#&feeling like i MOSTLY just have a massive amount of lack of skill

[shevr]

no you fffool you cannot compliment my drawing skills dont you realize just how many people in the world are better at this than i am. how is that not clearly an issue to you

whats your fkk,nicng probleùm

[mitigatedchaos]

As for myself, I never backpacked through Asia, and of course I've never done a medical residency, either.

I was a Second Life content creator around 2008-2012, which is itself pretty rare.

In Second Life, especially in those years, there wasn't a clean division between "playing the game" and "making the world," and there wasn't a clean division between "content creators" (including businesses) and "players." And the whole thing was funded mostly by privately leased plots of virtual land as server space.

Back in 2007, under liberal technological optimism, there was still this sense that everyone would own and learn to properly operate their own PC, which is to say a 'real' computer like a desktop or laptop, rather than an 'appliance' computer like a smartphone or tablet. Though the platform was privately held, Second Life embodied this thinking.

And so it possessed this immense feeling of power and control. You could click on a rock and drag it around. If you had good device operator skills, you could search out and purchase a supply of copiable rocks and assemble a little volcano lair and exotic beach house on a sandy beach as your home.

At first, almost all items were assembled within the game, and only textures made externally. Gradually this shifted to the use of external 3D modelling tools such as Blender, but for a time, this meant that much of the act of product creation was in the world, as in people would be logged in making the product in front of you and you could chat with them while they did so.

And of course, this world attracted people that for some reason were willing to lean to this kind of detached embodiment. Some were queer, or trans, or neurodivergent. Some were of ill health, or crippled. Others were in some sense very 'in their own heads,' or just well-adapted to simulated or virtual-reality environments. (Does that sound like Tumblr? It's probably not a coincidence.)

It was a world with a very different axis. Your appearance was a function of your aesthetic taste, your device operator skill to search out and assemble and compose an outfit, and only a modest amount of money. Someone with a very high-grade appearance would also be someone that's decently good with computers. For those with programming aptitude, their gadgets or products around them (or for sale at their store), would illustrate it.

And for creators, there was overlap between the ability to 3D model a car, and the ability to 3D model clothing. A creator could be a maker of tanks and also have their own fashion line - or even unique personal outfits. (Even hobbyists with more modest abilities would customize and kitbash - and creators would sometimes set things up specifically so that they could do so.)

There was a sense of whimsy. Cultural norms, too, though of course all massively-multiplayer systems will develop their own etiquette. (Gender could be fluid - the same player might have a stock of both male and female bodies and outfits depending on the context in which they were to be used and the message they wanted to send.)

The problem with Second Life is that you cannot live there.

Yes, it's a low-dimensionality construct like all video games. It lacks scent, and temperature, and touch. Its avatars have far fewer bones than a human body does, and of course, no organs. Its low dimensionality is why it can be changed and molded like clay, into fantastical forms that could never exist in real life.

But more importantly, children live in real life. And if you're injured or sick and can't get up, someone needs to come retrieve you in real life.

The platform turned out to be relatively useless for major corporations and universities. It didn't transform the economy and add trillions to the GDP, and virtual land didn't become the wave of the future - although digital currency did, for a while.

Instead, this failed vision of the future created a flourishing of creativity and human connection, and as time passes, it's becoming clear that the reason is because it was so earnest and very much the thing that it was. (There is value in things which are not perfect, but which are very much themselves, and are good at being the thing that they are.)

On the financial side, it was still operating at a profit when I checked the numbers several years ago. As part of its portfolio, the company seems to have leveraged digital currency operations based on their built-up competency in that sector - as in payment processing, not cryptocurrency.

And what do people write about Second Life now, in 2023? Well, they write about the fashion. About the continuing culture of small-time creators, allowed to work within the framework that was created for them all those years ago. About the platform remaining a steady source of background income for people with jobs in the games industry, notorious for its high turnover.

[monimccoythings]

Eddie Brock & Symby headcanons part II

I love them so much, they are my cringefail hyperfixations and deserved way better in the series. I just think they are neat.

Sometimes when Eddie sleeps, he has nightmares. Of his past, of the verbal abuse he suffered at the hands of his father and Jameson and of that time he spent in a coma completely helpless. The symbiote tries to comfort him as best as it can, but given its naivieté and young age he has barely any grasp of humans emotions other that Eddie’s preferred anger and self hate. So it decides that the best course of action will be to wrap itself around Eddie’s body like a cocoon reassuring him of its presence through their shared bond. It may seem a simple gesture, but it really means more to Eddie than anything else.

Even if their diet consists mostly of junk food and coffee (which is probably the only thing they can afford) Eddie is constantly working out to keep fit. Given his symbiotic partner, the normal amount of weightlifting is nothing to him, so he has to ask his other to turn off their increased combined strength so he can improve his not so regular human powress.

I saw someone headcanon that once Eddie and the symbiote were fully merged a lot of body horror would be commonly happening in Eddie’s body, and boy they were absolutely right. Sometimes it’s extra white eyes all over his body, other times it’s a second mouth full of sharp teeth on his torso… These random transformations keep happening even when he is in human form, though they doesn’t seem to be bothering him at all and just accepts them as part of his daily life.

Eddie rarely smiles, given his gloomy view of life and low opinion of society. However there are two rare occasions were he allows himself to do it: one is when he feels is other wiggling playfull inside him; his lips quirk upwards in a soft smile full of tenderness; the other is when some bitch that has been annoying them is about to get it, that smile is wide, full of pointy teeth and devoid of any tenderness. It’s diabolical and menacing.

Eddie is a very determined man, and sometimes he tends to surpass his own limits, which drives dear Symby nuts. A healthy host is a happy host and an even happier symbiote, so they constatnly have to remind Eddie to sleep, eat and even shower when they are in the middle of a very intriguing case.

Despite being very vulnerable to fire and loud noises, the symbiote loves fireworks, they are entraced by the magical colorful lights illuminating the skies. They make sure to watch them from a safe distance though, no matter how pretty, fireworks are still very dangerous for symbiotes.

The symbiote also loves movies, Symby is fascinated by the storytelling and the acting of the characters. Their favorite genre are romantic comedies and dramas where everything turns alright in the end, they are a very sappy go. I think Eddie would also be interested in cinema, but more than the actual product he is more invested in the process of making a movie. Eventhough he likes to act though and uncaring, the symbiote can feel when one of their favorite sappy movies has touched him.

They may have been bonded to Eddie for as long as they can remember, but the symbiote has little no none idea about human culture and etiquette, and given Eddie’s lack of social skills they don’t have much to learn. That’s why sometimes they misinterpret some festivities (e.g. In St. Valentines they tried to take someone’s actual heart to give it to Eddie, thinking it was the meaning of the holiday.And Eddie thought it was the most romantic thing ever, they really are two idiots made for each other)

Given that now they have each other to rely on and being bonded gave them a massive boost in confidence, Eddie is less willing to take shit from anybody. If anyone tries to pull the same stunts on him that Jameson pulled it won’t end good.

But the thing I firmly believe in is that since they are bonded, their mental health has improved. They may be terrible influences over each other; yet Eddie is definitely happier than he was before (even if he remains a grump) and doesn’t feel like a failure anymore and the symbiote has someone who they can connect with and pursue a mutually beneficial relationship.

[jeff-from-marketing]

So I've had a pretty extended amount of time to sit down with Baldur's Gate 3 and mull it over in my head, and I have some thoughts.

Up front, the game is still fucking great, however it's very telling that all of my problems with the game actually stem from the fact that it's a D&D 5e game. It's hard for me to pick what the "biggest" issue I have is, so this will probably be a little all over the place, kinda like my general thought process.

Something that sticks out to me a lot is to do with spells, namely "save or suck" spells like Hold Person or Hideous Laughter. These spells feel awful to use. Because you either get an absolutely game changing effect that drastically changes the tide of the battle, or you get literally fucking nothing but you've still wasted a precious resource (a spell slot). Damage spells for the most part at the very least still do half damage, so you're always getting something out of your resource expenditure. The thing that makes this stick out to me in particular is because I've already seen this problem be fixed in other games and systems, including Larian's other games. Divinity: Original Sin 2 is built all around different armour types and tactical usage of crowd control abilities, because you can guarantee when they'll go off. It's honestly a lot of fun for a combat system. Pathfinder 2nd Edition also saw and fixed this problem with its Degrees of Success system. It's very rare that you'll spend a spell slot and get literally nothing out of it, you'll often get a weaker effect or shorter duration on control/debuff spells against enemies who make the save, but you still get something worthwhile out of it. Compared to BG3/D&D 5e where you get literally nothing, that's a massive boost in not just effectiveness, but in terms of how it feels. Nothing feels worse than spending a very precious resource and getting literally nothing out of it. But again, this was a D&D 5e problem to begin with, so Larian are stuck between "do we make a faithful D&D game, or do we make a fun game?" Personally, I would've gone for the latter on this one, but I know how some portions of the D&D 5e community are.

The other issue I have is the disparity between martials/spellcasters, and across classes in general. Now, to Larian's credit, they have done a lot of work to bridge gaps closer together. The discrepancy between certain classes is massive in base D&D 5e, so it's actually rather impressive the amount of work that's been done to rectify that. Things like Rangers don't suck by default, Berserker Barbarians are not only actually playable, but also just fun now, familiars and summons have interesting uses in combat and don't cripple your character, etc. But it's not all perfect. Monks still have some very glaring problems, like why do they need to spend resources to do the exact same things Rogues can do for literally free? Martials in general, even with all the things Larian have done, are still lacking in options and tools compared to spellcasters. Mostly because so many of them are tied to once per short rest, so unless you're doing a short rest after literally every combat (which honestly, sometimes it feels like the game expects you to do that, which is another thing I'll get to) you'll often end up in a situation where your only options are "how do you want to hit the attack button this time?" Again, this is a problem that have been solved already, and by Larian. Divinity: Original Sin 2 had so many warfare, huntsman, and scoundrel skills you could learn without going anywhere near flashy magic if you wanted to. And they were all just as effective! Pathfinder 2e gets around this problem by not only giving martials a bunch of abilities they can use, but also just saying "yeah go hog wild with them, use them as much as you like!"

Another aspect of this, that I think is just personal taste, is that I'm not super big on the "here's your daily resources, don't spend them all at once, the game will make sure you have to burn through them though" gameplay style that D&D 5e promotes. With so many abilities only recharging on long rests, to me it promotes being overly cautious with resources and just simply not using them. It's the "I have 900 health potions because what if I need them later?" and then never using them problem. Though adding onto this: this can mean that some combats can swing wildly in difficulty. Because there's no guarantee that the players will be at full resources, or just about to run out of steam, the same combat can be anywhere between "this is piss easy" to "oh god oh fuck we're all dying." Which I find leads to a lot more save-scumming, because you often have no way to tell if you don't have enough resources for a fight until you're actually in the fight. Hell, sometimes whether or not something actually is a fight is right down to RNG, which leads to my next problem...

Larian, I get that you're trying to emulate a TTRPG here, I really do. RNG for dialogue choices is not fun. There's a reason other cRPGs moved away from them in favour of binary "do you meet the skill requirement, yes/no?" checks. There's a reason you used that very system in Divinity: Original Sin 2. Because it takes agency away from the player, and means you sometimes just simply may not be able to do something simply because the dice said fuck you. If you don't meet the requirements for a check, you can just say "ah I didn't build my character this way, that's fair, I'll have to try that out sometime." or you feel rewarded for having built your character for speech checks by being guaranteed new options and solutions to problems. With the dice rolling system though, you can invest as much as you want into those skills, but you can still roll low and get completely fucked, making it feel more like "why do I even bother investing in that skill?" The reason the dice rolling works for a TTPRG is because you have a GM there with you to talk things out and apply some reason. You may roll low, but a GM can still adjust things, or you may have a character specific reason as to why the outcome should be different, or you can employ my favourite TTPRG tool of "yes, but-" A computer game can't do any of that. So it ends up feeling a lot harsher and a lot less fair and fun. This leads can very easily lead to a lot of save scumming, and it also makes spells like Guidance feel damn near mandatory to have in a party. Which means: I hope you like Shadowheart or playing a Cleric yourself, because you can't just not have a Cleric in the party.

This also extends to things like perception checks as well. Sometimes these are progression blocking, or at least feel like it, but I also think a lot of the issue actually comes down to telling the player too much information. If everyone in the party just failed a perception roll, well... I still know there's something there. The game is just saying "but you don't get to see what it is :)" I know the game doesn't do fake perception rolls (and I also think those are bad practice as well) so I instead know that there's just something there that's probably either about to fuck me over like a trap, or something that's near vital to progress something like a secret door or button, but I don't get to interact with it. If I was never told that the perception checks failed, I'd actually have no reason to suspect there's anything there at all, and the feeling of "well I may as well go fuck myself then" would be a lot lower. Though I think traps would feel extra unfair. I don't have a good solution for that one. This actually leads into a big tabletop problem of "oh one person failed a roll, time to get everyone in the party to make the roll even if they have no reason to" just to game the system. If you're going to keep this as something random as well (I'd argue that it's probably better to have the same "do you meet the skill requirement, yes/no?" binary system that Divinity uses, but that's definitely a debatable thing) I'd actually steal from Pathfinder 2e and hide those rolls from the player entirely. Secret rolls are so good for preventing the "well I rolled low, so I still know something is up, but I'm not allowed to act on it" problem that D&D 5e has.

Going further is a little bit of spoilers narratively, so I'll put those under a cut. If you don't want to keep reading though, I'll just put my conclusion here: I still love the game, you can still tell a lot of heart and soul has been poured into it, and Larian has done a lot of work to make D&D 5e a much more fun and enjoyable experience. It's just unfortunate that it still has some of the same fundamental issues that D&D 5e has on tabletop.

Though I think the real conclusion is: Larian, how much do I have to pay you for a Pathfinder 2e based cRPG?

Going on a brief narrative tangent real quick, and bearing in mind I'm only up to Act 2: I'm not fond of how certain aspects of the world are handled.

I think the goblins at the beginning are the biggest example of where my issues lie. They are, nigh universally, portrayed as quote unquote "evil." They're all raiders, pillagers, torturers, murderers, cultists, etc. And... I don't like that. I don't ever like portraying a race as "this is the evil race." I think it's not only boring and unimaginative, but I also think it's problematic. I get that a lot of people go to fantasy to escape real life, but surely seeing "every single member of this race you come across is defacto a bad guy" has to be raising questions, no? Even ignoring that though, it just stifles narrative creativity. By saying all members of a race are evil, you're removing a bunch of possibly very interesting stories. It's why I love Pathfinder 2e gnolls and goblins so much. They're so fascinating because there's so many facets to them, they're not just all evil. Hell, even whole ass demon lords can find redemption and become forces for good in Pathfinder. D&D has the problem of "evil is evil, and always will be evil" with not much room for the grey area inbetween. Which is a shame really.

I could also get into the problematic nature of "the dark skinned dwarfs are all evil slavers" and "the dark skinned gnomes are all used as slaves by the aforementioned dark skinned dwarfs" but... let's not. That's a debate that's been had a lot already, and it's not one I feel like having here.

I do appreciate that Larian at the very least tried to not fall into that entirely. The hobgoblin and illithid you meet in the underdark in act 1 were actually quite refreshing, it's just a shame (at least so far as I've experienced) there's not more like that. I'd love to have little goblin friends that aren't just The Worst(TM) people ever. And so far I've actually been quite intrigued by Lae'zel's (and by extension the entire Githyanki) storyline, I'm actually quite fond of how that's turning out so far.

That's not to say the writing is bad. Larian are still good at what they do, and there's still some very damn good stuff in here. It's just unfortunately still got to deal with some of the inherent D&D issues by nature of it being a D&D game.

[crystalelemental]

I wound up picking up FF3 again, aiming to use some different classes this time around. But my wife wanted to use the console, so now I'm thinking about classes broadly, or at least between this game and 5, and like...my general impressions of classes. Which ones I like, which ones I hate, and which ones are like "hey that's neat" but never used.

Fighter/Knight I'm combining these two because come on. I know Fighter is more offense and Knight is more defense, but they're functionally the same: heavy armor, sword weapons, Str/Vit as the main focus. Honestly, they're serviceable but boring. I wound up using Knight in my FF3 run because I needed something defensive, and it was the easiest pick, so it stuck. But it's not that exciting a class, and I'd honestly prefer almost any alternative that did something interest.

Monk/Black Belt I tend to dislike Monk. High physical offense at the cost of defensive ability is not my jam. I like rounded if you're going to be in the front line, and they always felt too frail. I maxed it out in FF5 because of stat reasons, but skipped it entirely in FF3. My current run is using a Monk that I intend to shift into Black Belt, and we'll see how it goes. So far it's been okay.

White Mage/Wizard White Mage is good. Offensive spell in Holy is great late-game, healing is super vital, and they tend to come with buffs as options. I do think the presence of the buffs and late-game damage is what salvages them, as just healers with no other major function tends to be a massive pain. It's my issue with Knight: decent frontliner for taking damage, but their hits tend to lack damage and they don't pack any utility tools. White Mage is a lot more dynamic. I do think the Wizard thing in 3 is hilarious, because like...come on. I don't think that was necessary.

Black Mage/Wizard Offensive magic is my thing, I like Black Mage. All they need is damage, and they're the elemental coverage class, which is 100% my jam. I do think it's nice to give other classes access to certain elements beyond the main three, but Black Mage is a lot of fun.

Red Mage I adore the Red Mage by design. Sincerely, I love them. They're always so fucking bad, though. Like. Okay, 5 actually gives them a really good run. Access to White and Black Magic through level 3 is actually all you have for a really significant portion of the game. But then they drop off. And 3 has them drop off instantly, due to fewer spell slots and much weaker spells. They can't substitute for White Mage because you want the extra casts for Mini and Toad in dungeons where that's required, and they're a poor substitute for Black Mage because damage is so weak. Their access to higher stat equipment also amounts to very little, because they don't get access to the same tiers of equipment as the Knight does, so they're even more flimsy offensively and defensively. So despite having one of my favorite costumes, I like never use them. Except in FF5, where I had to farm out their ABP, because their highest tier skill is fucking Dualcast. Which...okay, small tangent, but does this not bother anyone? Like that's not an intrinsic part of the Red Mage experience, but once you're done using this class you get access to this super good skill that's mostly to make every other class better? Feels slightly insulting, is all I'm saying.

Blue Mage Fuck Blue Mage. No dude, I'm so serious, you expect me to work for your spells? "Oh but they can copy the good spells from monsters" not well they can't! FF5's system is specific that the skill has to be used on you, and the only way to force that to happen is using Beastmaster until you have Control, then using the spell on themselves because it can't target you, but you put Reflect on the enemy and then it bounces to you. And you have to be effected by it but also not dead, so shit like Lv 5 Death just sucks to pick up, because if everyone's the same level, it just party wipes you. And that sucks ass. I hate this class so much. Also your outfit looks dumb.

Ranger I actually really like Ranger. I think they're a great class. I used one for a good chunk of midgame in FF3, thanks to Barrage being such good spread damage. I think they worked really well, but unfortunately fell off pretty hard due to the lack of a really solid weapon near the end. FF5 is a lot kinder. Rapid Fire works similarly to Barrage, but it's able to be applied anywhere, making Ranger a super high-priority acquisition for certain builds, including my favorite. I didn't use much of Ranger directly in FF5, though. I intend to on the next run, though. I tend to like archers, for whatever reason. Or at least the concept of being an archer.

Thief FUCK THE THIEF. No man, this is where I throw hands. Oooh, look at me, shit stats McGee. My only job is stealing stuff that can make your quest easier, but I missed the steal command for 12 consecutive turns on this boss and wasted all our heal spells so our options are soft reset or kill it. Either way I've contributed nothing to this team. But hey, using me in random encounters means we sure have a lot of base Potions stocked up, huh? Thief is obnoxious because despite how bad all of this is, sometimes there is legitimately exclusive stuff to stealing. It's part of my deep-seeded animosity toward Locke. There is no class I respect less.

Scholar Okay, Scholar is a stupid class because it functionally doesn't do anything (White Mage can learn Libra and do its main job for it, Black Mage already does magic damage without consumables), but god I just love its moxie. Like yeah dude, I'm gonna hinge my entire life on reading the enemy's weakness, and throwing out consumables for double their normal damage, which already wasn't great. What is your plan? We all realize this is worse than spell slots, and lacks the heavy hitting late-game spells, right? I am enthralled by this class. I'm absolutely going to try using it.

Time Mage I love Time Mage. Just conceptually, Time Magic is the coolest. Having access to Gravity spells for flat damage is nice, and I'm all about buffs and debuffs...but I feel like FF5 puts all the stuff that could be useful way too late. Hastega and Meteor are great, but things like Stop? Man, Stop isn't that good single-target, and a lot of things are functionally immune. It's the problem with status broadly; major fights tend to be immune and that's lame. I didn't technically run Time Mage in my playthrough of 5, but intend to the next time through.

Berserker Interesting idea I don't particularly care for. I like having control, and it's a bit too direct in a game that I don't feel has the leeway for randomly attacking with basic attack. At least in FF6, it's funny when Umaro does it.

Mystic Knight This is probably my favorite class in FF5. I'm dead series. I love enchantment. Like, you get all the heavy armor of the Knight, but instead of sitting there on defense, you enchant your blade with magic, and deal that element with each swing. Late game, this is the Ranger combo. Ranger's Multi Strike with an enchantment good against the boss can dish out tons of damage. This is the majority of the combo that got me to beat Shinryu and Omega. Granted, on a different class, but you know.

Geomancer Such a mixed bag. I actually love the thing. I think alternatives to otherwise staple classes like Black Mage are essential, there needs to be some variation in life. Geomancer is a great option, because they have a free action in a game with spell slots, and come with significant tradeoffs. Black Mage is great single-target damage, while Geomancer is great at crowd control in random encounters. I loved using this in FF3...right up until Black Wizard came along and put it out of a job, because everything at that phase is single-target, and Geomancer's strength is gone. The meta spoke, and it said fuck you, buddy. FF5 I didn't use, but its skill options are largely utility. It capped quickly, and was mostly stuff like "find traps" or "avoid floor damage." It didn't seem to be that important. I also read that certain versions of the games will involve it calling elements that opponents resist/are immune to and rendering it basically worthless. Glad the Pixel Remasters didn't do that.

Dragoon I love Dragoons, in spite of Kain Highwind. Like they're a cool armor design, and spears are cool, and the idea of just jumping really high to stab into someone from above rules. I didn't use it in either game, barring the one required boss in FF3. I intend to main one this time through. I understand that FF5's Dragoon is considered Very Bad due to lack of skill synergy, but I do want to make something work somehow so I'll be doing my best.

Viking I didn't touch this class. I had to look up what it does. It doesn't seem to do anything. I'll have to check it out just to know what its deal is, but it sounds like "Alternate Knight." Which. Yeah okay.

Dark Knight They're really good for the AoE attacks that don't cause enemies to split. I didn't really use it, because I had alternate options. I dunno. I'll probably give them a fairer shake, but I think the problem is equipment in FF3.

Evoker/Summoner Evoker is a joke. Single-target and may not even summon the monster? Bullshit. Summoner's the legitimate one. I think Summoner had an interesting journey. FF3's summoner feels kinda late to the party, and only good because Bahamut. Then you get to FF4, where Rydia gets earlier access...but is also your Black Mage and Summons are just expensive compared to spells. And then FF5 cuts the cost to be approximate to Tier 2 spells with comparable damage but AoE, and it's just an excellent mage alternative for a major stretch of the game if you hunt the summons down. But. Then you get to the endgame and Bahamut feels worse than Flare and Holy, and I dunno man I'm just not impressed. Summoner is a fun class, I actually love it. I did technically use it through all of FF3's availability, and FF5's endgame.

Bard I actually really like Bard! I like supportive options! I want to run one really bad in FF3, and it'll probably take over for Scholar when Scholar inevitably fails. FF5, however, is hilariously broken. Romeo's Ballad inflicts Stop on all foes, and this is just a hard counter to the majority of random encounters. I tended to slap White Magic on it, or switch to White Mage once capped, to ensure utility. Random Encounters are blanked by the Ballad, and bosses that are often immune instead get the healer focus. It was a really effective amount of utility for mid-game. I do think late-game had better options later on, but it's such a strong class.

Beastmaster Not my jam at all, but the ability to Control monsters to facilitate acquiring Blue Magic spells, and in some cases apparently command them to explode and kill themselves immediately without damaging your party, is hysterical. Probably useless in boss fights, but really funny conceptually in a way I probably won't work with. "What about capturing monsters?" No. I'm sorry, it's annoying. I hate that. Too much effort for unknown effects and limited uses is annoying.

Ninja In FF3, Ninja is the superclass that's just the objective best physical class, because it takes any equipment and is huge. I hate that kind of thing. It feels boring. FF5 is more balanced, despite still being really good. Throw is pretty free as an action on a lot of fights, and deals good and consistent damage. The Dual Wield skill is also ridiculous, and part of the ultimate physical Freelancer combo alongside Ranger and Mystic Knight. In spite of this...I just don't like Ninjas. Sorry, I just don't think they're all that cool.

Dancer Really cute on Lenna, but otherwise kinda awkward? I actually do like it conceptually. Dance is one of four effects: 4x standard damage, heals HP, heals MP, or inflicts Confuse. Certain equipment and remove the Confuse condition and replace it with another roll of 4x damage. That's really cool! Unfortunately, most of that equipment comes in extremely late, and the early game acquisition is a rare steal helmet from a limited access location enemy. I didn't really get to use Dancer. But I want to. I really want to.

Samurai Gonna be honest. FF5's Samurai feels really awkward, because I can't figure out its general utility. I assume it's to be a sort of tank Knight class style thing, but all I know it as is "Zeninagi," to throw away gil for crazy damage. Which is also useless on certain bosses it'd be really nice to have against. It's just a messy class all around. I don't really care for it too much, especially in clean playthroughs. The lost gil feels like too much given how expensive endgame equipment can be.

Chemist Interesting but the exact opposite of what I like. In general, I don't like finite. I think finite materials are a massive pain in the ass, especially when it involves farming drops or steals. And Chemist operates by using those kinds of materials for various effects. But without a guide or prior knowledge, the effects are completely unknown and may even be detrimental. I feel like it's too high a price to pay for what it's likely to do.

Mime/Sage These are not equivalent classes, but they serve an equivalent function, in that they're in the same bucket as FF3's Ninja. They're the broken superclasses. In the case of Mimic, it gets three command options, which can be Dualcast and two forms of magic, and copies stat bonuses and passives of all mastered classes, which means it is statistically superior in addition to potentially functioning as a Red Mage with all forms of Black and White magic. In the case of Sage, it's a similar deal, having access to all forms of damage and higher tier spell casting more frequently with better stats. That's too much! Their individual components were already pretty strong, but this is silly! It's extra goofy for Sage, which I feel like isn't an objective increase in FF3, given the spell system. You can assign three spells of each level, but like...you can't really alternate anything. If you're substituting for Black Mage, you want to be casting Flare, not using those slots for Arise. If you're substituting for White Mage, you need to be focused on Curaja and Arise, not spamming attacks. It just doesn't feel like the best adjustment given the systems in place.

Freelancer In FF5, Freelancer is to physical what Mime is to magic. It copies passives and stat bonuses of all mastered classes. If you master Thief, Monk, and Summoner, congrats on the best stat increases available. If you master Ninja, Mystic Knight, and Ranger, congrats on being unparalleled. Dual Wield with Rapid Fire is 8 hits, with the enchanted element. It's the easy mode win on Omega, and slaps the shit out of Shinryu just by virtue of having Flare as an element. Admittedly? It's hilarious. I tend to dislike the idea of the basic class being the strongest, I feel like it's a copout even if it is with the effort of mastering others (part of it is I like the costumes and this feels lame), but this? This kinda gets a pass, because that's so funny. It's like my favorite kind of approach, turning the Mystic Knight into the best approach. It is a bit overpowering, but like. It's funny. It's so funny.

[sunriseverse]

💚 Green and 🖤 Black and 🤎 Brown

💚 Green: Do you ever feel inspired by and/or jealous of other people's writing?

inspired, yes; jealous, no. maybe when i was younger, and my technical skills were more lacking—my writing isn't the best thing in the world, but what i have now makes me happy. i've had a lot of opportunities to grow and improve, and i've come to a place that i am content with. sometimes i see other people being really, really good at something (comedy, for one) and wish idly that i were better in that way, but mostly it just encourages me to hone my own skills, because maybe someday someone will look at my writing and go, oh, i want to be like that.

🖤 Black: Do you think about your story when you're not physically writing it? Does it help with plotting scenes, character arcs, etc.?

a better question is "when am i ever not thinking about my writing?" which has a very clear answer: never. there is not a single moment in my life that i'm not thinking about my writing—in part because it's a special interest of mine, and thus underpines my very existence, and part because, well, it's what i spend most of my free time doing. it pervades my every waking moment—even those that aren't "nice"; i've had more than one breakdown and had an analytic part of me go, oh, i know how to nail that emotional beat in my project now! it permeates beyond that, too—i dream about my writing, and even though this isn't very conducive to, well, actually making progress on things since i rarely remember the exact details of my dreams, but it certainly adds to the "living, breathing writing" mindset i've unintentionally tricked myself into. if i'm not writing, i'm thinking about writing, or drawing art for my writing, or talking to my friends about my writing, or, or, or. you get the picture.

🤎 Brown: How did you decide to write (or why are you writing) a certain fanfic?

going to take this as a moment to be wildly self-indulgent and talk about sunrise—my darling, my heart, my reason for existence, if we want to be sentimental. what initially started off as a silly pacrim fusion (as i am wont to do—show me a fandom i've been in post-2018 that i haven't written a pacrim au for, i dare you) accidentally gained, uh, 10k+ in lore, 14k+ in actual established canon, and an uncountable amount more to be written as i have the time. it is the pinnacle of self-indulgence, combining half a dozen of my interests—pacific rim, the yuan and ming dynasties, especially the wanli era, science fiction, eldritch somethings, the horrifying exploration of autonomy, control, love, political strata upon political strata, tragic sibling dynamics, weird as fuck biological mutations in the vein of annihilation (terrible film, wonderful visuals), character design, love and trust as the only thing that can save the world, and more! i write this verse because it lives, quite literally, in a penthouse suite in my mind, and it's not leaving any time soon, and it's fun. also, because i can canonically say shit like "well, yes, they can tear you apart and rebuild you with massive amounts of futuristic tech, but no, there aren't any smartphones. also the ottoman empire took over most of europe"

thanks for the ask!

[blzzrdstryr]

Reveries of changes

Yandere!Childe x Fatui!gn!reader

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CW: Dissociation, mentions of rape, violence, unhealthy relationship, abuse of power.

Sometimes you find yourself asking what ifs. What if the Event never happened and you never received the vision? What if Ajax never developed his obsession with you? What if you treated him a little bit warmer? Would he be more tolerable? There are thousands of possible scenarios buzzing in your head, sometimes diverging just by words left unsaid or an outstretched hand being shaked. You know it’s a futile thing, thinking about the future and the present that you will never have, but you can’t stop, thoughts spiraling further and further.

This morning starts with the similar what if. What if I agreed to start again? The brief conversation from yesterday is still on your mind - you dread it’s another of the turning points in your relationship, just like the rejected handshake or the hospitalized recruit were. A moment after which there’ll be changes, changes that you won’t have time to prepare for. Speaking from the experience alone, Childe, like the rotten bastard he is, will act even worse from now on. It all started from teen Ajax following you and offering his friendship at every turn and somehow ended in him personally asking Tsaritsa to assign you to him, reducing you from a highly respectable Fatui agent skilled both in stealth and subterfuge to a glorified escort and a secretary.

One day he’ll just get tired from all of this and will forcefully bend me over in some dark murky corner, you darkly conclude, the remnants of the sleep leaving your body entirely at the grim thought. Or maybe he will break his promise not to cheat and will order me to do it.

Unwilling to think about the Ninth Wave of your unwanted relationships, you quickly stand up from the bed and start preparing for the day. Dressing and freshening up from the sleep you still mentally return to the darker place, cautious of what Tartaglia will pull out this time. Finally, you exit the door fully ready and lock the room, hiding the key under the clothes after, and make way to the fourth floor of the bank.

Here lies Childe’s working space and personal quarters , and if the former can be easily seen and entered just by walking up the stairs, the latter is hidden from view by the wall and massive door. There is a wide work desk and two armchairs placed too close for your comfort. You peek into the interior window, only to find it veiled by a thick curtain from the other side, so you decide to broaden the space between the chairs.

Satisfied with distance now, you sit at your place, taking a sheet out of the pile of documents, mostly consisting of reports of credits approved and money returned, unusually mundane yet highly classified information. Aside from accompanying Childe when he needs to beat and threaten the debts out of deadbeats, you also have to track the transactions the bank makes, a routine job consuming most of your daytime.

At the sixth or seventh fiscal account, you hear door opening and mentally brace for Ajax’s presence. Harbinger doesn’t smile, looking serious instead. You hope it has nothing to do with you, as it’s too early in the day for you to already deal with his usual mess.

“[First]”, you look up, staring at the bizarrely humorless Ajax looming over your sitting form. He clears his throat, as if he feels awkward right now, “Are you sure you won’t have one of your episodes?”

Your mind blanks for a second and then there’s a mix of shame and anger flooding your being and making you see red. Over the last months you spent working with him, he was the sole trigger of your affliction and now there are considerable gaps in your memory, in which you have absolutely no clue what happened to you. You had an inkling that Childe is aware that you are not always completely here, but a slap in the face with such casual mention is enough to render you wordless for a good minute.

“I... It happens only under certain circumstances”, you find your voice wavering and his face darkens, as he quickly catches unsaid ‘because of you’. Fortunately, he decides not to press it.

“There’s a problem at hands, one that needs your skills". These words make you do a double take - Ajax doesn't look like he's lying, speech lacking usual grandiose and bravado, yet you still can't believe he lets you return to your former work. You make a quick guess.

“Qixing?”

“Qixing” he nods,"their spies must have learned something about the sigils. It's a minor issue now, but if Tianquan or Yuheng will learn about it…"

"A diplomatic disaster and a permanent loss of Geo Archon's gnosis" you continue for him, “Fatui would be banned or seriously limited in Liyue and most of trade routes will be cut off, Ningguang can easily press sanctions against most of Snezhnayan import”. You frown at the thought, no matter what Fatui would do in such situations there's too much to lose and almost nothing to gain, even if you start destroying the investigation and replication of sigils right now, it will be a waste of possible weapons against Rex Lapis.

Then, there's one painless exit from the complicated mess: destruction of all meager material evidence and clues they somehow scraped together. Despite finally having a glimpse of a freedom, you don’t feel any excitement, but doubt instead - just a year ago, such operation would be another routine task for you, but now, having wasted months because of Childe's possessiveness, you can't help but feel incompetent.

You contemplate, glancing at him: on one hand, Tartaglia can easily send any other agents, but on the other hand, none of said agents possess a vision, a vision that you specifically molded to be a perfect tool for stealth and assassinations. He tilts his head, a hand impatiently drumming against the desk, waiting for your answer - you can infer his inner monologue - Tartaglia, just like you, is torn between his loyalty to Tsaritsa and his own feelings on the matter and this is what finally cements your decision.

You can almost see how much he itches to forbid you from taking the mission, but stops himself out of his sense of duty to Snezhnaya, and this knowledge fills you with darker type of satisfaction to the very brim: You lean back, pretending to still ponder over his words, enjoying the view of apprehensive Childe for once.

“I think, I can’t...” you start, your voice deliberately small and hesitant, watching how Ajax smiles again, convinced that you no longer have any confidence in your abilities, “let Snezhnaya be compromised in any way”.

He doesn’t let any of the anger and frustration show on his face, yet the drumming ceases, leaving you two in the silence, save for the sounds of the street coming out of the window.

You know you’re poking at the sleeping tiger, letting a childish impulses to guide your words, but the opportunity to upset Harbinger are much harder to come by these days: he took away your job, your delusion and your freedom, the least he can do to compensate is suffer in return.

“Alright”, he finally says and fails to hold back disappointed sigh “agent [Last]. Your delusion is in Ekaterina’s possession, just as the rest of the equipment. You will start tonight, information is in the upper left drawer. You have no right to fail, if you do I will write a complaint to Tsaritsa against you and personally oversee that you will be discharged”.

It’s a gambling game then, and terribly unfair at that - even if you win it won’t set you free or relocate under someone easier to handle and Tartaglia loses virtually nothing by allowing you to roam out of his sight for one night only, and by failing you will literally had your life into Childe’s eager hands.

You won’t let the bastard triumph.

***

After getting your gear and delusion back, you spend the rest of the day reading the data and mentally preparing for what is about to come. The qixing base you're to infiltrate is located awfully near the current place of sigil research, as if Ningguang or whoever planted it here already suspected Fatui from the start. The base itself is disguised as an ancient Liyuen ruin with a couple of deactivated ruin hunters placed nearby to scare off the adventurers who no doubt will try to explore it.

You are almost panting when you finally reach it - turns out that despite being easily visible from afar, the base is surrounded by the tall and steep cliffs from all sides, with the only passage bound to be guarded. Invoking to the power of your vision, you effortlessly become invisible to the eye, enter the building and almost rush back the same second - there’s a millelith passing nearby in whom you almost bumped in.

Heart racing you enter the building again, walking on half bent legs to minimize the sounds, and avoid milleliths on your way. They feel a sudden rush of frosty air, but seeing no one nearby, just write it off as a sudden midnight chill. You continue to make your way, peeking into each room, forcing yourself to remain in this form longer and longer, body aching and freezing from the overuse. Finally you see it - a stack of documents placed on the bamboo table near the oil lamp in a conveniently empty room.

Your hand is already extended to push the lamp and fake an accidental fire, when you decide to investigate the papers - it’s better to learn what qixing already knows. Your eyes quickly peruse a liyuen script, characters upon other characters - a report about suspicious activities, a detailed intelligence of Northland’s spendings and thankfully, not a word of sigils, except the note stating that Fatuis are buying a considerable amount of paper and ink.

Having memorized each of the documents, you throw the lamp now, a flame quickly spreading to the documents and soon consuming a whole table. Someone in the corridor screams about fire, four milleliths rushing in the room and you use this distraction to sneak out. Having escaped the borders of the faux ruin you quickly run, still maintaining invisibility, and only when you reach the cliffs again do you allow yourself to rest.

After climbing over the rocks, the rest of the trail is spent between jogging and walking, frost from the vision still residing inside. Bitter chill slows down your movements and you can’t help, but shiver from time to time, arms and legs aching and burning from it. You eye the pyro delusion and consider using it - unlike a cryo vision that you sculpted for secrecy and agility, the delusion is more battle-focused, able to produce quick bursts of fire in the rare occasions you get into a brawl.

Suddenly, a ball of flames explodes near you - a whopperflower bursts out of the ground, sensing you in proximity. You dodge another fireball, instinctively flinching at the sudden flash of light and send an ice blade it's way. It slightly grazes the creature's skin, yet a mimetic plant rushes back under the ground as you summon another icicle and swiftly stab it in the "head" the second it emerges again.

The plant dies in convulsion, it’s reddish walls contracting around the blade, a fast stream of boiling hot energy nectar shooting from the wound the moment you pull away the weapon. You curse, as some of the liquid hits you on the leg, burning a part of your pants and scorching the flesh underneath. Hissing and gritting teeth, you use your vision again, now to soothe a throbbing pain.

Well, at least I am not freezing anymore.

You return at the first rays of dawn, dull pain still lingering in the lower body, pulsating and echoing every step. Slightly drowsy Nadia at the entrance nods at you, her gaze at your wound obvious even with a mask on, and you nod back, a wordless exchange providing a slight reprieve, before you have to deal with Childe again.

“Hard day?”, she asks right before you enter, a pale shadow of concern in her voice. You frown, confused by the sudden disquiet.

“Something happened?”

“Uhm”, a small pause, “the boss. He was restless tonight, very restless”.

Ah, shit.

“Well, that is unpleasant” you deadpan, any remaining desire to go inside the bank vanishing the same second: “Thank you anyways” and then you step in.

Harbinger waits right there in an absolutely empty lobby - it seems that Ekaterina’s shift hasn't started yet. He’s leaning on the wall, head turning to you as you enter and immediately noticing the state of your leg. His expression grows darker, when you thought he would lighten up at your perceived failure instead.

"Who did this to you?" he asks, hints of steel appearing in his voice. You lift your eyebrows - no teasing, starters or bravado. Maybe he's so impatient to hear about your failure that he forgot to keep up the act?

You swat away his question, deciding to report on your mission instead - documents were destroyed by a set up accident, none of the qixing and milleliths saw you; he doesn’t seem to listen though, eyes still glued to the burn and then he repeats his question, voice taking the dangerous tone.

“No one, no one did it. It was an accident on the way back”, he isn’t convinced judging by the way he grabs your arm, his monstrous strength evident in the steel trap grip. “Damn” you cuss, trying to free your hand - if Tartaglia learns that you let the whopperflower of all things injure you, he won’t let you live it down and will weaponise it, to point out your so-called incompetence over and over again.

“Let me go” you tug harder, a vision coming back to life from the distress. You pull away your wrist from him again and again and then you hear it first and feel it second - a small cracking sound and a sharp pain, shooting up your arm - you broke a bone. It’s too sudden for you to realize what happened or even properly sense the shock of ache.

He lets go of you in the same second, eyes looking blankly at the injured hand. His lips thin and he exhales, in a long and strangely controlled manner - seeing Childe act and look so emotionless is sure bizarre. He hauls you up bridal carry style, ripping out a low hiss of pain as his clothes rub against the burn, and directs himself to the stairs. You're too busy gritting your teeth and trying not to cry in front of Childe to notice him climbing past the third floor and only when he opens the door to his room with a kick do you finally snap back to reality.

Despite working for him for months now, you enter his quarters for the first time. It's a spacious place, with a wide bed and writing desk located near the window. There are different weapons decorating the walls - swords, claymores, spears - all with the traces of use, and a small pile of trinkets and children's toys on the desk, placed right near the started letter, some of them already half wrapped - must be a gift for someone, then.

He sets you down on the bed and turns to the wall, taking a dagger from its place and some small container. A part of you gets scared all of the sudden - you remember your morning thoughts and all those instances when his eyes focused on your body for far too long to be innocent or comfortable. Is this it? Did he get so fed up with you that he decided to drop any pretense and abandon the cat-and-mouse game you two seemed to have?

Ignoring the pain in both limbs you jolt for the exit - there’s no meaning in fighting him, yet you can still flee, lock in your room and then plan what to do. “Stop it” he says, a warning clear in his voice, and to your frustration it’s enough to glue you in place. You look at him, heart booming in your chest, barely suppressing a flinch at every step he’s taking. He leads you back to the bed, as you feel the world warping around you again and the worst part is that you can’t stop it - It’s unfair, I can’t leave, not yet, I will hate myself for the rest of my life if it happens.

He kneels down, blade slicing through the pants as you forget how to breath. His figure deforms, a dark blue sea leaking out of the dead fish eyes and you see great leviathans lurking underneath the surface. Childe is the ocean, in a sense that he contains horrors beyond the human imagination. He is the great sleeping kraken that will swallow the world and you are his first victim.

His hand takes something out of the container and you expect it to burn and to hurt you, but instead there’s a muffled soothing feeling that comes, an unintentional “ah” coming out of your mouth. He doesn’t force himself and patches you up on the contrary.

You come back to yourself little by little, when he almost finishes with ministrations, leg and wrist looking like two casts. It feels bizarre to come back to your body halfway, to see Ajax kneeling in front of you, head hung low and it’s even weirder to hear his voice, hurt and utterly defeated: “So that’s what you think of me”.

He helps you come back to your room, as you still feel dazed. You pinch yourself a couple of times, still unable to believe that any of these happenings are real, they are.

A turning point, you conclude, there’s no way anything will stay the same after this.

You both dread and anticipate the changes.

[millenialfanfictionaddiction]

*I'm going to post info about the fic above the title incase you don't want to read my feelings/rant 🤣. Author notes below the cover photo*

Fic Title: Golden Nights

Short synopsis: Y/N is a women on mission with a goal to own her own dance studio. After working two jobs and saving for years to achieve her dream, she's finally within an arms reach. What happens when an unlikely Pro Hero shows up at her club as part of an investigation? Will Y/Ns dreams become a reality or will this new face change her life forever?

WARNINGS:

This fic will contain 18+ NSFW content! There will be potentially triggering material in this fic! Please read with caution. I never want tk make anyone uncomfortable. That's not the goal. This fic is sad. I cried. I mean I cry at alot of fics but I cried for the reader. The ending will be fluffy because I can't end on pain. The fic is very female empowered as well. Bakugo is a fucking simp and soft boy. I'm sorry I cant control it.

Also Y/N uses she/her pronouns. I tried to keep Y/N as description-less as possible but I describe specific life events that required detailing Y/Ns features. There is mention of Y/N being "little" or "small" compared to Bakugo but let me just say, I imagine Pro Hero Bakugo to be massive! Like I'm 6'0" myself and I imagine him to be taller than me and built. It's ok if he's not, that's just how I invison it and portray it in my writing.

Upload schedule:

I plan to publish the first few chapters this week. Hopefully it will be up by Friday. I'll mass post them because I'm horrible at establishing a story in the first chapter so you get an aggressive amount. Then I'll slow down on posting.

I currently have the first 17 chapters read through and mostly edited. I apologize in advance for spelling mistakes and poor grammar. It's never been a strong suit of mine. I just add adjectives and descriptors until my heart is full 🤣

*post edit: I know my title making skills lack ok. 2007 called, they want their power point title back 🤣

AUTHOR NOTES (you can ignore me)

I'm so fucking excited to post this. I think its pretty good if I'm being honest. Not to toot my own horn but yeah, you know fuck imma hype myself up! I'd consider myself a decent writer. With that, I'm long winded. I know this, it's a character flaw at this point that I must accept. I actually use to take point deductions on college essays because I couldn't contain myself. I'm also really bad at proper grammar usage. I pre-apologize.

Also, I plan to write for a few animes in the future including Haikyuu, Attack on Titan and more My Hero Academia. I've got a few other animes I'm getting into but I don't feel comfortable writing for them yet. Haikyuu is my comfort anime right now and let me just say, I need some fics about the coaches ok 🤚🏻 while people be drooling over Bokotu, I'm over here drooling over Mizoguchi Sadayuki (coach of Aoba Johsei). Ukai who? Naoi Manabu (coach of Nekoma) is a cut above! You can't sit there and tell me Oiwake Takurō (coach of Date tech) isn't immaculate. I'm sorry, my preferences are showing 👀 I feel like I'd make a good team mom 😊 I'd adopt all the teams, read them stories and make them cookies.

I'm doing it again with the ranting. Ok I'm done. Have a plesent day. Drink some water, touch some fucking grass and kick some ass 🙌🏻

-T 🖤

(Aka the millenial who went to therapy but it going back to the OG therapy, Tumblr and reading fan fics 🙂)

(I'm kidding kids, stay in therapy)

[agent-cupcake]

Can I ask your opinion? So, I feel like everyone into 3H is in love with Dimitri, but I can't connect with him. I don't dislike him, but I feel like there isn't much to his personality without all his various mental health issues. It's hard to get a feel on what he's really like, so I end up just seeing him as a walking ball of trauma and not a three-dimensional character. Do you have any thoughts on Dimitri himself and how to separate him as a person from his psychological issues? Thanks!

Hmm, I guess my first thought is that everyone resonates with characters differently and so if you don’t particularly feel connected to him, that’s not wrong. Fictional parasocial relationships are very similar to real-life relationships, so it follows that nobody is going to like every character. I can’t say that a portion of my love for his character doesn’t come from his mental issues because that’s something I personally relate to and feel drawn to in others. That’s just who I am and how I build relationships. There is also something to be said for the unavoidable way mental illness informs a person’s behavior and character, it’s as much an aspect of them as being born with blond hair or losing an eye.

That said, I will do my best to explain why I think Dimitri is wonderful. Not in spite of his mental illness, but because I don’t think that’s all he is.

So, Dimitri is, as he says, a very clumsy person. This unfortunately extends to his social skills. He has a lot of very socially awkward tendencies and a general lack of self-awareness. This contrasts with his innate desire to please people, or at least avoid upsetting anyone. The thing is, Dimitri doesn’t always completely understand what upsets people or how exactly they might feel. His childhood isolation left him rather emotionally unaware and desperate for the acceptance and approval of others. That’s not to say he doesn’t try to understand other people’s feelings, but it’s not an intuitive process. He has a habit of saying kind of dumb or uncomfortable things out of nowhere, which is most likely his real feelings coming out in rather inept ways. He means well, but he’s just so dang clumsy.

The desperation to be included and validated I mentioned, I think, can be seen in the way he tries so hard to make the other Blue Lions see him as a peer and equal all the while keeping himself rather closed off from them. Dimitri approaches conversations as a means of focusing on the other person, trying to make an appeal to them rather than as an interaction where both parties could be seen as vulnerable. Of course, just like most other socially awkward introverts, he opens up when he feels closer to the person, but that takes a while. Gotta unlock the supports, you know? Although it’s not necessarily obvious, his incredibly stiff behavior (especially pre-timeskip) and the way he switches between overly formal and awkwardly friendly in his interactions with people as he tries to figure out how to socially and emotionally navigate relationships really gives me the impression of someone trying desperately to fit in without even the faintest clue of how to actually manage that. He also does his best to avoid social situations, which, mood. Basically, Dimitri’s a big dumb massive introvert trying to act like he’s not.

FURTHERMORE, he is a dork. An absolute goof of a person. Dimitri canonically thinks so-bad-its-good puns and jokes are hilarious. His own style of telling jokes is saying things that may or may not have contextual humor in a normal voice and then claiming after the fact that he intended it as such. Now, his supports with Alois are absolute factual proof of the so-bad-its-good humor, but might I also direct your attention to the scene before the battle against Miklan in Conand Tower (the event name is “Tower in a Storm (Blue Lions)”). Basically, Gilbert is explaining the history behind Conand Tower and Dimitri says, in an incredibly earnest voice, “You’re very well informed, Gilbert. Please, tell us more.” This is a joke. Supposed to be, at least. The delivery is somewhat emphasized, but not in a recognizably sarcastic way. Gilbert, who knew Dimitri very well when he was young, realizes it’s a joke after a second. But there are other things Dimitri says that I believe are his bad “jokes” and since nobody knows him well enough to tell, they don’t call him on it. There’s no proof, but his line in the Lord’s intro where he says, “And here I thought you were acting as a decoy for the sake of us all.” to Claude has to be an attempt at sarcasm. Dimitri is oblivious, but not stupid. In his Goddess Tower conversation with Byleth, when discussing the topic of wishes, he says, “Perhaps it would make more sense for me to wish that we’ll be together forever. What do you think?” In a completely normal voice. Following are two speech bubbles of “...” before he laughs and proclaims that it’s just a joke and that he’s getting better at telling them. Now, this is a two-parter because I see this as both his horribly awkward tendency to say things he feels without thinking too hard beforehand as well as his silly deadpan style of “jokes”. Granted, he does apologize. Dimitri’s got socially awkward zoomer humor. It’s endearing.

Here is a video of Dimitri hitting on Byleth pre-timeskip. I’m not sure how far it goes to endear someone to him, but the mostly awkward and occasionally smooth attempts of Dimitri’s flirtations are absolutely a highlight of his character. 

Now, this isn’t quite as cute as all that, but I think character arc and change do a lot for making a character feel more three-dimensional. Dimitri is hypocritically selfish. Although those are both negative terms, I don’t necessarily mean them as such, at least not in their totality. Both are things to overcome, which he does. And that’s why I feel like they’re a valid point of discussion when trying to explain the allure of his character.

The hypocritical part comes from the way he easily allows and forgives the flaws of others while constantly castigating himself for the same reasons. He says things that show an absurd amount of a lack of self-awareness. For example, he tells Edelgard, “Hm. You will prove a lacking ruler yourself if you look for deceit behind every word and fail to trust those whom you rely on.” All the while straight-up lying to and emotionally avoiding his friends. Dimitri also tells Marianne, when she is punishing herself for putting other people at risk, “What matters is that they came back safely in the end. You shouldn’t blame yourself for that.” Really, his C and B with Marianne is an exercise in hypocrisy. The standards Dimitri has for himself are incredibly, unattainably high. He’s setting himself up for failure in that way and, to an extent, knows what he’s doing because he knows that those same standards are too much for his friends and allies to meet. He wishes to take on everything himself. But, what I find so beautiful about this, is that Dimitri eventually realizes that he can’t do that. He is not strong enough to take on the weight of the world on himself, he comes to understand that it’s something he must allow himself to share with the people who care about him. He comes to realize that, as difficult as it is to accept, he is a weak person. Despite all of his introversion and inability to emotionally open up, he figures out that having a support system and allowing yourself to rely on people who love you is a necessity. Personally, I think this message is incredibly important in real life. Watching Dimitri come to that conclusion and argue it’s importance really rounded out his arc and journey as a person. Now, the relatability of this conclusion will differ, but I don’t think it has to do with his mental illness as much as it is a fundamental aspect of growth.

The selfishness is basically outlined above. Dimitri is selfish about his pain and secrets, purposefully and selfishly driving people away because he wants to keep the burden to himself. His vice is guilt and he indulges in the pain of it like an addiction. Hatred, too, is a drug. He thinks he needs it to keep going, even though all it does is bring agony to himself and others around him. Learning to accept and let go of these feelings is, again, something I think is important and a character arc that I really love, especially when you see him suffer as much as he does. Now, the execution of this is lacking, I admit. But that’s an issue for another time I think.

I am not quite sure if I did much to change your opinion, but this is all I can think of for now. There is probably a lot more than I’ve left out because I think about Dimitri far too much to be healthy. So, I’ll leave you off with some honorable mention aspects of his character that I think are super fun:

Pre-timeskip Dimitri has his hair tucked behind his ear. He can lift a wagon by himself. In the DLC, when faced with an impossible-to-open gate, it was not muscle man Balthus who said he couldn’t open it, but twinkish teen Dimitri. He’s not really smooth with one-liners. Like, at all. Notably, when attacking Manuela post-timeskip, he says, “Perhaps I should have appeared before you holding a bouquet of flowers, rather than the weapon that will end your life.” Adding to this, at one point, Dimitri fucked up a pick-up line so badly the girl came after him. Areadbhar has a mitten on it in the Azure Moon final picture. He breaks everything. His Crest activation ability even supports this, using twice the durability of any given Combat Art. One of his post-timeskip counselor messages is, “I lived in the slums for a long time, and I saw how the people there suffered from poverty and the ravages of war. There must be something I can do to save them." His room in the academy is right next to Sylvain’s, meaning that for almost an entire year Dimitri was a single wall away from hearing whatever nonsense Sylvain was getting up to. Dimitri is the only Lord that takes the throne and doesn’t abandon his people in some form or another.

And, finally, he is pretty sexy. And that’s all that really matters, isn’t it?

[mbti-notes]

Hello! INFJ here. I notice that "enjoy more intellectually stimulating solitary pursuits" is listed under Level 6 ego development for ESFJ. However, why is that not mentioned for INFJ in relation to Ti development? Is love of intellectually stimulating solitary pursuits already covered in dominant Ni? As an INFJ, I personally find intellectual exploration at a conceptual level to be almost effortless - asking conceptual questions, getting a "big picture" view of a field, developing my long term

[con’t: vision, viewing a problem from multiple perspectives, creating a high level outline of a paper I'm reading, etc. But getting into details on my own can be quite difficult - I often lose my focus and my mind wanders. I can do it more easily in 1:1 technical conversations though (where I need to hold up my end of the conversation), or if I set some social deadline, e.g. signing up to give a talk. Is it tertiary Ti development that will solve this, or is this an Fe issue? I recently realized just a couple days ago that I was repressing shame about some emotional trauma in my adolescence, which prevented me from seeing myself as a good person, and it feels like my Fe has massively increased in the last couple days alone. I've been releasing the repressed emotions via many hours of crying. I also had a rapid series of insights into a few people I really care about (issues that they're dealing with and how to help), and feel like I finally understand why there are so many songs about love. I  finally decided to actively pursue someone who I think will be my life partner - I think immature Ti was holding me back somehow (wanting to be independent). But I'm not sure if further Fe development will solve this issue of difficulty with detail oriented work or if it's a Ti or Se thing. Or maybe I just need to consciously apply Ni more, e.g. always reminding myself of why I'm delving into details, and making sure to have a conceptual scaffold first before any details work?]

You’re mixing several different issues into one long message, which makes it difficult to respond. Please make your messages focused, as per the blog guidelines. What is considered “intellectually stimulating” to ESFJs is very different from INFJs, not to mention different from person to person within a type, so why are you using ESFJ development as comparison? What purpose does this serve? Every type has their own set of issues to address. 

Trouble with details comes from having a low S function, which is to say that it is a common problem for Ns in general. Each N type has a different path to learning how to handle details better, depending on which exact function pair they’re dealing with and positioning in the stack. The ability to handle details for INFJs involves Ti and Se, both lower functions that are difficult and tiring to use for long periods of time. It’s far easier to develop the tertiary than the inferior function, therefore, Ti is going to be the heavy lifter. 

Ti development encourages one to be more careful, specifically, systematic, in one’s thought process. INFJs often draw irrelevant or illogical connections between ideas and then cannot separate out ideas from each other to focus on addressing each one properly -> very messy thought process (which is already apparent in your message). Immature INFJs like to indulge the fun of drawing Ni connections (often as a means to boost the ego), but they can’t/don’t want to do the very hard Ti work of slowly sorting through information systematically to arrive at precise and accurate judgments. Being a lower function, INFJs often misuse Ti to rationalize their beliefs, as opposed to dispel falsehoods. Lack of Ti development means having no reliable method for dissecting problems and no skills for resolving them. In essence, it amounts to poor critical thinking ability, unable to parse and evaluate information systematically. If you need to improve your critical thinking skills, I have already provided book recommendations on the resources list.

Se development encourages one to be more observant of objective facts and details, specifically, to ensure that one’s beliefs about the world are grounded in the reality of the world. Being Ni dominant, INFJs usually “trust their gut”, which is another way of saying that they have a tendency to believe without factual verification. While your gut may be reliable in pointing you, very generally, in the right direction, it is not foolproof, nor is it able to explain the details of how or why. This means that relying on your gut too much can get you into trouble when your beliefs drift into fantasy and you don’t even realize it. Immature INFJs cannot tell the difference between speculation and fact. When an idea pops into their mind, they run with it. And when they run with it long enough, they believe in it, as they misuse Se to selectively gather “facts” to support the belief. Misusing Ti AND Se basically gives free rein to Ni delusion. 

Mentally manipulating ideas in the manner that you describe involves using Ni and Ti closely together, which always runs the risk of descending into some kind of bias or self-deception, especially when Se is ignored in the process. You need extraverted functions to ensure that this doesn’t happen. Using Fe to access multiple perspectives and opinions is the right way to expand your perspective. However, Ni gathering even more data through Fe sources isn’t going to do you much good, in fact, it may only end up overwhelming or confusing you, if you have no way to systematize and evaluate that data. That is why developing Ti is eventually necessary for refining your ideas and correcting false beliefs.

It’s not a shame to need outside vetting for your ideas. Humans are communicative and collaborative creatures. Two heads are better than one. But it is a shame if you are extremely dependent on outside vetting because you are resistant to or afraid of developing your independent thinking capabilities. Why would someone be unconsciously resistant to or afraid of developing their independent thinking capabilities? Because they don’t want to take full responsibility when confronting the consequences of their beliefs. To put another way, if you mostly get your ideas and opinions from other sources, you can always blame the “bad source” for being wrong and plead innocence. Whereas, if your ideas come only from you and you get called out for being wrong, then you have no choice but to deal with the shame of being “stupid” - an insecurity that Fs often grapple with.

If you are developing Ti properly, over time, you will need a less and less intensive outside vetting process, because you become more capable of doing it for yourself. However, Ti is a lower function, so you are never going to be able to use it like a dominant function. Trying to develop a tertiary function is necessary only to a certain extent, to the extent that you’re able to use it for helping the higher functions work optimally. You shouldn’t fall into the trap of feeling bad when you hit a wall in its development. You shouldn’t start trying to copy Ti doms and using their type’s standards to make inappropriate evaluations of yourself - this is a great way to fall into shame and unhealthy perfectionism. You’re not Ti dom, never will be one, never should be one. You are always going to benefit more by sharing and exchanging ideas with people. You have to accept the reality of what you are and work with it, rather than lose yourself in chasing unrealistic ideals. 

Remember that positive growth cannot come from negative self-loathing. Without self-love and self-acceptance, self-improvement easily morphs into self-harm. Every function in your stack has its proper role to play, so respect the parameters of those roles and development should go more smoothly.

[mwolf0epsilon]

PUT THE HEADCANONS IN THE BAG! Tell me everyone's height, build, and how/what they'd do in a fight.

Joey Drew - 5'11", slim build with a weakness in the right knee (carries a cane and later on is wheelchair bound). Pre-Ink, he's pretty much defenseless, you're basically bullying a crippled old man. Post-Ink, I wouldn't recommend fighting him because he knows how to control his abilities (including shapeshifting) and his cane is actually a cane sword. He will mess you up.

Henry Stein - 5'6", short and stout with very bad arthritis and back issues. Pre-Ink, you're a monster for bullying poor soft grandpa. Post-Ink, if you piss him off you're going to get beaten up. He'll let you go when he feels like you learned your lesson tho.

Linda Stein - 6'12", built like an amazon and skilled in both fencing and kickboxing. She will demolish you.

Sammy Lawrence - 6 feet exactly, human form was pretty slim but Prophet form bulked up considerably. Pre-Ink you could take him on, but he made up for lack of muscle with pure ferocity and wasn't opposed to fighting dirty (biting and scratching). Post-Ink he can easily lift a person off the ground one-handed, and he has no qualms cutting people down. Fight at your own peril.

Jack Fain - 5'4" as a human, quite chubby in build. Diminished to 3'5" as a Swollen Searcher. Pre-Ink, why would you hit Jack?! Post-Ink, what is wrong with you?! Congratulations, no matter what form you fight him in you're a monster!

Susie Campbell - 5'2" and chubby build, can pack a punch if she needs to. Grew to 6'2" and slightly slimmer build as Twisted Alice, and is a lot stronger than she looks. Pre-Ink, sure fight her but expect a broken nose, you jerk. Post-Ink, leave that to Allison maybe... Susie isn't a damsel in distress.

Norman Polk - 6'12" and build like an absolute beast, despite his age he could annihilate anyone in the studio if he felt like it. Grew up to 7'2" and bulked up even more as the Projectionist. Pre-Ink, he'll kick your ass and scold you afterwards, the shame burns worse than the bruises. Post-Ink, oh my god please be my guest and fight him! Fight him so you can fail miserably for my entertainment!

Allison Pendle - 5'9" and petit feminine build, very agile and energetic. 6'2" as Allison Angel, and somewhat more feisty. Pre-Ink, she'd talk you out of fighting her. Post-Ink, you better be good at sword fighting! She'll skewer you like a hecking kebab.

Thomas Connor - 6'2" stocky build and used to both hard labour and defending himself in a scrap. Diminished to 6 feet as Tom Boris, but has considerably enhanced strength. Pre-Ink, oh boy get ready for a walloping! Post-Ink, do you not see the gosh dang metal arm?! He'll demolish you faster than a vault door...

Wally Franks - 5'3" and stout build, a compact little unit! He's a typical lad from Brooklyn with a lot of questionable family members, and he will wrestle you to the ground if he doesn't trust you. You can take him on, but you'll not leave unscathed.

Shawn Flynn - 5'7" and slim built, but this man has the ire of the Irish on his side. As the Boss Searcher he's 6'8" at crawling height, do not test his patience! Pre-Ink, get ready for a brawl, expect it to be quite the show! Post-Ink, please leave him alone, he's just trying to defend his workshop. You can take him on but expect his fellow Searchers to be upset!

Grant Cohen - 5'11", used to be a little overweight before losing a tremendous amount of weight out of stress. He's diminished to 3'5" as a Searcher and somehow looks bony. Pre-Ink, what is WRONG with you?! Post-Ink, what is WRONG with you?! God you're just a monster, aren't you?

Buddy Lewek - 5'5" and slim, very bony build. Got up to 6 feet as a Boris and his strength has been enhanced as well. Pre-Ink, why the hell are you bullying this poor kid? Post-Ink, he'll break your hand and run for it. Just leave poor Buddy alone, he's suffered enough.

Dot - 5'6" pretty average build in general, slightly chubby. She dropped a projector on someone's head, and attacked a demon. If it means surviving she will fight dirty and maim you.

Abby Lambert - 5'9" and average build. Grew up to 6'7" as a Lost One, and is still as agile as she used to be. Pre-Ink, she can throw a good punch and she knows where to hit. Post-Ink, wow you definitely want to be a kebab! There's also the horrifying possessive monster following her around like her personal demon. For your own safety, do not fight Abby.

Doc Hackenbush - 6'3" very stocky and chubby build. Not much of a fighter though. Remained the same height as a Lost One, but appears a little chubbier. Pre-Ink, sedative time! Post-Ink, sedative time! He's a doctor, genius...

Bertrum Piedmont - 6'2" and an absolute unit of a man. God only knows how massive he is as the octopus ride. Pre-Ink, you can take him on mostly due to age advantage. Post-Ink, have fun! 50-50 with this guy!

Lacie Benton - 6'3" with an average build, strong arms and legs tho. Diminished to 6 feet as the Bendy Animatronic, but then again she's made of frigging metal. Pre-Ink, you can take her sure, her ulcer makes it a little easier on you. Post-Ink, if she's fully assembled, I'd run. She's made of metal dang it.

Emma LaMonte - 5'11" and built like a professional ballerina. Her legs are POWERFUL. As the Giant Bendy Hand she's absolutely massive. Pre-Ink, get ready for a mule kick from hell. Post-Ink, you might need a bigger boat and a bigger gun than a tommy gun. She's gonna drag you down into the inky depths.

[polar-stars]

☕️ + megumi and hojo?

(Give me a ☕️ + a character/ship and I’ll ramble off whatever thoughts and opinion I have about it)

Oho, interesting! Thanks for the ask!

Megumi Tadokoro

Megumi is a character I love and adore. She has given me no choice in that matter, lol. I cannot possibly dislike a character who portrays such a huge amount of real, genuine kindness. Adding to that, she's incredibly easy to relate to (I know that I am not the only one who does).

In my opinion Megumi has had some of the very best moments in all of Shokugeki, especially in it's earlier parts. The Shokugeki against Shinomiya in Trainings Camp is still my favorite battle in the whole manga after all. Her performance in the Autumn Election Premlins was also really satisfying and sweet to see. (Monkfish Preperation Scene Supremacy)

Tsukuda really did great on making Megumi a character that I really want to see succeed.....But that is where the problem comes in.

The problem is that Tsukuda struggles with the Show, Don't Tell-Rule from Central Arc onwards.

Pre-Central, Megumi's character development was solid in my opinion. It was believable and not too fast-paced. But once focus was shifted to Azami-Drama, Megumi and other characters had to take a little step back from the action. And Megumi's character arc started to stagnate.

Through Training Arc. Autumn Elections and Stagiares, Megumi had visibly gained some more confidence in herself and her stage fright problem from the beginning of the series was ceasing. However there was something missing: pay-off. Her character arc lacks proper pay-off.

You see, throughout all of Central Arc Megumi has not won any single fight on-screen. She was given one victory against Shigemichi Kumai but not even second of that fight was actually shown to the reader. But when it's time for a more detailed fight against Momo, she looses.

In her fight against Momo, the judges do find the time to point out tho that Megumi might hasn't been able to beat Momo however there is quote unquote ✨potential✨.

Thing is that the "potential"-thing has been getting old at that point. It felt very reminiscent to Megumi's fight against Ryo back in the Autumn Elections. Ryo was able to win, however it was made clear through multiple dialogue-lines that Megumi did give him a good fight, defying the expectations the audience had from her. So basically that fight was like: Yes, she lost now. But she is on the right path. There is a lot of potential.

The issue is that time has progressed ever since the AE and it was about time for us, the readers, to see that potential unfold.

But we never got that.

We get a lot, a lot of talking about Megumi's potential throughout Central Arc but never an actual showcase of it. And it does not get much better with BLUE Arc either (I mean, what do you expect from that trainwreck of an arc anyway?)

First off, despite all of her potential and her participation in the Regiment de Cuisine & the retaking of Totsuki as a whole Megumi somehow ends up with the lowest seat in the Neo-Elite 10??? And I'm just: Why??? Why is she the only explicitly ranked below Eizan & Nene (who got a massive downgrade) with everyone else far ahead? (Tho the Neo-Elite 10 Ranking as a whole is one confusing mess and I should probably stop trying to bring sense into it if I do not want to go insane, lol.)

The infamous Hot Spring Fight against a Noir is where we finally see Megumi shine a little on-screen (at least in the manga). And well....I enjoyed seeing that but...

It is still not the proper pay-off she deserves, I'm sorry. Because ultimately that Noir-Guy is some random One-Off we never saw again. And that's a problem.

This character had no time establishing himself to us. We barely know him.

To put it into perspective: Satoshi Isshiki beating Julio Shiratsu in the RdC did not feel like a very impressive thing. Because we have only come to know Julio in that one fight and had absolutely no judgement on how powerful he may be (not to mention, that he was mostly placed in a very ridiculous light). It would have been a lot more impressive to the reader had Satoshi won his later fight against Eishi Tsukasa, because Eishi is a character who we have spent a lot more time with and who has repeatedly been portrayed as absurdly skillful and an actual threat.

See what I mean? As much as I loved seeing Megumi being an absolute badass in that Hot Spring Saga...It was not the satisfying pay-off I want for her.

The few victories she gets are always against random One-Offs while her fights against the more important characters are always a loss for her. Case in point: BLUE. She gets anOTHER off-screened match against some Noir in Chinese clothes, whose name I won't bother looking up if he even has one, where all characters talk about how talented she is but once it's time for her to go up against big bad bitch Asahi she looses. And that sucks.

Not to forget the fact that Megumi always gets strung along to every big event but we never get much justification for her participation (other than the obvious Meta-Reason that she's a main character).

Think about it, her and Takumi got extremely lucky in Train Arc by having Rindou giving them a free pass just for the lulz, while everyone else got expelled. Then a good number of messy chapters later, Megumi and Takumi get invited into BLUE without even a shred of reasoning behind it. Why them? How random is it to invite the 1st, 7th and 10th seat but no one else? Meanwhile when BLUE Arc was first mentioned in the manga they told Jouichiro that it's actually extremely rare for a student in that age to get into this tournament. And Jouichiro was a 3rd year back then, what are those three 2nd Years doing there??

The anime at least addressed that by having Totsuki's students fight for the participation (I appreciated that, if only the episode that covers it wasn't so lazily done)

I'd have much less of an issue with that if they actually gave Megumi something to work with in that arc. But really in RDC and even more so in BLUE, she's mostly just there I feel. She barely really impacts the story meaningfully in both of these arcs, I feel.

And it's one big shame.

As I said, I love Megumi and Tsukuda set her up as someone who I wanted to see succeed and defy expectations. Her journey up till Central Arc was a lot of fun and very compelling but then it just...came to a halt. And her arc never got any real, proper closure I feel. She was instead pushed more and more into the background and she just did not deserve that, man.

Never forget that she is one of the mains after all and she should have been treated as one.

damn I did not think this would get this long ahhdhdf

Miyoko Hojo

When realising that Miyoko's speciality is Chinese cooking, I was super excited for her! I really love Chinese food and I've been waiting for it to be covered in Shokugeki up till that point.

I like Miyoko quite a lot, she's definitely one of my faves from the...well, I don't think "secondary" cuts it...the tertiary cast. Unfortunately we've got to see so painfully little of her.

I like that Megumi, in the most Megumi-ways, made her learn a lesson like "Feminism =/= You can not possibly get along with a man. Ever.", but it was also interesting to see acknowledgement of the inequality of men and women within the culinary business through Miyoko.

Miyoko's friendship with Megumi is something I adore and I would have very much liked more of it please. I enjoy the thought of Miyoko, this tough, unapproachable woman, having her face soften whenever this pure, little angel approaches her. Also 100% sure Miyoko would drop-kick whoever gives Megumi a funny look.

I also would have liked to see Miyoko interact more with Kuga, because I imagine it could have been a lot of fun. From the one, tiny interaction they've had I feel that Terunori actually respects Miyoko quite a bit. Which I think is interesting, because Terunori otherwise seems to enjoy bitching at people.

Honestly? If you ask me??? Miyoko should have been in the Regiment de Cuisine.

I'll never get over how she's shown in the audience, alongside Nao, smiling when the rebels are about to snatch victory. Like ahdhFJG, excuse me Ma'am what business do you have just watching??? You can not tell me that from what we've seen about Miyoko that she would not be up to kick Azami's ass out of Totsuki. I generally think it's stupid for the Rebels to go up against the Elites in a number even to them.

Azami. Explicitly told you guys. That you can bring more than that.

You were up against the Elite 10 Council.

YOU SHOULD HAVE ASKED ANYONE YOU CAN GET!

YOU SHOULD HAVE ASKED MIYOKO

(and Nao as well tbh)

(The Regiment de Cusine could have been a lot better to buy for me if the Rebels had shown up with more participants tbh but that's a different subject)

Anyways, as I said I wish we could have seen a lot more of Miyoko. But it just wasn't meant ot be :( I mean, when characters like Alice and Akira get pushed to the side, what chances does the tertiary cast have?

I'm at least glad that she is sort-off shown being the new president of the Chinese RS in Les Dessert 1? I like that for her.

But yes, ultimately...another criminally underused character. I look forward to write her being a cool mom in my fanfic tho.

[honeypirate]

Superpowers I Like

An ongoing list of superpowers i like. most from superpower wiki, the stuff in () are my thoughts, the rest from the website’s linked. sometimes powerlisting changes the names so if the link doesnt work let me know ad i’ll update. 

Let me know if you use any and tag me in the fics you write!

Geometric Physiology

Transform yourself or objects into any shape

Universal Irreversibility

Ability to render an action impossible to be stopped, blocked, manipulated, and reversed

Talpidae Physiology

can mimic/transform into talpids, including the moles, shrew moles, desmans, and other intermediate forms of small insectivorous mammals.

Earth Weaponry

can create or wield weaponry with power over earth, which grants the user a wide variety of earth-based abilities

Transcendent Demonic Mage Physiology

The power to use the abilities of demon of godly arcane powers.

Tooth Fairy Physiology

Can transform into and perform acts the tooth fairy does. (Rip out the teeth of your enemies. control every tooth in the room. could also be strengthened to control bone? maybe?)

Psychic Food Manipulation

The ability to manipulate psychic food/edible substances. (technically, animals are edible, people technically.. like this has so much room for creativity)

Contact Force Defiance

can ignore contact forces, forces that require contact with something, like a surface of the ground or an object. They can defy contact forces and not need to make contact with the surface, or interact with objects from a distance without touching them. Like magnets that don’t want to touch.

Life Connection

User is connected to any/all life and living things, so that as long as they exists life does as well. This allows them to have both an emotional and spiritual link to every form of life, so if the target feels pain or is injured all living things would feel the same pain and/or possibly gain the same wounds as the user. If the user ever dies or is killed then life itself may cease to exist as well. Reader needs a bodyguard??

Fine Interaction

The user can interact with anything that that is microscopic, no matter how small it may be, allowing the user to interact with them as if they were objects or surfaces, possibly even causing macroscopic effects if skilled. This can include viruses, diseases, microbes, atoms, molecules, particles, superstrings, etc. reader is a heart surgeon.

Snake Den 

The user can project numerous snakes from their body to eject poison into the target, project snakes as projectiles to attack or otherwise send them to the target.

Chi Manipulation

The user can create, shape, and manipulate chi. By learning to harness this inner latent energy, they can gain superhuman capabilities and use them in cases of extreme combat. Some examples include physically manifesting all of their inner strength and unleashing it through sheer force of will

Dimensional Storage

The user can put items/beings into a separate dimension for safekeeping and can summon them back with relative ease.(I really like this one)

Liquid Transmutation

User can transform any/all liquids, whether organic or inorganic, into any other fluid/liquid and change a liquids inherent properties such as turning water into acid or even make something like soda poisonous. Any liquids transformed by this power would have all the properties of the liquid they become.

Replication

User can instantly and perfectly replicate themselves and/or targets which can be objects or living beings, numerous times, while usually being able to recombine the clones. Most users have both of these abilities (if subconsciously), copying their clothes/equipment along with their body. Original target will normally be able to maintain control over all copies.

Reactive Adaptation

Users can either instantly develop powers or abilities to deal with threats or their bodies dynamically learn from experience. Depending on the user's control of the power or genetic structure, the reactive effects can be permanent or temporary.

Self-Sustenance

Users physical needs are greatly reduced or completely removed. These needs include air/breathing, sleep/rest, food, drink, bodily evacuations, shelter from environmental effects and their lack (heat/cold, dryness/wetness), etc. The user is also able to stay immobile without the normal effects this would have.

Technology Manipulation

User can create, shape, and manipulate technology and technological constructs, computers, robots, hardware, and other devices that can be termed as "technology." Manifested as a special form of electrical/telekinetic manipulation, a special form of "morphing" which allows physical interaction with machines, or even a psychic ability that allows mental interface with computer data.

User can control the flow of intricate machinery, and assemble or disengage their programming at will and operate most technology at distance. A variation of Electricity Manipulation, they control specific electrons and instructs them which items to engage or disengage and may be able to use the electric impulses to gently control smaller metal parts

Matter Ingestion

The user can eat any substance without harmful effects, regardless of what they consume. They can consume matter in any form - solid, liquid or gas.

(maybe what they eat gives them energy, maybe like how Natsu can eat flames?)

Persuasion

can compel people by speaking, the victims are unable to disobey; the seemingly cogent commandment is far too compelling. At a high level, users can persuade people into hurting/killing themselves or even flip around sense of logic, but can never cause victims to achieve what they are not capable of. 

(maybe user has to work up and strengthen it to be able to persuade peoples to do bigger things)

Anatomical Liberation

User can split their own body apart into pieces and control the said pieces however they wish, by levitating them away from the user's main body and using them as they were connected to the user.

User is immune to cutting and being slashed because they can just pull their bodies back together again. They can also remove their own organs without dying and will neither bleed to death nor die if their brain or heart is removed.

Omnilingualism.

User can speak, write, understand and communicate in any language, including computer codes, languages they have never been heard before, sign language (even lip-reading), illegible words, and backwards speech and writing with little or no training. The user may even communicate with non-human animals or read body language.

Item duplication

user is able to mimic and replicate the objects of others around oneself, and be able to use those objects as one's own.

Darkness Manipulation

User can create, shape and manipulate darkness and shadows. By itself, darkness is mostly used to cloud everything into total darkness, but by accessing a dimension of dark energy it can be channeled to a variety of effects, both as an absence of light and a solid substance: one can also control and manipulate the beings that exist there, create and dispel shields and areas of total darkness, create constructs and weapons, teleport one's self through massive distances via shadows, etc.

Density Manipulation

User can manipulate density, which is defined as mass per unit of volume. This allows them to alter solidity, change the size of substances, create or destroy matter/mass in a volume, change inertial resistance (mass), make things intangible, either strengthen or weaken gravity, concentrate or expand matter, or create pressure differences in a fluid (gas, liquid, plasma) to induce a current and possibly use it to move solids.

Some users might even be able to control electrical charge density, which is the amount of electric charge per unit volume. This would, in turn, enable them to manipulate electromagnetic fields. Control over population density might also be possible for some users as well.

Luck

The user is gifted with an automatic and continuous supply of good luck, most have no control over this power as things considered "lucky" randomly and unexpectedly happens to them despite any predestined fate or logical reason. Ergo, nothing bad will happen or if it does, their power will sort it out no matter how impossible the situation is or how high the odds are against them, allowing the user to always be in complete context in whatever situation they are, be free to do as they please without consequences, and be untouched and ineffective to the laws of causality.

All aspects of user's life improve drastically: work, social, romantic, personal, financial, school, and basically life as a whole would become easier, happier, and would excel altogether.

Paralysis Inducement

Users can immobilize the target completely or partially, causing them to be left without movement and sensation. Making motor functions and muscle movement unavailable, the victim may freeze on the spot or crumple to the ground.

Pain Infliction

Pain Infliction is the ability to inflict horrible pain on others with the mind. It is triggered by pointing one's hand at a target, who will be overwhelmed with pain. The pain is described as a thousand tiny blades stabbing the brain. The pain will instantly vanish once the user loses concentration.

Prehensile Muscles

User can make their muscles stretch/extend and hold/manipulate objects like an extra limb. (could be like tendrils)

Liquid Mimicry

user can morph their body into a liquid state, is made up of or can transform their body completely into liquid substances. A user's transformed form is anatomically identical to their normal form, aside of being made of liquid, in which case it contains all to organs and is somewhat vulnerable to attacks. Alternately the user can transform into homogeneous matter, without any part of their form being more important than the other.

Animal Morphing

User with this ability either is or can transform into animals, whether partially or completely, as well as use the abilities, traits and appearance/physiology of animals by rearranging their own DNA structure. They are able to transform into animals that exist, alien animals and/or animals that are extinct, such as Dinosaurs.

User may have this ability from an empty genetic code, allowing them to accept any form from which they have a DNA sample, others may be able to alter their form mentally and change just by seeing and mimicking animal features.

Life-Force Absorption

The user can absorb life-force/energy, vitality and health, while removing it from the source, into their body and use it in various ways, gaining some form of advantage, either by enhancing themselves, gaining the drained power, using it as power source etc., either temporarily or permanently.

Weapon Hands

User can transform parts of their body to form a weapon of their choice onto their hands and forearms, possibly their biceps, triceps, and shoulders.

Vision Manipulation

The user has complete control over the vision of oneself and others. They can enhance, reduce or remove them temporarily or permanently, protect them from being overwhelmed, cause the target to see things that aren't there or prevent them from seeing things that are, cause/remove sensory ailments, etc.

Tactile Teleportation

User can teleport objects and/or beings through physical contact, the user can transfer them to any location they desire as long their in physical contact with the object/being

Disease Manipulation 

The user can create, manipulate, shape, transform, cause/heal, etc. all forms of diseases, including their severity, contagiousness, methods of spreading, etc. They can control the organisms that spread diseases, including germs, bacteria, virus, or other pathogens on a cellular level, including bacteriophages, microorganisms (microscopic organisms), retroviruses, cells that abnormally grow to make cancerous tumors and cysts, and pathogens that produce genetic mutations

Morality Manipulation

The user can manipulate morality, making people ethically good or immorally evil by psychically kindling the targets’ minds so that they succumb to the voice of truth or to the urge of sin. The victim may feel the calling of the Almighty or some other cosmic force of good or succumb to all inner sins. The effect may expire, but that may be years after the evocations.

Dream Manipulation

User can create, shape, enter and manipulate the dreams of oneself and others, including modifying, suppressing, fabricating, influencing, manifesting, sensing, and observing dreams as well as nightmares, daydreams, etc., possibly including past ones. They can produce and modify dreams, bestow nightmares or lucid dreaming, entrap people in REM, and promote spiritual/emotional healing within dreams.

In some cases, user's power extends to the real world, such as wounds inflicted on a sleeping victim, healed damage (mental or physical) affecting the physical form, and other wise blurring the line between waking and dream. They may be able to pull someone from the waking world into the dream world or brings people/things from the dream world into the waking world.

[ranmanjuu]

Me again sorry if I’m spamming can request how the boys react to going to the future with mc be everywhere’s in lockdown thank you and stay safe love you~ (๑ゝω╹๑)

there’s probably a shit ton of them hcs around these parts and i feel like i’m just re-wording a lot of things so like,, ahaha i’m sorry. also the character cast is u-t forces cause ngl we have a lot of oda forces request previously and the coming requests dw just showing love to my kasugayama boys

—shingen:

the moment you stepped into the good ol’ modern times, the first thing you realized was that there’s a pandemic going on and with shingen being immunocompromised, it’s surely a danger more than ever. without a word, you quickly drag him into your apartment first thing’s first.

you quickly told him to take a shower (to which he’d probably jokingly invite you in, but to be fair, he doesn’t really know how bathtubs and shower heads are used). you didn’t have men’s clothing, not for his size so to say, so you just settled with your big, stretchy jackets you had.

after explaining the situation, you did consider going to the hospital for his treatment,, on one hand, if shingen doesn’t do it, he’ll. . .you know. and if he does, there’s a chance that he could get infected (with hospitals being a breeding ground for the virus). 

in the end, you decided to do it.

even after that, you were always careful with things like going out, mostly you taking care of the shopping and everything. you kept reminding him to wash his hands, social distance, etc.

and frankly, while he understands social distancing, he doesn’t like it. he just wants to hug and kiss his deity lover! prepare for the man to just recite poems so damn dramatically for this.

(^ this includes the amount of pickup lines increasing by a lot. the fact that he can now search some up from google doesn’t help.)

there’s a lot of things you do in quarantine, and you’ve found that the amount of carpentry has increased significantly prior to this.

said carpentry ranges from tables and chairs, to small decoration carvings of birds and the likes. the smell of wood now wafts in the air more than ever.

you’ve now replaced yukimura for his dieting of sweets. his illness may be gone, but teeth problems could still arise! but shingen can have some modern candy once in a while, as a treat. 

as for the reaction of the future in general—shingen finds it so, so warming how relatively peaceful it is compared to the sengoku. yes, protests are happening and there’s practically a new type of war going on (he most certainly advocates for human rights, etc), but it’s a step to a new light. a world he wants.

—kenshin:

you’ve had conversations of the future before—most of them on a,,, bizzare note, with the topic being on swords and war (or lack thereof), etc. a silent agreement was made between you two to not have kenshin be in the future since he’s missing one of the things he ‘needs to live with’ (them being war, sake, and you).

but a lot of improv had to be done when the wormhole was much more stubborn and managed to pull you through.

right after you figured out what happened, a security guard immediately came and told you to wear a mask (considering it’s a must). you had to haul kenshin back to your house before he attacks the guard with his sword.

after cleaning the two of you from any virus, you began running things over to him about the future. aaaand he’s already thinking about keeping you in your house by any means so you don’t get caught by it.

but you managed to convince him otherwise, you did have to go shopping and the thought of kenshin doing it with all the foreign technology around him made you sweat nervously.

no, kenshin, sake isn’t a need but you will buy it for him cause he won’t be able to survive, you feel.

you thought a peaceful modern world was bad enough for kenshin to reside in, ohoho, wait until you realize he can’t even go outside and fight sasuke and all that jazz.

a thought crossed your mind to learn how to duel and fight using mop sticks but he shot down that thought.

in the meantime, most of your days were spent in the garden with his sea of bunnies (how they got there, you don’t know) and mostly tending to them so they don’t contract the virus (kenshin almost flipped when you told him that rabbits could do that).

and by night, you spent it by looking out to the city skies (but the light from the buildings doesn’t hit like the stars do) and drinking sake.

he’d also be against social distancing, but—unsurprisingly—only to you. after a while that rule goes out the window as he cuddles you to death from being touch-starved.

i feel like he’d be interested in the past (or future, to him) wars just because. he’d read up about the wars from all sorts of places. and sometimes, you’d catch him with a deadly smile and say, “that sounds like a great idea, i should wage one like that.”

you had to remind him no, you can’t start a war cause you want to.

—yukimura:

he’d flip straight up by the idea of there being a pandemic in your time. you never talked about this when you told him you came from the future!

he’d probably groan at first with the thought of having to hole up for a long time, but he’d quickly understand. it’s for the benefit of the immunocompromised and the old, he’d like to help by following the rules.

besides, he has you. he’ll cope.

at first, his plan was for you to just let him do all the work during lockdown, like going out and stuff. he was non-chalant, if a bit stubborn.

until you mention groceries.

you start firing him questions, do you know what we need? do you know how much of it we need? or which one is which at all?

he shuts up after that.

yukimura will definitely do those workout things on youtube, and you’ll probably be roped into it. rip to you but you’re gettin’ buff during these lazy times.

small, silly arguments would most likely be the norm for you. it’s a bit of spicy bickering back and forth, you both find it amusing and it’s a way to stimulate the brain, no matter how stupid the topic is.

it can range from if mugwort mochi is better than chestnut dumplings, and you’ve even gone out to search for light topics to have small debates over.

occasionally, he’d invite you outside to watch the skies. the colorful lights from the tall buildings kind of reminds you of the loud fireworks during the festival back in the sengoku—only if they became stars instead.

much like shingen, yukimura is thankful of the positive changes in the future. horrible things may have stayed, but as long as there are people advocating for a fair and peaceful world, he can spend his days beside you.

—sasuke:

as any situation, sasuke was prepared as ever. the second you went to the modern days, he pulled out a spare mask (dw it’s clean) from his pocket and handed it to you. remembering the rule of mandatory masks, you quickly put it on.

you couldn’t really have a discussion about time-travel in the open, so you both went to your apartment.

sasuke is definitely well-versed in the virus, dumping most everything he knows unto you to better arm you with it yourself.

somehow, he could calculate how much groceries and overall shopping in any timeframe. a month, two, etc. so you find yourself bringing him out shopping with you.

since he’s now in the modern world, the amount of him being holed up kinda increases. if he’s learnt so much from a youtube tutorial, imagine the absolute machine he’d be by the end of it.

yeah he’s that guy who learns 45 million skills.

sasuke might seem unbothered by having to keep distance from you, but he really isn’t. you can tell; by the way his lips tighten, or the way his eyebrows furrow sometimes.

would regularly remind you to wash your hands, and would always say to take a bath each time you go home from the outside. if you’re ever sick, he’ll somehow have the perfect medicine ready.

you binge watch shows all the time, it’s another form of bonding cause you two already know about them. you’d spend nights on the couch with a blanket and snacks, discussing about things ranging from theories to crack cotent.

you really wouldn’t trade it for the world.

—yoshimoto:

honestly, yoshimoto isn’t even much interested in the future. mostly just how far art’s gotten (and trust me, it’s gotten so far). such is the situation when the wormhole caught you two.

he probably got sidetracked from the first art he could see (probably street art in this scenario) after you barely identified you went to the future.

again you must haul this pretty man after being told off by a security guard for not wearing a mask.

your biggest problem is probably his massive fascination with modern art. endless hours were used to have a talk that, no, he can’t go to an exhibit right now.

so you improvise.

you gave him a hand-me-down phone, or just share a laptop, and teach him the concept of digital art, along with how to operate certain social medias so he can browse around.

downside is he is currently—and unknowingly— planning to get you broke by commissioning artists. also he may or may not’ve been doing posting questionable things on his accounts (you really shouldn’t’ve given him one,,)

and so to fix the problem created to solve a problem, you decided to take it into your own hands.

popping out all the drawing supplies you’ve ever had, you began to doodle anything and everything, every day. and each one, you’d show it off to yoshimoto like a child to their parent.

and each time, he still looks at them so lovingly, no matter if it could hypothetically be classified as chicken scratches. as long as you make it, in his mind, it’ll be something worth cherished for.

but your strong suit has always been stitching, so you start a lot of projects of art on clothing. it counts as the one above.

oh—you know those pretty cloth masks? you now have about 100 of these at least, courtesy to yoshimoto.

[scope-dogg]

Super Beast Machine God Dancouga: Final Thoughts

“It’s complicated” can be a big of a copout when you’re weighing up whether to recommend something or not. In the case of this show and its trio of follow-up OVAs, it genuinely is kind of complicated. There was a lot I already liked about Dancouga even before I started watching - several of its soundtracks have had pride of place in my music playlists for years now, while the robot itself has been one of my favourite super robot designs for just as long, that being mostly fuelled by the machine’s status as a long-time Super Robot Wars stalwart. The same series made me a fan of the head pilot Shinobu Fujiwara and his trademark warcry of “YATTE YARUZE.” That said, I already went in with my expectations tempered by other opinions I’ve seen the generally weren’t quite so favourable as my expectations might have been.

Well, now I’ve seen it. In many ways, I really did enjoy it - the music is even better in its proper context, it’s cool to see where all the moves that Dancouga busts out in SRW came from, and Shinobu and the rest of the cast are as entertaining as I might have imagined in the primary material. Above all else, it surprised me by throwing in some ideas that were pretty original by the standards of its time, and some that are unique even compared to the rest of the genre as a whole. I really did enjoy a good amount of genuine enjoyment from the experience.

That doesn’t mean, however, that I’m going to recommend it. In fact, I just straight up don’t.

You see, there’s a lot of bad to go with the good in the show’s original anime run, to the degree that calling it “a mixed bag” would be too disingenuous. A promising start with some pretty great animation and production values quickly gives way to a level of quality that ranges from mediocre to shockingly poor, not only by today’s standards but those of the time. I don’t know the behind-the-scenes story of the show’s production, but it’s blatantly obvious that they found themselves out of money hilariously quickly, and they end up limping along on a shoestring budget. Stock footage abuse, animation errors, and just cheap and shoddy-looking artwork in general pile up until the result is a production that looks genuinely amateurish at times.

It’s a shame, because it’s a disservice to a show that’s actually fairly interesting in a lot of ways. The premise of Earth being invaded by an alien empire isn’t new, but typically shows of this setup from this era of anime follow a predictable pattern - a squad of hot-blooded youngsters is promptly assembled, thrown into the show’s resident giant robot, and sent off to fight off the aliens for as many formulaic monster-of-the-week style episodes as necessary. Here things aren’t so simple - there is the requisite squad of plucky youngsters, but it takes time for the team to properly assemble and to master their machine - in fact, they don’t even combine into Dancouga until the show’s halfway in. That’s actually more interesting than it sounds, because it means that the individual machines that make up Dancouga get a lot more screentime than they otherwise would in a show like Combattler V, for instance, which is cool because each of the four different ones has a vehicle form, a bestial animal form, and a humanoid configuration. 

It also allows for the setting to be more interesting - humanity’s war against the Muge Zorbados invaders is more interesting than conflicts of this nature tend to be in old super robot shows. Instead of sending one gimmicky monster or robot at a time, the invasion comes in force, and the enemy takes over much of the world while the heroes of the Cyber Beast Force are still building themselves up. The war ends up being more of an asymmetrical war of resistance involving all of mankind rather than hinging solely on duels between the protagonists and the monster of the week. The invaders themselves are more interesting than usual as well, as the egos of each of the invading generals clash with one another. By far the most interesting villain is Shapiro Keats, a fellow member of the academy that the leads Shinobu, Sara, Masato and Ryo attended, whose megalomania leads him to betray mankind and defect to the aliens in a bid to elevate his own power and prestige and fulfil his own delusions of godhood. A lot of the challenges that the CBF face in the early parts of the show come more from Shapiro’s treachery and clever planning rather than gimmicky alien technologies.

However, while it has interesting ideas, the show never seems to be able to pull them off to their full potential. Ironically it’s Dancouga’s long-awaited and heavily-hyped arrival that heralds the death of much of the interesting elements to the story. In addition to being the biggest casualty of the show’s animation budget, Dancouga’s not implemented in a very interesting way in the show’s original anime run - whereas before battles were a test of the protagonists’ skill and strategy, Dancouga’s overpowering nature trivialises much of the action. It doesn’t help that its repertoire is limited to punching, shooting lasers, and on special occasions shooting a really big laser. As a result, the show loses momentum as it enters its final stages, as Dancouga just bulldozes over Muge Zorbados’ armies. It’s also around this time that the writers lose touch with what makes Shapiro Keats an interesting villain. He was compelling because of his sheer lack of redeeming features and total megalomania, yet more and more focus gets pushed onto his past romance with Sara, the show’s female co-protagonist. It seems like we’re meant to sympathise with him and her because of this lovers-to-anime arc, but Shapiro never ends up being anything less than a vile piece of shit with no redeeming features that leaves you boggling at what Sara could have ever possibly seen in him, and rolling your eyes whenever she’s shown to be struggling with having to fight him. Ultimately, the plot culminates in what must have been an awfully unsatisfying cliffhanger at the time.

However, that wasn’t the show’s real end, because it went on to spawn several OVAs. The first is Requiem for Victims, which portrays the final confrontation with Muge Zorbados. This is an immediate improvement in many ways, getting many things right that the show got badly wrong. First of all, the animation is far superior, as you might expect from an OVA - the difference is beyond night and day. Furthermore, it gives Dancouga some more interesting weapons and attacks to work with, and explores more of what makes it special as a machine beyond just being big and powerful. In spite of this, it also features the most fraught and exciting fights that it ever takes part in. Overall, it’s a massive improvement.

The peak, however, is probably the next OVA in line, God Bless Dancouga - taking place some time after Requiem, it’s got the best production values of anything with the Dancouga named attached. The story isn’t anything to write home about if I’m being honest, but it’s not bad either - if all you want is to see the characters interact with one another, then it ticks all the boxes. The animation is absolutely superb the whole way through, and while Dancouga doesn’t actually have a great deal of screentime, it makes it count big time when it does - chances are if you saw it use a cool attack in an SRW game, it got used first in this OVA.

I was really hoping that the OVAs could go three for three and pull off a great conclusion that’d make the time spent worth it, but that sadly wasn’t the case. Blazing Epilogue is a 4-parter that starts off promisingly plot-wise, but the production values are for the most part not up to the standards set by God Bless Dancouga or even Requiem for Victims - it’s not as bad as the original series, but it’s not especially good by the standards of 1990 when it was released. Worse is the fact that while the plot’s pretty good in episodes 1 through 3, it lets itself down for the finale, wrapping things up in an abrupt way that ended up making the whole exercise feel fairly pointless. It’s a total anticlimax and a weak way to wrap things up.

Of course, that wasn’t the absolute end, as the show got a modern sequel in the shape of Dancouga Nova in the 2000s, but I’m saving that for another day - it features all-new characters and is by all accounts very different from the original. As for the original Dancouga saga, like I said to open - it’s complicated. Personally, I think I enjoyed myself more than I didn’t - but I also don’t think that’d hold true for most people. I came to this already endeared to the robot, characters, and certain aspects of its presentation to the degree, and that helped me to power through a lot of the rockier moments in this so that I could see them in their original incarnation. For other people who aren’t super robot addicts like me, I just think the lows are too low and the highs aren’t high or numerous enough to warrant it being worth most people’s time.

[xbellaxcarolinax]

Forging A Heart (Ivar the Boneless) 19- Ragnarok

Pairings: Ivar x Artemis (OFC)

Word Count: 9090

Warnings: Violence in this one. Bad description of battle.

AN: This is a super long chapter. I’m so sorry. If you guys prefer shorter ones then I have no problem splitting them, just let me know. I also think this chapter is both boring and intense at the same time. You guys can judge. Hope you enjoy!

18- Protection

...

Ivar had always been a light sleeper, so it was no surprise to him that the smallest of noises made his eyes crack open in the dimly lit chambers. Recently, sleep came to him easily, despite the aches. After a long day of constant strategizing and training for the battle to come, slipping underneath the furs on a cool night was just enough to lull him into a dreamless slumber.

He never had a problem sleeping alone. It had allowed him to be alert if need be, but now, laying next to a much welcomed heat, Ivar had no problems drifting away, so long as Artemis was beside him.

Ivar made no movements, but his eyes scanned the perimeter of the chamber out of habit. There was a table with parchments littering its surface, a large changing screen, a fireplace not in use, and some candles scattered about to illuminate the area. Nothing seemed out of place, and nothing seemed to hide in the shadows. He looked over at Artemis who had her back towards him, and he decided nothing was out of the ordinary.

He shifted under the sheets, drawing closer to the woman beside him, his eyes slowly drooping until he heard it again. It was more distinguishable as a whimper, so low, yet loud enough for his trained ears to detect.

Ah. He should've known.

Artemis was having another nightmare.

He'd seen first hand how often they came to her at night. While his sleep had always been limited due to the constant pain in his legs, her sleep was always interrupted by terrors of some kind.

He runs a finger down the center of her back before gently placing his hand on her hip. He didn’t consider himself to be the first choice of comfort, but it was a start.

It seemed to soothe her for a moment as she stopped her whimpers. Satisfied, Ivar curves around her, careful with shifting his legs. He then moves his hand into the mass of her dark hair, fingers gently caressing her scalp in gentle motions.

This was oddly domestic.

But it was nice. He finds himself devoted to her, like a husband would to a wife.

Ivar bites his lips, suddenly aware of his heightened sensitivity. He felt he was a bigger mess of emotions when it came to Artemis, more so after their first night together. He knew who he was, embittered and rage filled. Such angry feelings within and yet, he melted at the sight of her.

No matter, there needn't be justification for things such as love or feelings or anything that relates to matters of the heart. Only the gods knew, and Ivar was fine with that.

He continues to gaze at her, his lazy eyes mapping out her small form.

Suddenly she turns over in her fitful sleep, facing him now with arched brows and eyes screwed shut. Her lips were tightly sealed, set in a frown.

Ivar sighs, carefully sitting up against the soft pillows. He places the back of his hand against her cheek, gently rubbing a knuckle across her smooth skin soothingly. Then he runs a finger over her brow in an attempt to smooth them down and ease her tension.

He frowns.

He had caused her such strife. He didn't need to be told what plagued her mind. Behind her lids he knew she replayed the images of blood, death and destruction. Subjects that he couldn't be bothered with ate away at her soul. Artemis was no fighter. She was a Christian, what he saw as an everyday occurrence was utterly disturbing for her.

Artemis exhales roughly through her nose before her eyes flutter open, blinking to clear her vision.

"Another nightmare?" He asks softly, smiling when she nuzzles her face against his hand almost instantly.

"They're like a plague," She groans, "I'm sorry for waking you."

"It's fine." Ivar tugs her towards him, having her cupped under his arm, her head laying on his chest. He could feel her lashes skimming over his skin when she blinked.

Oh yes, this was incredibly domestic, and extremely different then what he was used to, but he wouldn't change it for the world, not now, not ever.

"We've done this to you, all of us," Ivar mutters quietly, absentmindedly playing with her hair that draped over the two of them. She was silent, so silent in fact, that Ivar thought she might have dozed off again, as her breathing was steady.

"Some nights are better than others." She says, lazily dragging her finger across his bare chest, following the thick lines of his most recent tattoo. The swirls formed an image she was only just beginning to understand. She takes a breath as if she wanted to say more, but decides to settle into the calm silence instead. Ivar squeezes her closer, enjoying her warmth. She would talk to him when she was ready.

His eyes scan the light that filtered through the cracks between the fur drapes. It was daybreak, and in about an hour, preparations would begin for training.

"We have to leave soon." She mutters, looking up at him with a pout.

They were both still getting used to this, such intimacy and closeness. Her heart sang for Ivar, no matter how much her mind had been against it, but she willingly ignored it.

Ivar was shy at times, a side that was nothing compared to his war like demeanor. He skimmed his rough fingers over the soft skin of her exposed arm, humming in agreement.

"We don't have to leave just yet." He proposes, turning his body to fully face her, eyes glimmering with silent requests. His timidness certainly had its limits.

Artemis smiles up at him as he wraps strong arms around her. He captures her lips in a kiss that erases all rational thoughts and bad dreams.

Perhaps they could stay in bed a little while longer.

...

Vestfold was unpleasant.

King Harald's kingdom specialized in fishing, mostly whaling. In fact, upon setting eyes on its docks, one could not miss the skeletal form of a giant whale that was made to loom above them menacingly. The smells that lingered about were horrific, and the blood of the massive sea creatures dampened the soil in large puddles.

Harald was a contradiction of what Vestfold was like. He was a delight, throwing feasts without reason and talking of his brother often. He was the brightness that illuminated his kingdom, and if they were to be stationed there for some time, then it was only fair to make the best of it.

It was the forests where Artemis loved to reside as it was lush and green, so much green that it had her drifting off into other magical worlds. It was a place of shade in the summer heat, a tranquil, peaceful area with nothing but the birds singing and the cicadas chirping in the treetops.

Archery was practiced everyday for a couple of hours in the early morning before the sun was at its highest point in the sky. The skill came easily to her, and she learned a fair amount, but she was nowhere near as skilled as Hvitserk, and not even close to Ivar, but it became a routine for her to take her lessons with either one of the brothers, and both were merciless in their training.

There would be no private lesson that morning. Ivar decided to train with their most skilled archer's as they would have the duty to protect both himself and Harald on the battlefield. Artemis personally knew some of the warriors in Ivar's company, large and fierce with even larger bows in their hands. Those from Vestfold were equally as fearsome, their women tall with kohl streaked eyes. They emulated their beautiful queen who stood with them, though she lacked a bow in her hands or any form of weapon. She had sad eyes ever since the announcement of her pregnancy.

Harald and Hvitserk were out training with the other men and women in physical combat, along with Bishop Heahmund. Although Ivar is skilled with his axe, his specialty was as a bowman.

Ivar slowly walks in front of the crowd of archers, his slight limp and his crutch in perfect view for all to see. His eyes held the haughtiness of being in command, of having total control over the warriors.

"Archers!" He yells, and all the men and women of the first row immediately raised their bows, strings pulled back tightly and hands grazing their chests in practiced movements. Artemis obediently follows suit, raising her arms with the heavy bow in her hands, her muscles protesting the movement.

"Hold your positions!" Ivar booms, eyes already meeting with his lover. He smirked as he always did when she was particularly annoyed with him, and he knew she was.

In their lessons, when they weren't off giving each other gentle kisses under the shade of the trees, Ivar would always repeatedly say that warriors are made to hold their positions for longer periods of time during times of war.

She absolutely hated it.

"Straighten your posture, it'll send the arrow flying faster at a farther distance." Astrid suddenly appears at her side. The queen places her hands on Artemis's tense shoulders, forcibly smoothing them down. Artemis knew that Harald's queen had recognized her. Lagertha had always made Astrid keep an eye on her.

Artemis takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulders off and pulling the bow string as far back as she could, despite the ache in her shoulders and the tightness in her chest.

"Hold your position." Astrid urges, sensing the discomfort she felt being surrounded by capable beings. Artemis's arm trembled from the pressure of the string as it did these past weeks of training. She turned her eyes to Ivar, who flashed her a grin as he walked off to the side of their flanks.

"Loose!" Ivar yells, and immediately arrows whizzed in the air, straight to their destinations. Artemis didn’t hesitate. She took a deep breath, letting her fingertips release the string, watching her arrow fly. It hits its mark and she beamed, a grin growing large on her face.

"Seems like the blacksmith will make for a shieldmaiden. Will you be fighting?" Astrid smiles at her, but before she could answer, Ivar grunts over to them with every step, brows arched in displeasure. His hawk ears didn’t miss a thing and he didn't trust the new queen.

"Absolutely not," He interjects, placing an arm about her shoulders, bringing her closer before instructing the next row of archers to shoot at the distant targets. Astrid crosses her arms, unamused.

"I've seen her with a hammer Ivar."

"And?"

"Would she not make a good warrior? I think she would." Ivar sucks his teeth, dismissing the comment.

"Perhaps in the future," He says, looking down at his new love from his great height, "But not in this battle."

"Have I no say?" Artemis feigns annoyance, crossing her arms as he quickly bends to plant a kiss to her brow.

Astrid was taken back. She'd been around Ivar long enough to know his dark nature, but next to the foreign girl he was a stranger.

"You think I would dare lose you when I just got a hold of you?" Ivar answers with a scoff, nodding at Astrid before turning them away from her. He orders the large crowd of archers to depart. They were ready, but Artemis was not.

"I will not lose you." He tells her, letting her go in order to summon his chariot, but she grabs his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

"Am I to lose you?" She questions.

"No," He replies with a grin, "The gods would not allow it."

...

The blacksmith's forge in Vestfold was nothing compared to York's. It was quaint, and ran by a family that reminded her too much of her own. A father, his wife, and their little boy and girl.

It made a knot form in her throat that made it difficult to swallow. The nostalgia ate away at her very core and she constantly had to blink back the tears of fond memories that she kept nestled in the back of her mind. Perhaps all the gods of the world did not intend for her to have a family.

She was set on the task of making arrowheads, and her nimble fingers were immediately at work, forcibly shaping the iron into deadly pointed edges. Working in silence beside her was the little boy of the family, making the shafts of wood to attach the arrowheads to.

His father and the other men worked to keep the fire going as they repaired whatever weapons needed attention.

The little boy hums to himself, not paying her any mind as his small hands attempt to shave down thin branches with his tiny blade. He struggled, his hand unable to pass it over the jagged surface of the branch. He grunts in frustration, tossing the branch and blade aside before crossing his arms stubbornly.

Artemis stops her sharpening, turning to look at the little boy with a smile.

"Here," She places down her own tools in favor of picking up his, "Like this." She flicks her wrist at an angle, showing him how to carve down the branch in a steadier motion, "It's like peeling a carrot." She tells him.

"I don't peel carrots," He pouts, "My mother and sister do when they cook."

"Well, if they can manage, so can you," She jokes, handing him back the small blade and branch, "Go on, try again." The boy hesitates before grasping the items, and after a few minutes of him trying and her watching, he gets the hang of it.

"See? You got it."

"Mhm!" The boy hums in glee with a tiny smile, turning his large eyes to hers, "Thank you." Artemis smiles, ruffling the boy's hair.

"Are you from England?" He then asks her, his tongue poking out as he worked, "You don't sound like us."

"No," She tells him, "I come from an island in the south." He turns to her again, his eyes twinkling in curiosity.

"Really?" That peaked his interest, "Farther than England?"

"Much farther," She voices with exaggeration in her tone, "Much hotter, and full of life." The little boy blinks up at her in awe.

"And how did you come to Vestfold?"

"Him." Artemis points out towards the bustling activity of the village, her finger following Ivar's hobbling form as he practiced swinging Heahmund's large sword.

"Ivar the Boneless!" The boy exclaims.

"Mhm."

They both watch on as Ivar approaches a whale suspended in the air by its tail, ready to be used for its supply of oil. In one swift movement he swings the sword, slicing the whale cleanly in half with a maddening grin on his face. He was obsessed with the blade, turning it round in his calloused grip. Artemis watches the blood and entrails spill out from the whale in disgust before looking down at the nameless boy.

He didn't shy away from the sight, though his little brows curved slightly at the scene.

"Caldur!" A woman's voice calls out, "Caldur, let the men finish the work, come help with the animals." The little boy groans, releasing his tools with a small grunt. Hopping off the chair he quickly turns to wave at her before running off.

Heahmund passes the boy, watching him run towards his mother before taking the seat beside Artemis. She doesn't say anything, not noticing him much as she was lost in thought, her eyes still watching Ivar handle the sword as he began a conversation with King Harald.

"Have you figured it out yet?" The sudden sounds of her native tongue startled her, and she pricked her finger with one of her arrowheads. She hisses in pain. She knew she should have worn gloves.

"Figured what out?"

"My sword. The steel." The bishop chuckles. They both glance at Ivar before turning to look at each other. Heahmund did not brood quite as much as he used to, but he was still just as irritating now that Ivar gave him leeway.

"No." She says irritably.

"It is Damascus steel."

"Damascus steel is a myth."

"So you've heard of it?"

"Yes," She drawls out, "And it is a myth." She repeats with finality. Damascus steel was said to be a strange metal that was resistant to rusting and shattering. No one knew how it was produced, and the secret was so well guarded in the east that it became legend.

"Then how would you explain the superiority of my blade?"

"Dwarfs." Was all she says, as if she believed it herself.

The older man sucks his teeth, clearly unamused. He grabs at an arrowhead for closer inspection. They were well made, even by his standards, and he knew they would be deadly once attached to wood.

"I've gone on pilgrimage to the Holy Land," He says after a moment, "The Arabs forge the steel. They say it comes from a land called India."

"India," She repeats the name, blinking in surprise, "I've never heard of such a place. If it is true, I shall like to go there one day."

"Perhaps you will."

"Do you wish to have your sword returned to you?" She asks, her eyes now focusing back on Ivar. He noticed them and immediately made his way over to them.

"He will tire of it soon enough. He prefers his bow."

"And will you truly fight for him?"

"It is our Lord's will that I do," Heahmund says, placing the arrowhead back upon the table Artemis worked over, his rough tone oddly drowning out her worries, "What is it you fear?"

Artemis shrugs before bringing her eyes to his. He held such unrelenting faith, such will and courage, strengths she did not possess. She didn't know who she was anymore.

"I am afraid of losing myself."

"We all have destinies. It just so happens that yours lies beside the crippled heathen."

She's never really believed in destiny.

"So you're friends with the bishop now?" Ivar barges in with a grunt, his eyes falling over the pair. He goes to stand by the work table, eyeing the tools and arrows with keen interest. He only knew how to sharpen his weapons but he couldn't actually make anything, really. It was impressive work, as always.

"We're civil," She answers with a smile, tilting her head towards the older man, "Isn't that right, bishop?" Heahmund grunts in annoyance, crossing his arms over his chest.

Ivar lowers himself closer to Artemis, quickly bringing a hand to shove at Heahmund's head so that his prying eyes would not see him kiss her plush lips. It was not the bishop's business.

"It's time for training." He then announces, turning to the bishop, shoving his head playfully one more time, "I thought you might want this back," He removes the sword from his belt, tossing it to him. Heahmund easily caught it very easily in his grip.

"I will see you tonight." Ivar mutters to her, placing another quick kiss to her brow before following Heahmund out.

They leave Artemis alone with her thoughts, and she almost wished the little boy didn't have to leave, so that she may have some form of company.

...

It was a beautiful day when their army departed.

The sun was blinding and the heat blistering. Back on their boats they went and into the sea, the calming waves carrying them to their destination.

Both armies were hundreds of feet away, biding their time for their leaders to ready themselves to declare war.

Ivar against Lagertha.

Brother against brother.

The intensity and ferocity could be felt in the air, from the birds soaring in the skies, to the creatures dwelling in the seas, it could be felt by everyone. Opposing camps were set before the battle and a last negotiation attempt was discussed before blood would be spilt.

Ivar's anger got the best of him when seeing Ubbe on Lagertha's side, as well as her son Bjorn, who had come from the Mediterranean just in time to defend his mother.

King Harald faces his own complications, extremely displeased with his brother. He tried to convince him to switch sides, but it seemed Halfdan's loyalty to Bjorn was stronger than his loyalty to his own brother. It was sad to see such battles within their own families. They would soon kill each other no doubt.

The camp was set up similarly to the one upon arriving in England, tents peppering all the way towards the horizon. The forging tent was miniscule, as there wouldn't be much need for it. The expectation was that the battle would end very quickly, and Artemis hoped that it did, with positive results.

Ivar had made arrangements for her to remain out of sight until he could come back for her, assuming he would come back. 2 guards were set to remain behind and watch over the camp, and in some ways, to look after her.

She sits on the ground at the far end of her tent to shield herself from the sun, fiddling with the loose threads that held her leather vest together, an anxious antic of the circumstances. To pass the time, she watches the warriors gather in preparation for the inevitable. Ivar was busy meeting with Harald, most likely more talk of strategy and such. She couldn't be bothered with the details, but it ultimately left her lonelier than she cared to admit.

The day continues, as well as the heat. Hvitserk appears suddenly in the campsite with Bjorn following behind, and the warriors instantly begin to murmur of his sudden return from the Mediterranean. They stopped in front of the tent, bickering quietly between themselves.

Her eyes catch a glimpse of Bjorns form, immediately noting his change in appearance. His skin was tanned, kissed by the sun, and his face glowed like she's never seen it before. His hair was paler, extremely flaxen and bright. He seemed to be a completely different person somehow; a changed person.

"Ivar will not back down," Hvitserk tells him with a sigh, crossing his arms and standing firm. They took shade in her tent, and she suddenly felt awkward as they began to bicker again.

"And neither will my mother," Bjorn answers back, "We are brothers, all sons of Ragnar. I do not wish to fight my blood." Hvitserk runs a hand down his face in frustration.

"And you think that I do? Lagertha killed my mother!"

"And your mother ripped apart my family!" They bickered so quickly that they were almost incomprehensible, tongues lashing at one another. They were in such a heated debate that they had both failed to notice her.

"All Ivar has done was separate us," Bjorn mutters, "You and Ubbe cannot even look at each other. Do not think I haven't noticed." Hvitserk proceeds to frown, knowing his relationship with Ubbe had deteriorated. It made him feel terrible.

Hvitserk remains quiet and Bjorn scoffs in response, blonde hair whipping about as he turns to show his younger brother his back. Bjorn's blue eyes landed on Artemis's small form, crouched in the corner, her head turned away from them as she worked to rip apart blades of grass between her fingers.

"Artemis?" He calls out to her, shifting his head to get a closer look at her from behind the small table. She says nothing, but offers him a nod of acknowledgement.

"I thought the tent was empty," Hvitserk says, "We sound like a couple of old fools, hm?"

"Hvitserk tells me you are now a free woman." Bjorn's curiosity had gotten the better of him.

"Yes." She nods again.

"Ivar is full of surprises, isn't he?" Bjorn chuckles darkly, crossing his arms in amusement.

"Without a doubt."

"I want you to know that I've seen the rest of your island," He continues, the small hints of a sad smile on his burned lips. Her heart suddenly drops, "And I must admit I've met the strangest people."

"I'm sure they thought the same of you." Was her snarky response, watching his shoulders shake in genuine amusement. "Was it to your liking?"

"The Mediterranean is a beauty. I've seen things I could have never dreamed of. I will remember it fondly."

"Yet you hide something." She tells him, rubbing her hands down the sides of her trousers, reaching out to rip more grass from the dirt. Bjorn sighs, turning to glance at a frowning Hvitserk before replying.

"Crete has been invaded. Andalusian's conquer the island. I left just as war had broken out." She could feel her heart pulsing in her ears as soon as he uttered those words. An uncomfortable heat rushed through her, as if her body were trying to fight off something within her.

"Andalusian's?" She finds herself asking in the softest tone, suddenly feeling faint. She blinks rapidly to gain her senses back, watching Bjorn tilt his head at her before nodding.

"They are Muslim's from Spain." Finally, she releases a breath, her hands gripping at the roots of her hair to make sense of the words.

"They say that the Arabs attempted to conquer Crete well over a hundred years ago," She speaks so low that both Hvitserk and Bjorn had to step a bit closer to hear her, "Everyone knows the story."

"And what happened then?" Hvitserk asks her, crouching down to sit beside her.

"The Emperor had prevailed in its defense," She continues, bringing her glossy eyes to Bjorn, "Why...?" She couldn't even formulate the words to ask him, but he understood.

"They were exiled from Spain. The island was an easy target for them to control."

"Artemis, you're crying." Hvitserk states dumbly, watching little tears roll down the apples of her cheeks. Somehow Hvitserk was always there to see her cry.

"If what Bjorn says is true, and war has broken out," She struggles to say, fighting the feeling of her throat constricting, "Then people were killed. My father could have been killed."

"You don't know that," Bjorn interjected, "You cannot say for sure."

"How can you say that?" She challenges, "You are a warrior. You should know well the fickle outcomes of war." Bjorn remains silent, releasing a large sigh at her comment.

"War spares no one, not even the innocent." She sniffles.

They all knew it to be true.

...

Negotiations failed miserably, and war was officially declared.

Horns blasted and the warriors assembled into their places in an orderly fashion on both sides. Chanting echoed across the green pastures and weapons were held high in the air.

Harald cheered alongside his men, giving them some kind of speech to arouse them with the need to slaughter. It wasn't very hard to get them to react in the way he wanted.

Ivar smiles, his feet hanging off the edge of the small cliff. His eyes scanned the field eagerly, gaze trained on Hvitserk and Heahmund as they took their positions. He'd need to join them soon.

"Men will speak of this day." He says quietly to himself, but Artemis hears him well enough, slowly approaching to kneel beside him. Just below were his archers waiting to defend him, his chariot prepared to ride off.

He turns to her, offering a grin despite the frown tugging at her lips.

"Are you worried?" He asks, reaching out a hand to smooth the lines on her brow. It was wrinkled in concern.

"A bit." She quietly admits, wringing her hands as proof that she was much more worried than she let on.

He notices the quiver strapped to her back, the unstrung bow nestled neatly within the arrows.

"What do you think you're doing with that?" Ivar jerks his chin towards her weapon with brows raised, "Do you intend to fight? I cannot allow you to be here. You are to go back to camp."

He watches her scan the battlefield just as he had. The men roared at each other as they pounded their fists against their chest. They were desperate to fight, and the energy that once made her uneasy seemed to fill her with something she couldn't really identify, but it made her want to run into danger.

"And what if I do not wish to go to camp?" She finally retorts, shifting her gaze to his.

"Do not be foolish," He grunts, playfully tugging at the ends of her braided hair, "It is not a matter of debate. The battlefield is too dangerous for a baby bird such as yourself." Somehow, he still had a sense of humor, even at the very brink of a war.

"I do not care," Her tone was stubborn like a child, "I do not care for my fate." Not anymore, anyway.

A noise resembling a growl brewed in Ivar's throat as a sign of his displeasure. He grips her chin tightly with his fingers, turning her face up to look at him. His eyes were hard and calculating, but impossibly blue, and filled with so much more emotion than he could ever express.

"Do not say such words so carelessly," He grits his teeth, the pressure of his fingers enough to make her wince, "What is the matter with you, hm? Do you not think when all this is over that I wouldn't want to rejoice with you in my arms?" Artemis shakes off his grip, bringing her eyes down towards the open plains at the very bottom of the cliff, worrying her lip between her teeth.

He sighs, throwing his arm around her shoulders to bring her close to him again.

"It is dangerous," He repeats, "And I do not wish to see you hurt." She listens intently as he murmurs the words into her hair, struggling to make his affections clear.

"You are not afraid?" Her voice sounded so small, drowning in the sea of war cries.

"No," He answers without hesitation, "I've waited for this long enough." Artemis shifts under his arm to get a good look at him. She searches his eyes again as if it were the last time she would see them, reaching up to place her hand over his prickly sideburns. Ivar sensed a farewell in her actions.

"Do not look at me like that," He demands, his lips curving into a gentle smile, "Your eyes say too much. You wound me before I can even go into battle."

She begins to feel the familiar pricking sensation in her eyes again, and they quickly gloss over, fixing her a blurry image of Ivar. Overwhelmed with emotion, she suddenly moves forward to smash her lips against his, the force causing Ivar to lean back unsteadily before pushing forward with the same fervent intensity that she had. After a few urgent kisses she pulls away, throwing her arms around him as she buries her face in the crook of his neck.

"Ivar?" She sniffles.

"Yes, baby bird?" He holds her tight, knowing in just a few moments a battle would be separating them. He runs a hand down her braided hair, feeling her tears against his skin, her voice wavering as she speaks.

"Pray that your gods protect you." ...

She was forced to stay back at the camp, utterly alone, save for those two guards, but she noticed they had silently disappeared a while ago. Probably bored of playing caretaker. She had robbed them of the excitement.

She could hear the battle, the warriors crying out in the distance. It drifted over the camp like a wave crashing against a shoreline. It was unlike anything she's ever heard before, and just the sound alone made the battle of York seem trivial.

It was enough to peak her curiosity, wondering what it must feel like to stab and kill another living being. The thought never crossed her mind before, and as a Christian, why would it?

If Heahmund, a bishop, could fight so vigorously, then why couldn't she...right?

She had a strong desire to just walk off into the middle of their war, to witness death first hand, perhaps even walk into a blade.

Who did she think she was? A fighter? No. A coward? Maybe. Yes.

She sighs, feeling the need to escape the tent after a few minutes of playing the scenarios over and over in her mind. The outcome of such a battle was uncertain. Ivar was undoubtedly a master strategist, he'd been planning the attack for 2 months, and although she knew he'd been trained in the skills of a warrior, she still wondered...would he escape out of this alive?

She could already imagine his rage if she voiced such a thought to him.

What, you think me weak like you, baby bird?

She allows herself a small smile, releasing a little puff of laughter. Her fondness for him had grown exponentially, which made all of this much harder.

She roams about the empty campsite until she finally decides to plop down on the grass, continuing to listen to the faint yells in the distance. A few minutes passed and she was growing weary.

Pulling an arrow from her quiver, she brings it down with a force, stabbing the sharp point deep into the dry earth to distract her mind.

Stab, stab, stab. Sigh.

As she littered the ground in slashes, old scuffed shoes appeared in front of her, and she quickly jerked away to get a good look at the intruder.

"What are you doing?" Freydis looms over her with a quizzical look upon her pretty little face. Artemis watches the blonde sit in front of her, the old dress she wore pooling around her.

"You have been traveling with the army?" Artemis questions her, hand tightly gripping the arrow as if ready to stab her. She was already in a foul mood.

"Of course I have. Wherever Ivar goes, I go." Artemis doesn't bother gracing her with an answer, only looks on at her with a curious expression. They've never had a formal conversation before, and the last time she'd seen the blonde was that day in York.

"I was so sure I had him. I thought perhaps I could please him," Freydis continues, smiling bitterly as she leans back on her hands, comfortably stretching out her legs, "But I see you have caught his eye instead."

"What a pity," Artemis feigns sympathy, twirling the arrow in her fingers, "You sound bothered."

"I had a plan," Freydis hisses, suddenly lurching forward on her knees to point an accusing finger at her, "I had a plan and you stole him away from me." Artemis jerks away from her, using the wood of the arrow to push Freydis's finger away from her.

"You had a plan." She repeats Freydis's words flatly, unamused.

"Of course I did! I convinced Ivar to free me. He takes kindly to words of praise, loves to be told of what a great king he would be." Freydis releases a hysterical giggle, and something about that makes Artemis uneasy. The blonde seemed to be at wit's end.

"And so you offered your body to him, in return for what? Power?" Artemis concludes.

"It is what all men want," Freydis says, the little angry arch in her brow becoming more apparent, her voice rising a few octaves as her frustration bubbled to the surface, "I was supposed to be taken care of, he was supposed to take care of me. I do not have the means to survive as a freewoman." She brings her blue eyes to glare at Artemis. "And I do not like competition." She finishes her rant.

"There is no competition," Artemis sucks her teeth, shifting to stand before returning the glare.

"I do not understand why he chose a foreigner," Freydis shouts in frustration, "You are nothing compared to a true northern woman." Artemis bites her lip, her eyes racking over the blondes features. Freydis was quite beautiful, even in hysterics, and she felt the tugs of jealousy on her heartstrings at the memory of her looming over Ivar.

She huffs, heat rising to her cheeks in anger, but she refused to feel the hands of envy. There were other things to worry about, and a conniving woman should be the least of them.

"Perhaps he realized how much of a poison you are," Artemis sneers, "Trying to latch on to him like a leech to blood. If all you have to offer is your body, then I'm sure you will have no trouble finding work." Freydis glares, her pretty face scrunched up in displeasure at the insult.

"You're ambitious." Artemis continues to say.

"And you lack it!" Freydis throws her hands up, "Ivar could make you his queen if he wished it so!"

"I've no interest. I am a foreigner as you say." The thought had never crossed her mind before. She saw herself as nothing more than, what, a companion? She shakes her head, focusing her attention towards the edge of the camp to avoid punching the blonde.

"Then step aside," Was the last thing she heard Freydis say, but she ignored it, her eyes catching bright colors lapping at the tents at the edge of the campsite. She blinks, squinting her eyes until the smoke begins to reach high as if to touch the heavens.

Fire.

It was spreading rapidly.

Artemis felt she couldn't move, her body rigid as all she could do was stare stupidly at the scene.

"What is wrong with you?" Freydis snarls, "Have you suddenly gone stupid?"

Artemis ignores the blonde's babbling again, her eyes making out silhouettes that now turned into the shape of men, warriors, all carrying torches, and all charging towards them with immense speed.

"Freydis, get up."

"What?"

"Get up and run!" Artemis lurches forward, grabbing the blonde by the arm and using all her strength to pull her to her feet. Freydis stands and looks over her shoulder, immediately letting out a terrible shriek. They grew closer, setting fire to all the tents and to whatever else they could burn. They were about five, all Lagertha's men by the blue colors they wore on their arms.

"Run!" Artemis pushes Freydis forward and they both take off in a sprint.

"Who are they?!" Freydis heaves, turning back again to glance at the men, easily setting the entire encampment aflame. The summer heat increased the fires tenfold.

"Lagertha's men, they're destroying the campsite!" Artemis coughs, the fumes of the fire already reaching her throat as they ran past the many tents that began to burn. Rations, supplies, everything was burning to cinders.

Her boots stomped over the dry grass, crushing twigs and everything else in her hurried pace, yet she felt they'd never reach the forests quick enough.

Freydis screams as an arrow whizzes by her, grazing her blonde tresses. She lets out a wail of fear, tears pouring down her pale face that blurred her vision. She stumbles, skirt tangling in her legs enough to cause her to fall, grabbing onto Artemis's quiver on the way.

Artemis let out a yelp on impact, her face colliding into the hot dirt. Tears ran freely down her cheeks, and she hisses as the pouch of arrows and her bow dig painfully into her side.

The flames grew taller, brighter than the sun. It was as if they had descended into hell itself.

Still, the men grew closer, smiles on their faces as one readied his bow again, pulling the string back.

"Freydis, get up! Get up!" Artemis cried hysterically, stumbling to her feet and pulling her up, but the blonde refused, becoming a sobbing mess as she choked on poisoned air. "If you don't get up, we will die!"

"It is fated! The gods, they-" Freydis stops, her eyes bulging out and blood immediately dripping from her mouth. An arrow pierced her throat completely, lodged all the way through. The tip of the arrow was visible through the skin, blood pouring out the deadly wound. A shriek lodged itself in Artemis's throat at the sight of a choking Freydis.

There was so much blood spilling out, and finally she did scream, sweat mixing in with her tears as she fought to rise to her feet. She glanced down at Freydis, watching her choke to death, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her voice weak gurgles against her blood.

That was not a fate she wanted for herself.

She couldn't spare Freydis a second glance, turning on stumbling legs and pushing forward.

"She's the one! Shoot her down already!" She barely heard one shout, and immediately another arrow soars, the tip tearing at the flesh of her left ear. She ignores the blooming pain as she runs, already feeling the blood leaking down her jaw and onto her neck.

She wanted so much to collapse, the bad air and her tired legs slowing her down.

Another arrow whizzed by, barely missing her cheek as it fell flat to the ground.

Run run run run!

She repeated the mantra, frantically searching for those guards that Ivar had assigned, until coming to the realization that they were most likely dead at the hands of those men. This was obviously planned.

The bow and quiver felt heavy on her back, completely useless as she was not yet skilled to render a man dead, and she was much too fearful to do so. But she needed something, anything.

The forging tent comes into view, and she thinks she had surely left something lying about, anything that would help her if she came face to face with one of the warriors. She could nearly see it, the tarp slowly catching onto the flames that spread.

More arrows were shot, along with more shouts of frustration, enough to make her wonder how they haven't pierced her already in the way they so easily did to Freydis.

She turns round quickly to see the men at her heels before finally entering the tent. Her large hammer sat untouched on the wooden table top, seemingly ready to be used. She grabbed it tightly in her hand and sprinted out the tent just as it began to collapse in fire.

She runs into the surrounding trees, hoping that they'd lose her, but they probably knew the forests far better than she.

One of them was successful in reaching her, his long legs stomping behind her. He was big in stature and a nasty smile played on his lips. Large dirty hands reached for her, grabbing onto the front of her vest and jerking her forward. She screams, knowing his intentions were beyond just killing once he rips her vest open.

The hammer hanging lifeless in her grip suddenly felt hot in her hand, enough for her to muster all her strength to swing the it against him as if beating a mighty sword. Though uncoordinated, she struck him well enough across the head with all her might, a cry passing through her dried lips. Blood splattered over her face but she barely noticed, blinking the red from her burning eyes as he released her with a shove.

He stumbled back from the impact; stunned, eyes rolling to the back of his skull before falling onto his back. His blood spilled onto the grass, pieces of skin and grime hanging from the deep gash. Her hands trembled, but again, she raised her arms high above her head, bringing it down with a sickening crack, smashing his face into mush until he was completely unrecognizable.

She sways, falling hard on her knees, vomiting the contents of her stomach right beside her first kill.

She just killed a man.

Adrenaline pumped through her veins, her ears perking up at the sound of heavy feet crushing leaves and fallen branches. The others were close, and she had to escape, but the farther into the forest she ventured, the closer she was to the clearing where the battlefield was. She was running away from an opponent, only to fall into another trap.

Her breathing was erratic and her muscles tensed, but she pushed on, bloody hammer in hand. The faster she went the farther away she was from the attackers, slithering her way behind ancient trees and large shrubs, but it was as if they had just vanished. She could not hear them tracking her down anymore, but it wasn't enough to stop her from pushing further.

Move. Keep going. Faster.

Turning to look over her shoulder she trips over a large jagged stone, her legs finally giving out. With a yelp her body slams to the ground, twisting and rolling down the harsh forest floor. Twigs and leaves stuck into her hair as her world spun.

After what felt like an eternity, she finally comes to a stop with a pained grunt. She lands on her face, grass and dirt entering her mouth. She spat, turning her head to the side, groaning at the feel of her aching body. So much noise surrounded her, the clash of metal and the war cries of men. She closes her eyes, wheezing as she fights to breathe. Her throat burned still from breathing in the toxic fumes.

She was tired.

If the attackers wouldn't reach her, then something else would finish her off.

She began to drift off, eyes fluttering when an annoying pain bloomed on her cheek over and over. It was a pecking, like a needle trying to pierce through her skin. She cracked her eyes open, blinking to clear her vision.

It was a raven.

It's beady eyes were as dark as its feathers, cocking its head as if questioning her. It pecked her again, this time on her hand before flapping its wings erratically as if to take flight, but it never did. It just looked at her.

Artemis squints against the glare of the weak sun, now hiding behind the darkest of clouds. A storm was approaching. She glances back at the bird that remained very still by her side before rolling her tired body over at the scene before her.

She had landed on the small hill where she bid Ivar goodbye, and she was surrounded by some of the dead bodies of Ivar's archers.

With a startled kick to the body beside her, she shifts, moving to crawl away to be at a distance from the bodies. All were littered with arrows.

The bile rose again as her eyes scanned the field. It was nothing she could have imagined. Hundreds of bloody bodies strewn across the clearing, and hundreds more fighting with all their might in the name of their leader.

Her eyes memorized the images of the deformed bodies, some disemboweled, others dismembered. Limbs were hanging off the bodies of the wounded who screamed from the shocking pain.

The bile came out, and she gags, sweat clinging her hair to her brow like a second skin. She spat, wiping the back of her hand over her mouth, feeling the sting of cuts littering her cheeks from the sharp branches. The pain of her torn ear finally hit her full force, and she squeezed her eyes shut at the unusual pain. She brings her fingers to touch the wound, and what should have been the shell of her ear was gone. Horrified, she looks at the fresh blood coating her fingertips, swallowing thickly.

With a shuddering breath she struggles to ignore the pain, scanning her eyes once more over the field, searching for his chariot.

Could he be...dead?

Before she could fall back into the dirt against the prospect, she spots him, riding across the field like the king he knew he would be.

He was yelling orders at his men, stopping occasionally to lodge his axe into someone’s skull. Even from a distance she could see the blood that coated his face and the look of determination he had.

He wasn't afraid.

She was in absolute awe. Ivar looked incredible.

She would smile if she could, but all chances were taken away when Queen Lagertha, clear as day, makes her way towards Ivar's chariot, sword held high in hand.

The wheel of his chariot was stuck, and he couldn't get the mare to pull him out.

That was just enough time to make her kill.

"No, no, no," Artemis begins to cry, gripping her loose hair as she watches the scene unfold.

The raven, already forgotten, begins to flap its wings rapidly, cawing quite loudly. As soon as she stood on her shaky legs, the raven flew, perching itself on her shoulder. Its claws sunk into her flesh, though she hardly noticed. What she did notice was the raven was still cawing, like it was urging her to do something.

But what? All she had was her bow.

Oh.

She reaches for the bow strapped to her back, taking the splintered wood in her bloody hand. It should have snapped from the impact of her fall, but it strangely remained in one piece, along with some of her arrows. Quickly, she digs in the pocket of her trousers for the bowstring, her shaking hands attaching the stretchy fibers to the bow as she was taught.

Taking a deep breath, she removed an arrow from her quiver, locking into place. The raven pecked at her cheek gently and she knew what she had to do.

But could she do it?

Ivar ceased his desperation to move his chariot. For a moment he was smiling, realizing he had the upper hand in the battle anyway, but all would be for nothing if Lagertha got to him first.

The queen stabbed at the warriors in her way, going straight towards him ever so slowly, and it was like everything around them had disappeared. All Artemis could see was Ivar and Lagertha, nothing else.

And she only had one shot.

She raises the bow, pulling the string as far back as she could.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Steady your stance. Pull the string. Release the arrow.

She recites the lesson in her head.

Lagertha raises her sword above her head, ready to bring it down in one swift movement. She yells as she builds up momentum, and Ivar quickly turns in surprise, his instinct quick to react, raising his axe to clash against her sword. She falls back, and again, raises her sword, so close to penetrating his armor.

Shoot!

A voice boomed, whether it was around her or in her head, Artemis didn't know, but there was no hesitation. Her fingertips released the sting and the arrow went flying at a fierce velocity to its target, impaling itself all the way through the flesh of the queen's wrist.

She cries out both in anger and pain, staggering back again as she gritted her teeth harshly against the excruciating pain. Her fingers spread open to drop her sword, falling onto her knees as she weakly cradled her wrist.

Ivar wasted no time. He grabbed a hold of his axe, slithering down to the ground and pushing Lagertha on her back, twisting the arrow lodge in her flesh to keep her from attacking. She screams and flails, Ivar's weight taking a toll on her already weak body.

He places his large hand over her eyes tightly, using the force to smash her head onto the ground. He lowers himself closer before bringing down his axe against her throat, slicing her head cleanly off.

That was it. The war was his. Kattegat was his.

He collapses onto his back beside the dead woman, he chest heaving as warriors continue to fight around him.

Slowly he sits up, the head of Lagertha in a death grip as he dragged his tired body over to his chariot, mounting the seat. He raised her head in the air by the hair, the blood leaking over his arm and onto his armored chest.

"Surrender!" He booms, "Lagertha is dead! All hail your new king!"

The opposing warriors began to retreat, fleeing back into their camps. Ivar's warriors cheered, yelling their praises to the gods, until some noticed the smoke filling the atmosphere from the tree tops.

The camp! The camp! Yelled the warriors.

Ivar's smile fades. He drops his arm, turning to look over his shoulder at what the other men gazed at.

The trees on the hill top were indeed surrounded by smoke, but that was not what held his attention.

Artemis stood there, blood, dirt and soot covering her face, chest heaving and bow held in a death grip in her trembling hand. A raven sat comfortably on her shoulder, flapping its wings wildly.

She was a sight to behold. Ivar couldn't tear his eyes from her. She looked every bit a warrior, even now as she fell to her knees, staring at him just as intently.

And then he realizes.

She was the one. She shot the arrow.

Ivar had so many questions, his mouth opening like a fish out of water as if to shout them to her from where he was.

He barks at a passing warrior to move his chariot, and once it was loosened, he turns it to bring it closer to the cliff. They stare at each other for a while until Ivar slowly raises Lagertha's head in the air towards her, as if offering it to her as a prize.

She stares at the decapitated head before dragging her eyes over Ivar's armoured body, covered in the sticky blood of his enemies. She would have been fearful of such a sight once, but now, all she wanted to do was fall into his arms.

The raven cawed loudly, flapping its wings again to gain her attention, but when she turned her head to look at the creature, it flew off, disappearing into the smokey sky.

Suddenly in the midst of the smoke stood a figure, an old man in all black. He held a long wooden staff in his spindly fingers. His beard was gray, long and matted, and when Artemis finally settled her eyes to look into his, she was startled. One eye was beautiful, different shades of blue in its depths, but the other a gaping black hole with dried blood around the edges.

He smiles at her.

"Well done." His voice seemed to vibrate through her before disappearing into a cluster of cawing ravens that colored the skies black.

...

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