#and why he's so guarded..... and the sacred trust that it is the first time Clark hangs his coat in her closet

[cowboysorceror]

I am goddamn begging for the selkie AU lore holy shit. There’s SO much potential there. KONS JACKET SPECIFICALLY BEING TORN AS SHIT??? 👀👀👀

OKAY SO it's still percolating it's still cooking & @mamawasatesttube is responsible for a lot of it BUT as for Kon specifically... man... obviously Cadmus (and later Lex) have his coat in the early days. but he doesn't actually even really KNOW how messed up that is bc he's a kid and no one told him!!! he doesn't understand that that's his basic personhood and it belongs to him. he knows almost nothing about his selkie heritage or what it means, and so he doesn't know why he feels miserable and discontent and can't stay away for very long and is just kind of sickly ☹️ and ofc when Clark eventually realizes what's going on he is capital H Horrified and immediately tries to help him get it back. but it's a process and it's a very bitter and traumatic thing for Kon to realize how deeply he was being manipulated (very analogous to canon in that regard).

and for Kon's jacket being a bit patchwork - selkie coats are essentially an outwards extension of the soul! they're very unique and personally individualized, and can be both altered and damaged by painful relationships with that part of their identity (or just physical trauma). some of the threadwork on Kon's jacket is work done to repair damage from the neglect/abuse of his coat by Cadmus, and some of it is Kon trying to make it his own! Selkie coats are magical which makes them somewhat fluid :)

[skyloftian-nutcase]

A King's Admission (Imprisoning War)

The Festival of Colors was coming to an end.

A strange, ominous and somber energy filled Ganondorf’s mind. Perhaps it was because he was always sad when the beauty of the festival gave way to the dullness of what followed. He enjoyed pageantry, after all, and more than that, he loved the eventfulness of it – he was not one for monotonous things.

But perhaps this year, it was simply because he knew what was coming next.

The strike on Hyrule shouldn’t make him somber, though. He should be excited. He was excited, eager to finally obtain a sacred relic he’d dedicated his life to claiming.

But it meant this was coming to an end.

The Gerudo king watched Orik as the boy slept. After a little over a week in the desert with Hemisi, after being sick for several days, he looked a little different from the quiet, sweet, shy guard at the castle. The red face paint he wore was gone for now, mildly tanned face unblemished and browning with the exposure to the sun, placid in slumber. His light blonde hair, usually kept in a neat top knot, was spilling all over his face and the pillow. Ganondorf could faintly make out some stubble trying desperately to grow on innocent skin, a patchy effort fueled by raging hormones that only emphasized how young he was.

Honestly, Ganondorf was a little surprised he hadn’t seen it before. Orik had been dating Hemisi for well over a year now, and the entire time he’d thought the boy was at least sixteen, which was the Gerudo age of adulthood. After all, he’d been an independent soldier. Having just celebrated his twins’ fifteenth birthday yesterday, Ganondorf truly saw how old and young such an age was. It was unnerving.

And this one was fourteen.

There was a strange confliction of feelings in his heart. He himself had held a blade since adolescence, looked up to by his people, expected to rule and know what to do simply because he was a man. He’d stepped up and led them, of course – it was both his right and responsibility, and he’d wanted better for himself anyway. He’d planned on making the situation better for himself – why shouldn’t he claim what the world had to offer, when he was born with such privilege anyway? Why shouldn’t he deserve to have all the power when it was expected of him? Age had meant little to him back then, as a result. If one could fight, one could fight. Little children were obviously harmless, he’d assumed, until that one brat clad in green had proven otherwise.

But as a father, Ganondorf had found that his definition of children had evolved. He’d stepped up into the role an adult when he’d hit puberty, truly coming into his own when he was roughly sixteen. Now that he had two fifteen-year-olds, that prospect seemed insane. Perhaps it simply was a matter of circumstance – this desert was far different than the one he originated from (he refused to call that barren wasteland his own—this was his desert, his home). Perhaps it was that Ganondorf and Nabooru had ensured there was no reason for their children to have to step up as he had. He saw little reason in coddling them, teaching Merovar the art of manipulation for the last year, sending Hemisi on scouting missions since their first visit to Hyrule Castle so she could find weak points in their security… but even now, thinking of them getting involved in major fighting that might break out in the attempt to steal the Triforce made his stomach churn.

And this boy was no different in his musings.

Ganondorf had to admire him, honestly. He’d said he’d taken care of himself since he was twelve. It was an impressive feat… and explained why the boy was terrible at taking care of himself. It showed a fierce determination that he could appreciate, and it showed a frightening lack of development that he knew was supposed to be happening based on his twins.

It was no wonder he’d spent the first few months wondering if the kid even had feelings most days. He hadn’t trusted the docile, obedient façade until he’d realized that was simply how the boy actually was, and then discovered it was just what was expected of him when he had so much more fire to his heart and soul than that. This boy matched Hemisi’s chaotic energy in exploring and causing trouble, could fight her and even defeat her sometimes when no one else remotely close to their ages could, and had far more intelligence hidden behind those quiet eyes than he ever let on.

Blasted Sheikah. He could admire their dedication to their craft, their ability to fight, but goddesses they were asinine in their idiotic loyalty and dutybound culture. They were ruining this child. He wished he had more time before the strike, but they couldn’t just sit on the information they had – anything could change.

At the end of it all, Orik—Link—would have to choose. Ganondorf had a dark suspicion he knew what the boy would do, entrenched in his blind faith. But he still held out hope that once the dust settled, Hemisi would try to seek him out and perhaps he’d reciprocate once more. Only time would tell.

The thought of it made him want to distance himself from the child, honestly. But here he stood, watching as Orik stirred, scrunching his eyes and nose, sniffling and rubbing his face into the pillow a little in some kind of effort to wake up. Ganondorf didn’t bother moving, simply remaining in the shadows cast by the late morning light. He didn’t want to leave, didn’t want this chapter of his life to close quiet yet. The anticipation of everything coming together was starting to eat him alive, but just in this one, last quiet morning, he basked in the moment.

Orik stretched, rubbing his face sleepily, hand brushing against the stubble that had been trying to grow in his lack of grooming from the last few days. Ganondorf held back a chuckle at the boy’s disapproving grimace at the sensation, but his mirth faded into mild alarm when the teenager reached for a blade he’d placed on the nightstand. Sleepily, Orik ran his thumb across his cheek to trace the hair once more before getting ready to scrape a blade across his skin.

“What are you doing?” Ganondorf asked, both bewildered and concerned.

Link nearly jumped out of his skin, and the Gerudo hastily stepped forward to grab the boy’s wrist so he didn’t cut himself by accident. “L-Lord Ganondorf!”

Ganondorf yanked the knife out of the child’s hand, repeating his question. “What are you doing?”

Orik blinked, trying to center himself, eyes wide and innocent and startled. “I—I… sh-shaving?”

For Din’s sake. “Who taught you to shave like that?”

Orik shriveled a hair under his scrutiny, uncertainty etched in every fiber of his being. “…Me…?”

Ganondorf sighed heavily, dropping the boy’s wrist. He considered the teenager for a moment, exasperated, pointedly ignoring the thought in the back of his mind that whispered, I should just adopt this idiot already.

“Come on, child,” he ordered, walking for the door. Link obeyed silently, and Ganondorf guided him to the washroom, grabbing some supplies. He posted himself at a basin beside the one where he’d placed Link, and started to guide him through the process. As he instructed the boy to actually wash his face first, he asked, “You never explained why you lied to me.”

Orik froze, nearly inhaling the water in his hands as he hovered over it. “Sir?”

“Your name,” Ganondorf hummed, before smirking and slapping Link’s hands into his face, splashing the boy.

The teenager spluttered and coughed, and for a moment his red eyes twinkled with mischief and cheer as he was about to retaliate before he remembered who he was addressing. He sobered quickly, explaining, “I didn’t mean any deceit. I have two names.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about both, then?”

“I…” the boy shifted his weight uncertainly, looking anywhere but at Ganondorf. Distracting himself, he dipped his hands in the water basin once more, readying to wash his face again.

“Orik.” Ganondorf cut in sternly.

Orik bit his lip. “It was… suggested that I simply forego my Hylian name.”

“Who suggested it?”

His silence answered the question just fine. Ganondorf sighed. That girl… He backed down a little, asking calmly, “Is it custom for your people to have two names?”

“Not really,” Orik answered. “My parents wanted two different names for me.”

“But you go by Orik?”

“Yes, my lord. My mother wanted…” he paused, seeming to catch himself, and Ganondorf wondered why. He didn’t push initially, showing the boy some lotions to put on his face, lathering it up to help him shave.

As he watched Link carefuly and precisely move the blade, Ganondorf gently prompted, “What did your mother want?”

Orik halted his motions, eyes watching Ganondorf in the reflection of the mirror, and then he capitulated, saying, “She wanted me to be named Link. It’s… a special name. Sheikah respect it and find it… wrong to name a child that. It’s said to be imbued with the blessing of the goddesses, and many Hylians name their sons Link because of it. But the Sheikah consider it sacred. So my father named me Orik.”

Ganondorf watched him in silence, pondering the matter. He wondered if that was why that child from the forest was named Link as well. It gave him a strange feeling of relief, knowing that it was a common Hylian name, as if it further confirmed his reassurances that there was nothing wrong with this teenager. There would be no divine meddling – just bad breeding from the Sheikah.

“You introduced yourself as Link when you were sick and confused,” he noted. “I feel as if that would not be something automatic if you never use that name.”

The Sheikah boy sighed a little, glancing questioningly at Ganondorf as he had finished shaving. The Gerudo nodded towards the basin, indicating it was fine to rinse off. When he’d finished, Orik explained, “I like that name. I just can’t use it all that much. But I… prefer it over Orik. I have very little from my mother, even less connection to anything Hylian. I was raised in Kakariko, I was…”

When he trailed off, Ganondorf bit his tongue to give the boy time. Ganondorf was a man of action and saw little point in hesitation, but he knew some coaxing was needed for this boy sometimes. It was mildly frustrating, but he put up with it. His patience paid off when Link muttered, “I was raised entirely to be Sheikah. And I tried to be nothing but… and to be the best one so that…”

The silence became too stretched, and Ganondorf prompted, “So that what?”

Link jumped, started out of his musings and seeming to realize he’d said too much. “I—forgive me, I finished shaving, I don’t mean to waste your time.”

“You’re not remotely finished,” Ganondorf noted dully. “You still have to clean and moisturize your face.”

Link stared at him, baffled. “There’s more steps?”

The boy caught himself as soon as the words spilled out, and he bit his lips closed, making the Gerudo chuckle. Honestly. This boy needed to learn that it was okay to have an opinion. Nevertheless, the way the teenager watched his every move as if this were some life altering ritual was endearing. Ganondorf watched the boy massage some lotion in gently, even a little timidly over some tiny cuts, and the Gerudo rolled his eyes, stepping behind him and putting pressure over the boy’s hands, guiding them with his own to demonstrate how to properly do it.

“You’re not wasting my time,” he told him, letting his hands fall to the boy’s shoulders. “It’s… been a pleasure having you here, Link.”

The teenager was stiff under his palms, not seeming to know what to do with neither the gentle touch nor words. Instead of watching Ganondorf in the mirror, though, he glanced straight up to look at him, eyes sparkling with some sort of emotion, making him look so much smaller and younger than he was, and Ganondorf felt every fiber of his being scream to protect this child.

“You should stay,” he said abruptly, catching himself off guard. “Just a little while longer.”

Link’s eyes widened a little. “B-but—my lord, I only was granted leave to be here for the festival.”

“Hemisi and Merovar’s birthday celebrations extend such festivities,” Ganondorf lied. They did no such thing, honestly, but he’d already said the words and was kicking himself for it. Honestly, he just wanted the kid to stay here while they led their assault – it would spare Hemisi the pain of having to take him out of play (and consequently spare Ganondorf the headache and heartache of listening to her complain and be upset about it), and it would keep the boy out of the fighting altogether, perhaps even convince him to stay on Ganondorf’s side.

It wouldn’t matter either way – once he had the Triforce, the entire world would listen to him. Link would see reason soon enough. But if he could stay here, then it eliminated any possibility of a problem.

“Birthdays last multiple days?” Link asked, clearly completely confused.

“They… can.” This was just getting ridiculous. Redirecting, Ganondorf asked, “I never learned when yours was.”

“No one knows when mine is, my lord.”

Ganondorf blinked. Blinked again. “You… don’t know when your birthday is?”

“I do,” Link nodded, finally looking down again. “I mean no one else does.”

Wait a second. “When did you last celebrate your birthday?”

“When I came of age,” Link replied easily.

Oh. Well. That was ridiculous. Ganondorf didn’t care for all the traditions and silliness involved in birthdays, but recognizing one’s accomplishments over the past year was fairly important to him. Perhaps if the year had been an abysmal one there was no point in acknowledging it, but Link had plenty of reasons to look back on his last year alive on this world and be content with it.

Perhaps content wasn’t the right word. One shouldn’t simply be content with their life, they should always be seeking more. But Link had grown much in the last year. “When is your birthday, then?”

Link hesitated a moment before answering, “Tomorrow.”

Tomorrow?!

“You’re staying here,” he immediately ordered, grip tightening on the boy’s shoulders.

“M-my lord—”

“Don’t argue. You’re staying.”

Link was supposed to leave tomorrow. The assault team would leave a day after. If Link stayed for his birthday, he’d depart at the same time as the warriors and it would be obvious.

He’d have to delay the attack if he did this.

He was too close for such delays over trifling matters. And the boy wouldn’t listen anyway.

Link was frozen in place, stiff and debating the matter. Ganondorf knew the automatic response that would come, the polite apology and inability to take orders from the Gerudo over his Sheikah mandated duties.

The boy let out a nervous sigh. “I… suppose I can wait a day, if you wish it so.”

Wait… what?

“D-do you… do you really want me to stay?” Link asked quietly. The words were held in a steady voice that tried to imply this was simply seeking confirmation from a king and not that this was a child desperately asking if he was wanted.

Damn it.

He almost said no. Because he shouldn’t have asked in the first place. Months of planning could be wasted if he delayed the assault too long.

One… one day wasn’t too long.

I can’t lose sight of my goal.

This wasn’t losing sight, though, it was simply modifying. Besides, what if he led the group out of the desert tomorrow night while Link slept safely in the capital? They could get the Triforce before the boy ever reached Castle Town.

He knew that wasn’t feasible, though. There was no way Nabooru would be prepared. He was rendezvousing with her en route, after all. He couldn’t change the timing of anything without doing so in a drastic manner.

So he either had to accept that his team would leave the same day as the boy, potentially compromising the mission, or he could tell Link he needed to leave.

Ganondorf swallowed. Bit his tongue. Cursed again.

Then he pat the boy on the back, heading towards the hallway. “I gave you an order, child. I expect you to obey. You’re going to be part of this family someday, aren’t you?”

Link blushed, hugging himself, and Ganondorf didn’t bother listening to his stammering reply. His heart thrummed in his chest, agitated and relieved, furious and terrified and hopeful.

He couldn’t let that happen again, though. That sweet, foolish boy would not be what prevented him from achieving everything he wanted.

But… he would make sure the boy’s birthday was the best one he’d had yet.

[nuclearpoweredsniper]

to know a gentle body

nobody asked but ur getting it anyways, sniper/reader ficlet that'll probably get a +18 sequel, but for now, yanno (gestures broadly)

gender neutral reader, 2nd person POV, cw for weed and cigarettes, there'll definitely be more tags added when i post the second part

---------

The nights have been going like this for a while. You and the team have dinner, and Mick waits until everyone has left the room, and he asks you if you'd like to hang out with him in his van.

The first time caught you off guard, you'll admit; the Sniper was a quiet man. The longest sentence you'd ever gotten out of him prior was a whopping three words, but you were sure it wasn't shyness. He never seemed uncomfortable in a room with the others, but he stayed at the back and he stayed quiet - and if he could get away with it, he wouldn't be there at all. Always carrying his kukri, always wearing that hat and those shades, all the signs of an animal silently telling you to keep your distance, and so you did. You didn't think he'd approach you first.

He waited until you were alone, washing dishes; he kept a keen ear out for invisible flies on the wall of the French variety, and when he was sure only the breathing of 2 people were present, he cleared his throat.

"So, Jeremy told me you smoke." His voice reminded you of the stroke of an old cello, in an abstract way - low and almost meandering. It startled you but it was nice to hear, for once, not in monosyllables.

"...Yeah. I, um.." You scratched your neck, making a mental note to throw a boot at the Scout later. "I do. Why do you a-"

"Wanna come smoke with me? I have a fuckton of vinyls we can listen to."

You felt like you were making first contact with a different kind, but it was nothing like the movies.

"Uhm... y-yeah? Sure. Why not?"

And so a nightly ritual began.

It was in this way you became close friends, lounging in his little van, the air full of smoke and Pink Floyd, giggling and munching on homemade jerky. You waded in each others shallows, picking up pretty stones in the shape of favorite colors and childhood memories, the time he fought a saltwater croc for 20$, the time you mistook a wild skunk for a dog and almost got sprayed, until slowly the shallows weren't so shallow anymore. Before you realized it, you were sharing first kisses, first heartbreak, traumas, fears, desires.

It turns out you were right - Mick wasn't the least bit shy when it was just you and him. He explained in quite simple terms why he kept his distance from everyone.

"Wankers, the lot of 'em. Tavish 'n Jeremy are just 'bout the only ones I can stand, and even then.." You interjected with a snort - you knew exactly what he meant. He smirked and continued.

"Can't trust that fuckin' spook as far as you can throw him either. Damn stalker." He injected a bit of venom into that point. He was right too, the Spy loved blackmail.

The water was up to your chin when you realized you were looking at him differently - no, seeing him differently, knowing him differently. The tide was rolling in.

His earthen brown eyes lay deep in his skull, which was constructed of sacred, sharp geometry; lines and valleys and rises chipped out of sunkissed marble. Mahogany hair hung just at his shoulders, which were wide and strong; and just peaking out of the collar of his white undershirt, was greying chest hair. When he smiled, his lips pulled back and revealed teeth that almost should've been in the mouth of a wolf, not a man. It split his face in two, it was intimidating, and it was beautiful.

Tonight, you're sitting on the small couch in his van, passing a joint back and forth between you, The Mamas and The Papas crackling softly on his record player. He breaks the near silence with the crunch of the joint being put out in the ashtray, and pulls your legs into his lap. You don't mind, he does this sometimes, he seeks comfort in touch and soft skin - just wants to know a gentle body, and so do you. It's rare in your line of work.

Calloused fingers are tracing nervous lines into your calf, antsy little dots and dashes like frantic morse code and it's noticeably different from how he normally touches you. He's staring at a particular square inch of your flesh and his thick brows are furrowed; he's thinking hard about something. You know by now to just let him brew until he's ready, so you stay quiet, happy to admire his strong profile while he's distracted. You reach down to the floor to grab your cigarettes, pull one out and light it, and he watches you with a strange look in his oaken eyes, but not an unpleasant one. It's a look of complicated depth, of things unknown to you besides a tangible warmth. You stretch an arm abover your head, a few joints popping as you do, and stretch your legs out across his lap, not unlike a cat. As you stretch, you tap the glass.

"What's up?"

He looks away quickly, he didn't realize he was staring.

"I, um... I wanted to, um.."

He's never been nervous like this before.

"I wanted to ask you something." He's gone back to staring at your legs. You sit up on your elbows, a touch nervous yourself, now.

"...Yeah?" You try to take a gentle tone, but it just comes out as timid and small, seeking its own reassurance.

He pauses, he seems like he's rolling the words around in his mouth before saying them.

"You get lonely too, right?"

He's hushed now, his hands deathly still. It's rattling to see him actually nervous like this.

"...What do you mean? We're hanging out right now."

"That's what I mean. You come over, and you stay for a while and it's...." His mouth hangs open for a second like the words are scared to come. "I-I don't.... I don't want you to. Leave.... tonight."

There's a rush in your thorax. You're speechless for a second, almost thoughtless, and you sit up to face him. His lips are tinted red by his teeth worrying at them, those wicked teeth like something out of Dracula.

"Only if you want to, of course. It gets cold out he-"

"I'd really like that, Mick."

When he looks at you, it almost steals your breath. Damn his eyes, full of sepia-tinted expanses, dilated pupils pulling you in like supermassive black holes; you might as well have told him you'd marry him with the hearts and stars dancing in them. He blushes, actually blushes at you, and it'll be a long standing argument in the future about who kissed who first. All you know is that now, you're in his arms.

[thedansemacabres]

Ares as... rooster?

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

[ID: An image of a brown-gold rooster cawing. The rooster has a large, six-pointed comb and orange-red round eyes. The background is blurry, highlighting the rooster's neck and face.]

ARES IS A WONDERFUL GOD, and there is little academia about him in particular. There is much about the analysis of him in the Iliad and function in myth, but less about his cultus and more obscure traits. While researching, I stumbled upon a very different Ares….as a rooster. So, as a quick post, here is a small bit on Ares and roosters. 

ROOSTERS IN ANCIENT GREECE 

Roosters are funny creatures. They’re very feisty, but also sometimes cowardly—affectionate, but terribly bloodthirsty. I have worked with several roosters in my time, and they’ve either been useless or fiends. Hens are often much better at their jobs. A good rooster though is priceless, and I’ll never forget the white tufted rooster at my job we used to have that would cuddle but also attack dogs if they dared step near his flock. Perhaps due to this, Ares also gained an association with roosters—he’s certainly the good kind, if he is to be compared to a rooster. 

Chickens were originally thought to have arrived in the Archaic era, aided by chickens being termed the “Persian bird.” Sacred roosters may have even appeared in temples, perhaps suggesting to us as modern polytheists to raise birds in devotion to the gods. They were not a common bird, coming in slowly from West Asia—with divine association, appearing on temples and later into Egypt in which they were connected to the pharaoh. Their ability to produce meat and eggs also made them far more convenient than pigs or cattle, along with consuming less resources. When the bird then reached the Minoans, it possibly gained martial connotations and appeared on Minoan seals. 

Chickens in ancient Greece gained many associations—naturally with Helios, but also with childbirth, Selene and her lunar cycles, Apollon and Asklepios, as a chthonian being with Hermes and Persephone, and as a symbol of rebirth and transition. 

THE MYTH OF ARES AND THE ROOSTER

There is also the story of Ares’ soldier and lover Alcetyron, who failed to guard the door to Ares and Aphrodite’s affair, allowing Helios to witness the couple: 

“Mi. Why, to be sure, I have heard something like this before about a cock. It was the story of a young man called Alectryon; he was a lover of Ares,—used to join in his revels and junketings, and give him a hand in his love affairs. Whenever Ares went to pay a sly visit to Aphrodite, he used to take Alectryon with him, and as he was particularly afraid that Helios would see him, and tell Hephaestus, he would always leave Alectryon at the door, so that he might give him warning when the Helios was up. But one day Alectryon fell asleep, and unwittingly betrayed his trust; the consequence was that the Sun got a peep at the lovers, while Ares was having a comfortable nap, relying on Alectryon to tell him if any one came. Hephaestus heard of it, and caught them in that cage of his, which he had long had waiting for them. When Ares was released, he was so angry with Alectryon that he turned him into a cock, armour and all, as is shown by his crest; and that is what makes you cocks in such a hurry to crow at dawn, to let us know that the Sun is coming up presently; it is your way of apologizing to Ares, though crowing will not mend matters now.”

This story is then better explained by An Argument for a Bronze Age Introduction of the Cock in Ancient Greece by Jorrit M. Kelder: 

Perhaps the bird served a double purpose, both as a symbol of ‘transition’ (including the various stages in the cycle of life) and virility. This double connotation may be reflected in the story of Alectryon, a companion of Ares, whose failure to warn his master (who was having an illicit affair with Aphrodite) of the arrival of Helios resulted in his transformation into a cock. The story, first attested in Lucian (Gallus 3), may well be a late one, designed to explain the name and manifold associations of the cock. None of these associations can with certainty be identified in Bronze Age Aegean iconography, though the presence of an altar on the Zakros sealing indicates that the bird could (also) serve some purpose in the religious sphere.

This dialogue continues on and the rooster reveals himself to be Pythagoras after thoroughly roasting the man he was speaking to. 

ARES AS ROOSTER 

Continuing on, paper I was reading explored slightly on the topic of gods as birds or bird-hybrids, such as Athene the owl, Hermes the chicken, and Ares the rooster:

This likely represents Ares the fighting rooster—a symbol of virtuality, and extended to his son Eros with eroticism and ancient Greek homosexuality.  Cockfighting was a common sport in ancient Greece, likened with ‘masculine’ prowess in sports and even appearing on Panathenaic amphorae. 

Admittedly, I found this most comedic and wonderful. I’m not completely sure what to do with this information beyond associating Ares with roosters, but it is a fun tidbit on him indeed. Roosters and chickens overall have a vast lore behind them, whether that is with the sun or as a symbol of death. Today, chickens are such a common aspect of life—we can simply go out and buy some eggs and chicken meat. However, two thousand years ago, I could imagine someone being beyond excited to finally be able to have a chicken in their life. From this small research spree for Ares, I have gained a new appreciation for chickens. Perhaps that is the blessing that he has given us in being a divine cock. 

wordpress link

References 

Allinson, F. G., Fowler, H. W., & Fowler, F. G. (1906). The Works of Lucian of Samosata: Complete with Exceptions Specified in the Preface. American Journal of Philology, 27(4), 455. https://doi.org/10.2307/288891

Eckerman, C. (2012). Cockfighting and the Iconography of Panathenaic Amphorae. Illinois Classical Studies, 37, 39–50. https://doi.org/10.5406/illiclasstud.37.0039

Kelder, J. M. (2021). AN ARGUMENT FOR A BRONZE AGE INTRODUCTION OF THE CHICKEN IN GREECE. Mediterranean Archaeology, 34/35, 1–14. https://www.jstor.org/stable/48691680 Spier, J. (2010). Most fowl: athena, ares, and hermes depicted as birds on engraved gems. Pallas. https://doi.org/10.4000/pallas.11101

[pascaloverx]

Forbidden Romance (+18)

Summary: You are in love with Prince Thor. He will soon be King and is hosting a ball between Kingdoms so he can find his future bride. Unfortunately, the Kingdom of Asgard is not ready to accept the Chief of the Royal Guard as the new Queen.

Warnings: inappropriate language, use of violence and adult content in the future of fanfic. some characters belong to the Marvel universe and others were created by the author. This chapter has adult content (smut). Minors do not read or interact with this fanfic.

chapter five chapter seven

Chapter Six

A week after King Odin's illness became public, Asgard was in Thor's hands. What didn't seem like a big problem until power started corrupting the man you love. Thor decided that no marriage would be officialized until he got married. Which now seemed to be the last thing on his mind. Although he was seen with Lady Sif and on another occasion with Princess Jane, no marriage seems to be forthcoming. Odin looks too pale for a King as he murmurs in pain on his large bed. You approach gently, as if afraid of what will come next. And you are afraid of what comes next.

"Your Majesty, I fear for the well-being of our realm. I know your health is fragile, but your eldest son will cause the ruin of Asgard. I can assure you of that," you speak assertively as you approach Odin's bed. He looks at you with weakness. He is too weak.

"Child, do you fear my son's recklessness or that he loves you more than he loves Asgard?" King Odin speaks with great effort. You feel sorry for the King who once embodied the greatness of Asgard, but now symbolizes its potential decline.

"Since when, Your Majesty, have you known?" You ask, ashamed, feeling like a complete idiot for thinking the King didn't suspect your affair with Thor.

"My brave child, since Thor laid eyes on you, I knew. It is the duty of the King to know everything that happens in his realm. Know that by my will, you two would never have been involved, but Thor begged me, swearing to become a successor worthy of Asgard. That's why he will not marry you. Believe me, separately, I hold you both in great esteem. But together, you will be the end of all that is good in Asgard. Therefore, even on my deathbed, I will tell you what you must do, so that my son does not prevent you from marrying Prince Steve." King Odin speaks with a certain superiority. Even in his dying moments, the old man feels superior to you, even though he doesn't seem to hate you.

"You put me where I am today? I'm where I am today because your son couldn't control an erection? Give up this speech of superiority. You've aged poorly like a rotten bag. I'll probably be a Queen who, besides being loved by the people, will be loved by my husband. Whoever he may be. Now choose, do you want me to be the queen of Asgard or of Kyrax? Decide quickly, for by the course of our conversation, you will die before your son decides his bride. Trust me, Allfather, if I don't marry Steve, your son will be the first King of Asgard to have a non-noble wife. You can count on that." You say, approaching the King of Asgard, while he seems almost sickened by your threat. Amidst sideways glances and coughs, Odin finally managed to approach you.

"Have a ceremony under the sacred fire captured in the war against the Starks, you need someone from the nobility to officiate. Loki can help in this situation. That's all you need. I should add that you should consummate this marriage as soon as possible." King Odin looks defeated as he trembles in bed. Not all the royalty in the world can save the soul of a great sinner.

"Any other recommendations, Your Majesty?" You speak with contempt and pity at the same time. Odin looks at him as if he had to deliver bad news.

"I'm sorry to inform you, young lady, but you will have to do me one last favor before this is all over. I want my son engaged to Princess Jane. I beg for your help in this matter." Every word that came out of Odin's mouth seemed to be his last. His breathing is so weakened that you fear he will die before you leave the room.

"Consider done." You say leaving the room quickly, a little upset with what you're about to do. It will be the official end of your story with Asgard. Your story with Thor. You walk with heavy steps to the King Regent's room. Thor is lying in his bed. As soon as you enter his room, he stares at you.

"If you're going to come into my room like this, wouldn't it be better to lie down next to me?" Thor speaks with his eyes half open as you slowly approach his bed.

"I believe this is your future wife's task, no woman who has spent the last few years seeing your dick almost every day, Your Majesty." You respond, standing in front of Thor's bed.he is covered by sheets but visible naked.

"Jealousy looks good on you. I never thought you would feel threatened by anyone in this realm I've been involved with. It seems like it was wrong." Thor says as he slowly crawls onto the bed to standing with his legs open in front of you. All that stopped you from seeing him naked was the sheet. 

"Your father asked me for something. I want to know if there's any logical reasoning left in that brain of yours. He wants his marriage to Jane. He thinks you and her will be a good couple." You say, getting closer and closer to Thor. He doesn't seem to pay attention to what you're saying but at the same time he is paying attention to you. Horny was never a problem in our relationship. 

"What do you think?" Thor asks as his hands roam your body. He gently touches your belly, moving up to your breasts. You know how this will end. After all, that's what you came for. You take off the clothes you're wearing, mentally thanking yourself for not wearing armor. 

"I think you should marry her. You two are a good match, she will be a good queen. You two will probably have beautiful children." You say as you feel Thor's hand grip your ass tightly. An involuntary moan came out of your mouth.

"And you came to have sex with me to convince me that I should marry Jane?" Thor says as he holds your waist, laying you down on his bed. You kiss him, with desire. This is your farewell to him, the end of an era. Your lips felt like they belonged together. Your hands held tight to Thor's hair as your lips took possession of his lips.

"I came to say goodbye. So please, Your Majesty, shut up and enjoy." You say, dragging the sheet that still covered Thor's body and throwing it away. Thor holds your ass, slapping each buttock as he guides you to ride him. When his dick enters you, you feel an impulse to bounce, causing a strangely pleasant sensation. You and Thor look like animals, as he scratches your ass while holding onto it, you bite all over his neck. Sometimes biting Thor's lips and holding tight to his hair, you feel like it's going to overflow. 

"I don't want to say goodbye to you." Thor says as he enters you again, at a slow pace as if he doesn't want to end. However, you don't want to talk about feelings, so you start to sit on the Thor's cock faster, letting out grunts as you felt him inside you. Your hands hold Thor's body tight as you feel your orgasm coming. Thor seemed lost between moans and the desire to take over your entire body. His hands firmly holding your thighs as he pulls you closer as if he wants to tease you. His dick moving in and out of you faster and faster, your bodies getting sweatier and sweatier while your heart feels like it's going to come out of your mouth. Your breasts bump against Thor's chest causing a good sensation, until you feel his hands cupping your breasts. It all felt very carnal and real. The desire between you is very real.Moments later, you and Thor cum. You then allow yourself to give him one last kiss, tasting blood as you ended up causing a slight injury to his mouth while biting it.

"I don't like Jane. She seems like the perfect match for you and that bothers me. But it's very clear that you and I have a destiny to follow and that destiny is not with each other. I hope that one day you see that." You speak while you still feel Thor inside you. You hug him while still sitting on him and get up, picking up your clothes. It's time to put your plan into action. 

"You know all this doesn't change my opinion, your Prince Steve will return to the kingdom of Kyrax. And you will stay here. By my side." Thor says and you almost feel the need to laugh. He really thinks he owns you.

"Obviously, Your Majesty. I will withdraw because there is no place in this room for me and your ego. Make good use of your solitude." You go to the exit, where among Thor's things, you find what you came looking for. The key to the secret hall that holds the sacred fire. Now let's see who will side with whom.

To be continued...

[findafight]

That's vaapad. Is the first thing Dustin thinks, barely registering that the one dropped into a defensive stance, indigo 'sabre held tightly, is Steve.

Spacer Steve. Cocky, charming, snarky, kind, jaded, force-null Steve. Holding a lightsaber the colour of Illium's sky just past sunset, when it turns from dusk to night, stars flickering on, Steve is furiously stabbing and slashing at Vader in a way few know how to.

Because Vaapad was Master Windu's form, one he partially invented. One that very few had the control and discipline to practice without slipping too far into the Dark. Dustin had only seen Master Windu in exhibition duels, not full combat. It's very different when it's real, Dustin thinks.

Beside Steve, complimenting every move with synchronicity that comes from only the deepest and sacred of trust, is Robin. Robin who is a bit clumsy and doesn't like blasters, who drifts off in her own world sometimes, who's hands flutter whenever they feel. Where his is the cusp of night, Robin's saber is a brilliant sunrise orange, a blur as she pushes into Vader's defenses.

"go!" Steve yells, his focus slipping for a moment enough that Vader knocks his weapon from his hands. Dustin cannot move, cannot feel the tugging of Lucas on his jacket, or Mike shaking his shoulders.

Until they found El, who had barely escaped years of inquisitor conditioning, he had been alone. Had thought himself one of the only Jedi left. He had told Steve and Robin this, and they had looked at each other for a long moment. Steve had said "we are no Jedi, but we will protect you."

But he'd lied. They were Jedi, now facing down a sith.

Robin throws her own 'sabre to Steve even as she pulls his to her hand. They wield the blades as naturally as their own.

"RUN, NOW!"

Steve doesn't look away from Vader, but releases the double grip he has and throws his hand toward them, an invisible shove that pushes them all back to the door. To the shuttle. To safety.

Someone pushes Dustin away from the doors, and he watches as Vader raises his first in tandem with Robin's feet lifting off the ground. Steve is clutching his leg even as he reaches towards her.

The doors close.

Dustin doesn't realize he's screaming until Erica slaps her hands to his cheeks and forces him to look at her. "You need to pull it together. It's not gonna help them if we just get caught now."

He nods. Mike warns them to strap in for the jump to hyperspace. The jolt barely registers over his shaking.

"hey, man. How...uh. how are you doing?" Lucas's voice is softer, max standing behind him, clutching his hand so hard his fingers are squished together.

All he can gasp out is "why didn't they tell me?"

The rest are silent for a moment. It's a betrayal, this secret Robin and Steve kept. Dustin has been alone, for so long. He wanted to be close to his lost culture, to the people that are now few and far between, scattered in the stars and hiding. Why would they deny who they were? Their own People? When they could have taught him so much, revived something thought lost.

Gently, Lucas sits down, pulling Max beside him, and weaves his fingers between Dustin's trembling ones. They sit together for a long time.

Eventually, Lucas swallows loudly.

"I think..." Lucas, Dustin realizes, has been shaking too. They have all watched their friends, people who they love and have spent so much time with, sacrifice themselves to protect them all from the Emperor's guard dog. "I think that they were protecting us, by not saying anything."

"what?"

"Dustin. They're in their twenties. They probably fought in the Clone Wars. I just. I don't think they lied, really, about themselves."

Dustin rears back. "they said they weren't Jedi! That's a lie!"

Erica stirs, from Dustin's other side. He hadn't realized she was holding him.

"maybe it's not to them. Maybe...maybe they think of themselves as people who used to be Jedi. But aren't anymore. Maybe that's how they dealt with the war."

"but..." Dustin has never considered himself anything other than a Jedi, cannot comprehend shrugging it off even in the face of the Empire. "But why?"

Max, who has been silent, sniffs. "Because everything else they said was true." Mike, who retired from the cockpit Will and joined their cuddling hums questioningly.

She sighs. "Steve fell in love during the war, and planned a future raising little babies with whoever it was. Robin had a grand romance that was never meant to be with a politician or something. They've known each other since they were small."

"just now, we know they were doing that while fighting the Separatists." Lucas said.

"exactly. Think about it. I don't know who Steve could have fallen in love with, but... Mike. Didn't your sister have to work with a Jedi Padawan a few years before the Clone Wars? Didn't you say she got...weird? After? Robin was always weird about your last name..."

Mike goes stuff, even as Dustin barely registers anything about his sister, focusing on who Steve could have loved. A horrible, horrible possibility comes to mind that makes too much sense for how sad, heartbroken, confused Steve was about the "break up".

"oh stars." Says Mike. "Robin was the Jedi Nancy fell in love with before she fell for Jonathan. Oh no. She even said the Jedi had an orange 'sabre. Holy kark!"

Dustin sobs. Erica presses her face into his shoulder.

"Steve fell in love with a Clone." Bursts from his lips.

"what?" There's an overlap of voices. Shock, horror, confusion mixed together.

He shrugs. "It's the only thing that makes sense. Max, remember when he told us? About when they decided to be together? He said his--his love" and Dustin doesn't know if he says it as a dirty thing because the Clone troopers killed his family, or because Jedi very rarely had romantic relationships and he was still too young to understand the complexities of them for Jedi, or something else entirely. "Wanted to raise his little brothers. Protect them. Steve wanted...well I guess he must've wanted to be a creche master. They wanted to do it together. In the temple, at home."

Max joins. "He said That they'd spent a long time working together with his Ma, so--oh kriff, his force damned Master! That has to be it, right Dustin? That's like a parent for Jedi right? He...Steve said he watched her die. Watched...watched his lover die."

They are all silent, for a moment.

"do you think...do you think Steve had to kill him?" Mike asks, when only the rumble of hyperspeed fills the space.

Max counters with "Robin said she was on Coruscant when the Republic fell. What do you think she had to do? What she saw?" Dustin knows. Dustin saw the hallways. Saw the men in white armour who they all thought were friends massacre them in their home, led by some sith apprentice.

"I think they did what they had to to keep each other alive." Will says.

No one can argue with that.

Original post

[sylkishagsuperiority]

The hate on Sylvie boils down to 3 main reasons:

1) people hate her because she’s Loki’s love interest and in their weird possessive relationship over his character they CANNOT get over that (cue incest, selfcest, and “Sylvie is abusive” arguments)

2) people hate her because she got in the way of their m/m ship that the creators never intended to portray romantically in the first place and that has always had a less than 0 chance of happening because it’s Marvel (cue same set of arguments as above)

3) people hate her because she killed HWR and effectively started a new Multiversal war

I don’t even know where to start with that last one.

Yes, she started a war. But HWR was literally committing genocide 24/7. He had an organization of brainwashed people who literally murdered trillions on his behalf ALL THE TIME. Every time a single person steeped out of line, an entire timeline was erased. An entire universe with all the people in it. Just because it was happening quietly doesn’t make it any less fucked - and it definitely doesn’t make it better than a war. A war will have casualties, yes, but a war can also be ended. What HWR was doing was endless.

Another thing that people don’t seem to consider is that HWR is a master manipulator who did the fucking most to antagonize Sylvie from the moment she stepped into the Citadel. Admitting he manipulated her entire existence (“I paved the road, you two just walked down it”), sowing distrust between her and Loki (“you think you can trust this guy?”), yelling at her, telling her she’s a murderer like him (which is laughable, he was killing TRILLIONS)… He WANTED to make her as angry and unwilling to consider his offer as possible. Even Miss Minutes telling Loki he can get all the power he wants was IMO designed to make Sylvie think he might still be craving a throne, further destroying their trust.

Now, why would HWR rile Sylvie up so badly if he genuinely wanted her to consider his offer of taking over guarding the Sacred Timeline?

Because he never wanted her to choose that option. He wanted her to kill him. Whether it was because he was tired of living but didn’t have the courage to end things himself, or because he has a larger plan (sending Ravonna away on a mystery mission seems to point to the latter), Sylvie only did what he wanted her to do. He used her to the last.

Also, at the time, he was arguably the most powerful person in existence. If he didn’t want her to kill him, I highly doubt she would’ve gotten the chance to. He was only “defenseless” because he wanted to be.

Sylvie was just a pawn.

[astarryvamp]

A thorough hunt

HalsinxTav one shot that takes place before the events of the game

A charged weapon search

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

Tav had met many a druid in her time, but she had never been invited to a druid settlement. It was a rare opportunity for her, and, while she wished she could say this trip was for pleasure, it was duty that called her here. As curious as she was to catch a glimpse into their lives, her presence was met with mistrust and thinly veiled disdain.

She couldn't blame them, really. She knew city folk better than most. Cruelty and kindness came as easily as a coin toss to some.

Tav descended the stone steps towards the sacred pool, stopping short when a tall elf woman with a spear stood in front of her. “I am tasked with speaking with the Archdruid Halsin,” Tav said authoritatively.

The woman looked Tav up and down, taking in her leather jerkin and the longsword sheathed at her side with a suspicious eye. “The Watch does not operate outside of Baldur's Gate.” she said, clearly unwilling to have Tav enter their most sacred place. “Master Halsin has no business with you or anyone in the Upper city.”

Tav held up an envelope, wax seal clearly displaying the insignia indicating official affairs. “Maybe he doesn't, but The Watch has business with him. Let me pass”

The druid woman's dark carob eyes hardened at Tav’s words. A scowl deepened the lines of her tanned face. The woman was not interested in letting Tav pass, that much was clear, but she appeared to be weighing if turning Tav away was a valid option.

“I only mean to deliver this letter then I'll be on my way. My true business lies outside the Grove.”

“Leave your weapons here.” Her expression was steely, leaving no room for argument.

Tav bristled at the order. Already, she was being met with hostility. If things went pear shaped in the sanctum, she wouldn't have a way of protecting herself.

“She speaks true, Sword Tavra.” A new, much deeper voice cut in.

Her superiors had told her she would recognize Halsin as soon as she laid eyes on him. Now she understood why.

Tav watched in awe as the biggest elf she'd ever seen approached them. His easy smile and handsome features caught her off guard, and she couldn't help but openly stare. She was so caught up in her gawking that she nearly failed to notice the newly come, dour woman at his side glaring daggers at Tav.

The smile on the druid's face took on a knowing quality. Her admiration had not gone unnoticed. Her face burned hot when he gave her an appraising look in turn. “You look-” he pauses, giving her a teasing smile. “Very trustworthy, however outside weapons are forbidden from our inner sanctum. You'll be safe from any harm. I'll personally see to it.”

Was it just her, or had his cadence turned a little suggestive? Surely she had imagined it.

Shaking her head from her stupor, Tav returned the smile. “I have no doubt I'll be well taken care of in your hands, Archdruid Halsin,” she smiled. If anyone wanted to fight her, she felt a lot better knowing they'd have a mountain of an elf to get through first.

With a sigh she removed her sword from her person and set it to lean against the stone stairs. She hated going without a weapon. She felt naked in the worst way.

“And how do we know she's truly unarmed?” Began the dour woman who had yet to introduce herself. “The Sword is bound to have a dagger lying in wait”

“Peace, Kahga. Sword Tavra has compiled easily enough. If she says she's unarmed, then I will trust her.”

“Would you rather he pat me down?” Tav asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. Kahga seemed delightful.

“Why not?” Kahga sneered, stepping towards Tav threateningly. “We all know you fester in your city like rats. Now you seek to spread your plague here! Cutting down the Oak Father’s trees and slaughtering the animals taking haven here”

Halsin put out an arm, preventing the woman from taking another step forward. “Kahga,” he warned with a low rumble. The druid woman glared at him, even as she took a step back.

“If it will get Miss Sunshine to stand down, fine. How do you want me, Archdruid Halsin? Up against a wall? Out in the open? On my knees, maybe?” If he was okay with flirting then so was she. And judging from the smile he was fighting to keep off his face, he didn't mind.

“Right here is fine, if it pleases you, Sword Tavra,” he said, gesturing to where he was standing on the base of the stairs.

“Just ‘Tav’ is fine. If you're going to have your hands on me, we should probably be familiar with one another.”

Another smile played at the druid's lips. He was enjoying their little game. Good. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't having fun right now. She also couldn't deny the electric air passing between them.

“If you agree to simply call me ‘Halsin’,” he said, hazel eyes once again tracing her silhouette.

Tav moved to stand before him staring up at him with warm amber eyes, cocking her in invitation. “Best get to it, Halsin.”

His eyes danced with mirth and heat in equal parts. It was a gaze she could easily drown in. Halsin reached forward and gingerly took one of her hands in his own. Fingertips lightly traced over the soft skin of her inner wrist, his eyes never leaving hers. Slowly he traced up her arm, up to her shoulder. Her breath hitched in her throat when he trailed his calloused touch over her collar bone, lingering a moment before he explored her other arm.

He palmed down her sides, drawing a shiver from Tav as his thumbs grazed under her breasts at a leisurely pace. The corners of his lips quirked into a hint of a smile when Tav leaned into the touch minutely.

Halsin moved to kneel before her, large hands settling on one of her thighs, smoothing over muscles with his explorations. “Faring well?” He murmured, voice only loud enough to barely brush her hearing alone.

“With this view? How could I not?” She practically purred. His touches had only been light and teasing and yet, it still filled her belly with fiery want. Gods, she dearly hoped they could afford a moment alone once her business was completed.

“Mm, I believe that was my line,” he said, his intense gaze drinking in her face. Goodness, she could get drunk in that voice.

All too soon he was rising to his feet and give Kahga a mild smile. “She is free of weapons. Now, if you are satisfied, Tav and I have some matters to attend to. In private,” he cut in as Kahga turned to walk towards the inner sanctum.

The smaller druid shot her a last glare before stalking past her up the stairs.

“Come, Tav,” he said, his voice a deep rumble. “I'm not in the habit of leaving tasks half done”

“Well, for the sake of perfection, let's get to it”

[tio-trile]

Good Omens fan since 2011 here! First of all just wanna say that you're one of my fav GO artists ever and your fanart of The Sacred and The Profane is still so important to me actually <3

Anyway, I'm a book fan through and through and when they first announced the TV Show I have to admit I was a bit hesitant but overall have made peace to the fact that it won't be 1:1. No adaption ever does but as long as the core stays there I'm good with it.

And while there are some parts I'm not a big fan of (The Dove being one but also how Crowley ask Aziraphale to ran away with him. I just can never see him asking that like he's the first one asking Aziraphale to work with him in stopping the Armageddon. And he's deep down is an optimist. So I can never see him asking Aziraphale to ran away regardless how desperate he is. Like on one hand I was like 'oh that's sweet' in shipping glasses but at the same time it's a 'he would not say that' moment to me 😔) but otherwise it was a good fun!

When S2 was announced, it took me off guard bc like. Do we *really* need this? I don't see why we need a S2?? I think biggest part is bc I've made peace over how we'd never getting a sequel. I'm at peace that those can just be explored in fan sphere 637382992 ways. I never see the necessity of needing a S2 or even S3. And while a part of me still a bit curious on what S2 is like, the response from the book fans I trust hasn't been .... good. So I think I'll sit this one out for now and maybe revisit it at some point in the future lol.

Silver lining I guess is the graphic novel! I'm really excited about that!! Curious how the book will translate as a comic :)

Anyway, sorry if this isn't really structured but I guess I just wanna say I've been enjoying reading your replies and asks from other folks as well! But also the one ask about GO could be the next SPN experience killed me point blank <3

Omg hi!! Wow, you've been in the fandom longer than I have...and THANK YOU for your kind words!! 🥺

And yes to all you said. S1 wasn't perfect, but I find myself overlooking the imperfections because overall it was a pretty faithful and good adaptation. And totally agree on the "run away" thing -- we bring up the dove a lot but that is honestly another "he would not say that" moment as you said. I was just talking with my friend about how book!Crowley is an optimist -- see how after he was sure that Aziraphale had disincorporated and the bookshop is aflame, Crowley still decided to drive down to the airfield to help the humans with nothing to lose or gain for him anymore, simply because he loves Earth too.

I talked about it briefly in a previous ask but I too was very sure that we wouldn't get season 2, because Neil Gaiman wouldn't ditch his dear dead friend to write more Good Omens on his own, right?......until he did. And like you said, we don't need a S2. The book fandom has been around for 30 years and still going strong. I guess the party that needed S2 the most is Amazon, and it just all comes down to money in the end.

I preordered the graphic novel and I'm curious how they'll adapt the book too! Season 2 has hurt me a little too much that I feel hesitant to say I look forward to any adaptations now......😂 but I am still curious about it! Again, thank you for your kind words! I think Good Omens is looking to be the next SuperWhoLock all by itself.

[walkswithmyfather]

‭‭2 Timothy‬ ‭1:5‭-‬14‬ ‭(NLT‬‬). “I remember your genuine faith, for you share the faith that first filled your grandmother Lois and your mother, Eunice. And I know that same faith continues strong in you. This is why I remind you to fan into flames the spiritual gift God gave you when I laid my hands on you. For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline. So never be ashamed to tell others about our Lord. And don’t be ashamed of me, either, even though I’m in prison for him. With the strength God gives you, be ready to suffer with me for the sake of the Good News. For God saved us and called us to live a holy life. He did this, not because we deserved it, but because that was his plan from before the beginning of time—to show us his grace through Christ Jesus. And now he has made all of this plain to us by the appearing of Christ Jesus, our Savior. He broke the power of death and illuminated the way to life and immortality through the Good News. And God chose me to be a preacher, an apostle, and a teacher of this Good News. That is why I am suffering here in prison. But I am not ashamed of it, for I know the one in whom I trust, and I am sure that he is able to guard what I have entrusted to him until the day of his return. Hold on to the pattern of wholesome teaching you learned from me—a pattern shaped by the faith and love that you have in Christ Jesus. Through the power of the Holy Spirit who lives within us, carefully guard the precious truth that has been entrusted to you.”

“The Treasure of Faith” By In Touch Ministries:

“Spiritual legacies begin with God’s faithful ones—will others learn of Christ through you?”

“Where does faith come from? It’s a gift of God, ultimately, but the Bible repeatedly points to the value of a faithful life. One example is the apostle Paul’s disciple, Timothy, whose mother and grandmother were strong role models of faith.

We know nothing of Lois or Eunice beyond the mention of them in 2 Timothy 1:5. They are probably the reason the young minister had known “the sacred writings” of Scripture all his life—from these devout women, in other words, he had received “the wisdom that leads to salvation through faith which is in Christ Jesus” (2 Timothy 3:15).

But what about those of us without a legacy like Timothy’s? Paul spoke to that as well, saying that God “saved us and called us with a holy calling, not according to our works, but according to His own purpose and grace” (1:9).

Like Timothy, those of us with godly parents enjoy the fruit of their faithfulness. But if you’re the first believer in your family, then you’re creating the legacy of faithfulness for future generations. That’s what Paul charges Timothy to protect and “entrust … to faithful people” (2 Timothy 2:2). And it’s our charge, too. If we guard and pass down this treasure, our loved ones will, by God’s grace, continue the tradition of faith.”

[Photo by Osama Saeed at Unsplash]

[sokkas-first-fangirl]

Hello!!

Angsty prompt idea, no pressure if you don't want to

Roland pov of the Calamity from Luminous? I'm curious what was going through his head, any regrets he might have had, anything he never had the chance to say (or had the chance and didn't take it)

💖💖💖💖💖

This has some spoilers for Roland's backstory and some upcoming memories, so proceed with caution if you don't wanna know yet!

When Roland Hallow was sixteen, his father, a member of the Royal Guard, was killed by a Lynel.

Roland saw the whole thing, out on his first major patrol with his father. A White-Maned Lynel appeared as if from nowhere, intent on slaughtering a caravan of merchants, and Roland's father raced ahead on his horse to aid them.

He killed the Lynel, but died in the process, shouting at Roland again and again to stay back. Because he wasn't yet fit to fight such a beast, not yet skilled enough, nor had he had enough training to even attempt it. He could not help his father, and his father died.

Roland had promised such a thing would never happen again.

So he trained. He worked. He became Captain of the City Guard at Castle Town itself, trusted by the Royal Family, trusted with the safety of their country's capital, welcome at Hyrule Castle and among the royal court. When his son was born, Roland was seized with fear; Link stopped breathing twice, born two months early, far too small and delicate to survive.

But he did survive. Roland would make sure he continued to do so.

When Aryll was born, that fear returned. Bigger and sturdier than her brother had been as a newborn babe, Roland still woke in the night, certain he would find her dead in her crib. He never did, of course.

So he trained his children. When Link asked what knights did, Roland showed him how to fight, sternly telling him that knights defended people, they kept everyone safe. When Aryll said she wanted to be tough, Roland taught her to fight too, though his daughter was more interested in painting than blades.

And then Link, his son, his eldest, so small for his age, found the Master Sword. His boy was the Chosen Hero, the sacred soul reincarnated again and again to protect Hyrule; the reincarnation of the man Goddess Hylia Herself fell in love with. Suddenly, all of Hyrule was watching. Suddenly, all of Hyrule depended on his twelve-year-old.

His son was not just a pre-teen. Link Hallow was Hylia's Chosen, a symbol of hope and strength to their country, a figure that people prayed for in times of trouble.

And if Link wanted to survive, then he needed to live up to that.

"You need to be strong. You must not falter. You cannot. The people of Hyrule look to you for strength. If they see fear in your eyes, they will fear as well. Why fight if Hylia’s Chosen is frightened? You carry the Triforce of Courage in your very soul; you must be brave. They must only see strength when they look at you. No matter what, you must remain strong. You are the example and they will follow you. You must be perfect for them."

He just wanted Link to be strong enough, he swore he did. To fight, to survive. If he was the strongest, if he was the best of the best, then Ganon would not kill him. A little tough love was surely all the boy needed to turn into The Hero. Roland couldn't coddle him (not that he'd ever been the coddling sort) if he wanted Link to live. He needed Link to be on his toes; to wake-up, to open his eyes and understand his position.

Now, Akkala Citadel was burning. Now, Roland saw just what Calamity Ganon was capable of.

The Guardians had turned against them, slaughtering everyone in sight. They'd blown up the bridge to the Citadel, but it wasn't enough. Too many Guardians had already made their way inside, not to mention the damnable Skywatchers.

Duncan, his little brother, stared at him with wide eyes as the entire training room shook with the force of the attack. It was like an earthquake. For a moment, Roland could see the little boy that Duncan had been, ashen-faced at their father's funeral, propping their mother up as she wept. Duncan Hallow, sunny-natured, loud, bull-headed...And now he looked petrified.

"The kids," Duncan whispered. For a split second, Roland thought he meant the caretakers' children, the children of the staff, hiding somewhere throughout the Citadel. But no, Duncan meant Link and Aryll.

("If you want to make it up to me," Link said coldly before his wedding. "Be there for Aryll. Because I promise you, if I even suspect that you've made her hate herself, if I think for even a second that you made her wish she was dead, I'll kill you.")

And Roland...Hadn't been there. He continued to work, he continued to train, he continued to guard their city. He hadn't listened to his son.

("Aryll hardly knows who you are!" Link snapped, entirely out of patience now. "I'm her father!" "YOU WERE MY FATHER TOO!")

Aryll was in Castle Town. Calla, his mother. And Irma, oh Goddesses, Irma...She was so angry and disappointed in him, wasn't she? She'd been so for a long time.

Everyone had been angry and disappointed in him.

The understanding was like a flash of lightning: he was about to die and his entire family was disappointed in him.

His mother was disappointed, always giving him such a sad smile when Roland brushed off her offers to spend time together. Aryll ran to Link with her complaints and bad dreams, not to Roland. Duncan had argued, again and again, for Roland to go home more often; to have a date night with Irma, to take Aryll to the park, the visit Link in Zora's Domain, to simply sit and have some lunch with their mother.

These last few months, Irma had hardly looked at him when he came home.

And his son hated him.

A child hid under the stairs, weeping. His mother, one of the maids, curled protectively around him.

Was Irma protecting Aryll like that right now?

The Guardians found them. Between one heartbeat and the next, the Guardians broke down the doors and burst into the training room.

Roland thought of the blood on Link's fingers, the lack of light in his eyes. He remembered telling himself it was a silly phase, that Link just needed to toughen up and grow up.

His son was expected to kill hatred incarnate, to fight a demon, and if the Princess hadn't unlocked her powers today then he'd be all alone, and Roland wasn't there, Roland wasn't fucking there, he never was, was he? Roland wasn't there and Link was going to...

He thought of Aryll looking almost bewildered when he asked what she'd done in school that day, how short and awkward her answers were.

He thought of Irma turning away from him, all that fire and light hidden away from him. No more singing, no more teasing; just a flat, angry, disappointed glare.

He thought of Calla's soft sighs, how she shook her head when he walked away. He thought of her arthritis and wondered, with mounting horror, how she could possibly escape the Guardians when she couldn't run.

Roland wasn't there for them.

But as those flashing red lasers zeroed in on his little brother, Roland raced forward.

If he was fast enough, if he was strong enough, he could save Duncan. He needed to run, he needed to grab Duncan, he needed to-

Roland pushed Duncan behind him and the lasers fired.

[theprocrastinatingredkitty]

Someone asked this in one of the pages I follow

So here’s my take on this

BD posted a teaser of Seungwon’s appearance in season 4 before in one of her tweets

And in this season, we also see Heena, taking Seungho’s side after she’s been saved

Since Seungho and Na-Kyum are mirrors of each other, we can also assume that even their respective families are mirrors as well

With Seungwon now in the picture, him having shown to appearing as a defiant younger brother who’s messing up his older brother’s household, we can take this as his version of Heena’s first appearance in the manhwa, where she raised ruckus in the Yoon household

Notice that in both cases, they barged in under the assumption that Seungho had commited a crime. For Heena, she assumed that Seungho kidnapped Na-Kyum, whereas now, Seungwon assumed that Seungho burned down the shaman house after the murders of the noblemen

In Heena’s case, Na-Kyum defended Seungho’s name and told her that she’ll stay with him despite the “evidence” that Seungho committed the crime of murdering In-Hun

And we can assume that in Seungwon’s case, Na-Kyum will also do the same to Seungwon. We can assume that Na-Kyum will not believe that Seungho murdered the noblemen, as Na-Kyum had been brainwashed that the night of the kidnapping was merely a nightmare, and I think that in his delusion of wanting peace to remain in his heart, Na-Kyum will believe it for some time unless he sees or hears evidence that Seungho did commit a crime

Seungwon can come off as someone who is hardheaded just like in his first appearance when he barged in on Seungho’s bedchamber despite even being told off by Kim, and we can assume that Seungwon has been brainwashed by Chang-Hyeon that his older brother had committed a crime and must be punished before officials find out, because a nobleman committing murder of another noble, let alone a bunch of noblemen, can equate to the annihilation of the criminal’s entire clan. Additionally, the sacrilegious act of defiling and burning down a shaman house along with a sacred tree, warrants hatred from the Shamanistic Joseon people, who considers these elements as beings not to be destroyed, as doing so would incur the wrath of heaven upon the entire village or even the nation itself. With this knowledge of the gravity of the situation, this is why Seungwon orders the guards around in such haste in case any of the servants have destroyed any evidence unknowingly

Seungwon has yet to know though, that the biggest evidence would be in the form of Na-Kyum himself. The trauma is still fresh in his mind even after a month under Seungho’s care and supervision.

And just like the brainwashed Heena who was convinced that In-Hun had been kind to Na-Kyum, Seungwon would initially not likely to believe that his brother didn’t burn the shaman house down, as it’s most likely that the info he got had been from his trusted source, Yoon Chang-Hyeon, their father. Who, in Seungwon’s eyes, is most likely his hero who does everything he can to preserve the Yoon family name. Seungwon had most likely been subjected to information that Seungho is a stain on the family and would one day be the cause of their annihilation. And Seungwon is now there at Seungho’s house to “save the family from his brother’s misdeed”. I think Seungwon thinks Seungho “can be saved from his father’s wrath if he can only come clean with his crime”. Judging by the urgency and the calm appearance of Seungwon in chapter 115, I think he wants his older brother’s affection in some way, despite them being estranged. Hence this is why Seungwon might initially come off as an enemy (like Heena did in her first appearance), but is most likely going to be an ally once the truth is revealed to him—that his brother didn’t destroy a holy place and the sacred tree, that his brother committed murder in the name of love

Seungwon, I think, has a heart in there somewhere, a heart that wants to understand why his brother acts the way he does. And yet, his actions come off to Seungho as meddlesome—exactly like how Heena is to Na-Kyum’s life when she found out he was living with Seungho.

For now, I am placing Seungwon as a gray character who’d be most likely become one of SeungKyum’s supporters once the truth is revealed to him—that the bad guy had been his father all along. But I am sure he’ll be having a moral dilemma at that point, it’d be hard for him to believe it at first, just like when Heena didn’t believe Seungho until she gets kidnapped

Which brings me to another theory, that at some point, Seungwon might get caught up in a conspiracy and he’d be wrapped up in something he’s not supposed to see. And just like Heena, Seungwon, too, could get kidnapped—either by Song’s men, or maybe even Chang-Hyeon himself, probably under the pretext that “your brother did this to you and therefore you must kill him”

I think that is the plan that Chang-Hyeon is going to pull off. He doesn’t want his hands dirty, he always gets others to do the dirty work for him. And Seungho’s death could include that. Since the ending of chapter 115 showed Seungho being stabbed, we can assume that it’s Chang-Hyeon’s guard who did this. This coincides with the appearance of Song before In-Hun. The older nobles are looking for ways to dispose of Seungho without linking the crimes back to them—and I think they found their fall guy with In-Hun

Now, I think: Chang-Hyeon made a deal with Song and it seemingly appeared as if they want In-Hun to take the blame under the pretext that In-Hun hated Seungho enough, he hired an assassin to get him killed; but all the while, Song is thinking of something else entirely. I think Song wants Seungwon to take the blame. Song could manipulate Seungwon at some point into thinking that the younger Yoon is helping his brother when in reality it’s not. (Like in the case of Min manipulating Heena into thinking he’ll save Na-Kyum when he did the complete opposite.) Song could take down both the Yoon brothers and Chang-Hyeon in one fell swoop, all the while Chang-Hyeon is unknowingly signing the death of his entire clan to this one devious man

[triforce-of-mischief]

Earrings

@6leafclover

Time: got his ears pierced by Impa soon after he emerged from the Sacred Realm. He wasn’t too keen on doing it again after he grew up but Malon told him that they would compliment his eyes AND that she could hold his hand. She said the latter part half-jokingly but Time immediately accepted and he ended up too giddy to feel the piercing.

Twilight: was unaware of the tradition due to growing up in a village of round-eared humans until he met Renado, who is more knowledgable of Hylian customs. The shaman offered to do it if Twilight brought him a pair of earrings from Castle Town. Midna found it hilarious when they discovered that they carried over to his wolf form for whatever reason.

Warriors: got them pierced as soon as he was of age so he could fit in with the other recruits. He wants to try out different earrings now that he doesn’t have regulations to stick to.

Wind: wants to get his ears pierced but he isn’t of age yet. Has considered sneaking off by himself to get it done. Wild has offered to do it but Wind doesn’t trust him to be careful enough. NO Wild it is not safe to use a dagger, get that thing away from his head.

Four: recently turned of age but he’s fine with just the Minish earring, which he made himself after his first adventure. His Grandpa knew someone who was willing to pierce his ear before the traditional age.

Wild: isn’t sure when he got his ears pierced but he knows it was probably around the time he was assigned as Zelda’s Champion. Obviously he loves collecting as many sets as possible. 

Legend: if you ask him why he doesn’t have earrings he’ll give you an answer like “I don’t have the time” or “It’s not like I have any magic earrings anyway” or “I just don’t see the big deal is.” This is a lie. He is afraid of needles and guards this secret with his life.

Hyrule: the tradition died out by his time and he isn’t even sure if he’s old enough (he is). He’s a bit wary of unnecessary sharp objects (blood curse) and he doesn’t think he would look good with earrings but he would accept them if they were required.

Sky: got his ears pierced a while ago slightly after he enrolled in the Academy. It was later that the Sheikah would start the tradition of piercing as a sign of manhood. Sky just thought they looked cool and they were all the rage at the time. Being able to wear the Fireshield Earrings right away was a nice bonus too. 

Ravio: also afraid of needles but is more open about it. He wishes he was brave enough to get his ears pierced because he thinks he would look good with earrings. Wild introduces him to clip-ons to his absolute delight.

[daitranscripts]

Under Her Skin Pt. 5

Listening In

Under Her Skin Masterpost First: Vicinius Previous: Memory Crystal

The PC rejoins Leliana in the rookery. The crystal sits on the table, and the PC sits beside her.

PC: Have we smuggled the other memory crystal into Calpernia’s camp?

Leliana: We have. Here.

The figure of Calpernia and the mage Linnea appear from the crystal.

Calpernia: Ugh. Even honey can’t sweeten felandaris…

Linnea: I’ll keep trying.

Calpernia: You are no slave, Linnea. I’ll add another spoonful myself. Later.

They disappear.

Dialogue options:

General: She remembers slavery. [1]

General: Can she hear us? [2]

General: Anything good? [3]

1 - General: She remembers slavery. PC: Calpernia seems to be treating her new acolytes kindly. Leliana: While I found that interesting, this is what you must hear. [4]

2 - General: Can she hear us? PC: I hope this link doesn’t go both ways. Leliana: Dagna says not. Besides, the conversation happened days ago. [4]

3 - General: Anything good? PC: What have you learned so far? [4]

4 - Scene continues.

Leliana activates the crystal again. and Calpernia and Corypheus appear.

Calpernia: Master. Forgive me, I didn’t expect–

Corypheus: The time for your ascension nears. Tell me of your preparation.

Calpernia: They go well enough, although I’m distracted here. If I could train at the shrine…

Corypheus: Only Dumat’s faithful may enter. Continue as before… or would you see the Imperium’s rebirth stalled by your lack of focus?

Calpernia: I will be ready. As the Vessel, and Tevinter’s champion.

Dialogue options:

General: She’s a patriot. PC: Calpernia sounds like she’s doing this for Tevinter, not Corypheus. ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ

General: More “Vessel” talk. PC: Just how much training does becoming the Vessel involve? ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ

General: We’re short of time. PC: Whatever Corypheus intends for the “Vessel,” it’s happening soon.

Calpernia walks towards the crystal.

Calpernia: Another deflection. And… why, a dwarven bauble. As if mine was miraculously returned to me! Let’s give your new owner a glimpse of [their] fate. Venatori! We leave!

The scene ends.

Leliana: That is all the crystal recorded before she found it. But I think it may be enough. A shrine to Dumat, Corypheus said. Where Calpernia is forbidden to go.

5 - Dialogue options:

Investigate: Who is Dumat? [6]

General (after investigate): She’ll warn Corypheus.

General: Calpernia will warn Corypheus. [7]

General: He’s hiding something. [8]

General: I want to see that shrine. [9]

6 - Investigate: Who is Dumat? PC: Who is this Dumat that Corypheus mentioned? Leliana: An Old God, worshipped in ancient Tevinter as the Dragon of Silence. He was the first to rise as an Archdemon and bring the Blight. Truly a god fit for Corypheus. [back to 5]

7 - General: She’ll warn Corypheus./Calpernia will warn Corypheus. PC: Corypheus will be on guard once Calpernia tells him we were listening. Leliana: I wonder. She may wish to see what we do, first. She must realize he is hiding something from her. Let us investigate this shrine–carefully. I doubt Corypheus has left it unguarded. [10]

8 - General: He’s hiding something. PC: I’d bet Corypheus has something in that shrine he doesn’t want Calpernia to see. Leliana: I agree. There is much to gain here. Whatever Corypheus hides from his trusted lieutenant should be illuminating. Let us investigate this shrine–carefully. I doubt Corypheus has left it unguarded. [10]

9 - General: I want to see that shrine. PC: If that shrine is Corypheus’s inner sanctum, I want in. Leliana: Perhaps he believes the shrine is sacred. More likely, he is hiding something from Calpernia. And she suspects it. Let us investigate this shrine–carefully. I doubt Corypheus has left it unguarded. [10]

10 - Scene ends.

Next - Shrine of Dumat

[enrax]

Come What May

When: November 22, 2022 Where: Car en route to the Guan Estate

The car arrives at 5 p.m. to fetch him.

Junji has been to the estate before, but this is the first time he's returned since Roga and Aeu's slumber. It'll be strange, he thinks as he settles into the supple back seat, to be in that house knowing its proprietors are sleeping not far away. He imagines that this must be a comforting proximity for Soa, but the necromancer finds it a tad creepy.

Although the journey is long, Junji is well-prepared. There are many work reports to read, for one thing, and so much mental preparation he needs to conjure out of thin air before his arrival. The grandeur of the Guan domain is staggering. The first visit had been such an arresting and not a little sinister experience that he'd been inclined to think the property was magically enchanted.

And so with the sun mounted low in the sky and great bursts of red leaves melting off the trees, Junji is driven to the Gaun Estate.

He's not alone in the backseat. One of the Guan's guards sits in the seat across from him, watching him and not being the least bit subtle about it. Junji knows better than to engage him in conversation. He'd tried it before, and the man had shut him down with nary a word, glaring at him from behind dark sunglasses. The necromancer's insides had withered from the embarrassment.

He reviews the reports for as long as he can. When they reach a certain bend in the road, one Junji recalls with searing clarity, the guard tugs a silk bag over his head. Why this was necessary at this point he did not know. He'd spent the better part of a decade serving this family, but he still posed a threat to their privacy. He had no sight into Roga's heart, but he knew that while he trusted Junji to an extent, he didn't trust him with the sacred knowledge of the Guan hearth. That was a privilege reserved for those with whom shared his blood.

They are driving uphill. He can feel the altitude change in his head and ears. With his vision restrained, his remaining senses are working overtime to keep him grounded. If he remembers correctly, he will be wearing this bag for an hour, so he tries to relax. He counts three checkpoints and tries to imagine the daily routine of the guards stationed at those locations. What did they have to sacrifice in order to attain the knowledge needed to do their jobs properly?

The time passes and the bag is torn from his head. The sudden rush of light into his corneas is startling, even though there's barely any sunlight left. He blinks and fixes his hair.

The estate is even more ornate than he recalls, an imposing Gothic mansion standing tall against the hills, possessing darkness within. Three guard towers have been erected near the port, and large dogs with gleaming teeth patrol the grounds.

Another sentry stands at stiff attention in front of the house. Each of the men chosen for sentinel duty had hard mouths and arrogant postures, meaty muscles claiming dominance over their large physiques and projecting an air of perpetual violence. Not even the suave grace of their designer suits could conceal the enormous power of their bodies.

When Junji steps out of the car, it is this guard who leads him deeper into the property. Yet again, no pleasantries are exchanged. He guesses the Guan's did not pay these men to speak. They enter the main building swiftly, ascending an L-shaped set of stairs into Soa's wing.

@ilnerium

[sayakxmi]

[Magi rewatch] Episode 13: Prince of the Rebellion [Part 1]

I can (did and will) complain about many things regarding the first season of the anime, but DAMN do they have cool titles.

Also, special episode, as it also has a new op.

Matataku Hoshi no Shita de - Under the Twinkling Stars. I've never checked the translation of the title, ngl.

Magi maps are a headache, but it does look cool.

OPs really out there trying to fool me into believing they're an actual trio instead of a duo + Morgiana, and boy will I get to this part either this or the next episode. Cuz there's one thing I gotta comment on, but idk when it happens in the anime.

You know Gordon Ramsey and that "You fucking donkey"? That's me with Hakuryuu. And kinda Sinbad, too. But mostly Hakuryuu. Every time I remember the Kou Empire Arc, and then the Final Arc, I'm like, somebody should take a bat and beat the shit out of you. Don't get me wrong, I love him, but boy does his writing frustrate me.

On a different note, RIP to Hakuryuu kinda. In this OP, I mean. I love Team Zagan & kinda miss it, but here we get Aladdin, Alibaba & Morgiana flying around, and then him observing that only. Not a part of the group, not really. Tho maybe the fact that he's looking up is, like, supposed to be a foreshadowing of him joining? Hm.

Ya bet I'm ready for Cassim flashbacks every arc.

Alibaba looks kinda angry, lol.

Ok, y'know what? These Al-Thamen transitions, then Alibaba's sword before the chorus, they look pretty cool, I'll give them that.

OH WAIT, it's not just his sword. A moment later the sword breaks (sorry didn't screenshot the breaking moment). It's foreshdowing of the blade breaking! That's neat.

I don't even know what to say about this, I'm just kinda laughing.

Hello, Generals, who don't get that much too do in Magi. At least you have stuff going for you in SnB.

Also, Sinbad in that one moment looked pretty cool, ngl. Sorry no photo, it's kinda fast, and how many times do I have to rewatch these moments to make a screenshot...

Ok, that's hilarious.

Welp, Morgiana out there dancing, and these two went to be a duo on their own. I will get to that moment, trust me. As much as I love it, I do have one complaint.

Also, look at the sacred not-full moon. Very rare sight.

I wonder if the moon looking like that is, like, symbolic, cuz Sinbad is half-fallen, and all. So if you go with my moon->fate/guidance, no moon->depravity/rebelling against fate, then this moon is, well, both. So, Sinbad.

The song is, overall, pretty ok. Very Magi-OP-like. Like, no deep feelings, it's just neat.

ALSO! You guys gotta see this MMV, fucking awesome. Alma Torran/Kou Empire Arc spoilers.

But, anyway, to the actual episode.

Bro, the fucking horn.

Enfin Apparu is playing! Very fitting, given the title.

On the one hand, there's nobody screaming to kill the guards, on the other, it's kinda cool how Alibaba just waves his hand and they stop throwing the stones.

Hell yeah.

"My people! Wait here! I'll change this country!"

"I wanted to fall in love." Absolutely, but damn, you deserve so much better than that guy.

Anyway, Kougyoku's pretty as always.

Damn, the way Kougyoku's imaginary 23rd turns into the actual 23rd, lmao.

Jesus fucking Christ.

The further we go, the more I wonder: why the fuck does this guy get to live. Fuck him with a chainsaw fr.

We ain't playin anymore.

Gotta admit.

Ew

I'm not sure how the flames were supposed to help, but ok.

No, srsly, how were the flames supposed to cushion him here. For one, it's fire, which is still dangerous, MV or not, and for other... just genuinely what was it meant to do. I'd understand if he went ablaze before getting hit, to at least harm his enemy at the same time, but here... Idk, man. Weird magic shit, I guess?

Interesting. Here after being hit Alibaba thinks "There's no way I can defeat him", while in the manga he goes "I don't have the time to play with him!". So, completely different attitudes. Anime!Alibaba doubts himself more, while Manga!Alibaba focuses on getting shit done, maaybe a bit hastily, but he does keep the cool head in spite of that.

This bitch ugly af

That's a lot of fire.

We don't appreciate how fucking jumpy Alibaba is.

I'll be honest, in the anime Alibaba comments how he needs to focus more, while in the manga it seemed almost effortless for him to more or less fight this guy AND try to figure out Weapon Equip. Small thing, but made me go Huh.

Oh, hey, Notre Empire started playing.

OH HEY, Anise actually has a VA.

I'll be honest, I know it has all that meaning etc, but it always looked kind of silly. Maybe bc Alibaba is so weirdly low quality here. Dunno.

Ouch

They cut the arteries? Would it even be that much blood?

Listen, I know it's just his imagination, but ngl, I asked myself that question and now I wonder. It always seemed like a bit of an overkill, but then again, I've never cut anybody's throat nor seen somebody do it (and I'd rather keep it that way).

"At your darkest moments, you've always seen yourself drowning in your own blood - so much more of it than you thought it was possible for a single body to carry.

Turns out when you actually die, you don't bleed at all. Your limbs are gone, your soul soon follows, and yet your corpse remains intact on the scorched battlefield, surrounded by fear and mad laughter."

Idk.

Ughh

AGH

"You're brave! I know it!"

Brooo, early Magi Aladdin and Alibaba relationship was so fucking pure.

Hell yeah