#a different sort of weapon

[wingedblooms]

More precious than soldiers, than any weapon.

@silverlinedeyes’s post reminded me of one of my favorite revelations in tod. I discussed it in the witch series a while ago, but I’m talking about it again because the language is strikingly similar and could be relevant for Elain’s role in acotar. When Yrene and Chaol visit the Oasis, we learn this:

Yrene turned in place, surveying the pillars, the carvings. No caves—none at all. “Nousha knew the location, though,” she mused. “It must have been important—the site. To the Torre.”

“But its importance was forgotten over time, or warped. So that only the name, the sense of its importance remained.”

“Healers were always drawn to this realm, you know,” Yrene said distantly, running a hand over a column. “The land just … blessed them with the magic. More than any other kind. As if this were some breeding ground for healing.”

“Why?”

She traced a carving on a column longer than most ships. “Why does anything thrive? Plants grow best in certain conditions—those most advantageous to them.”

This land was important, but the reason why it important was warped or forgotten over time. Healers were drawn to it and the land blessed them with healing magic more than any kind. We know there is a deep connection between the magic in the land and the magic of those who inhabit and care for it across the Maasverse (and that was likely emphasized in hofas because it has implications for acotar). This description of the southern continent reminds me of the healing land in the Night Court, with its slumbering heart and its full history and purpose forgotten. The peaks like green hands cupping healing waters.

As their exploration continues in tod, Chaol begins to suspect that the Fae settled on the southern continent to hide something, a treasure of a different sort.

Chaol said, “I thought only one group of Fae ever left Doranelle—to establish Terrasen with Brannon.”

“Maybe another settled here during whatever this war was.” The first war. The first demon war, before Elena and Gavin were born, before Terrasen.

Chaol studied Yrene. Her bloodless face. “Or maybe they wanted to hide something.”

Yrene frowned at the ground as if she could see to the tombs beneath. “A treasure?”

“Of a different sort.”

She met his eyes at his tone—his stillness. And fear, cool and sharp, slid into his heart. Yrene said softly, “I don’t understand.”

“Fae magic is passed down through their bloodlines. It doesn’t appear at random. Perhaps these people came here. And then were forgotten by the world, forces good and evil. Perhaps they knew this place was far away enough to remain untouched. That wars would be waged elsewhere. By them.” He jerked his chin to a carving of a Valg soldier. “While the southern continent remained mostly mortal-held. While the seeds planted here by the Fae were bred into the human bloodlines and grew into a people gifted and prone to healing magic.”

“An interesting theory,” she said hoarsely, “but you don’t know if it could stand to reason.”

“If you wanted to hide something precious, wouldn’t you conceal it in plain sight? In a place where you were willing to bet a powerful force would spring up to defend it? Like an empire. Several of them. Whose walls had not been breached by outside conquerors for the entirety of its history. Who would see the value of its healers and think their gift was for one thing, but never know that it might be a treasure waiting to be used at another time. A weapon.”

“We do not kill.”

A treasure of a different sort. Or what one might call a different kind of strength.

Later, when Yrene and Chaol confront the Valg princess beneath the Torre, their suspicions are confirmed:

“Why are you here,” Yrene breathed. “What do you want?”

“You.”

Chaol’s heart stumbled at the word. Duva straightened. “The Dark King heard whispers. Whispers that a healer blessed with Silba’s gifts had entered the Torre. And it made him so very, very wary.”

“Because I can wipe you all out like the parasites you are?”

Chaol shot Yrene a warning glance.

But Duva plucked the dagger off her womb and studied the blade. “Why do you think Maeve has hoarded her healers, never allowing them to leave her patrolled borders? She knew we would return. She wanted to be ready—to protect herself. Her prized favorites, those Doranelle healers. Her secret army.” Duva hummed, motioning with the dagger to the necropolis. “How clever those Fae were, who escaped her clutches after the last war. They ran all the way here—the healers who knew their queen would keep them penned up like animals. And then they bred the magic into the land, into its people. Encouraged the right powers to rise up, to ensure this land would always be strong, defended. And then they vanished, taking their treasures and histories beneath the earth. Ensuring they were forgotten below, while their little garden was planted above.”

“Why,” was all Chaol said.

“To give those Maeve did not consider important a fighting chance should Erawan return.” Duva clicked her tongue. “So noble, those renegade Fae. And thus the Torre grew—and His Dark Majesty indeed rose again, and then fell, and then slept. And even he forgot what someone with the right gifts might do. But then he awoke once more. And he remembered the healers. So he made sure to purge the gifted ones from the northern lands.” A smile at Yrene, hateful and cold. “But it seems a little healer slipped the butcher’s block. And made it all the way to this city, with an empire to guard her.”

Yrene’s breathing was ragged. He saw the guilt and dread settle in. That in coming here, she had brought this upon them. Tumelun, Duva, the Torre, the khaganate.

But what Yrene did not realize, Chaol instead saw it for her. Saw it with the weight of a continent, a world, upon him. Saw what had terrified Erawan enough to dispatch one of his agents.

Because Yrene, ripe with power and facing down that preening Valg demon…

Hope.

It was hope that stood beside him, hidden and protected these years in this city, and in the years before it, spirited across the earth by the gods themselves, concealed from the forces poised to destroy her.

A kernel of hope.

The most dangerous of all weapons against Erawan, against the Valg’s ancient darkness.

What he had been brought here to retrieve for his homeland, his people. What he had been brought here to protect. More precious than soldiers, than any weapon. Their only shot at salvation.

Hope.

The ancient Fae planted a weapon of a different sort—healing magic—in plain sight so that it could be used to protect the most vulnerable from the Valg. They made sure the right powers would rise up and thrive under the right conditions, like plants in a little garden. It could be a coincidence, but we’ve only heard that phrase used elsewhere in reference to Elain:

The little garden beneath the window was hers: every bloom and shrub had been picked and planted by her hand; she would allow no one else to care for it. Even the weeding and watering she did on her own. (acotar)

"Why?" Elain demanded. "Shall I tend to my little garden forever?" When Nesta flinched, Elain said, "You can't have it both ways. You cannot resent my decision to lead a small, quiet life while also refusing to let me do anything greater." (acosf)

It’s a dismissive phrase meant to belittle the efforts of both the ancient healers and Elain. But in tod, Chaol sees the importance of those efforts and what they ultimately represent for the future: Hope. Hope is more precious than soldiers, than any weapon. And in tod, Hope took the form of healing magic (and is generally connected to healing across the Maasverse). Yrene didn’t need extensive warrior training or to wield a sword; her raw healing power—a weapon of a different kind—was the sword.

Which ultimately brings me back to the questions Sarah planted in acosf. Why, exactly, were all of the Archeron sisters reforged with mighty powers? Why have they been brought to the most powerful court, surrounded by the most powerful warriors? What are they still meant to accomplish together?

We cannot answer those questions without understanding the mysterious gifts of the third sister. Elain has a different sort of strength than her sisters and for some reason, she was given such powers by Wyrd. Maybe her powers are a different kind of weapon that are needed now to address an ancient and familiar enemy. One that buried its secrets beneath the earth and warped the magic of the land to their benefit.

[sycamorality]

liking scavengers is the liking bugs/spiders of the rain world fandom

[quirinah]

i! ro! ha! (six years edition)

[rafent]

✦ 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐄 ✧

* grandmaster mastery drabble ( fell xenologue ch. 5 spoilers )

Nil was a caring brother. He picked up a weapon because he wanted to share in Nel's struggles, because two halves of a whole but one clinging to the other with hopes and prayers didn't make them equal. A glorified dragonstone warmer couldn't protect anyone, not himself and especially not her.

"It's fine, really. Like this even a failure like me can be useful."

Nil was a naughty brother. He admitted one thing to his big sister, but left out another. Left out several. He picked the axe because he'd hate being worse than Nel at anything. Festering in his heart was enough darkness, enough spots of black rotting canker, that he wouldn't dare invite one more to eat him up inside. Not an unheard of story, neither across history nor across fell kind; better that the younger forge his own way, step out of her shadow and into unclaimed skies of his own.

And of course, last but not least, 'Nil' was a right old strategist.

A vicious Child at the end of the day, who put one thought before every foot. Every Fell Dragon lost their twin eventually, and Nil would too if Nel ever found out. She'd rip him apart for daring to impersonate what was hers, she'd abandon the one who needed her more than she ever needed him. Every Fell Dragon lost their twin eventually, and one day Nil would too.

If that's what his dreams took.

"Remember, Nil. Swords break axes, and axes break lances."

...

Two halves of a whole, the Divine One had once stated with wonder, at times of the newcomers Nel and Nil with their immovable attachments at the hip, and at others of the partnered Emblems that called the bracelet of the Shepherd Exalt home. If they would only lay eyes upon all of them now, they'd be turning in their grave.

Break! Twin on twin, brutality forced upon brutality unwilling. The Fell Heir wielded his axe with vicious purpose against the thin haft of Represailles, and snapped it away from Nel's hands. He let her pick it up, then struck again.

Already he was a new person, or one might argue, the truest he’d always been; cruel and calculating, his four puny breezes cast off like jetsam on a ship that had no more room for them. Cruel; the pleas of the anguished sister ignored, as another Divine One looked on. Calculating; breaking Nel would break resistance, this could all stop once that fool agreed to cooperate.

Strike and strike again. With each brutalizing blow, a flash of gold and royal blue on his arm, well-suited on outside and strange on inside. It had seemed different on the Divine One—their Divine One—on whom there had always been some calming affectation of reassurance, and cleansed noble strength.

On Rafal, nothing of those qualities remained. Foregoing blue, Chrom hovered ominously behind him as a blood-red moon, to his new partner both a valuable weapon and the vignette of a memory; blue at blue's back, a sinuous pair of swords striking as one. He could have his pick of any bracelet in this fight, so why this one, why theirs, had his choice of Chrom been born of sentiment?

An unbecoming theory.

The hero from which this spirit was derived had slain a powerful Fell Dragon in his life, his Emblem incarnation had helped to slay even Father while perched on the Divine One's wrist, and Rafal too once possessed dragons to slay from sister to brother, now to sister again. It was a matter of mutual talents, a pairing predicated on the fang best suited to a maw.

...Nothing more, nothing less.

"Let me introduce you. This is Chrom. Together with Robin, they make up the Emblem of Bonds. Two halves of a whole—a bit like you and Nel, wouldn't you say?"

...

Across their centuries together as false brother and giving sister, Nel had never played with Nil roughly, never so much as hurt him, much less tried to kill him. She'd made the choice to hold him precious; the vestigial limb she were meant to cut away as all her kind did instead retained, her twin dragging uselessly behind her, though his weight bogged her down.

Kind, giving Nel was full of surprises, too.

“So. . .you finally struck at me in earnest.”

Something flitted across his face, genuine, on the end of a fierce strike that caused Chrom to gutter out like a flame and Rafal to hit the ground. The bars of the prison vanished in flickering prisms, letting out the Divine One, letting spill all tightly lidded hopes. Resistance hadn't broken, his prisoner freed, but even in the event of unexpected development, of seeming failure, he was still alive.

This too was his expectation, wasn't it?

In the end, he knew Nel wouldn’t be able to do it. If she truly aimed to kill her brother, that would be no more than closing those same fangs about herself. The heart was a tool and a burden, the owners of it promisingly soft. They worked their hands raw for higher purpose, abraded themselves on concessions for people higher than themselves, said yes where they ought say no, let live when they ought kill. For Nel it had been Nil, and for the Divine One it could still be Nel likewise.

Their footsteps departed. Rafal's eyes snapped open with a giggle, both mad and sane. No use wading in brine when there was still honey to be found. So long as he wasn't dead, there was always another plan.

Wiping clean the slate, the desert temple rumbled on its failing stilts. Collapsed to rubble in the wake of departed twins with matters left to finish.

"Zelestia. Please support these two going forward, no matter what happens.”

[divinekangaroo]

One thing I adore about PB is Tommy's approach towards modernity. Straddling the non-industrial past and the industrial/modern present; constantly positioning himself on the cutting edge, if not quite bleeding edge, of period/era technology. Cars, manufacturing, shipping, phones, typewriters. Medicine, psychology, and even bringing in incredibly modern concepts into politics in that era. He is constantly grabbing at the future. It's this striking characteristic in him, all the way from S1 when they install the phone in the Garrison - ~if only we knew someone else with a phone, we could call them~ - through to S6's final episode when he even wangles a seat on an airplane to get to Canada without wasting time. So uncommon at the time, but he just went: I need to get there with least time lost, and matched requirement to a borderline experimental non-consumer-available insider technology to do so.

(Sidestep: Such an interesting juxtaposition of all that, with the constant representation of the pre-industrial-era Romani threads in S6, too: Esme, the hills, the horse, the curse, the mythology, the vardo, all that slamming up against an actual cutting edge submachinegun, so ‘contemporary’ it’s actually anachronistic by a few years (if my research was right, it’s a WWII weapon that submachinegun, not to get on the symbolism, but). Arguably, Ruby in hospital having the most contemporary medical treatment available while Tommy goes walkabout to lift a curse is another notable juxtaposition.

There’s also an interesting slant of his modernity balanced against what I call his hoarding habit — the most cutting edge piece of tech or modernity in 1923 he’s still hanging onto in 1933. But yeah, even with that the juxtapositions are interesting because they can only happen if the forward reaching/modernity focus is there)

So, when I see contemporary-modern!AU takes of Tommy that are like, representing him as a relatively humdrum part of the capitalist consumer status quo, or even as a luddite who can't and won't use an Iphone, I scratch my head. I do think he’s *not* much of an innovator, but he is absolutely a considered first-gen adopter and recognises (and takes) opportunity regarding tech innovation with little concern for risk.

I have contemplated would rich modern!AU Tommy with disposable income finance startups if they pitched well: probably yes, because he takes gambles; with a personally vested interest in the innovators in the same way he had that vested interest in Bonnie. Startups as horses or boxers on a diff playing field, win some, lose some, etc.

[necrotic-nephilim]

ok but consider this:

jayrose is already established but they want to try and have a threesome with kara, so both of them keep flirting with her and teasing her until she just snaps and then fucks both of them into the ground. they don't know that kara was a red lantern and is into some kinky shit, and they assumed they'd end up breaking her, but then she rims rose while riding jason and they both just lose it. I'm talking overstimulation until they're sobbing, fingering jason while he fucks rose, getting jason to fuck rose at super speed, riding jason at super speed until he disloctaes his hip, fingering rose until she dislocates her hip. ot3

ooooh i *love* this-

i have to admit i know next to nothing about Rose Wilson or Kara Zor-El. i've only really read comics with Rose that didn't handle her well, and as for Kara, i've always been more of a Power Girl than a Supergirl fan so, i don't think i've read anything significant with Kara. that said, the thing that i always enjoy about her whenever i witness her from a distance is her anger and how it always seems to sit under the surface, begging to be unleashed. and i love taking Kryptonians in sex to the extreme with just. absolutely fucked up shit. especially if it's not what the other character(s) expect.

love love the idea of Kara trying to keep her composure against Jason and Rose trying to flirt and rile her up. Jason and Rose can be two very crass, aggressive people. together, they're almost unbearable or Kara to handle, all the flirting and innuendos when they have no idea what they're getting themselves into with her. i like the idea of Kara holding herself back from sex -especially with humans- because she knows she's one for violent hatefucking and she knows humans are way too fragile to all that. it's not that she's not interested in Jason and Rose- if anything she's a little *too* interested. she just knows they don't know exactly what she's capable of. that said, there is something nice for her to be the center of attention. she's never the first Kryptonian people think of, and as far as the "every Bat has a Kryptonian" jokes go, she's never had her own Bat, especially one that comes with a pretty girlfriend who's just a little unhinged. it's even more fun if there's some angst to go along with it, bc Kara knows these are two people who would *understand* her anger, but she doesn't want to hurt them with it.

so when they *finally* make her snap, it's fun. i think it's extra fun if there's some kind of Red Kryptonite sort of situation involved bc i adore Red Lantern Kara a lot and i like putting her at the mercy of her own anger in other situations like that. so the wrong comment from Jason or Rose about how she looks all bloody and angry after a fight and she just snaps. she grabs them both and literally *flies off* until she finds an open field in the middle of nowhere that's secluded enough and wipes the smug looks off both Jason and Rose's faces.

you mentioned Kara making Jason fuck Rose at superspeed and i am *so* into exploring superspeed as like. a *painful* kind of sex. because human bodies just aren't decided to handle that level of friction. i like the thought of Jason liking the idea of it at first, thinking it's something like human vibrator stuff. but by the end he's squirming and whining from his body being forced past it's limits and Rose is just a mess underneath him.

everytime they think Kara is done, she goes at one of them again. spreading Rose's legs too wide to eat her out and holding down Rose as she struggles, even if it dislocates joints. Rose's body can heal pretty instantly, which if anything, only adds to how Kara finds new ways to bend and break it. Jason thinks he'll get a reprieve when he physically *can't* come anymore and Kara rode him so hard that his own hip is in the wrong place, but instead of stopping, she just flips him over and starts fingering him. Kara doesn't care if either of them bleed. she doesn't care if bones end up in the wrong places. this is what they wanted so badly, and now, they can take it. i think it's fun if she shoves the hilt of one of Jason's knives inside of him and tells him he better be careful and make sure it doesn't slip out-

i think it's fun exploring pain tolerance and stamina in a sexual way when you're dealing with vigilantes. how far could Kara take it before Jason and/or Rose are begging her to stop. how many bruises are going to cover their body. at what point does Kara even *decide* to stop, bc sure, she's doing this for the sexual release but she's also just doing it to get out all the pent-up anger and frustration she's been harboring for the months they've been teasing her. she's not even *really* letting loose, that's the fun part. letting loose would break them too far. she's basically just *toying with Jason and Rose. at some point Jason even gets jealous of Rose's healing factor bc it means Kara can go further with her, and is less careless about holding Rose's chest so tight that ribs crack. even overstimulated and in so much pain he can barely think, Jason is *delighted* by this side of Kara he didn't know about and wants to see how far she goes. he'd risk the Lazarus Pit again just to give her the chance to stop holding back, honestly. and Rose is thriving too. no one has ever taken advantage of her healing factor like this, not even Jason during their most kinky sessions. it's that feral sort of inhuman state they're both reduced to until Kara is satisfied. she probably *almost* leaves them in the middle of nowhere, but decides to be kind and plop them on a random rooftop in Gotham, even though most of their clothes are gone and neither of them can walk. it's a subtle reminder of how far she *could* go if she wanted to. it's her way of telling them to not mess with her bc next time, she'll drop them off in the Arctic if she has to.

of course, they mess with her again.

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

sorry to get all depressing on you but like. god i think so much about how so many young YouTubers and streamers we know have been victimised in some manner- some who have spoken about it publically, others that have the evidence used to demonise them- yet there’s never a drop of empathy towards them. people constantly blame them for not acting mature about being predated on as a child. there’s nothing progressive about using traumatised children's pain as a way to paint them as evil and that’s something I see all too much. it’s not funny you just hate victims. like i'm talking about actual confirmed fucking crimes here it’s wild the amount i've seen those be used to cruelly mock and demonise people like.

[cryptvokeeper]

I think haunted museums are an underutilized concept

you take so many personal objects from peoples final resting places, at least SOME of that shit is gonna be haunted or cursed.

Night at the museum is the closest we as a society have come to a museum horror story and that’s a damn shame

[paste1cqke]

Haven't posted anything cookie run related in a while lol.

[nonokoko13]

Rollo Flamme is autistic. I had suspicions about it but after reading his vignette I heard a voice in my head confirming it. God has told me the truth and I must spread the word

He would also be ok with Batman, if he's not his most favoured hero. Oh and he also probably has PTSD and depression. Thanks for coming to my ted talk

[gu6chan]

maybe its sample bias but i think it's kinda funny how most people I've seen who've played drakengard because of nier are making ending e THE endgoal and more often than not the main if not only reason they're playing the game at all and when they finally get it they're like "this is it the single most impactful, greatest moment of all gaming. im wiping tears from my eyes this is it" and then you see the drakengard fans who've played drakengard because they like drakengard and you ask them about ending e and they're like "eh. it was okay, i guess"

[moe-broey]

LIKE........ @ the prev post about armor flexibility.... Is That Why They Look Like That??????? 👁️👁️

Something else fascinating I found actually when I was comparing the Askr trio (knowing Alfonse and Sharena largely match, just a few differences here and there), wanting to get a better look at Anna...

SHE HAS BIG ASS BOOTS?!????? I. COMPLETELY FORGOR ....... it gives her a real sturdy look though. Hm.... (Thinking about what this means for characterization/how I'd draw her, esp w my initial impressions kind of. Being the opposite of this LMFAOOO oops 😥)

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Karlach is very very nice tree and I am a squirrel heh

If you need help with the game just ask because before BG3 I had no idea about the playstyle either-

god yeah me too, i want to climb onto Karlach's back and hang from her shoulders she is my favorite and i love her

thank you!!! i'm very slowly getting the hang of it (not that i'm good by any stretch), but i'm having fun!!

[fumrell]

Would you guys wanna make a Lobcorp OC with me? 👉👈

[warlordfelwinter]

gale: not a trick, my friend, magic!

tav, fully a bard who gale definitely watched cast a bunch of spells in combat just now:

[tvckerwash]

hmmm I'm thinking about wash's stance on the training accident and I think it would be so funny if he gave maine a lecture about it afterwards