#Swords against death
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An improvement over the first book, in that it dispenses (mostly) with sexism to focus on the wild and weird adventures of its heroes. Otherwise, consistently fun, with many a unique predicament.
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My 1970s Ace Books copy of Swords against death has an ad for Kent cigarettes just one page into the third story: “Thieves’ House.” Is it a sign of cheap pocket books being such a fast market back then you can have ads in them, like a magazine would? I guess a cigarette ad in a book with death in the title is apt. And the the story is fun, fast, and has a nice ending. I think this was my favorite of the Fafhrd and Grey Mouser books. I only read the first 3 or 4, though, I might be wrong. There was some thing about these stories being less stand-alone than Conan, but still not really planned, that really worked for me. A tone. A feeling. It isn’t Tolkien (of course) but something seedy and chaotic. And feeling is a big part of Fantasy (and horror). It might be one of the reasons it’s so hard to get Fantasy movies right.
#fritz leiber#fafhrd and the gray mouser#Fantasy#swords and sorcery#Swords against death#1970#seedy and chaotic#Tolkien
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If people could stop reblogging from trad fascists like Greater-than-the-sword or Prolifeproliberty that’d be a huge improvement.
#vent#anti zionism#free palestine#greater-than-the-sword#Greater than the sword#homophobia#transphobia#racism#They think homophobe is a slur against Christians#They’re worst than prismatic bell and have been on this site just as long#fuck zionists#fuck conservatives#fuck transphobes#Zionist blocklist#blocklist#garbage people#creationists#They said some disgusting things about Leelah Alcorn’s death back in the day#They still show up all the time in reblog chains like PB and Vaspider#why is it always the homeschool Christian blogs that have the worst political takes
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“Sometimes I dream about you. I memorize every detail of your face like a prayer. Those moments seem so real that I grieve whenever I wake up and your spot next to me is cold. Why did you beg me to kill you? I would’ve stopped. Even in death I cannot escape you. I’m not sure I want to even if I was begging for it.”
w/ @kashisun !! (happy birthday 😭)
#simblr#sims 4 edit#ts4#the sims community#mysims#lethal devotion#marine yes I did make this for ur birthday pls don’t kill me 😭😭#putting marine and I’s oc’s in the most devastating scenarios possible at all times#i imagined this as nie finally being found out by everyone else that shes an assassin that was paid to murder nadia#nadia would be stuck because how can she explain why this murderer is able to walk free and openly be allowed in her bed#but also how can she betray the one person she truly loves??#nadia's people would demand nie be put to death and instead of begging for her life nie would beg for it to end#'i have known nothing but misery and death until i found you. i trust no one else to cleanse and free me from my own damnation'#'i know i dont deserve it but paint me heaven with my own blood'#'i cant think of anything more godly than dying by your hand"#nadia would have to stand over her holding the sword to her throat barely being able to breathe staring down at nie sobbing at her feet#but nie would never look so peaceful feeling the blade press against her skin#nadia would be screaming inside PLEADING for nie to tell her stop that's all it would take and she would stop in a heartbeat#she'd figure it out later because at least then she'd have the love of her life ALIVE AND BREATHING#but the words never came instead there would be smothering silence while nie's body lay lifeless on the ground#but Nadia knows why nie never stopped her no matter how much it hurts this was an act of love because it’s what nie wanted#NIE YOU BETTER HAUNT HER ASS#knowing nadia she would spend her entire life learning necromancy just to bring nie back to life#probably think about killing her again too for putting her through that 😭
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“Tell me, father, which to ask forgiveness for: what I am, or what I’m not?
Tell me, mother, which should I regret: what I became, or what I didn’t?”
- source
#i realized i almost never do anything with itachi and his parents so this one post is dedicated to them#the regret of killing them would have killed him before his actual death#what kind of child he was to raise a sword against his own parents?#his parents weren't even angry that he'd betrayed them at last#all the nightmares that would have followed him in which they hated him for everything and he would have no defense#who held him when he cried thinking of his mom? who comforted him when he choked on his tears thinking of his father's last words?#who was there for him when memories of his family became too much to handle and he would just collapse unable to breathe#maybe just maybe when the first symptoms of his illness showed he thought#that it was just one of his regular coughing fits that came with the onslaught of the memories of his parents#did he ever want to crawl back to sasuke and tell him how miserable he was and how much he missed their parents#where did the strength to be entirely indifferent and inhuman composure come to him#how much practice did it take? how many days? months? years?#did people around him ever suspect how much he was suffering?#all from thinking about his dead parents whom he killed#whose blood never left his tiny fingers and soaked into his flesh and blended into his own#how much misery was encapsulated into those expressionless features that never gave away even the slightest hint of pain#itachi uchiha#uchiha itachi#itachi#mikoto#mikoto uchiha#fugaku uchiha#fugaku
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Very impulsive idea:
You know how stalfos are abound in most games? This demonstrates that 1. the undead exist throughout LoZ and 2. Ganon/whatever BBEG‘s turn it is has/could have control over the dead.
Anyway.
Shadow being a former hero that failed, died and whose body/soul is being puppeted. He doesn‘t remember anything from his life before basically being Adopted For Nefarious Reasons by Ganon. Some fairies still remember a hero long ago that befriended dragons instead of fighting them and liked to scare people, but they don‘t recognize him anymore; not that they interacted all that much with him, he had help from elsewhere. For more angst, Shadow tried to have the heroes killed in all places where he almost died on his quest because he still associates them with danger.
Now the difference between Shadow and the colours isn‘t just good/evil or different sides anymore. It‘s what makes one succeed in their quest and what makes the other fail. Extra kudos if neither ever find out what that is, because there‘s actually no reason at all. Victim-of-the-circumstances kind of situation. Shadow was screwed by coincidence and that‘s the only reason why he died and landed in Ganon‘s hands to fight the next hero, deal with it. Looking for a reason is useless.
Now, if Shadow died before his BBEG, then Hyrule would either be a shitshow or non-existent anymore (think WW). So I‘m thinking he took it down with his death, which would make his sacrifice at the end of the manga a repetition. History repeats itself yadda yadda. And if his personality stays the same overall, who‘s to say he didn‘t have a self-sacrificial streak before? Maybe that‘s why he chose to break the mirror so readily despite there potentially being a way to re-seal Vaati without his death (at least if his comment to Vio about it wasn‘t just showing off)?
#lunavagans#four swords#shadow link#four swords shadow#tw death#listen i really like a shadow that doesnt like the concept of heroes#for one reason or another#eother because he associates it with link and what he lackes#or because here#it reminds him of failure#this au spawned from the pure need for memory whump#ganon holding it over his head maybe#i generally really like ganon brainwashing shadow#though usually i like a cult interpretation way more#lets me bring in the yiga#that could be terrifying if only nintendo actually let them……#like cmon those are still ppl of hyrule!#what happens if they all turn against the hero and not because hes wanted by the usurper of thr crown?#probably too dark for a nintendo game unfortunately
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Nightmares and Dreams that Haunt the Night Commander Harukehn - @harukehn
#gw2#guild wars 2#gw2 oc#gw2 sylvari#art#lyhil#harukehn#gore#fantasy gore#suggestive#well. steeples hands. where to begin.#The departing haunts my mind constantly. tyria's hero is killed in a cowardly ambush and they die alone#in a place that is not their home#against a god that is not (always) their own#how long did the hours stretch on before your comrades found you#how long did they grieve you around the incomprehensible doom your death brings upon this realm#if youre a sylvari then youve had five years to experience life#before balthazars sword ensures you do not see another#in harukehns case - it creates an anxiety and a drive to finally allow himself the desires and curiosities he previously shamed himself for#it takes death for him to truly comprehend how short his life could be - and all that he has forbade himself from having#the link between these two pages is that lyhil has carried harukehn like this only twice#once - a broken small body bleeding in his vice grip as he rushed to harukehn to a mender. every step filled with panic.#twice - legs failing after a moment of bliss: far too weak to make it down the snowy mountain from the hot spring they had escaped to#also i enjoyed a lot the focus of a body being so terribly shattered by violence and fear could still mend and be held and appreciated#anyway if you made it to this tag you're a real one#please be appropriate levels of unwell about this else i shall refrain from sharing in future LAUGHS
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Kingdom of Ash Chapter 55-56
Chapter; Highlights, Notes, Tags, etc.
The Thirteen were on edge. They hadn't yet decided where to go. And hadn't been invited to travel with the Crochans to any of their home-hearths. Even Glennis's.
None of them, however, had looked his way when they'd prowled past. None had recognized him.
Dorian had just completed another walking circuit in his little training area when Manon stalked by, silver hair flowing. He paused, no more than a wary Crochan sentinel, and watched her storm through snow and mud as if she were a blade through the world.
Manon had nearly passed his training area when she went rigid.
Slowly, she turned, nostrils flaring.
Those golden eyes swept over him, swift and cutting. Her brows twitched toward each other. Dorian only gave her a lazy grin in return.
Then she prowled toward him.
Another assessing stare. "I would have thought you'd pick a prettier form."
He frowned down at himself. "I think she's pretty enough."
Manon's mouth tightened. "I suppose this means you're about to go to Morath."
"Did I say anything of the sort?" He didn't bother sounding pleasant.
Manon took a step toward him, her teeth flashing. In this body, he stood shorter than her. He hated the thrill that shot through his blood as she leaned down to growl at him. "We have enough to deal with today, princeling."
"Do l look as if I'm standing in your way?" She opened her mouth, then shut it.
Dorian let out a low laugh and made to turn away. An iron-tipped hand gripped his arm.
Strange, for that hand to feel large on his body. Large, and not the slender, deadly thing he'd become accustomed to.
Her golden eyes blazed. "If you want a softhearted woman who will weep over hard choices and ultimately balk from them, then you're in the wrong bed."
"I'm not in anyone's bed right now." He hadn't gone to her tent any of these nights. Not since that conversation in Eyllwe.
She took the retort without so much as a flinch. "Your opinion doesn't matter to me."
"Then why are you standing here?"
Again, she opened and closed her mouth. Then snarled, "Change out of that form." Dorian smiled again. "Don't you have better things to do right now, Your Majesty?" He honestly thought she might unsheathe those iron teeth and rip out his throat.
Half of him wanted her to try. He even went so far as to run one of those phantom hands along her jaw.
"You think I don't know why you don't want me to go to Morath?"
"Tell me to stay," he said, and the words had no warmth, no kindness. "Tell me to stay with you, if that's what you want." His invisible fingers grew talons and scraped over her skin. Manon's throat bobbed. "But you won't say that, will you, Manon?" Her breathing turned jagged. He continued to stroke her neck, her jaw, her throat, caressing skin he'd tasted over and over. "Do you know why?"
"Because while you might be older, might be deadly in a thousand different ways, deep down, you're afraid. You don't know how to ask me to stay, because you're afraid of admitting to yourself that you want it. You're afraid. Of yourself more than anyone else in the world. You're afraid." For several heartbeats, she just stared at him.
Then she snarled, "You don't know what you're talking about," and stalked away.
His low laugh ripped after her. Her spine stiffened. But Manon did not turn back.
Afraid. Of admitting that she felt any sort of attachment.
It was preposterous.
And it was, perhaps, true.
But it was not her problem. Not right now.
Manon stormed through the readying camp where tents were being taken down and folded, hearths being packed. The Thirteen were with the wyverns, supplies stowed in saddlebags.
Some of the Crochans had frowned her way. Not with anger, but something like disappointment.
Discontent. As if they thought parting ways was a poor idea.
Manon refrained from saying she agreed.
Even if the Thirteen followed, the Crochans would find a way to lose them. Use their power to bind the wyverns long enough to disappear.
And she would not lower herself, lower the Thirteen, to become dogs chasing after their masters. They might be desperate for aid, might have promised it to their allies, but she would not debase herself any further.
Manon halted at Glennis's camp, the only hearth with a fire still burning. A fire that would always remain kindled.
A reminder of the promise she'd made to honor the Queen of Terrasen. A single, solitary flame against the cold.
Manon rubbed at her face as she slumped onto one of the rocks lining the hearth. A hand rested on her shoulder, warm and slight. She didn't bother to slap it away.
Glennis said, "We're departing in a few minutes. I thought l'd say good-bye."
Manon peered up at the ancient witch. "Fly well." It was really all there was left to say.
Manon's failure was not due to Glennis, not due to anyone but herself, she supposed.
You're afraid.
It was true. She had tried, but not really tried to win the Crochans. To let them see any part of her that meant something. To let them see what it had done to her, to learn she had a sister and that she had killed her. She didn't know how, and had never bothered to learn.
You're afraid.
Yes, she was. Of everything.
Glennis lowered her hand from Manon's shoulder.
"May your path carry you safely through war and back home at last."
She didn't feel like telling the crone there was no home for her, or the Thirteen.
Glennis turned her face toward the sky, sighing once. Then her white brows narrowed. Her nostrils flared. Manon leapt to her feet.
"Run," Glennis breathed. "Run now."
Manon drew Wind-Cleaver and did no such thing. "What is it?"
"They're here." How Glennis had scented them on the wind, Manon didn't care.
Not as three wyverns broke from the clouds, spearing for their camp.
She knew those wyverns, almost as well as she knew the three riders who sent the Crochans into a frenzy of motion.
The Matrons of the Ironteeth Witch-Clans had found them. And come to finish what Manon had started that day in Morath.
The three High Witches had come alone.
Rushing steps crunched through the icy snow, halting at Manon's side just as Dorian's scent wrapped around her. "Is that—"
"Yes," she said quietly, heart thundering as the Matrons dismounted and did not raise their hands in request for parley. No, they only stalked closer to the hearth, to the precious flame still burning. "Don't engage," Manon warned him and the others, and strode to meet them.
It was not the king's battle, no matter what power dwelled in his veins.
Glennis was already armed, an ancient sword in her withered hands. The woman was as old as the Yellowlegs Matron, yet she stood tall, facing the three High Witches.
Cresseida Blueblood spoke first, her eyes as cold as the iron-spiked crown digging into her freckled brow. "It has been an age, Glennis." But Glennis's stare, Manon realized, was not on the Blueblood Matron. Or even on Manon's own grandmother, her black robes billowing as she sneered at Manon.
It was on the Yellowlegs Matron, hunched and hateful between them. On the crown of stars atop the crone's thinned white hair.
Glennis's sword shook slightly. And just as Manon realized what the Matron had worn here,
Bronwen appeared at Glennis's side and breathed, "Rhiannon's crown."
Worn by the Yellowlegs Matron to mock these witches. To spit on them.
A dull roaring began in Manon's ears.
"What company you keep these days, granddaughter," said Manon's grandmother, her silver-streaked dark hair braided back from her face. A sign enough of their intentions, if her grandmother's hair was in that plait. Battle. Annihilation.
The weight of the three High Witches' attention pressed upon her. The Crochans gathered behind her shifted as they waited for her response.
Yet it was Glennis who snarled, in a voice Manon had not yet heard, "What is it that you want?"
Manon's grandmother smiled, revealing rust-flecked iron teeth. The true sign of her age. "You made a grave error, Manon Kin-Slayer, when you sought to turn our forces against us. When you sowed such lies amongst our sentinels regarding our plans— my plans."
Manon kept her chin high. "I spoke only truth. And it must have frightened you enough that you gathered these two to hunt me down and prove your innocence in scheming against them."
The other two Matrons didn't so much as blink. Her grandmother's claws had to have sunk deep, then. Or they simply did not care.
"We came," Cresseida seethed, the opposite in so many ways of the daughter who had given Manon the chance to speak, "to at last rid us of a thorn in our sides."
Had Petrah been punished for letting Manon walk out of the Omega alive? Did the Blueblood Heir still breathe? Cresseida had once screamed in a mother's terror and pain when Petrah had nearly plunged to her death.
Did that love, so foreign and strange, still hold true? Or had duty and ancient hatred won out?
The thought was enough to steel Manon's spine. "You came because we pose a threat."
Because of the threat you pose to that monster you call grandmother.
"You came," Manon went on, Wind-Cleaver rising a fraction, "because you are afraid."
Manon took a step beyond Glennis, her sword lifting farther.
"You came," Manon said, "because you have no true power beyond what we give you.
And you are scared to death that we're about to take it away." Manon flipped Wind-Cleaver in her hand, angling the sword downward, and drew a line in the snow between them. "You came alone for that fear. That others might see what we are capable of. The truth that you have always sought to hide."
Her grandmother tutted. "Listen to you. Sounding just like a Crochan with that preachy nonsense."
Manon ignored her. Ignored her and pointed Wind-Cleaver directly at the Yellowlegs Matron as she snarled, "That is not your crown."
Something like hesitation rippled over Cresseida Blueblood's face. But the Yellowlegs Matron beckoned to Manon with iron nails so long they curved downward. "Then come and fetch it from me, traitor."
Manon stepped beyond the line she'd drawn in the snow.
No one spoke behind her. She wondered if any of them were breathing.
She had not won against her grandmother. Had barely survived, and only thanks to luck. That fight, she had been ready to meet her end. To say farewell.
Manon angled Wind-Cleaver upward, her heart a steady, raging beat.
She would not greet the Darkness's embrace today. But they would.
"This seems familiar," her grandmother drawled, legs shifting into attacking position.
The other two Matrons did the same. "The last Crochan Queen. Holding the line against us." Manon cracked her jaw, and iron teeth descended. A flex of her fingers had her iron nails unsheathing. "Not just a Crochan Queen this time."
There was doubt in Cresseida's blue eyes.
As if she'd realized what the other two Matrons had not.
There—it was there that Manon would strike first. The one who now wondered if they had somehow made a grave mistake in coming here.
A mistake that would cost them what they had come to protect.
A mistake that would cost them this war.
And their lives.
For Cresseida saw the steadiness of Manon's breathing. Saw the clear conviction in her eyes. Saw the lack of fear in her heart as Manon advanced another step.
Manon smiled at the Blueblood Matron as if to say yes.
"You did not kill me then," Manon said to her grandmother. "I do not think you will be able to now."
"We'll see about that," her grandmother hissed, and charged.
Manon was ready.
An upward swing of Wind-Cleaver met her grandmother's first two blows, and Manon ducked the third. Turning right into the onslaught of the Yellowlegs Matron, who swept up with unnatural speed, feet almost flying over the snow, and slashed for Manon's exposed back.
Manon deflected the crone's assault, sending the witch darting back. Just as Cresseida launched herself at Manon. Cresseida was not a trained fighter. Not as the Blackbeak and Yellowlegs Matrons were. Too many years spent reading entrails and scanning the stars for the answers to the Three-Faced Goddess's riddles.
A duck to the left had Manon easily evading the sweep of Cresseida's nails, and a countermove had Manon driving her elbow into the Blueblood Matron's nose.
Cresseida stumbled. The Yellowlegs Matron and her grandmother attacked again. So fast. Their three assaults had happened in the span of a few blinks. Manon kept her feet under her. Saw where one Matron moved and the other left a dangerous gap exposed.
She was not a broken-spirited Wing Leader unsure of her place in the world.
She was not ashamed of the truth before her.
She was not afraid.
Manon's grandmother led the attack, her maneuvers the deadliest. It was from her that the first slice of pain appeared. A rip of iron nails through Manon's shoulder. But Manon swung her sword, again and again, iron on steel ringing out across the icy peaks.
No, she was not afraid at all.
Around him, the Crochans thrummed with fear and dread. Either for the fight unfolding or the three Matrons who had found them.
But Glennis did not tremble. At her side Bronwen hummed with the energy of one eager to leap into the fight.
Manon and the High Witches sprang apart, breathing heavily. Blue blood leaked down Manon's shoulder, and small slices peppered the three Matrons.
Manon still remained on the far side of the line she'd drawn. Still held it.
The dark-haired witch in voluminous black robes spat blue blood onto the snow. Manon's grandmother. "Pathetic. As pathetic as your mother." A sneer toward Glennis. "And your father."
The snarl that ripped from Manon's throat rang across the mountains themselves.
Her grandmother let out a crow's caw of a laugh. "Is that all you can do, then? Snarl like a dog and swing your sword like some human filth? We will wear you down eventually. Better to kneel now and die with some honor intact." Manon only flung out an iron-tipped hand behind her, fingers splaying in demand as her eyes remained fixed on the Matrons.
Dorian reached for Damaris, but Bronwen moved first.
The Crochan tossed her sword, steel flashing over snow and sun.
Manon's fingers closed on the hilt, the blade singing as she whipped it around to face the High Witches again. "Rhiannon Crochan held the gates for three days and three nights, and she did not kneel before you, even at the end." A slash of a smile. "I think I shall do the same." Dorian could have sworn the sacred flame burning to their left flared brighter. Could have sworn Glennis sucked in a breath. That every Crochan watching did the same.
Manon's knees bent, swords rising. "Let us finish what was started then, too." She attacked, blades flashing.
Her grandmother conceded step after step, the other two Matrons failing to break past her defenses.
Gone was the witch who had slept and wished for death. Gone was the witch who had raged at the truth that had torn her to shreds.
And in her place, fighting as if she were the very wind, unfaltering against the Matrons, stood someone Dorian had not yet met.
Stood a queen of two peoples.
Yielding only those few steps, and nothing more.
Because Manon with conviction in her heart, with utter fearlessness in her eyes, was wholly unstoppable.
The other two witches had fallen back, as if waiting to see what might happen.
But she yielded no further ground. A wall against which the Yellowlegs Matron could not advance. The crone let out a snarl, attacking again and again, senseless and raging.
Dorian saw the trap the moment it happened.
No one seemed to breathe at all as Manon plunged Bronwen's sword into the icy earth beneath and bent to take the crown of stars from the Yellowlegs witch's fallen head.
He had never seen a crown like it.
A living, glowing thing that glittered in her hand. As if nine stars had been plucked from the heavens and set to shine along the simple silver band.
The crown's light danced over Manon's face as she lifted it above her head and set it upon her unbound white hair.
Even the mountain wind stopped.
Yet a phantom breeze shifted the strands of Manon's hair as the crown glowed bright, the white stars shining with cores of cobalt and ruby and amethyst.
As if it had been asleep for a long, long time. And now awoke.
That phantom wind pulled Manon's hair to the side, silver strands brushing across her face.
And beside him, around him, the Thirteen touched two fingers to their brow in deference.
In allegiance to the queen who stared down the two remaining High Witches.
The Crochan Queen, crowned anew.
The sacred fire leaped and danced, as if in joyous welcome.
"Go."
The Blueblood witch blinked, eyes wide with what could only be fear and dread.
Manon jerked her chin toward the wyvern waiting behind the witch. "Tell your daughter all debts between us are paid. And she may decide what to do with you. Take that other wyvern out of here."
Spared by the Crochan Queen on behalf of the daughter who had given Manon the gift of speaking to the Ironteeth.
Within seconds, the Blueblood Matron was in the skies, the Yellowlegs witch's wyvern soaring beside her.
Leaving Manon's grandmother alone.
Leaving Manon with swords raised and a crown of stars glowing upon her brow.
Manon was glowing, as if the stars atop her head pulsed through her body. A wondrous and mighty beauty, like no other in the world. Like no one had ever been, or would be again.
And slowly, as if savoring each step, Manon stalked toward her grandmother.
Warm, dancing light flowed through her, as unfaltering as what had poured into her heart these past few bloody minutes.
She did not balk. Did not fear.
The crown's weight was slight, like it had been crafted of moonlight. Yet its joyous strength was a song, undimming before the sole High Witch left standing.
So Manon kept walking.
She left Bronwen's sword a few feet away.
Left Wind-Cleaver several feet past that.
Iron nails out, teeth ready, Manon paused barely five steps from her grandmother.
A hateful, wasted scrap of existence. That's what her grandmother was.
She had never realized how much shorter the Matron stood. How narrow her shoulders were, or how the years of rage and hate had withered her.
Manon's smile grew. And she could have sworn she felt two people standing at her shoulder.
She knew no one would be there if she looked. Knew no one else could see them, sense them, standing with her. Standing with their daughter against the witch who had destroyed them.
Her grandmother spat on the ground, baring her rusted teeth.
This death, though ...
It was not her death to claim.
It did not belong to the parents whose spirits lingered at her side, who might have been there all along, leading her toward this. Who had not left her, even with death separating them.
No, it did not belong to them, either.
She looked behind her. Toward the Second waiting beside Dorian.
Tears slid down Asterin's face. Of pride- pride and relief.
Manon beckoned to Asterin with an iron- tipped hand.
Manon raised a hand. "Let her go."
When there was no trace of the Matrons left but blue blood and a headless corpse staining the snow, Manon turned toward the Crochans.
Their eyes were wide, but they made no move.
The Thirteen remained where they were, Dorian with them.
Manon scooped up both swords, sheathing Wind-Cleaver across her back, and stalked toward where Glennis and Bronwen stood, monitoring her every breath.
Wordlessly, Manon handed Bronwen her sword, nodding in thanks.
Then she removed the crown of stars and extended it toward Glennis. "This belongs to you," she said, her voice low.
The Crochans murmured, shifting.
Glennis took the crown, and the stars dimmed. A small smile graced the crone's face.
"No," she said, "it does not."
Manon didn't move as Glennis lifted the crown and set it again on Manon's head.
Then the ancient witch knelt in the snow.
"What was stolen has been restored; what was lost has come home again. I hail thee, Manon Crochan, Queen of Witches."
Manon stood fast against the tremor that threatened to buckle her legs.
Stood fast as the other Crochans, Bronwen with them, dropped to a knee. Dorian, standing amongst them, smiled, brighter and freer than she'd ever seen.
And then the Thirteen knelt, two fingers going to their brows as they bowed their heads, fierce pride lighting their faces.
"Queen of Witches," Crochan and Blackbeak declared as one voice.
As one people.
#Chapter 55#Chapter 56#Kingdom of Ash#Sarah J. Maas#Manon Blackbeak#Dorian Havilliard#Manorian#Asterin Blackbeak#The Thirteen#first read#read along#read with me#no spoilers please#First Read along with me NO SPOILERS PLEASE though warning for post & tags up to KoA 56 & more reacts/notes/quotes in tags below#The witches-alone-Morath-Glennis-Petrah why-don’t be poisoned-THE CROWN-her braid-their hatred & fear yet her forward#beyond what we give-is that a wyrdmark?-she would not-she would stand-not then but now becuase a cause-SHE WAS NOT AFRAID#he listened to her/believed in her-they did not tremble-they did not yield-she would not kneel-they came for her too-for them she did this#THE SWORD-uh yeah same-GONE WAS THAT WITCH-from the flame-AND HERE WAS THE LAST CROCHAN QUEEN-I love her#the wind answered-a queen of two people-convinction in her hearts fearless in her eyes and utterly unstoppable-you went for me#well Ansel said-SHE CROWNED HERSELF-matching crowns?-a phantom breeze the chill-the witch queen brow bow-that’s what she learned#they ran from her-mercy?-a debt-and one paid-true queens rising-a literal Star-not her death to claim-Asterin-manon I fucking love you#it’s yours-QUEEN OF WITCHES-Dorian smiled🥹-him watching his wife like same-he is us-short king-Iltsm#A sign enough of their intentions if her grandmother's hair was in that plait. Battle. Annihilation.—HAIR HOLDS POWER PEOPLE#Manon Kin-Slayer… a real rich name coming from her#because YOU are afraid-I kept reading peachy nonsense lol-chills-I’m gonna go cry-I love her#A blade through the world-shorter-bi bbs-the way she knows-it's a mate thing I swear-I'm not anyone's-#if you want someone who will allow that then ur wrong-shell keep him alive-double lines in the sand-your afraid-the word majesty#not back not now-a queen-a true queen against the world-afraid of everything-home?-HOLY SHIT RUN-mother matron crone#You're afraid-I will not be afraid-coward-the fear of fear-run now-hold the line-retreat and live-You’re afraid. Yes she was. Of everything#Fly Well they've run for a long time they know-but she would not-the truth time
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pjo show better not cut out Crusty's Water Bed Palace i need to see percy bargain a man to his death
#stuff#pjo tv show#pjo#pjo tv#percy jackson#the lightning thief#i have feelings about that scene#i feel like it's the first time percy truly has to think on his feet and single handedly solve the problem#not by fighting his way out but by quick thinking#and yeah it's a little cheesy but it establishes a pattern that occurs a zillion more times in both pjo and hoo:#monsters being weak against celestial bronze imperial gold and Good Bargaining#anyway. it's an important scene for percy's character. it shows that he's not just some idiot with a sword#that he's starting to understand how to survive in this world of gods and monsters#and it isn't always swinging your weapon at the bad guy. sometimes it's trickery and wit#which is. of course. athena and annabeth's domain#i also just think that whole scene is very New Yorker Percy#'no way it'd work. for a big guy like you? cmon no WAY. alright show me'#like...percy if this demigod thing doesn't pan out you may have a future as a used car salesman yknow what i mean#in conclusion: rick i am trusting u. give us crustys water bed palace Or Give Me Death
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the word nutcase ☺️
”I always knew you were a nutcase,” Merovar said dully from the chaise where he was lounging, eyes closed as his face was lathered in a cream mask for his skin. “Trying to fall off the castle walls and die is a new one.”
“Oh, shut up and enjoy your stupid spa day,” Hemisi snapped while Link shuffled uncomfortably, both soaking wet and frazzled at being caught. “We were doing just fine until you told Dad about it.”
“That’s because I saw you two hanging off a buttress. Or, really, Link was hanging off a buttress while you were clinging to his legs.”
“We just slipped a little, we had it under control!”
Merovar peeked one eye open, blue staring into both teenagers. “Good luck convincing Father of that.”
Link sighed, knowing he probably had lost privileges to seeing his girlfriend for the next week.
#you ask skye answers#lovely anon#writing#Imprisoning war#hemisi#hero of power#merovar#Merovar: *minding his business and treating himself to a spa day*#Hemisi’s sword: *CLANGS AGAINST WINDOW AS SHE DROPS IT*#He got a minor heart attack and was very upset about it#Never mind that his sister and friend were about to fall to their deaths he just wanted to tattle on them because his vibe got ruined
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I’m in my hating Uther era (read:forever) REMEMBER WHEN HE HIT GWEN???
I’m actually ready to fight right now just thinking about it that was so??
#I think for a show where most of the violence was contained to sword and knights battle etc etc#Uthers violence towards women especially stands out to me#because the rest of the show was a lot of manly fist fights and masculine sword fights and wow I’m such a big strong man#and there really was very little violence against women from a power imbalance context#EXCEPT when it came to Uther#when he choked Morgana for example#or yes when he hit Gwen#those moments really stood out not only for his character but for the entire show#this was very badly put I apologise#but my point is that I hate Uther and his violence against women that have less power than him#and it’s interesting to look at that where it concerns Morgana#because yes#he loves her. she’s his daughter#but he still thinks he has more power than her#and he does on multiple occasions physically abuse her#anyway#I wish he’d died a far more painful death#bbc merlin#uther pendragon
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Post COD Hector:On a scale of 1 to 10, how hard it was to craft that Laser Sword? You know gathering the materials and all
*sigh* It cannot be quantified. I was lucky enough that my Tiramisu was able to decipher an ancient inscription in the Aiolon Ruins. If she weren't by my side, I would have never noticed it.
It is a long, tedious process. The swords required are all built over each other, meaning you have to forge multiple copies of the same sword. And some of the materials come from monsters that are reluctant to drop their treasure... I killed them over and over until I could not feel my arms attached to my body. Good thing I wasted most of my time in the Infinite Corridor, where time does not pass...
But it was worth it. The Laser Blade is as indeed as Sage Eneomaos promised. And Isaac seemed to agree...
#akumajou dracula#ask hector and isaac#hector castlevania#this is a lie btw#the laser blade is not worth the absolute fuckery you have to go through#the 7-bladed sword is already a bitch and a half to forge because you need 6 short swords and the beelzebub's seal#the latter having a pitiful drop rate#but at least it's dark elemental! it works against enemies weak to dark!#and *also* you need one to create the death's scythe!#so if you want to get some of the best weapons in the game you need to forge this fucker 3 times! and grind for the seal 3 times!#the laser blade has +55 atk which is not bad but it has nothing going on for it#unlike say the force gloves and their fuck you explosion#or the chauve-souris and the ability to create the end#or the estoc and its final attack#bruh it's worth it for the hilarious image of hector going around with a lightsaber but that's about it
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i’m staring desolately at a wall right now. why are minecraft men so sad and wet and cat
#having more c!jack manifold thoughts#this one has actually been rattling around in my brain for a little bit lmao#like. I wonder if he got a level of care he’d never gotten before when he died to techno#it wasn’t anything. they had duelled and techno at least respected him facing death for his cause#(I know jack tries to escape in canon. I do not use canon a day in my life 🩷)#techno probably didn’t even remember how jack’s face twisted in pain before his expression dropped in realization#he had an opponent who wasn’t his target and they were currently weighing down his sword by having it through their stomach#techno had paused and grabbed Jack’s shoulders. it was more of a push than setting him down on the newly unearthed cobblestone#(jack remembered how hot it was. the ground had already felt like a memory of the explosion)#that was all that happened. the sword was swiftly pulled out. the light left Jack’s eyes. techno continued on his way#but Jack always remembers the hands bringing his pale body to the ground#he never knew that the hand over his heart was an accidental placement while the sword was removed#eventually he doesn’t know where the warmth came from. he just knows there was warmth in that moment#when he dies clinging to netherrack that singes his hands and he feels seconds away from melting#the feeling of the burns against his skin on november 16th fade away#it’s only warmth. and when he gets desperate to get rid of everything in manifold land#and the flames dance too close to his arms. he feels warm. and he’ll never escape that feeling#c!jack manifold#maniposting
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Turns out reading the first version of the Fall of Gondolin is not very much like the version in the Silmarillion at all and I think I need to go lie down now actually.
Tolkien's PTSD and vivid ability to write battle scenes are way more apparent in the first one.
#im not saying anything deep here just that etchelions death is way worse when you realize its cos#he literally is so injured he cant even hold a sword anymore#glorfindel with his little knife against the fucking balrog#everything rog was doing#the fact 2 of the lords actually got out of there though one would fall defending elwing later#whatever loyalty kink voronwe has going on i want way more of#all the tolkien feels#vs does a text post
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ZORO LORE FINALLY ⁉️
#random minks against the cp0.... these poor people....#is sanji just running away having an existential crisis... omg girl moment#OH HE HURT A WOMAN!!!!! SANJI!!!!!! incredible how instead of a normal battle like zoro sanji got an internal emotional one.... incredible#THE EYEBROW FLIPPED!!!! THROW HIM MORE STUFF!!! omg just realised nami won't hurt him anymore... will she get hurt if she hits him now??#OH!!! of course he decided that.... sanji calling zoro??? he didn't even know he had one and he put it here???#hes gonna ask him to kill him??? I AM TELLING YOU THAT IS A MARRIAGE PROPOSITION!!!! OMG!!!! incredible#talking tag#watching one piece#episode 1057#this is incredible.... after the war if sanji looks weird at a woman zoro is just gonna take put his sword amd behead him.....#WAIT A FUCKING SECOND!!! HIYORI!!?? SHE SAID SHE WANTED TO KILL ORICHI AND SHE WILL!!! EXACTLY!!! STRAIGHT UP!!!#zoro get up!!!! get your ass up get your money up!!!! hiyori omg the music..... can you hear the music.... OMG ENMA CAN!!!! LETSGOOOOO#hiyori that was such a slay.... now slay!!! that man.#episode 1058#WILL THE CP0 KILL APOO???? FONALLY!!!! MAKE SURE HE DIES!!! COME ON!!!#NOOOOOOOOOO!!!! DRAKE NO DONT TEAM UP WITH HIM!!!#sanji and queen yapping while zoro and king fight to the death ajshaka#lunarian is the thing that marco said right.... sanji is right why did they get extinct then. rip bozos#sword lore sword lore!!!!!!#zoro is a little slow.... yeah wonder why....#episode 1059#wdym the marine will invade soon??? wtf#zoro saying it doesn't matter if someone is a man or a woman to be strong.... but zoro beating tashigi over and over is just....#zoro just being mad at her dead body oh......#is zoro controlling his swords by using his king's haki on them??? that's kinda insane#SO NOW HE CHANGED THE PROMISE TO KUINA FOR THE ONE WITH LUFFY??? OMG#nvm its bad translation.... he says to my captain and my best (girl) friend#i might be as slow as zoro... when he says i want to be strong enough for my name to arrive to the sky is so kuina can hear it.... damn....#episode 1060
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Idea: WoTB tarot cards
#kind of a mental note for me as i want to draw some eventually#others are welcome to do it too#faolan and edme (and fengo and stormfast) as the lovers#thunderheart's skull with the flowers growing out of it as death#maybe young faolan as the fool since that means new paths/beginnings/etc#the sark could be the magician maybe or the high priestess#the tower could be the volcanoes exploding/the beyond breaking#there's a lot of scenes for the world card but maybe faolan gnawing his first drumlyn or hunting#or the wolves going across the ice bridge#heep as the devil (greed and evil and jealousy)#justice would be old tooth killing heep or maybe edme going against dunbar#i think the star could involve faolan's paw mark. or maybe an owl? gwynneth? creakle and tully?#cathmor as queen of cups and duncan as king of...idk yet#the hermit - faolan in the cave before time or maybe as a loner or gnaw wolf?#five of wands - the gaddergnaw? four of swords - thunderheart hibernating?#the chariot - edme making the kill during the gaddergnaw hunt? or her joining the watch as a free runner?#the star could also certainly be the namara. maybe thunderheart finding faolan in the river?#queen of wands could be edme or the namara#six of pentacles - faolan helping the whistler hunt? or maybe the scene when the whistler got the rabbit blood#strength - edme. the world - faolan and edme winning the gaddergnaw? slaan leat or joining the watch?#the moon - faolan's paw mark and gyre souls?#maybe the world could also be the travelers arriving in the distant blue
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