#The Beta Ultima

[thatoneadhdseabunny]

Meet My OC! (Part Four)

For most of her outfits, she had Yellow as her main color, but I had tons of ideas for her, and lmk if you all want to see what these outfits looked like, I sketched a lot of ‘em, but for now, I'll just kind of describe what each one looked like.

PS: Some did change, some probably will change in the future :)

Pheonix Drop High S1/S2- Obviously, at school, she had her uniform, but she’d add little friendship bracelets to her wrist for each friend she made. (Though she didn’t give everyone the matching friendship bracelets until later, the first one to receive one being Aphmau.)

But outside of school, she tended to wear a brown oversized hoodie with black leggings. White headphones sat around her neck if they weren’t sitting atop her head. She wore white high tops, hand embroidered with little sunflowers on them. They weren’t good by any means, but they were handmade, and she loved them to death.🌻🌻🌻

Falcon Claw University- Her freshman year is rough, mentally and physically, so she just walks around in a black hoodie and some cut off shorts with rips in them. Her feet still clad in those sunflower shoes, though they don’t fit her anymore. You’d never guess she majored in fashion design.💛💛💛

Mystreet- A combination of her outfits for the last few years: The yellow hoodie from high school, though she usually perfers it unzipped now showing off a little sunflower motif on a white slightly cropped T-shirt. She always wears her cutoffs that somehow still fit from college, and will usually be seen in flip flops, and her nails are almost always painted a pretty green, so she can fidget when she needs to, and stop biting her nails like Aaron keeps telling her.

Love~Love Paradise- Kawaii~Chan insisted she pick a two piece. She should’ve listened to her gut. This season, she draws more attention to herself, in a pastel yellow halter Bikini with a white bottom skirt, also seen in flip flops. She’s also constantly wishing she could find a cover up. Although, she does tend to have Garroth’s arm around her shoulder… maybe that’ll warm her up.

Lover's Lane- It was a terrible choice on her part. She should’ve gone with KC and Katelyn. But she’s never been known for being smart. So as she sits, hiding in her room, trying to find a new pair of shoes, to match her of the shoulder yellow sweater and the white skirt that she tends to wear. Her Sunflower ones have been out of commission for a while now. Maybe she should get some new shoes at Mall Day?

Emerald Secret- Wears jeans with one of Garroth’s old sweaters and a white scarf, though said scarf doesn’t stay white for much longer.

Starlight- She finds a blue slightly cropped halter top to wear over her black bikini and she tends to pair it with a pair of dark blue denim shorts and she totally stole her flip flops from Melissa (don’t tell her though.)

When Angel's Fall- She wears Garroth’s Jacket from high school. He gave it to her two years back when she’d come over for a Frozen marathon, and she wears it whenever she’s stressed. She wears it over a pair of white shorts and a black tank top. She misses the good old days when she didn’t have to worry about how durable her outfit was.

[New!]

One Last Time- She has one of Garroth’s old T-shirts, or even jackets on at all times. With everyone still healing from when Angel’s fall, I don’t know what she’s supposed since [Redacted] would change everything for her.

{Side Rant- Tbh. I have yet to put any thought into this one, because season 7 is actually coming? And I'm excited about this, because (FINALLY !!!!!!!!!) I am a normal human being.]

[videogamepolls]

Requested by anon

[yodawgiheardyoulikemecha]

AW-2 Vultor by Alessandro Cazzaniga Via Flickr: Equip: 1× pulse rifle 1× solid shield 1× comm system 1× boost pack 1× SSR 🇬🇧The Blue Lab, constantly engaged in the search for new solutions and technologies, presents its latest work: the AW-2 Vultor mobile frame. It is a medium-sized multifunctional mech, similar to its predecessor AW-1, from which it differs in some characteristics: first of all, it is equipped with the "shoulder grip" system, which allows it to be transported even by small aircraft. It also has a greater number of mounting points; this makes it easier to adapt the various systems you want to equip it with. The latest generation plasma engines make it efficient and able to operate for long periods. The new armor in Mitrion protects him from projectiles but also from some types of energy weapons. Basically, the Vultor was born as a multifunctional frame; suitable for any type of work, both in the atmosphere and in orbit; if necessary it is adaptable to combat, using the appropriate systems. 🇬🇧Note: This build develops directly from the model: Mender. To make it more proportionate, I decided to reduce the width of the torso from three units to two, keeping the joints unchanged, namely: pneuma T for the hips and ball joint for the shoulders. During the creative process, I tried several solutions for the head, arriving at this one: Fairly generic, but seen before on this build: Miguel Vasallo's Vultor beta. 🇮🇹Il Blue Lab, impegnato costantemente nella ricerca di nuove soluzioni e tecnologie, presenta il suo ultimo lavoro: il mobile frame AW-2 Vultor. Si tratta di un mech polifunzionale di stazza media, simile al predecessore AW-1, dal quale si differenzia per alcune caratteristiche: innanzitutto è dotato del sistema "shoulder grip", che gli consente di essere trasportato anche da aeronavi di piccole dimensioni. Inoltre possiede un numero maggiore di punti di montaggio; ciò rende piu semplice adattare i vari sistemi di cui si desidera dotarlo. I motori al plasma di ultima generazione lo rendono efficente e in grado di operare per lunghi periodi. Le nuove corazze in Mitrion lo proteggono dai proiettili ma anche da alcuni tipi di armi energetiche. Di base, il Vultor nasce come frame polifunzionale; adatto ad ogni tipo di lavoro, sia in atmosfera che in orbita; all'occorrenza è adattabile al combattimento, utilizzando i sistemi appropriati. 🇮🇹Note: questa build si sviluppa direttamente dal modello: Mender. Per renderlo piu proporzionato, ho deciso di ridurre la larghezza del torso da tre unità a due, mantenendo inalterate le articolazioni, ovvero: pneuma T per le anche e ball joint per le spalle. Durante il processo creativo, ho provato diverse soluzioni per la testa, arrivando a questa: abbastanza generica, ma vista in precedenza su questa build: Vultor beta di Miguel Vasallo. Mender: flic.kr/p/2qCX2UL Vultor Beta by Miguel Vasallo: flic.kr/p/mzMxDB

[scionshtola]

where the hurt nests - part 3

pairing: Corisande Ymir/Y'shtola Rhul word count: 4.9k | rated: Mature | read on ao3 | part 1 | part 2 summary: After recovering from the events of Ultima Thule, Corisande retreats to their private island getaway. When Y'shtola arrives for a visit, she can't shake the feeling that Corisande's pleasant moods are an act-a feeling only perpetuated by their continuing reluctance to tell her what exactly takes place in the nightmares that have haunted them for moons. notes: part 3 of 3. set between 6.0 and 6.1, very big 6.0 spoilers. [divider credit] it's done! and now that it's done, I would very much like to thank Azia for beta reading, rubber ducking, and generally encouraging me even before I actually started writing this 💗 and thank you to Gigi, Dani, and Hannah for letting me talk about this fic for the last year and a half! I appreciate all of you so much <3 and ty to everyone who has read it since it's been posted, it means a lot to me!

By the time morning arrived, the skies had cleared. The sun shone warmly over the island and a pleasant breeze moved through the clearing, the air fresh after a day of rain. They walked down to the beach after lunch, keen to be out of the cabin despite the dripping foliage and the still damp sand. Corisande carried two beach chairs folded under their arms, which they set up beneath an umbrella outside the reach of the tide, waving off Y’shtola’s offers of assistance.

Not long after Y’shtola stretched out on her chair, book in hand and prepared to settle into a contented quiet, Corisande abandoned their own chair in favor of lying in Y’shtola’s lap. They kissed her softly, their lips parting gently over hers, one arm wrapped around her waist beneath the thin cover-up she had pulled on over her swimsuit. Y’shtola allowed this simple return to normalcy, pulling them closer to trade lazy kisses, hands and lips moving tenderly over sun-warmed skin.

They passed much of the afternoon in each other’s arms, the gentle wash of the tide their backdrop. Corisande curled her legs beneath Y’shtola’s thighs, resting her head on Y’shtola’s shoulder while she read. She seemed to dip in and out of consciousness as the afternoon wore on, her breathing growing slow and even every few minutes before she shook herself awake again.

“You ought to let yourself rest,” Y’shtola said when Corisande’s head drooped yet again. As content as she was wrapped in their arms, it was difficult to concentrate with the constant movement in her periphery.

“’m fine,” Corisande mumbled into her neck. “If I sleep now, it will be even more difficult to sleep tonight.”

“You have not slept through the night in several days,” Y’shtola pointed out. “’Twould do you well to rest when you can.”

Corisande stiffened, their arms tensing around her before they disentangled themself from Y’shtola with a sigh. They pushed themself into a sitting position, their back to Y’shtola as they spoke. “I am fine, Shtola. I only need to occupy myself.”

“Your days have been filled with occupations.” Y’shtola closed her book and sat up. “Hiking around the island, swimming, cooking—and yet still you do not sleep.”

“Shtola,” Corisande pleaded, her fingers gripping the edge of the chair. “I do not wish to talk about this. Please, let us find another subject.”

But now that the subject had been broached, Y’shtola was not yet willing to let go. “I have kept my concerns to myself, with the hope they would prove unfounded, but the last few days have shown I am right to be worried about you.”

Corisande rose stiffly from the chair and put several steps of distance between them. Y’shtola continued, though they kept their back to her. “I have tried to be patient, to allow you the time needed to heal on your own, but I fear doing so has only exacerbated the situation beyond your control.”

“’Tis not beyond my control-”

“I have never seen you so upset as you were last night,” Y’shtola interrupted, rising from the chair as she spoke. “What would you have me do, when you refuse to tell me anything of your nightmares? When you do not allow me to alleviate any of your concerns? Stay silent while you wake in terror every night? ”

Corisande finally turned toward her, arms crossed as if to protect themself. “They are only dreams. I do not wish to speak of what is not real.”

“The dreams may not be real, but the effect they have on you most certainly is,” Y’shtola said. She kept her voice as level as she could—she did not wish to argue with them, but she could no longer abide the pedantry they engaged in to avoid her questions. “And on myself, as well.”

Corisande’s brow knitted, and their voice was threaded with guilt when they spoke. “I know the sleepless nights are hard on you.”

“’Tis not the lack of sleep that bothers me,” Y’shtola insisted. “Not on my behalf, in any case. ‘Tis the pain in your voice when you speak of death, and holding you in my arms while your desire to live causes you to sob.‘Tis the weeks and weeks of waking to you calling for me—in pain, in fear, in worry—and not being told the reason for it.”

“The reason does not matter,” Corisande said quietly. “You are there when I wake. That is enough.”

“It matters to me,” Y’shtola said. Perhaps it would be enough if the nightmares were less numerous, or less affecting, or if they did not so consistently check on her the moment they woke. But she was certain there was more to it than simply finding comfort in her arms. “I do not need to know the details of every dream, but I can no longer wonder if your nightmares—your searching cries of my name—are caused by thoughts of me abandoning you.”

Corisande frowned, their lips pressed into a line. They turned away from her, looking out over the ocean. “They are unfair to you. Unkind.”

The admission seemed to confirm her worries, rather than quell them, but she refrained from jumping to any further conclusions. She had already guessed that Corisande, as kind as they were, sought to spare her feelings by keeping their own to themself. “’Tis, perhaps, more unkind to keep it from me.”

They looked over their shoulder at her, and, sensing their grief in the silence that followed, Y’shtola let them take her hand. When they spoke again, it was with resignation in their tone. “Please, Shtola. Let it be enough that you are there when I wake.”

“’Tis not enough.” Y’shtola pulled her hand from their grasp. Corisande’s crestfallen expression cut at her, the guilt as sharp as a blade. “I am not always there when you wake, and your nightmares have only worsened in the time we have spent apart. How can I help you if you will not tell me the full extent of the problem?”

Corisande’s lips parted as if they planned to speak, but the hope that flared within Y’shtola dwindled when they only sighed.

“You need not do anything,” Corisande said quietly. “They are only dreams.”

The deflection stung. She felt suddenly and unexpectedly foolish, laying her concerns bare as she had, only to have them discounted once more.

“If my concerns are not tangible enough for consideration, perhaps the changes to your aether will warrant the truth,” Y’shtola said sharply.

“My aether has changed?” Genuine concern lined the question, and Y’shtola felt a guilty swell of satisfaction at having finally drawn an appropriate reaction.

“It has been strained in recent days, some days more than other. I noticed it the day I arrived. I have yet to deduce a cause, though there is some correlation with the days you do not sleep well. Still, it is of some concern to me, and for good reason.” The sight of Corisande’s battered soul, overflowing with so much light aether that they became little more than a body of light to Y’shtola’s eyes, still haunted her.

Corisande turned away again, and the defeated slump of their shoulders made realization dawn on Y’shtola.

“You know the cause?” Y’shtola started to reach for them, but thought better of it, letting her hand drop to her side.

They did not look at her when they replied. “’Tis not the nightmares.”

Y’shtola had neither the will nor the patience to wait for them to work up to revealing the answer. “Corisande, if you know the cause, please do not keep it to yourself.”

Corisande was silent. Y’shtola held herself back from repeating the question. What had happened, that they would risk such changes to their aether?

Finally, they let out a resigned sigh. “I have been trying to cast again.”

Y’shtola’s stomach dropped in disbelief. “You know the risks of pushing your ability to channel aether beyond its current capabilities. Why would you not tell me? And when have you even had the time to do so?”

“I am sorry.” Corisande’s voice quavered with her words. “I go to a clearing north of the cabin some mornings, before you wake. I thought I could regain my abilities on my own. I did not wish to speak of it until I had done so.”

“Another matter you do not wish to speak of, no matter the detriment to yourself,” Y’shtola said bitterly. The realization that Corisande had not only not asked for her help but deliberately kept this from her stung more than their earlier deflections. “You are as versed as I am in the study of aether, more than well enough to know the risks of pushing yourself too far, yet you pursed this on your own anyway?”

“And what would you do, were you me?” Corisande turned sharply in her direction. “Bide your time resting, in the vain hope that the problem will fix itself? I do not believe that.”

“I would ask the person most familiar with my aether for her assistance,” Y’shtola insisted. “Particularly if she can see aether while I cannot.”

“I did not wish—”

“I am not asking you to tell just anyone, Corisande.” Y’shtola cut in. “I am asking you to tell me.”

Silence fell. They stood in it for a moment, no noise other than the tide washing in, the air between them growing heavy with their discomfort.

“I was afraid.” Corisande broke the silence, her voice still shaking. “That if I waited any longer, I would be rendered permanently incapable of summoning again.”

“There is no reason to believe that,” Y’shtola pushed back, hoping to make Corisande see reason. “We do not have enough information, and you have spent the past several months recovering from incredibly dangerous injuries. You need rest, and to allow your aether to replenish itself. You are perfectly capable of utilizing other skills in the meantime.”

Corisande shook her head. “You would not be so content to wait in my position, if you know what this absence felt like.”

“I cannot know how you feel if you do not tell me,” Y’shtola said, exasperated at returning to this point of contention yet again. “But I do know something of absence, or have you forgotten that I do not see as you do?”

“And how long did you wait before you began channeling your aether to see? It drains you, exhausts you, but you do it. Yet you lecture me on the safety of my own practices?”

The touch of petulance in their tone surprised her. In all the years she had known them, she could not recall them speaking to anyone this way, and certainly not to her. “Because you are taking risks alone. By yourself, on an island, where no one can help you if something were to go wrong.”

Corisande opened her mouth, but Y’shtola spoke first. She kept her voice level, despite the anguish behind her words. “I witnessed your soul strain with the changes to your aether once before. Please do not ask me to sit idly by while I see what is wrought on it now.”

Corisande stood rigidly before Y’shtola, her lips pressed into a thin line, and then all at once she seemed to fold in on herself. Y’shtola’s eyes widened as Corisande sank to the sand, her knees pulled to her chest, her arms wrapped around them. Y’shtola knelt in the sand next to her, resting her hand on Corisande’s shoulder.

“’Tis not only the absence.” They spoke quietly, their head down, their shoulders tensed beneath Y’shtola’s touch. “When I reach for my aether and cannot grasp it, I do not feel like myself.”

“Of course not,” Y’shtola said. Corisande had been practicing summoning long before they had ever met, ‘twas only natural that an inability to channel aether would leave her unmoored.

“It feels as if I am—as if—” Corisande cut herself off with a shuddered breath. Her shoulders shook with it, and Y’shtola’s resolve to hear her out trembled along with it. She squeezed her shoulder gently, to keep herself from pulling her into her arms. Corisande took a deep breath, steadying herself, but her words still came out half a sob. “It feels as if this body is not my own.”

An ache throbbed in Y’shtola’s chest, even as her mind raced forward. Corisande had not been able to channel aether since the day her soul had been forced from her body and into that of an Imperial soldier—’twas no wonder that any failed attempts to do so now made her feel as she had on that day, nor that she was so keen to move past it.

Corisande’s harsh, shallow breathing interrupted Y’shtola’s thoughts. They pressed their forehead to their knees, hiding their face as they struggled to breathe. Y’shtola had rarely ever seen them in such a state, and only ever after waking from a nightmare. The sudden oncoming in the middle of the day was so unexpected that for a moment she could only blink, unsure of what to do.

When another sob escaped them, Y’shtola shoved the uncertainty aside. She came around to the space in front of them and took them by the shoulders, pushing them gently but firmly until Corisande lifted their head. She cupped their cheeks with both hands, wiping the tears that fell away with her thumbs. She spoke to them quietly, reassurances and gentle commands to breathe.

It seemed to work. Corisande lifted her own hand to wrap her fingers around Y’shtola’s wrist, and her pained expression softened as she turned into the touch. Her breathing slowed to match the deep breaths Y’shtola modeled for her, but she did not loosen her grip.

“I’m sorry,” Corisande said quietly. Fresh tears fell onto Y’shtola’s wrist. “Shtola, I thought I—”

“’Tis all right, my love,” Y’shtola said, when Corisande could not finish their sentence. Her own hurt and anger felt distant, swept from the forefront of her mind by the distinct pang in her chest for Corisande. She took their hand. “Whatever else there is to discuss, we can save it for another time.”

Y’shtola had expected that to come as some relief to Corisande, but she had no time to assess their expression before they leaned into her, their long ears wilting as they laid their cheek on her shoulder. She held them there on the beach, her arms wrapped around them, the ache in her chest growing, until the wet drop of their tears dried to salt on Y’shtola’s shoulder.

—

They held hands as they walked back to the cabin, but neither of them spoke. The conversation, the admissions—and lack thereof—still lingered somberly in the air between them.

When they arrived, they both went upstairs to change. Y’shtola swapped her beachwear for a loose top and trousers, and Corisande discarded hers for a sturdier set of clothes she often wore for gathering.

“Is there naught I can do to convince you to rest?” Y’shtola asked as they laced up their boots.

“I need to do some work in the garden.” Corisande stood, and came around to Y’shtola’s side of the bed. She leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Y’shtola’s cheek, easing some of the tension Y’shtola felt. “I’ll come in soon.”

Y’shtola nodded. She followed them downstairs and tried to make herself comfortable on the sofa, where she could not easily see the garden. She passed three-quarters of a bell there, flipping through the pages of a book she had already read, until the need to do something became too strong. She rose to make tea, steeping a floral blend that Corisande favored. They arrived back at the cabin not long after, a few peppers for dinner in hand, and Y’shtola poured them a cup while they took off their muddy boots, gratified when they accepted it with a tired but sincere smile.

Corisande remained quiet through the rest of the afternoon, speaking little through dinner and the early evening, but her demeanor lacked the impatience and restlessness it had taken on the day before. They seemed to be tired, more than anything, and they stayed close to Y’shtola, retiring with her to the sofa after dinner and tangling their feet together as they relaxed.

Y’shtola went to bed first, and she nearly drifted off before she felt the bed dip, the quilt rustling quietly as Corisande climbed beneath it. They laid down facing her, close but not touching, and the distance, however small, pricked sharply at her.

She reached for their hand, pressing their palms together, and relief washed through her when they laced their fingers through hers. She fell asleep quickly after that, comfortable, their hands entwined warmly between them.

—

Corisande’s side of the bed was empty when Y’shtola woke. At first, she assumed she had slept until morning and they had simply risen earlier than her, but the chill and the too quiet stillness of the cabin suggested she had woken in the middle of the night.

She found Corisande downstairs. They sat facing the ocean, their back against the arm of the sofa, hugging their knees to their chest. They turned to her when she descended the stairs, watching her approach.

“I did not hear you wake.” Y’shtola stopped beside the sofa. “Did you have another nightmare?”

Corisande shook her head. “I couldn’t sleep. I came down here so I would not wake you, but it seems my precautions were for naught.”

“Do you need anything?” Y’shtola asked, not certain what she should do. They did not seem to be upset, but insomnia certainly did not indicate an untroubled mind. “Perhaps some tea will help you fall asleep.”

Corisande shook her head again. A heavy beat of silence passed before she spoke. “I know these past several months have been difficult—that I have been difficult—but I am grateful you are here.”

“I am not one to be put off by hardship.” Y’shtola sat beside them on the sofa and touched their arm lightly, smoothing her thumb over their forearm, brushing against the edge of their scarred skin. “I will always choose to be at your side. I only ask that you allow me to bear your burdens as well, so that I may do what I can to ease your hardship.”

“You have done much already. More than I had a right to expect.” Corisande put her hand over Y’shtola’s, squeezing gently.

“You expect far too little, then. You ought to ask for more.”

Corisande laughed softly, and the sound of it warmed her. They lifted Y’shtola’s hand to their lips and pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles that made her heart ache. “Go back to bed, my love.”

Corisande released her hand, but Y’shtola made no move to rise. It did not seem right, leaving them alone in the too still night with only the thoughts that kept them awake. “I would like to stay.”

They hesitated, but Y’shtola felt the sincere acceptance in their nod. She moved over on the sofa and Corisande followed her lead without argument, shifting onto their side and laying their head in Y’shtola’s lap. Y’shtola stroked their ears gently, listening to their quiet breaths and the soft roar of the ocean as she turned the day’s conversations over in her mind.

Corisande insisted that Y’shtola had done much for her already, but what exactly had she done for them since arriving on the island? What had she done for them since they left the infirmary in Old Sharlayan? She was there when Corisande woke, she was there when they wanted to kiss and cuddle rather than speak, but she had yet to do anything to materially benefit their recovery. And wasn’t that why she had come? Hadn’t those five words that had brought her here—Come soon, if you can—seemed an urgent plea from someone so understated, so reluctant to ever ask for help? Hadn’t she hoped to observe the scope of their well-being, and do what she could to help?

As reticent as they were with their troubles, it had been difficult to do much for them. But as reluctant as they were to discuss their nightmares, they had finally given her something to work with. She understood now just how much losing their ability to cast had hurt them. They were clearly not willing to give up their quest to regain their abilities, and Y’shtola could hardly blame them for that. But neither was she willing to leave them to solve the problem on their own.

She glanced down at Corisande, peaceful in their sleep for the first time in days, and a powerful resolve overcame her. Now that she had a modicum of information, she could act in a way unavailable to her prior. Tomorrow, she would set about doing her best to ensure Corisande regained her ability to cast.

—

Morning had truly arrived by the time Corisande woke. They sat up quickly, offering profuse apologies to Y’shtola that she only waved off. Y’shtola made them promise not to do any casting on their own, to which they readily agreed, and went upstairs for a nap. Satisfied with the sincerity of their promise—they may have kept a secret from her, but they were not one for lies—she was able to quickly and comfortably fall asleep.

‘Twas late afternoon when she woke again. Corisande had not yet returned to the cabin, but that was no matter. Y’shtola had plenty of time while they slept to think over the matter of Corisande’s casting, and now that she was rested, she was keen to put the plan into action.

She was making a list of questions she would need answered before moving forward when Corisande ascended the stairs. Y’shtola rose, coming around to greet them when they sat on the edge of the bed.

“You have returned just in time. I have some questions, if you are willing to answer them,” Y’shtola said.

“Shtola—”

“About your casting,” she clarified, noticing how stiffly they sat. “And I will need you to try to cast, if you are up for it. Not today, of course, whenever you feel ready—”

“Shtola.” The gravity with which they said her name brought Y’shtola up short. She waited for them to speak, a sudden slight trepidation sparking in her stomach. “I have been thinking about what you said to me on the beach.”

Y’shtola had gone over that conversation in her mind for hours while Corisande slept, trying to glean what information she could, and come away with the feeling that perhaps she could have been less reproachful. She kept her voice level when spoke. “Many things were  said yesterday. Perhaps not all of them need be treated with the same consideration.”

“I think you were right,” Corisande said, as if Y’shtola had not spoken. “I have been unfair to you, Shtola. Worse, I have been unkind.”

A pit bloomed suddenly in Y’shtola’s chest, a small but deep worry clawing its way out as they took her hand. They pressed their lips to her hand before continuing.

“Everything was going so well when you arrived.” Corisande ran her thumb gently across Y’shtola’s knuckles. “I hoped it would last. I hoped neither of us would have to contend with the nightmares any longer, and I thought talking about any of it would jeopardize any chance of peace.”

Y’shtola brushed a curl out of Corisande’s eyes. “’Tis an understandable, if misguided, instinct.” She smiled, and cupped Corisande’s cheek as she spoke. “’Tis not anything that we cannot resolve together going forward.”

Corisande did not smile back. They closed their eyes, and Y’shtola’s heart fell. She recognized the way they steeled themself, had seen it over and over again throughout the years.

“I cannot see a way forward that does not cause you pain.” Corisande’s voice was almost hoarse, thick with emotion as she spoke. “I cannot see a future for us that is kind to you.”

A cold nausea worked its way from Y’shtola’s stomach to her throat. “What do you mean by that?”

They took a deep breath, and opened their eyes to look at her. “I have been hurting you for months, and I do not wish to do so any longer. The only way I can see to do that is—”

They cut themself off, pressing their lips together as they fought a hitch in their breath. The silent pause that followed weighed Y’shtola with a heavy dread that only grew the longer the moment drew out.

“—is to bring our relationship to an end.”

The very ground Y’shtola stood on seemed to crumble beneath her. She felt caught in a landslide, her heart and her hope slipping rapidly out of her reach.

“Surely you cannot mean that,” she said, latching on with both hands to the last bit of hope she could. “It hardly seems necessary.”

Corisande’s silence pained her. She felt almost winded, as if she had been struck a heavy blow. “You have slept little, and arrived rather rapidly at this conclusion. Perhaps you should reconsider after some rest, and include me in the decision process this time.”

Corisande shook her head. “I have given it much thought already, Shtola. ‘Tis better for us to part ways now, before I can visit even more unkindness on you than I have already.”

“And what about this unkindness?” Y’shtola asked, embarrassed by the way the hurt had worked its way into her voice. “If your aim was to prevent any further pain to me, you have sorely fallen short.”

“I know.” The grief in Corisande’s voice echoed within Y’shtola, mirrored in the way she still clung tightly, hopefully, to their hand. Her mind worked quickly, racing with solutions, something she could say that would bring an end to this deep and cutting ache—a kind of agony she had never known before. Something that would convince Corisande to take back her words. She could say she was fine not knowing anything of what haunted Corisande’s dreams, that they only had to speak of what Corisande wished to speak of, that she could let it all go, if they could, too.

None of it would be the truth.

In the end, she said nothing, only let Corisande pull her in with their hands on her waist. With Corisande sitting, they were almost the same height, and Y’shtola only had to bend her neck slightly to press her forehead to theirs. She lost track of how long they stayed that way, her hand on the back of their neck, their hands curled around her waist, warm through the fabric of her dress.

“I love you,” Corisande said softly, a quiet breath shared between them. “I want you to be happy.”

The ache in Y’shtola’s heart throbbed painfully. She tilted her head, closing the distance between them with a kiss. Corisande’s hands tightened on her waist, and a second later they were pulling her closer, their lips parting beneath Y’shtola’s.

Corisande let Y’shtola push her gently back onto the bed, pulled her along until their bodies pressed flush together. Her hands slipped beneath Y’shtola’s dress, soft and warm in their caresses, and Y’shtola met the gentleness of her touches with her own.

When the first tears fell down Corisande’s cheeks, Y’shtola wiped them away and kissed the salted tracks they left behind. She held her close as they moved together, each touch tinged with finality, and a longing for what they already missed.

Y’shtola had fought for Corisande before. She had hoped and prayed so fervently for Corisande to return to her that she had bent the universe to her will and made it so.

But just as before, there was naught she could do to keep them from choosing to go alone.

***

Corisande watched the tide roll in.

Y’shtola had left in the gray of the morning, teleporting to the aetheryte at the Moraby Drydocks, and taken Corisande’s shattered heart with her.

It was for the best. That was what she had to tell herself, over and over, to keep from taking it all back. She could not give Y’shtola the kindness and the openness she deserved. She had hardly been able to speak of the way her hindered casting affected her. How many more painful nights until Corisande worked up the strength to tell Y’shtola of the things that haunted her? Until she could admit she often dreamed of Y’shtola’s death over and over again, her very being unraveling before Corisande’s eyes? Or that sometimes Zenos loomed over her, bearing down upon her with his sword, and other times she stood over him, her boots spattered with blood, and she did not know which was worse?

They had already hurt Y’shtola enough. They would not make her suffer for them any longer.

She hugged her knees to her chest, reaching for the will to face the empty cabin. They only had themself to blame for the way it seemed too quiet now, the island too vast and empty. For the hollowness in their chest, a void they had torn open in themself.

When the sun finally cleared the horizon, and the pink sky faded into a too perfect blue, they rose to their feet. Baldin would be arriving soon to retrieve the luggage that Y’shtola had left behind, and for this, at least, Corisande would not make her wait.

[southseascion]

Mitan and Romances

A lore peek through the love life and internal workings of Mitan's affections

Mitan was raised as many small children, particularly little girls, are. She was read stories of fanciful loves, fictional and historic, including the tale of the Sultan of Ul'dah and his kind merchant bride that came to be in her lifetime. But her ideals of love weren't mere writings and gossip. Her family was one whirlwind romance after another:

Her grandfather was best of friends with her grandmother, and he would have his eye forever injured saving her from a stubborn suitor, being nursed back to health by his would be wife as thanks.

Her mother came on a trade ship and brought her father to pitch his wares in the city, the two growing closer as they travelled together. Even when he was believed dead, her mother could never muster such strong emotion for anyone else. (Even their later reunion would be a lovely time)

A Viera man was a stowaway on the same ship her mother came in on and was injured in the hull, so her aunt, a chirurgeon in training, would help him to recovery. Eager to stay far from the jungles he ran from, he would help any way he could, but he grew to most like her approval and attention.

In short, she had dreamed of her turn at love from a young age, but her duties as eldest would keep her mind on helping the family.

Their island was known for produce and handcrafts, but there are prominent magicks users in the staple families, including her own. One such had a son, popular among elders and younger folk, that was quite skilled in this magicks. Some time after coming of age, Mitan was approached by him with a plea to court her for marriage, and though she hadn't considered him before, it felt best to agree. Everyone seemed to like him, their family elders were council seats, and she had no reason to refuse. However, as if by fate, she would be asked by traders if she was interested in helping on their routes rather than just the docks, something she had to think on considering her station as eldest. On an evening out with her suitor, she would speak of her curiosity for the world beyond the horizons that her father sought out, if the stories of sights and adventure were true to their word... only to be stopped short with an unwarranted kiss. In that moment, it was clear to her that staying with him would take more choices away from her than that. With her grandparents and mother's support, she was allowed to make her first voyage outward on the next ship to depart, but upon her return, her former suitor had engaged another, hopeful more grateful bride.

Mitan would remain single for her time as a shipmate, and would continue to be so as an adventurer, allowing for emotional growth and self discovery without the general chaos of a dating life on top of all else. From this, she was able to find new things about her way of affection:

She is attracted to strength of all kinds. Mind, body, and spirit must be in peak form; the strength of spirit can be a strong morale system and/or passion for their desires.

Her preference is for body size but not for gender presentation. She grew up with physical affection and being unable to do so with ease and comfort would sour her quickly, but she has no such hang-up on genders.

Sensual thoughts are hardly existent for herself and others unless she is fully trusting and emotionally connected to someone, and even then she's known to disregard changing dear friends to lovers.

Things would take a turn when she met her late husband, Beta, after her return from Ultima Thule. The two were linked the second they laid eyes on each other and were inseparable for the entirety of that winter, making quite the impression on the Starlight ball scene. During the Valentione celebration, she would be engaged and quickly married, and the two would live their workaholic lives side by side, joining together at home for a bit of peace. Fate would not be kind to them, however, as Beta would pass a year into their marriage. Whilst Mitan was away on business in Tural, he would be called to assist a client but face dangers that would take all on his vessel, losing him to the sea. Unlike the loss of her father, this was easy to prove with her bonding ring losing all glint and the tattered remains of what was their ship floated to the Turali coast.

It has been nearly a year since then. Through a journey of recovery with her family, notably performing proper rights and returning to her faith in nature's cycle to assist in her mourning, she has returned to work in Tural under her position as a Students field researcher.

Just as she hadn't before, she won't intently seek out a new partner, but she follows the will of fate. Should she be asked by a suitable person, it is up to her what she chooses at that time.

[curenone]

ffxvi verse.

ardyn caelum was born into the beginning of it all. where towns and kingdoms were to be established , where the blessing of the mothercrystals were almighty. his story begins with three: an oracle , a leader , and a healer. he was a man led by faith , blessed by the crystal to heal the blight which had began to creep among the edge of their new yet unnamed kingdom. the more he healed , the more blight he would absorb into his once empty vessel. maintenance of the lands was day around , traveling long distances over weeks and months to restore farms to their former glory & comfort the towns which had suffered for way too long in his eyes. the blight would take his strength , stone beginning to form starting from his chest and spreading out.

it would not take long for ardyn and his brother to start to have differing opinions , ardyn pledging to his people that he would heal the lands from the blight while somnus saw his healing as only preventing the inevitable. for ardyn can only heal so much , & his blessing was a curse itself by offering the false hope that one man could protect them all from it. for the mothercrystal would protect them , & it would only be a matter of time before they must protect their land from those far past their own. somnus was envious of his brother for he was able to use magic without the use of crystals entirely , he was convinced that it was unfair that only he would have access to this power while the rest of population could not have it at their beck & call. the eve of the proclamation of their kingdom slowly had gotten closer , each brother backed by their own groups of supporters , as they stood in front of the mothercrystal.

the oracle had been in contact with the mothercrystal , that one was to be proclaimed rightful king , & would have the right to name their land & lead them to prosperity. yet , what led was betrayal. somnus proclaimed himself as the chosen king , as the mothercrystal had told the oracle. for it would not be long until ardyn would encompass the blight , that he would become their downfall. it was his mission to slay this would-be monster ⸺ but the blade did not strike ardyn , & instead struck his beloved oracle , aera. it did not take long for her to pass , & struck by grief , it is only then that the blight he had held for so long began to seep from his features. his brother's blade struck true & deep into his heart. it was then , he had turned to stone. unmoving & presumed dead, he was buried underneath an unmarked grave far , far from the newly named kingdom , sidus.

but one day , thousands of years past his time , the stone had cracked away. he is alive , & there is a voice which entices him. there is rage , there is betrayal , & it is only then he knows the truth. he was meant to be king , & somnus' kingdom will fall.

this is heavily influenced by @royalarms's ffxvi verse! some more notes:

just for funsies i'm marking ardyn down as the first bearer. as the years go by , more and more are born. yet he would be the first recorded one in history , at least , before he was erased by it. knowing how bearers are treated in the current age , it brings him another motivating factor to simply destroy it all. bearer's are cursed to die , so why did he not ? how dare these kingdoms treat their own people as such ? is it all even worth it ? (correct answer 4 ardyn: absolutely not, burn it all to the ground.)

ardyn is able to now release the blight he had absorbed from the land. since blight is a side effect of aether , it is unknown if this was meant to happen since ardyn was only meant to be kind of the clean up crew & he was the beta version of it. it didn't work , so ultima did not have more humans have this power. it works out in the end , however , as ultima may find ardyn alive & need him to wipe out noctis since he is activity attempting to purify the land. ultima is just waiting for the game over screen , so it would be easier to just spread blight , have everything disappear , & start over , than to have noctis continue expelling the aether he had been collecting via mothercrystals.

he might have or might have not been an influence behind the downfall of sidus , for it was the first thing off his checklist. it is only after a few years that he notices that the blight has given him a sort of immunity to dying , just as the blight cannot just be erased. he cannot use epic shadow teleportation , however , he is able to disguise himself as those who had been killed & decayed by blight or by his own hand. a few years after that , somehow ardyn gets whereabouts of a living royal from sidus. he begins to search the lands for this royal , creeping ever closer with a few encounters. it seems he is always able to slip away.

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Garabatos Randoms

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/jCy91Gr by mcondosnn ... Muchos garabatos/bocetos de distintos barcos, húndete con ello o dejalo zarpar. Words: 21, Chapters: 5/?, Language: Español Fandoms: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale, Avatar: The Last Airbender (Cartoon 2005), House of the Dragon (TV), Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: InuYasha (InuYasha), Sesshoumaru (InuYasha), Aang (Avatar), Zuko (Avatar), Lucerys Velaryon (Son of Rhaenyra), Aemond "One-Eye" Targaryen, Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne Relationships: InuYasha/Sesshoumaru (InuYasha), Aang/Zuko (Avatar), Aemond "One-Eye" Targaryen/Lucerys Velaryon (Son of Rhaenyra), Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne Additional Tags: Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Omega Verse, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Digital Art, bocetos más que todo, Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied Mpreg, Domestic Fluff, Intersex Omegas, esta última puede no ser muy importante, pero en ocaciones me da la locura a las tres de la mañana así que quién sabe, Dubious Morality, esta ultima tambien la pongo por mis ataques espontáneos de locuras, don´t everyone is omegaverse read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/jCy91Gr

[robo-writing]

bc carrots are just essentially the only good way to get beta-carotene into ur body ontop of the vitamin A, i know joshua’s sickly victorian orphan body is severely lacking in important minerals and vitamins.

i think you COULD eventually force him to eat the size equivalent of 5 baby carrots if u genuinely threaten divorce/breaking things off if he’s unfortunately in the tail end of a sick period or complaining about dry eyes (guess what carrots solve…)

he holds it over ur head forever, he doesn’t hold becoming a cage for ultima over clive’s head at all- that’s an act of love, but he always brings up the time you “unethically forced him” to eat “a plate full of carrots” and how he did it without throwing up. you owe him, forever. the only way to settle that debt is to get married immediately (get married a second time if ur already 🤞🤞🤞 locked n loaded) and bake him sweeties whenever he asks

Again, major fucking drama queen alert!!! Carrots won’t kill you man, please just eat some vitamins!! It is not that serious!!

[sebasgb]

Los mejores juegos estilo Metroidvania

La finalidad de este blog es comentar sobre este tipo de juegos de exploración y búsqueda de objetos los cuales nos pueden mantener pegados días enteros a la silla.

El termino Metroidvania proviene del la unión del nombre de 2 juegos: Metroid y Castlevania, juegos los cuales disponen de un mapa amplio para explorar, también disponen de zonas ocultas con múltiples jefes principales los cuales hacen posible la continuidad de la historia y jefes ocultos los cuales desbloquean finales secundarios a la historia principal, también poseen mejoras para el personaje o NPC´s que nos ayudan a lo largo de la historia que escojamos .

Como primera entrada tenemos a Hollow Knight, un juego desarrollado por Ari Gibson y William Pellen. El videojuego incita a la exploración de si amplio mapa por lo mismo cuenta con múltiples enemigos y jefes los cuales constan de una dificultad progresiva. Este juego conta de múltiples finales los cuales se obtienen derrotando ciertos jefes o ayudando a ciertos NPC´s dentro de la aventura. Este mismo se encuentra en proceso de tener una secuela la cual fue retrasada por ciertos inconvenientes con la plataforma UNITY por lo cual se lanzara oficialmente en el año 2024.

La segunda entrada de este juego pertenece a Blasphemus, un juego que fue desarrollado por The Game Kitchen. Este consta de distintos finales según las decisiones que tomemos dentro del mismo. Disponde de 3 DLCS los cuales expanden la historia del juego, estos son: Stir of Down, Strife and Ruin y por ultimo Wounds of Eventide el cual proporciona un tercer final que no se encuentra dentro de la campaña principal y que da paso a la secuela recientemente lanzada este mismo año.

Como ultima entrada de este blog encontramos a Dead Cells, un juego desarrollado por el estudio Motion Twin. Este juego transcurre en un mundo interconectado el cual contiene mas de 50 armas y hechizos haciendo que la exploración sea una parte muy vital. Posee una historia no lineal lo que quiere decir que puedes explorar a tu gusto, con unos jefes con la dificultad de dark souls por lo cual es recomendable que nos memoricemos su patrón de ataque evitando múltiples muertes y por consecuente estancamientos.

Para concluir debo aclara que este tipo de juegos no es para todo el mundo ya que sus múltiples horas de exploración y revista de lugares previamente vistos puede llegar a ser tedioso y agregándole la alta dificultad de los jefes y mazmorras se puede volver frustrante, pero si tenemos el tiempo y la paciencia suficientes podemos llegara degustar obras increíbles con hermosos paisajes y personajes memorables y a su vez descubrir finales completamente inesperados con una calidad en los detalles increíbles, sintiéndonos satisfechos con nosotros mismos y alentándonos a recusar las historias de nuevo.

Referencias

Morales, R. (2021, April 9). Los mejores juegos metroidvania para PC. Alfa Beta Juega; Alfa Beta Juega. https://www.mundodeportivo.com/alfabeta/listas/mejores-juegos-metroidvania-pc#index4

Alonso, Á. (2022, May 16). Metroidvanias muy buenos que probablemente no conozcas. Hobby Consolas; Hobby Consolas. https://www.hobbyconsolas.com/reportajes/metroidvanias-muy-buenos-probablemente-no-conozcas-1060525

Xcast. (2021, March 8). Los mejores metroidvania de la historia para PC y consolas. Millenium ES; Millenium ES. https://www.millenium.gg/guias/31874.html

[arytha]

so i went from two stories to now its Four stories and maybe counting and they're all connected

era's story with him breaking down over being forced to become a god by Epoch (working name for the organization behind him)

xena with her story about the Rounds and how she met her husband through the Dead End and fighting her brother Yuri (spawning Ultima in the process)

now we have Mimi and her infinite flow esque Death Games she has in her digital ghost space in her girlfriend's server where she's recreating the events that lead to her death to figure out eventually why Epoch was involved (the main character is mimi's beta tester Minuet (working name for him) but mimi is the driving force of the story)

and finally Ultima with the culmination of Epoch's project, who is a literal god/dess of creation, the form of a white hole, because Epoch has achieved space travel and is making it everyone's problem. black hole x white hole

this went from Epoch only being connected to Era to now Epoch is the ultimate antagonist of 3 out of 4 of my (and logan's) stories 🤔

[ultimacodex]

Goldenflame Dragon may still be looking for beta testers for "Chronicles of Ellusus 1: The Dark Unknown", his long-in-development homage to the early "Ultima" games.

[thatoneadhdseabunny]

Lil' Announcement!

Hey All!

I'm finally done with my exams! Lucky you, you get more content, so look forward to that probably on Saturday, and some more deleted scenes from the story I have a coming to you on Mon. June 17th!

Hope y'all have fun with this, and that you love the story I've had sitting in my head for awhile!

[learnmaart]

Función de traducción de mensajes de WhatsApp manchada en la última versión beta https://learnmaart.com/funcion-de-traduccion-de-mensajes-de-whatsapp-manchada-en-la-ultima-version-beta/

[yodawgiheardyoulikemecha]

AW-2 Vultor (front view) by Alessandro Cazzaniga Via Flickr: Equip: 1× pulse rifle 1× solid shield 1× comm system 1× boost pack 1× SSR 🇬🇧The Blue Lab, constantly engaged in the search for new solutions and technologies, presents its latest work: the AW-2 Vultor mobile frame. It is a medium-sized multifunctional mech, similar to its predecessor AW-1, from which it differs in some characteristics: first of all, it is equipped with the "shoulder grip" system, which allows it to be transported even by small aircraft. It also has a greater number of mounting points; this makes it easier to adapt the various systems you want to equip it with. The latest generation plasma engines make it efficient and able to operate for long periods. The new armor in Mitrion protects him from projectiles but also from some types of energy weapons. Basically, the Vultor was born as a multifunctional frame; suitable for any type of work, both in the atmosphere and in orbit; if necessary it is adaptable to combat, using the appropriate systems. 🇬🇧Note: This build develops directly from the model: Mender. To make it more proportionate, I decided to reduce the width of the torso from three units to two, keeping the joints unchanged, namely: pneuma T for the hips and ball joint for the shoulders. During the creative process, I tried several solutions for the head, arriving at this one: Fairly generic, but seen before on this build: Miguel Vasallo's Vultor beta. 🇮🇹Il Blue Lab, impegnato costantemente nella ricerca di nuove soluzioni e tecnologie, presenta il suo ultimo lavoro: il mobile frame AW-2 Vultor. Si tratta di un mech polifunzionale di stazza media, simile al predecessore AW-1, dal quale si differenzia per alcune caratteristiche: innanzitutto è dotato del sistema "shoulder grip", che gli consente di essere trasportato anche da aeronavi di piccole dimensioni. Inoltre possiede un numero maggiore di punti di montaggio; ciò rende piu semplice adattare i vari sistemi di cui si desidera dotarlo. I motori al plasma di ultima generazione lo rendono efficente e in grado di operare per lunghi periodi. Le nuove corazze in Mitrion lo proteggono dai proiettili ma anche da alcuni tipi di armi energetiche. Di base, il Vultor nasce come frame polifunzionale; adatto ad ogni tipo di lavoro, sia in atmosfera che in orbita; all'occorrenza è adattabile al combattimento, utilizzando i sistemi appropriati. 🇮🇹Note: questa build si sviluppa direttamente dal modello: Mender. Per renderlo piu proporzionato, ho deciso di ridurre la larghezza del torso da tre unità a due, mantenendo inalterate le articolazioni, ovvero: pneuma T per le anche e ball joint per le spalle. Durante il processo creativo, ho provato diverse soluzioni per la testa, arrivando a questa: abbastanza generica, ma vista in precedenza su questa build: Vultor beta di Miguel Vasallo. Mender: flic.kr/p/2qCX2UL Vultor Beta by Miguel Vasallo: flic.kr/p/mzMxDB

[pure-hill]

The salicylic acid serums is a lightweight skincare product that dissolves oil, dead cells, and other impurities from skin pores. It is a potent beta hydroxy acid (BHA) that targets debris inside the pores, making it a miracle serum for those prone to acne and other blemishes. Salicylic acid is designed with patients suffering from oily skin in mind.

[my-doru]

iOS 18.1: Toate noutățile importante din ultima actualizare Apple

Sursa foto: Apple Apple se apropie de finalizarea procesului de testare pentru iOS 18.1, iar ultima versiune beta aduce o serie de modificări și îmbunătățiri. Iată toate noutățile importante pe care utilizatorii le vor putea accesa după lansarea oficială care va avea loc pe 28 octombrie. Modificări în Control Center Utilizatorii vor avea acum la dispoziție butoane separate pentru funcțiile…