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tinfoilstork · 6 years

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Upon further reflection (at 3am), I'm of two minds about Azshara and N'Zoth. And although I'm firmly in the Light of Lights fan club and think the video was everything good and wholesome in life, something is off.

On the one hand, Azshara is the epitome of perfection. She's power and grace given form, that's a given. The ultimate ruler, her subjects are utterly devoted, love her without question and practically worship her as a deity. She, a mortal and self-made empress of the planet's still after-ten-millennia unrivaled magically advanced civilization and remains unquestioned most powerful mage in history, who was *this close* to partnering up as equals with Sargeras, a planet-stomping Titan and who was more or less the WoW equivalent to Satan himself, ruler of an unfathomably large and powerful army of magical immortal soldiers carving a swath across the cosmos, because she didn't want to hook up with an inferior, before her own personal hubris (and those meddling kids) almost cracked the planet in half, has been in the hearts and minds of people just as strongly back then as now and throughout history. Azeroth's history, colorful as it is, is due entirely to her ministrations. Without her there'd be no Legion presence, and thus no orcs, no Lich King, and quite possibly no need for reorigination (or maybe it still would have, and met little resistance). It'd be trolls vs whatever other beastly race walked by them that day. There would be no kaldorei empire, poor Elune would have none of her glorious warriors who embody the goddess' strength and grace -- they'd be pretty but untested, untempered. The world, and the game, would be soft and dumb and boring as fuck without her. Sure, someone(s) might try to fill the power vacuum, if one even developed, but it wouldn't be comparable even if so. She is the indomitable spirit, and woe to anyone who challenges her.

But if N'Zoth had indeed been watching her, observing her, studying her and the decisions she makes and the whos and the whats and the whys for the last thousand years, surely he understood how ambitious and powerful she is, how savvy she is in getting what she wants and staying on top, her motives and goals and mannerisms and her very well-earned pride.

Was he playing to that? Was he faking that gaff? Was his outrage at being out-maneuvered all a show? Did he spot the opportunity in the world's most powerful being, moments from death, the chance to collect her as a pawn by making it seem like her idea?

The thing is, we don't (yet) know about the Shadow Lords. Old "Gods" might be a misnomer, given their place on the magic hierarchy chart; they're equivalent to the equally mislabeled Wild Gods like Malorne and Yu'lon, with higher-ups pulling the strings, if we take everything as equal in placement per section / as personifications of the concepts therein. (Which off the bat is not accurate, keep that in mind)

The Old Gods have been bested on Azeroth quite often before by we players and NPC mortals, and also easily by the Titans (see Y'Shaarj for a case of all of the above). Wild Gods can and have fallen at the hands of demons and we adventures alike. Hell, the craziness of the last raid tier of Legion threw all this perspective into chaos. To scale back, Manneroth knew better than to try to toy with Azshara; she's like 6 and a half feet of mortal in a white fabric dress and gold bangles vs his 30some in felforged plate and steel. Nothing of note on the surface, but he could sense her power and knew it at least rivaled that of Archimonde, so he didn't poke the bear. That said, her power of persuasion was a force of nature in and of itself, seeing as how she gained similar devotion of the Burning Legion ranks over the demons' own superiors. People alwayd have and do still adore her, plain and simple, and can and have gladly thrown their lives away on her whim.

Now whether or not she was *actually* on equal footing with Sargeras himself has been up for debate since its inception. If so, and his status as bigger and badder than the rest of the Titan pantheon is true, she so vastly outclassed N'Zoth it's not even funny and the video should absolutely be taken at face value that she told an Old God to suck her dick and he got on his knees right then and there.

But if not, and there are forces working behind the scenes guiding events millennia the making, ever patient, waiting for the right moment, seeping into the hearts and minds and peering into the soul, grasping, changing, pulling and pushing and reshaping, bending reality itself to their will, and its claws needed to dig into her while she was at her most vulnerable, after the insanity that was the War of the Ancients and the catastrophe of the Sundering, seconds from death, that's still nothing to snub at. N'Zoth needed to have her hanging by a thread to even have a chat, and she still told him to go pound sand for the insulting offer, that she'd rather die to spite him than cowtow. Free will will always be a radical variable, and if he didn't play his cards right he'd be exactly as she said: alone, trapped, a god of nothing, ruler of no one, a utter waste of space. That she picked up on this so swiftly and so completely must have confirmed N'Zoth's observations (or fears, depending on the underlying force). Bruised ego aside, it would indeed be sloppy to not have had every imaginable scenario accounted for in order to get someone like Azshara to bat for your team, especially if she had other things in mind.

And if that is the case, I personally am very much looking forward to agreeing to joint forces and take down the Shadow Lords with her sometime in the future. There is no way she'll go out as a farmable loot pinata, no way. She's the mightiest single force Azeroth has ever seen (and she knows it). We can't kill her. We're insects. We're motes of dust. We'd be lucky to be one-shotted by simply raising arms against her. That, and Illidan, arguably a close second to her in power, is busy with Sargeras. We can't kill her, we need her to fight to save reality from Shadow.

#it's now 425 #long live the queen #she will always come out on top #that's what she does

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aeternallis · 7 years

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Title: Of Alter Egos and Personas

Series: Yuri!!! on Ice Pairing: Nikiforov Viktor x Katsuki Yuuri Rating: T Summary: 'Eros only exists on the ice; outside of it, merely a figment of their imagination.'

Yuuri finds out the hard way that the fallibility of his relationship with Viktor is, perilously, but one step behind his happiness and contentment.

Post!series / One-shot / Character introspection

AO3

After a time, you may find that having is not so pleasing a thing after all, as wanting. It is not logical, but it is often true.' - Spock (Star Trek)

A couple of blocks from the Fontanka River is a handsome apartment complex that Yuuri has had his eye on for a while. The units were clean and newly renovated with polished, mahogany flooring and model heaters, a full kitchen and living room, as well as a washing machine and dryer. The rent was about 67,000 rubles every month, including all utilities, with the exception of internet. Pets were allowed, and there was a huge park right next to it where Makkachin could run around and get his daily exercise.

It wasn't too far from Viktor's home rink, and along the way, there were a lot of restaurants and eateries that Yuuri was particularly curious to try. There was also a bus stop nearby, as well as a gym, which would especially be useful for when the winter months descend on them, and he won't be able to jog outside due to the danger of slipping on black ice.

All in all, it was the perfect place for him and Viktor.

Taking a sip of his coffee, he scrolled through his phone to see the various screenshots of the available rooms, his eyes thoughtful. The living room was spacious, and the kitchen came with a new refrigerator and working stove, he observed, his mouth stretching in an uneasy smile. The bedroom window had a wonderful view of the area; the Yuletide lights will look marvelous, once they lit up the night. He couldn't ask for a better deal than this, wouldn't know if he could even find one anywhere else.

His gaze became unreadable for a moment, before he abruptly looked away from the phone, staring at the large fountain in front of him instead.

There weren't that many people in the park today, the light caress of the wind playing with his hair as he took in the scenery with heartfelt appreciation. It was September, and the leaves on the trees displayed a brilliant, orange color, and the scent of wet grass after a hearty rainfall made the landscape look like a sort of faerieland, the way the moisture made the greenery shimmer and twinkle. It was quiet, with only the birds and occasional squirrels darting about, a passerby periodically walking past him nonchalantly.

If he could, he wouldn't have minded staying in this place for awhile longer, breathing in the clean air, drifting off to sleep in soothing unconsciousness, surrounded by greenery.

It was a timely distraction, one he was utterly grateful for, if only for a moment, a chance for his mind to wander away from the grueling muck of his thoughts while his thumb hovered over his phone, unable to scroll any further, his fingers lightly shaking in apprehension, building up since the idea first presented itself. He took off his glasses and set them to the side, leaning back against the bench as he took a deep breath, lifting his head towards the drifting clouds while his eyes darkened with unease, his heart pounding in his chest.

The coffee in his hand forgotten, he dazedly placed it to the side right next to his glasses, biting his lip in contemplation.

He couldn't help but chuckle, a hint of cynicism coating his voice. Leave it to him to tarnish the admiration he'd felt; maybe tomorrow, he could actually enjoy walking around the park without getting too dramatic. But he's been pushing it off for too long now, denying himself, as he had always done, the time to mull over it, to turn the subject inside his head this way and that, inspecting every facet of the intention until he's divulged into any and all possibilities, covering all his bases. Thinking about it now, facing the truth was never the hard part, but what came after it.

It wasn't that he didn't want to live with Viktor, because on the contrary, he's never been so sure of anything else in his life, at least that's what he believed, but this. The conviction laid inside his stomach like a dead weight, sure of its place. Nevertheless, the reality was never so simple, and it's not a matter of wanting or not wanting, not anymore...or if it was ever even like that in the first place.

But it would be ridiculously cruel to himself, and though it may not be worth mentioning, to this lovely park as well, should he choose now of all times to lie to himself, the question burning in his mind, as if it were searing itself to the very confines of his memory, unable to outrun the words, glowing like a funeral pyre while he ran for his life inside his brain.

Could he live with Viktor? Does he have the strength and patience to do it?

For all the love he felt towards the man...for all the admiration and esteem and respect and reverence he felt for him...for the many years he spent idolizing him like a god, though he had always known to himself that he would eventually question whether he loved the figure on the posters more or the imperfection of him, for all of those things...could he do it?

Without warning, a dam burst inside of him, the flood waters rushing in to fill his lungs to the brim.

Viktor was lazy half the time, relying on Yuuri to make all their meals. He never takes out the garbage or cleans the bathroom, or sweeps the floors. His tastes were inexplicably grandiose, too much for him to take at times. He lived like a blockbuster celebrity, the paparazzi always hot on his trails like little chicks. He was often a tad bit too forward on those occasions when professionalism was more appropriate, and he had an annoying tendency to spout out private details about their life together to the media.

When he was drunk, he tended to fall asleep loudly, snoring the night away, which would often keep him up all night. His whining was incessant when he would catch him in a foul mood, which happened rarely, but when it does happen...

He was mercilessly blunt, even when he knew how much his words could pierce Yuuri's heart like a thousand daggers, as if it were digging into the caverns of his vitality to drain out all his blood, much more than his sometimes cold eyes ever could. For someone like him who grew up understanding that the slightest difference in a person's glance can mean either approval or disappointment, had been taught all his life how to read the social cues of a rigid, Japanese, high-context society, candor and straightforwardness were his natural enemies.

Viktor felt things too passionately at times, and it would be a lie if he didn't feel that some part of him was afraid that one day, Viktor's ardent love for him could become hate, smoldering just as intensely. And like a cycle that never ended, turning one after another at a dizzying speed, he speculated whether it would have been better to admire him from afar all that they have been through, rather than feel and know and relish that impassioned gaze on him many a time.

Of course, he wasn't without his own faults either. He was just as imperfect...hideously so.

'Would Eros care about something like this?' he asked himself, bringing a finger to his lips, his eyes narrowing at nowhere in particular. But even as he begged the question, he couldn't but shake his head internally, knowing decisively that the query that sprouted out of the oblivion inside his head had already answered itself.

Eros would care more about the persuasion--the seduction--leading to the current prospect, rather than the end result--no, no...that was the wrong word. Rather...the continuity of it, long after the initial hurdle of ensnaring the target has been achieved.

After all, Eros existed solely for the chase of his lovers...right?

Yuuri let out a long, tired sigh, hanging his head. Therein lies his problem, alas. Eros only existed on the ice; outside of it, merely a figment of their imagination.

"A penny for your thoughts?" a voice came from out of nowhere, sounding amused. Yuuri stared at the figure standing before him, while he felt something bump itself on his knee. Breaking out of his reverie, he looked down just in time to see Makkachin gazing up at him, his dark eyes filled with glee and excitement, his tongue hanging out, the perfect picture of an obedient and well-behaved dog.

Yuuri let out a small smile, ruffling the big oaf's mane, placing a small kiss on the top of the animal's head. "I feel like I would be the one owing you something if I spill my heart out right now."

Viktor laughed out loud, his voice utterly goofy. "Then in which case, this one's on the house," he replied back cheerfully, making sure to take the other man's glasses and cup of coffee and moving it away as he sat down next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

"What's on your mind?" the silver-haired man asked more gently this time, coaxing him.

"...that you can be a handful at times, for one."

Viktor snickered at the sassy tone of his lover's voice, finding his lack of hesitation in saying what's going on inside his brain refreshing...and somewhat surprising. "For someone such as myself who lives to surprise the audience, unfortunately I have some unoriginal material too."

It was Yuuri's turn to laugh at that point, bringing a hand to stifle his giggles as Makkachin wagged his tail, blissfully happy at the sight at seeing his humans delighted and content. Receiving such an answer like that, Yuuri wondered to himself how he could not at least give it a try, for its own sake. There was no harm in it, after all.

Even if the setting was all wrong; he had gained a couple of pounds (it's so hard to lose weight during the autumn months), his hair was a mess, his lips were chapped, and currently, he wore a puffy jacket and beanie hat to keep out the cold. He looked like an overstuffed rice cake, if he were honest to himself, but he was willing to summon the ice inside his mind and recreate the world Eros lived in...if only to make up for his lack of confidence.

The next words that came out of his mouth were uttered in a somewhat breathless manner, a slight lilt to it that never failed to entice anyone who heard it, like a siren hypnotizing the sailors on a ship.

"There's an apartment building I was looking at close to the river..." he began, his cheeks flushed and his eyes dilated, his voice both shy and bold at the same time. It was Eros at one of his more vulnerable moments (just the right amount of equivocation was in and of itself a weapon), but the temptation he played at was, as always, present. "I think it would be perfect for us..."

At this, Viktor couldn't help but grin widely, his eyes narrowing, intrigued...and cautious.

The other man smiled, pleased with himself. For Eros, as Yuuri knew all too well, was nevermore excited for the chase than when the potential lover's response roamed in the realm of the unknown.

If you made it this far, thanks for reading!

#YOI #Yuri!!! on Ice #Viktuuri #fanfiction #Post!series #Yuuri Katsuki #viktor nikiforov #viktor x yuuri

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