Yuma is a trainee knight

-Shinigami is a witch who can turn into small animals like cats

-Halara is a mercenary

-Desuhiko is a merchant and son of a famous merchant

-Fubuki is the princess

-Vivia is the royal family consultant

-Yakou is the knight squad captain

I will go more in depth with these characters roles later if needed and I have more ideas but this is all I will share for now. You can ask me questions about this AU and I will answer them to the best of my ability and my answers may change! Of course I’ll sneak some Clockmare and maybe Viviyakou in this AU but this is just a post of what roles each character would have in this AU

To see my other Rain Code Medieval/Knight AU posts look here 👇

1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9

#rain code #knight au #medieval au #master detective archives: rain code #mdarc #raincode #yuma kokohead #shinigami #halara nightmare #desuhiko thunderbolt #fubuki clockford #vivia twilight #yakou furio #clockmare #viviyakou #I think too much about this game #Ancient Knight Archives: Rain War

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ao3feed-mythology · 4 years

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Pomegranate Flowers

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2On7AEq

by amarettobronislaw

Rey loved the spring.

Rey's life was about to change. Her simple life on the outskirts of Jakku was over as she is plunged into a world of decadence, politics, desire, and danger.

All that she had ever known was to be rewritten; the truth of the Empire she once believed in is to be shattered. And amongst it all, his eyes remain.

Words: 1568, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Ancient Greek Religion & Lore

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M, F/F

Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Reylo

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2On7AEq

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inert-pen-maid · 5 years

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The words volunteered themselves, as though they were not his. “You’re not alone.”

He allowed the martyred echoes of his voice to tread the unguessable wilds between them, like a rowboat dislodged out onto open water. He waited. Ren had told himself its purpose and his interest was scholarly; even the wisest practicer remained a student of the Force in some way, after all. But there was selfishness in it too, he acknowledged with chagrin. And he had gone to great lengths to disguise this from Snoke.

Ren cursed himself. There were times that this undisturbed place that they had found for themselves within the Force felt as though it was simply that; as though the stepping stones to it were footwells that only they could fill. But now a mass formed in his throat. Who could say that his efforts of discretion had not been wasted? Who could tell that the no man’s land between them was not being enjoyed from crossways the Galaxy, exposed to supervisory eyes? Snoke doubted him. He certainly had enemies in the circles of the elite. Enemies that would take great pleasure in decommissioning the reputation he had built upon the bodies of countless. The Knights of Ren, his trustedbrethren. That bastard, Hux.

Jedi Killer , he had even earned the honour.

But those were Kylo Ren’s great accomplishments, not Ben Solo’s.

In the beginning, they had both been prolifically inventive with ways to maim the connection. They had shot at, pricked, pierced and torched it. It proved indestructible.

Her reply shivered across the interface. “Neither are you.”

He had not expected that. He stifled his intrigue.

Besides the pulsating of firelight, any detail in the scavenger’s surroundings was unintelligible. The peripheries contorted as though round the rim of a spyglass, but inside the glowing kaleidoscope was the sharp and familiar image of her . As she drew a waterlogged rag to her chest, Ren thought he noticed the flicker of her heart - right there, at the opening of her vest. The distance between them was boundless, but he sensed her life’s blood, the kicking, thrashing adrenaline in her veins, as intimately as a papercut.

She is afraid of me. But he knew that. He was used to that. Afraid of what I know, of how much to tell me.

He wondered what his body betrayed to her.

Rey wet her lips. “It’s not too late.”

Ignoring the impulse to delay there, he hoisted his gaze. Those thoughts were useless. In the end, it would always come down to this - Light and Dark.

“You’re new to this ancient order,” Ren delivered the truth softly. “Eager to impress yourself upon its legacy. I remember that...that hunger. I understand it -”

“No -”

“ Yes ,” he said. “It’s not all it seems; the Force, the Sith, the Jedi. What has any of it shown you? Nothing. Since the day we met, I knew…” he did not know what he knew. “This life could never make you happy. Rey. Spare yourself a lifetime of disappointment.”

“Like yours, you mean?” She swatted the air. “Leia would despair to hear you speak. What about hope?”

The mention of his mother stalled him, to his irritation. To hear it was something like pain; something that years of training should have relieved. Cheap trick. A smart girl. He took an affected pause. “Hope is as useful as luck. What’s the use in hope, when you’re staring down the barrel of a blaster, Rey? The Resistance cannot hope to last another month. You know it. They know it. Leia best of all. You don’t have the artillery, the fuel, the funding: we outnumber you man to man. The Resistance’s only asset is you . Your power. Your talent. But you’re young and you don’t know what to do with it. So you make the wrong choices.” He had said too much. Ren regained himself. “Han Solo indulged in luck. Look where it got him. Don’t repeat a fool’s mistake.”

Rey’s micro-expression of disgust was not lost on him. “You don’t mean that.”

“Do you know it?” Kylo Ren forced himself to smile. “Or do you hope ?”

That should have done it. He had half-expected to find himself alone in his quarters, then, but nothing changed.

Instead, the girl scrutinised him. A rope of tangled black hair slipped free, clinging to the crease of her lower lip. There was a muted squeal of leather, and he realised his fists ached. He released at once. The leather exhaled as he flexed and unflexed his fingers. This was not what he had planned.

“What do you want from me, anyway?” he snapped. “Every time I turn around, there you are. I find myself alone, you’re there.”

“I’m not doing this, remember? The effort would kill me .” A pause. “You talk about a lifetime of disappointment. But you can’t be older than - I don’t know - thirty?”

“ Almost , scavenger.” He briefly thought of Chandrila, and the astral metropolis that was the place of his birth. It was likely Rey had never seen a city. “So we’re swapping childhood anecdotes, now, are we? Hideouts and broken bones? I’ve had plenty of them. No thanks to you.” Ren gestured.

Rey regarded her handiwork. “That night, I heard the voice of the Dark side. How can you love such a thing so evil?”

“It’s not a question of love.” He stiffened. “And to a beetle, a boot is evil. To a man, a boot is necessary.”

“It told me to kill you.”

That fascinated him. “And did you want to?”

“I -”

“Don’t lie to me, Rey.”

The girl seemed to shrink.

Ren shrugged. “It called. You answered. We do what we must to succeed.”

“ No . I could never…” she fussed with her shawl. “I am sorry."

There was nothing grand about this girl, that was true - and yet everything about her had mystified him from the first; even begrimed, her threadbare training rags crisping by the heat of the pitfire beside them. No matter the circumstance, she mystified him. Prickling in his own robes, Ren mopped his brow.

He flinched with disbelief. Impossible.

Suddenly, the crudely assembled structure of a stone hut divulged itself to him. The cool ventilation of his own quarters had vanished. Could he smell the moss on the slick stones, hear the percussion of rain wriggling over the modest shelter, or was he imagining it? He wanted to leap to his feet and circumnavigate the place, to confirm its reality. Instead he stayed deathly still. He did not trust Rey enough to share his revelation. He admired her enough to fear what she might do.

Salt hit the eaves of his mouth. The sea. So this is Skywalker’s island, he thought. He shoved aside the terrible obligation to fulfil his destiny.

“I don’t want your apologies,” was all he could manage.

What do you want, then? A voice nudged. He looked at the girl.

She was so close, so... authentic.

And they were not alone. Something neither Dark nor Light had followed him to this place. Ren had intermittently smothered and disregarded it all his adolescence, and Snoke’s rigorous training had reserved little opportunity for action. But it was here with him now, with no cause for restraint.

In his high rank, he had always been careful about who he went to bed with. His guard had slipped only a handful of times, in corners of the Galaxy that would not incriminate another ordinary face.

“Your life is not over,” Rey continued. “You’re not bound to Snoke. Leave him. Leave that place.”

He choked a laugh. “To be sure. Why don’t you leave behind your arm, or your leg, while I’m at it?”

“Now you’re being be an arse.”

“I’m not being an ass, I’m telling you the truth.” He willed her to understand. But how could expect her to? Young, naive, inexperienced. Her prejudice against the Dark was impenetrable as a jungle, dense and complex and unforgiving. A victim of Luke’s censored education. She could never understand. But he had to try and make her.

He heard himself speak. Like caroming downhill, once he had started he could not stop:

“My earliest memory of Snoke is from when I was five years old. Five . They say his influence began with the foetus living in Leia’s womb, but how could I possibly remember that to tell you?” He absorbed himself in the fire, dreading to look up and find himself alone again, the miraculous transmission cut short. “I clearly remember standing by a river. I don’t know where my governess was - distracted, maybe, probably. Just another day that Han and Leia were too important for.

“The river bid me to drown myself.” He could still hear the belch of the water, the call to the riverbed. “I resisted. I challenged. I wanted to live. And that small show of defiance saved my life. Convinced Snoke that I could be of greater use than a bloated corpse belly-up in the water...” He side-glanced, shifting uncomfortably. “He was testing me. Don’t you see? I owe him all I am.”

“Not all,” Rey said softly. “There’s good in you, still. I sense it.”

He ignored that. “To apprentice with Supreme Leader Snoke is the highest privilege.”

“Snoke’s apprentice or not. I feel the conflict in you. Ben - you’re powerful and talented. You have only made the wrong choices .”

He grimaced. “Something tells me your precious Resistance won’t see it that way.”

A pale, slender hand took his and squeezed. “ I see it that way.”

The crackling interstice between them seemed to surge and short-circuit all at once. Suddenly, its barbed perimeters were gone. He had felt the seismic sparks ricochet from every synapse, between every cell in his body; but now there was quiet and sense, and in the panoramic of all existence he could feel only her . Ren gawked at their hands. It was impossible, but here they were. After a moment, he braved a tentative graze of the thumb. Her knuckle was scabbed with blood. He was still wearing gloves.

Understanding felled him. He blinked - hard. “How long have you known?”

Even through his leathers, he registered her shaking. “I didn’t. I thought...I - guessed…” the loathing face that he had encountered in the forest was gone, streaked with emotion. “Ben. You cast a shadow.”

He turned. The hut seemed to expand in the light like a diaphragm, and the amorphous shape undulating against the convex stone writhed, became two shadows, then one. He did not remember standing. He did not question it. At this moment, he did not want to question anything.

And she had not yet pulled away.

Was she worth your while? He imagined his master would purr later, when he was inevitably summoned to the throne room for review. The contents of his apprentice’s mind would greatly interest Snoke tonight. Was the pleasure of a squealing waif a fair trade for all your glorious potential in the Dark?

Kylo Ren decided it was.

“Take off my gloves,” he said.

#reylo fanfic #reylo trash #reylo #reylo fandom #rey x kylo ren #ben solo #ben x rey

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