#battle lover sulfur

[magicalgirlsandcerulean]

Welp, now that's over...Time for more tweets.

More famous scenes from the Love Macho X account.

Ichiro's birthday was the 8th of August, so the Love Macho account shared this icon.

If you have the Love Macho account as a friend on Line, you can try sending special keywords (such as character names) and see what replies you get. Tested it with En and not only does it give you the character profile text, it gives you an icon as a present.

This campaign's already over, but on 8th - 9th Aug. 2024 (all dates/times JST), there was a "Single Stroke of the Day" campaign. Basically, it said how Akihiko felt that day. (The image says "Tap here to show results".)

(Update: Removed an incorrect dot point. Thanks @soullessserenity.)

[hellohimawarihana]

Binan Koukou iconic moments from Love Macho Twitter. (Random-Naming Attack)

For the translation of what their weird-naming attacks are, check here.

[magicalgirloftheday]

✧・ﾟ:Today’s magical boy of the afternoon is: Battle Lover Sulfur from Cute High Earth Defense Club LOVE!!✧・ﾟ:

[crguang]

a lover’s goodbye kiss

Are we ever truly done with grief?

angst, gn!reader, ptsd. 6k words of mourning and bitter reunions

A/N: this really got away from me, i also cried while writing it so do with that what you will. not entirely satisfied with it, but it’s okay. hope someone enjoys it regardless

Grief is a part of you. It seeps into your pores, settles in your bloodstream like cancerous chemicals and forces you to live with it, to endure the brunt of it lest memories pull you under permanently. For long-life species, grief is ironically common. The belief that Xianzhou natives are unaccustomed to death is a false one; though it is slow to come, it envelops them regardless, often twice over. The Mara curse is first. Its inevitability leaves an imprint in people’s hearts, a sort of impression they are born with and cannot outgrow. To be a long-life species is to become Mara-struck, a shell of your former self driven by bloodlust and fragmented memories. That, in itself, is death. Your body is no longer your own and neither is your mind, you are a senseless abomination destined to roam the world until someone or something delivers the fatal, long-awaited blow needed to end your misery. Though this heavy subject is not often discussed among the people, accepting that fate is done with bloodied teeth and scorched fingertips, a personal battle with grief from which you come out only somewhat victorious. Knowing that you’ll eventually be stricken by Mara is one thing, accepting that your loved ones will walk the same path is another entirely. No one talks about the worst part. Nobody tells you what you’re supposed to do when the memories fade away, replaced by the acrid smell of sulfur and a chill in your bones that you can never shake.

Hundreds of years of memories— content smiles, sun rays onto sweaty skin, cold hands in pale locks of hair, unspoken devotion— are hidden behind mist requiring immense focus to see through. You are not Mara-struck yet. Your mind is still your own, as much as it can be, and you are still alive. You ask yourself why often. Why it was her, first, and not you. Why you’re stuck living with holes inside of you when maybe you should’ve died along with the hundred Cloud Knights that had the misfortune of crossing her path that night. Loss has made you ashamed, you can’t even speak her name. It’d been erased from history and forbidden after that night, out of social disappointment and shame, but that is not why you can’t bear to utter it. It’s unfair that this is what you remember most of her; the collapsed buildings, the unbearable smell, the frozen corpses… Her beloved blade through your stomach. The way her gaze softened after a few glasses of wine has been replaced by the flash of crimson you caught a glimpse of before her sword buried itself in your guts. You vaguely recall how endearingly tight her muscles always were, how you or Baiheng had to smooth the knots out of her body once in a while. The news of her breaking out of the Shackling Prison, however, along with the screams that followed form a clear image in your treacherous mind. What use are memories if they are so fickle, so easily supplanted by horrors that quicken your heartbeat on thought alone?

If anything, you do not shoulder this immense grief alone. Jing Yuan was a scrawny, eager boy when you first met him, almost half your height and always trailing behind her like the dutiful apprentice he was. His enthusiasm lit up the training yard and his youthful determination quickly earned him a place amongst your most cherished. He would seek you out after hours of conditioning, sweat still clinging to his bushy brows, and request a friendly spar to show you what he’s learned, how fast he was getting, how swift he could slash his sword. Your position as a Lieutenant of the Cloud Knights made him look at you with naked admiration, he’d hang onto your every word with a seriousness unfit of his age and at times offered insight only a boy who had never known war could come up with. You think you remember a figure in the shade of a growing tree standing several feet away from where you and Jing Yuan sparred. Quiet as a golden eagle, diligent gaze making note of every sloppy thrust and slow retreat she would reproach her retainer afterwards, his master only revealed herself when the tip of your blade against his neck announced his defeat.

Jing Yuan was the one to rescue you on the ice. His quick intervention allowed for healers from the Alchemy Commission to reach you in time and tend to your injuries. He was also the one to end her. It had to be him, you know, but you regret your own weakness, your faltering steps and half-hearted parries— it’s a burden you wish he never carried. He bears it with a solemn glint in his eyes and an impeccable posture but he’s not General of the Xianzhou Luofu to you, and so he lets you keep him close whenever he visits your empty home. His appreciation for the comfort goes unsaid, though his shoulders stand inches lower once he sets out the door. After all, he lost her too.

You get déjà vu when Jing Yuan walks across the training yard with a skinny blonde boy in tow and introduces him as his retainer, Yanqing. His apprentice is just as eager and energetic as he was, and it’s easy to fall back into old habits when the boy eventually nags you into sparring with him. He’s talented, determined to achieve his goals, but a little too proud and overconfident. His arrogance reminds you of an old friend who once forged the sword you still wield like an extension of your arm. It’s somewhat endearing, and not entirely unearned. A part of you vaguely recalls the annoyed purse of the Sword Champion’s lips whenever your mutual friend would go on another spiel about mastering the way of the sword. Your fingertips trace the sheath of your blade at the thought.

The Stellaron crisis plunges the Luofu into disarray. It brings destruction and death to the Xianzhou on a scale that reminds you of her, of the illuminated moon in the night sky and the blood on your hands. You can’t allow the memories to paralyze you like they often do, however, so you work with Jing Yuan and the Master Diviner in order to eliminate the internal threat that pose the Disciples of Sanctus Medicus. The Mara-struck fall twice under your steel and the rest of the Abundance’s abominations quickly become light work for someone as experienced as you are. Since the Ambrosial Arbor crisis, they’ve been gathering in Stargazer Navalia the most, forcing an evacuation of all civilians to safer areas of the Luofu.

Though he has plenty of work on his hands, this is where Yanqing likes to disappear for an hour each day— additional training, he says. You trust his abilities, but today he is needed at the Alchemy Commission and is currently unreachable. No one has seen him for a while. You have an idea of his whereabouts, so you offer to look for him and relay the General’s message.

Two Cloud Knights stand guard as you enter Stargazer Navalia. Their posture straightens when they see you and they nod once in greeting.

“Has anyone seen Lieutenant Yanqing come through here, by any chance?”

One of them replies, “He was there an hour ago on an official investigation. Passed through here and went further into the docks.”

You don’t know about any official investigations but you offer a thankful nod anyway before walking past the Knights. The large shipping containers and crates create paths that workers use during the day but you figure it’d be easier to look for Yanqing if you had a better view of the area. You jump on top of a container and carefully skim the place ahead. As expected, abominations and Mara-struck lay on the floor, strewn about like discarded clothing. You follow their trail further inside Stargazer Navalia, between growing starskiffs and through already opened doors. It takes a little over ten minutes to catch up with the freshly cut-down enemies laying about as you hop from container to container. Shards of rock hard ice glimmer in the sun near the bodies, no doubt Yanqing’s doing. Honestly, that boy…

You can see his blonde hair when you advance a little further. He’s turning a corner, so you take a shortcut running above a long, empty container and land on the one behind him with a thud. The sudden noise alerts him and he swirls around with a hand on his sword, ready to attack, but you’re not looking at him. The ghost of a woman long gone stands beside him, her back to you, with a stillness that indicates she’s been aware of you before you made your presence known. The sight of her pale locks burns into your brain. The intricate design of the familiar attire she dons chokes you like firm hands around your throat, and you falter. The blues and whites and reds mix together as you blink to regain your footing.

“Lieutenant!” Yanqing straightens up, sheathing his blade. “What are you doing here?”

You taste ash on the roof of your mouth. Your fingers curl around the handle of your sword. Falling buildings, frozen corpses, sulfur burning your nostrils. Her blade through your stomach. (Hesitant fingertips against your cheeks, implied confessions, oiled palms on tense muscles.) A feeling that has been dormant for centuries stirs in your guts, snakes around your intestines and tightens your stomach. It travels through your ribcage and up your bobbing throat, forcing you to swallow it back down. There’s the slow ascent of the moon behind your eyelids with each blink and the stutter of your chest with each breath— a chill spreads over your limbs and they tense as if frozen in place. It paralyzes you; you feel mocked by the way your feet are glued to the metal under them. You are reminded of your previous weakness, of your blood on the ice and its frigidity seeping into your skin. You grit your teeth.

“Jingliu…” Her name is forced past your lips, evicted after uncomfortably sitting on your tongue for hundreds of years.

She does not move, except for the flicker of recognition that goes through her fingertips. A mirage, she has to be— a nasty trick of your fractured mind because she cannot be here, breathing, when Jing Yuan assured you of her demise.

“Huh? You know her?” Yanqing asks, oblivious to your struggle as he glances back to the woman next to him. His query confirms that she is flesh and blood but leaves no hint as to her state of mind. If she is the same as she was centuries ago, then he and the Luofu are in great danger.

“…Yanqing. The General is looking for you. Alchemy Commission.”

The boy frowns. “Did something happen? There’s something I have to finish up before—“

“Yanqing.”

He stops in his tracks with furrowed brows, displeased at having been interrupted. You finally tear your gaze away from Jingliu’s tense posture to look at him. He sees your hardened eyes and hesitates, turning towards his new acquaintance for a few seconds before clenching his jaw and nodding once. You outrank him, and though it often pains him to do so, Yanqing knows to respect the Cloud Knights hierarchy. He walks away without a word and disappears between the various shipping containers.

You stand above her, a hand on your blade, and breathe in the smell of the docks to loosen the pressure in your guts. It’s the middle of the day, the weather is warm, your skin is uncut. Blurry images of grasping hands sinking into bed sheets and locking lips fill your mind until you can’t see anything but the way her asymmetric bangs frame her face as she hovers over you, breathless. The crimson of her irises are dulled to a lustful cherry and she looks at you like she doesn’t believe you’re real. A fragment of her one-track mind and hateful heart made tangible for one night, to appease the disgusting yearning for closeness that lingers in her bones. She is not a weapon used against the Abundance and you are more than the fellow Cloud Knight that joined the ranks before she was thrusted into them. As her knuckle trails down your cheekbone to the corner of your parted lips, you are a new constant in her future, an immovable force that she cannot plan around, and she is just a woman. Not a survivor, not a fighter, she is a woman who longs for another’s recognition and gentle hands. And as she leans down to graze her bottom lip against your top one, you feel the searing pain of her blade piercing your flesh.

Blood trickles on your tongue and you realize it is from how hard you are biting the inside of your cheek. The visions are gone, replaced by Jingliu turning around to face you, her free hands limp at her sides. Her chin tilts slightly upward. She’s wearing a dark blindfold over her eyes— some part of you is grateful to be hidden from her sight— but you know it wouldn’t alter any of her abilities.

“Lieutenant…” She only says a word, trails off as if it leaves a strange sensation in her mouth. It’s not a question or a tentative statement; she utters your title with an infuriating fondness, like you’re an old friend she hasn’t seen in a while. It makes you sick.

“…You are not dead,” you state blankly.

Jingliu takes a short breath. “Not yet, no.”

There’s a sluggishness to her words and a rasp more prominent than you recall it to be. Her voice is raw and breathy like every sentence comes at a price, and you are reminded of the curse that plagues her. You don’t understand how she’s standing here, seemingly sane, when the Mara had overcome her the last time you laid eyes on her. Still, the hand on your sword tightens its hold. There’s a thousand things you want to ask, a thousand more you wish to convey through touch alone, but you cannot trust her.

You wonder if she remembers almost ending your life. You wonder if she is haunted by regret and grief the same way you are. You wonder if some part of her still clings to that stricken body.

“You can let go of your sword,” Jingliu says, “I mean the Luofu no harm.”

“And me?”

“...You?”

You swallow a lump in your throat. Your toes tingle with sudden restlessness and it thaws the rest of your limbs, allowing you to take a measured step forward. “And me, Jingliu? Will you draw your blade against me once more?”

She is silent for some time, tense, and her fingers slightly curl inward in a momentary loss of composure. You can’t tell if it’s because she doesn’t recall ever doing that or because she does and the thought brings her pain. Finally, she shakes her head.

“You are not my enemy.”

“I wasn’t your enemy back then, was I?”

“…Your trust in me is inconsequential. I came to the Luofu to atone for my sins and surrender myself to the Alliance.”

Your jaw clenches. Past the initial confusion, you feel cheated. Angry. Hundreds of years of broken memories, lasting grief and paralyzing terror have eroded you, flayed you until you are nothing but bones and ligaments. You are walking the earth as less than half a person for no other reason than this is the destiny of all long-life species. Your closest friends have either fallen or withered around you, and that loneliness has debilitated you. How utterly unfair. You have dedicated most of your life to the Xianzhou Alliance and its people, you have been selfless, understanding, devoted, and you are rewarded with injustice. The person who you once called your strength has become the main character in your nightmares, and here she stands, ready to give up the pieces that are left of her to the same people who have ostracized her out of shame for centuries. For all the unbearable pain she caused you, she came back for them. You are the one she has a history with, you are the one whose life is intricately woven with hers. You are who she should be seeking atonement from, not the Ten-Lords Commission and the Arbiter Generals.

You don’t notice how pale your knuckles are from the grip on your weapon or the heaviness of your chest quickening your breath. You stare her down with gritted teeth and Jingliu doesn’t shy away from the growing fury in your gaze.

“Inconsequential,” you repeat in disbelief, your voice a little louder. “Inconsequential, me!”

“This is what I have to do. It is bigger than you, bigger than me.”

You jump down the container to land in front of her. She simply adjusts the inclination of her head.

“Do you remember, Jingliu? What you did to me?”

Her lips form a thin line. Her lack of response angers you further. You unsheath your sword and point the tip to her own weapon resting against her hip, then to her chest.

“Draw it.”

Jingliu makes no move to obey. “I will only unsheath my blade against my enemies, and you are not one of them.”

“You are cursed to forget, but I cannot. It is in every blink, in every pause; the destruction you caused, my—” you swallow, features twisting in a pained grimace, “my blood on your sword.”

Jingliu doesn’t reply, though her fingers twitch with restraint. Her chest rises and falls a beat faster, the only indication that your words are getting to her. You know this is unfair, that you’re only contributing to the injustice you have to face as a long-life species, but anger clouds your judgment and incites this hostile behavior.

“Draw it!” You exclaim in frustration. “Unsheath your blade and face me!”

You lunge forward in an instant, your weapon raised in a practiced arc towards her neck, forcing her to move out of the way. Her body instinctively bends into a defensive stance, but she makes no move to use her sword. You repeat the motion, over and over, and Jingliu evades each strike with an expertise only she possesses. She still refuses to fight you, to revert to the mindless abomination she was that night. You force her into a corner and as your blade descends at an angle to make contact with her bare shoulder, she leaps high over your head and lands gracefully behind you.

“Must we do this?” She sounds mentally exhausted, each word is spoken through pursed lips and a quiver goes through her sword-wielding hand.

You swirl around, molars grinding in anger. “Yes! You have haunted every part of me and replaced every cherished memory in my mind! You are what I see when I lay down at night, standing over me as I choke on my own blood!”

Jingliu brings a clawed hand to her temple and utters, “Enough…”

“You are the face of my nightmares, Jingliu.” Your voice cracks halfway through the sentence. “It ends today.”

When your weapon comes down to strike her this time, its steel meets Jingliu’s specially crafted blade. She uses the momentum of her parry and pushes you back with so much force it sends you flying, your back colliding into the side of a shipping container. You rise to your feet with a shaky breath.

The clash of swords rings in the air as you move between incubating starskiffs and metal crates in an emotional dance. Street lamps fall, stationed starskiffs are cut in two, jade wheels are damaged and incubators break. Jets of their liquid explode everywhere Jingliu returns your strikes with stronger ones, and soon you’re crashing into yet another door. Blood trickles down your nose. There’s a nasty cut on your hip that will require medical attention. You stand, unwavering, and pounce towards the other woman once more. Jingliu grits her teeth as her parry brings your face close to hers. The distinct melody of her blade in movement fills her ears and the ground shakes under her feet. All around you structures are falling, narrowly missing you.

Your muscles strain with exertion but with the feeling comes a strange sort of relief that only intensifies when Jingliu has you pinned to the pavement, swords previously discarded some feet away with an experienced flick of her hand. You’re both breathless for a long moment and for the first time since her reappearance in your life, you don’t taste smoke in the back of your throat.

The pink of her parted lips is the same shade it was almost a millennia ago. The world blurs and you see a flash of a moment long passed of the two of you in the same position; Jingliu’s smug smile hides the sun from view and the bustle of the training yard resumes the minute her victory is announced. When you blink your way back to reality, only a few seconds have gone by. You stare up into the blindfold, chest heaving. Your fingers hesitantly lift to graze the apple of her cheek. One of them slides under her veil and her hand wraps around your wrist to stop you from going further.

Her name is a breathy exhale past your lips. Her shoulders suddenly tense and her head tilts away from you. The moment breaks as she separates from you, rises to her feet and takes a couple steps back. Almost immediately, Cloud Knights rush to the scene in formation, followed closely by the General and his retainer. You let out a sigh, gaze raising to the clear sky. You lose yourself in its endless blue, a heaviness in your chest, until Jing Yuan’s outstretched hand appears in your vision. Jingliu is gone when you accept his help and stand with difficulty, along with Yanqing and the squad of Knights. Jing Yuan wraps a strong arm around your shoulders, steadying you, and you make your way back in silence.

He doesn’t leave your side even as you step into your home and make a beeline for the bathroom. His arms are crossed over his chest and he leans on the doorframe as you rummage through your cupboards for bandages and disinfectant. You find what you’re looking for after a couple minutes and sit on the toilet seat, lifting your armor over your head and discarding the bloodied shirt underneath. The cut on your left hip stings when you gently inspect it. It’s deep enough that it won’t be able to close on its own but not life threatening. You softly apply disinfectant so it doesn’t get infected, clenching your jaw at the pain.

“You should let the Dragon Lady take a look,” Jing Yuan finally speaks up, “or the Alchemy Commission have other experienced healers. They’ll treat you in minutes.”

You almost roll your eyes. You’ve been patching up wounds before he could hold a sword.

“Pass me the stitches.”

He complies, tossing you the plastic box on the counter. You catch it with a hand. Another silence settles between you as you sink the needle into your skin and tighten the thread, occasionally sucking in a breath. The space lingers with tension but neither of you acknowledges it until you break the thread of the stitches and apply a large bandage over the wound. You sigh tiredly and raise your head to meet his guarded gaze.

“Why did you lie, Jing Yuan?”

He takes a moment to reply. There’s a hint of guilt in his golden irises. “…I thought it to be the best course of action at the time.”

You don’t blame him. The days following Jingliu’s departure from the Luofu are a blur, hidden behind a smoke screen so thick you might as well have forgotten them. You only recall the sting in your throat, raw from how much you cried, and the darkness of your bedroom. Jing Yuan was there, as much as he was able to, so he must remember those days better than you; how shattered you were, like fractured shards of glass swept under the carpet. You can’t fault him for wanting to bring you closure.

You rise from your seat and put back the supplies in their rightful place. Jing Yuan steps aside as you walk out the door and watches you disappear in the bedroom for a change of clothes. You grab the first top you see and shrug it on. You don’t bother fixing your hair, you just make your way back to the living area to put on your boots and grab your discarded sword near the door. Jingliu should have been brought to the Shackling Prison after her arrest, so this is where you’ll go.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Jing Yuan says from behind you, making you pause. “We don’t know how stable she is.”

“She seemed stable enough.”

“For now.”

You turn to face him. “Then, why are you here? We both know bars can’t hold her.”

“I wanted to check up on you.”

“...I need to do this.”

Jing Yuan only shuts his eyes in defeat and nods once. He doesn’t follow you when you leave the house and shut the door behind you.

You have no issue getting into the Shackling Prison and acquiring Jingliu’s cell number. It’s not a place you visit often despite your position, the memories it holds have a way of consuming you and leaving you clenching your throbbing head. You navigate its somber hallways and silent cell blocks with an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. Your steps are swift, determined. You don’t stop to think about what you’re going to say once you’re face to face with her again. Jingliu is being held in a special containment chamber only used for dangerous criminals, with two Cloud Knights standing guard in front of the reinforced steel door. They look at each other when you plant yourself before them.

“No one gets in, General’s orders,” one of them says.

Your relationship with Jing Yuan is not a secret and often opens a lot of doors for you but encountering soldiers eager to please is a common occurrence. You have a few dozens under your command, they’re usually easy to deal with. However, the day has been long and you’re lacking the required patience to do so.

“Take it up with Jing Yuan, then.”

You push past them and they hesitate to stop you, glancing at each other. They grip their lances tighter when you open the door but don’t move as you enter the cell and close it after you.

The chamber is big enough to hold a single bed and a toilet in the corner, though its grey walls make it seem smaller than it is. The room would be casted in total darkness if not for the dim glow of the singular lightbulb on the ceiling. Jingliu is seated on the untouched mattress, legs crossed and palms flat on her knees. Her back is straight, her blindfold in place even in the low lighting, and you seem to have caught her in the middle of a meditation. She doesn’t speak as you stand awkwardly near the door, a hand curling around the handle of your sword in search of familiarity.

A couple minutes pass in tense silence with only the gentle buzzing of the electricity crackling through the lightbulb. You take that time to observe Jingliu for any sign of Mara. The even movements of her chest indicate her calm state of mind. Apart from the veil, she looks exactly the same as she did centuries ago; there’s no trace of the curse on her, and you are suddenly reminded of the first time you noticed her— you were the previous Lieutenant’s apprentice and she was a thin, pale girl haunted by nightmares of burning planets and suffocating fumes. That day, she crossed the training yard with a limp and cuts over her body, shattered sword held tight in one hand. You hadn’t gone out onto the field yet, your master didn’t think you were ready, but Jingliu had and you remember thinking that despite her poor state, she must be stronger than you. She would walk back at the end of each day with splintered and bruised skin and you would sneak her a glance, wondering what enemy she could have encountered this time. She was forced to survive and grew on the battlefield long before you did.

While you both learned the way of the sword, you did it to protect and she did it to cut down the object of her nightmares. Together, you climbed the ranks of the Cloud Knights and surpassed your masters. The burden of war brought you closer and your relationship transformed over the centuries; from comrades, to friends, to the one she went to whenever she craved peace from the visions plaguing her, to something more. You are deeply embedded in each other, her life story is yours and your mind is hers. The Mara curse might twist your perceived memories of her but it could never erase the affection you hold for her. It’s precisely because she means so much to you that thoughts of her have been tormenting you so.

Jingliu raises her head in acknowledgement and you’re brought back to the present with a blink.

“Sending you to interrogate me,” she says with a short exhale, words slow and raw, “how cruel.”

“That’s not why I’m here.”

She doesn’t reply, waiting for you to continue. You swallow the emotion in your throat.

“I’m here for closure.”

You take your eyes off her and turn away, facing the blank wall with a hand in your hair. You take in a slow breath and exhale through your mouth as fatigue begins to take over your limbs.

“You don’t get to come back,” you start. “After all those years, you don’t get to reappear and trail all those memories along with you. You said you were seeking atonement from the Alliance. So you remember, then.”

Jingliu is silent for a moment. Your back makes contact with the wall as you sit on the floor with your legs limp before you. You don’t look at her, instead staring at your covered toes.

“…I remember the voices,” Jingliu says softly, “so loud I couldn’t hear anything else. I remember people, the ice… you.” She takes a breath and shakes her head. “I am aware of the hurt I’ve caused, of the sins that cannot be erased. They will follow me until the end, but I cannot let them hold me back.”

“From what?”

“From cutting the heart of a star.”

The turn of phrase transports you back to a drunken evening and Baiheng’s contagious laughter, to the sweet aftertones of fruit in red wine and the flush in Jingliu’s cheeks as she stares at the setting sun. Flashes of that day appear in your mind; Baiheng’s ridiculous dares, your shared competitiveness, Jingliu’s tipsy kisses as consolation prizes. The unexpected memory warms you.

“Revenge, then. Even stricken with Mara, this is what you hold on to.”

“I was never satisfied with letting our enemies come to us.”

That much is true. Jingliu only ever plays the offensive.

Your head turns to face her. “Do you remember us? Even I only recall bits and pieces, now.”

Jingliu’s pointer finger taps her knee for some time. Then her chin tilts to the left, towards you.

“Bits and pieces, yes…” she repeats pensively. You wish you could see the pinch of her eyebrows. “You used to hate losing to me in duels.”

“Of course you’d remember that.”

There’s a hint of a smile on Jingliu’s lips. A light silence descends between you. It’s strange, being in a confined space with someone who you thought long dead; even stranger conversing with Jingliu after everything that went down with Yingxing and Imbibitor Lunae, with Baiheng, and the Luofu’s growth that she didn’t get to witness. You never thought you’d have a chance to see her again, let alone hear her voice speak back to you. Your fingertips twitch with the desire to hold her close.

“I forgot to ask, earlier,” you say, “about the blindfold.”

“It keeps me from seeing that which pulls me under the influence of the Mara. I have pushed past the limits of my mind a long time ago, but… the reprieve it gives me is welcomed.”

“Your will is admirable. Always was.” You think for a few seconds, then speak up hesitantly, “Will my touch be a trigger?”

Jingliu is slow to respond. You see her lips part to let out a sharp exhale and notice the new tension in her shoulders. You feel selfish for needing a semblance of the intimacy you once shared when her mind is so fractured and fickle. The feeling tightens your throat.

“…It shouldn’t.”

Your emotions threaten to consume you as you stand and wipe your palms on your thighs. You take some steps forward, hesitating when you reach the bed. Her head tilts backward as if staring at you through the cloth over her eyes. With a gentleness that surprises even herself, Jingliu uncrosses her legs and outstretches her hand. Your fingertips touch hers and with a flick of her wrist, slowly lace with hers. She pulls you into her, your knees on each side of her hips and your nose in her shoulder; her freezing hands travel over the expanse of your back and her head dips to breathe in the smell of your hair. You pinch your trembling lips and squeeze your eyes shut to keep the tears at bay, but it’s no use when you can feel the empty sockets that loss has dug inside of you over the years fill up with tenderness. A quiver runs through you. You feel Jingliu’s shaky breath near your ear as she pulls you tighter into her. Your arms wrap around her with as much emotion and warm tears roll down your cheeks over her frigid skin. Her touch makes you whole again, if only for a moment— she is tangible against you and not a fragment of the darkest recesses of your mind. It would seem unreal if you couldn’t feel the softness of her flesh beneath your fingertips.

“How lonely you must have been,” Jingliu mutters into your hair. You know she relates.

“I mourned you,” you manage to say, voice tight. “I’ve accepted that you’re gone. I won’t grieve any more.”

“Good. Then allow me a proper goodbye.”

You cry into her for a long time. Jingliu simply holds you closer with a hand on your back and fingers buried in your hair. You won’t see her again, she will be tried and judged on the Xuling and will go back to being a ghost of your past years. You only hope that this time the memories will be softer, full of her touch as she cleans your cuts; the curve of her mouth when you whisper good morning into her shoulder; the exhilarating sensation of her lips on yours after an exhausting day of wielding the sword. She remains your strength even as your tears dampen her clothes, with the scent of her around you and her breath in your ears, you feel strong enough to let her go. You lost her to the curse of the Abundance once, but she won’t slip through your fingers now. Regret and shame fade away, replaced by this new warm memory of you in each other’s arms. Her unnatural coldness expands your heart instead of constricting it and you let go of the collapsed buildings and acrid sulfur in the air; there’s only Jingliu’s lingering fondness and her calloused palms on your body. In this confinement cell, you say goodbye to a part of you.

[cringebuthappy]

Moonscorched Daan

My fantasies about what Daan would look like if Pocketcat hadn't turned him into a furry degenerate. With lore!

Partly this design was inspired by the "Vitruvian man" (here is a reference to Vitruvia, which exists in F&H lore and is responsible for Daan's healing skills), partly by song "Body" by Mother Mother, but mostly by Daan's skills, namely his ability to cut out the organs of defeated enemies, which he has already done to himself with his new hands under the influence of Rher. He also cut off his ordinary arms and legs.

As for the eyes: he plucked out the healthy one, and the one that was under the bandage was a belated gift from Sylvian - Elise's eye, which grew in place of emptiness in response to Daan's efforts to resurrect his lover.

The working name is AUTOPSY. Wanted to call him Harvestman (from harvest an organ), but monster with such name already exists in the first F&H, so I decided to stop at the first option. He is located in the White Mold Apartments near the Sulfur God sigil. A trail of dead Neighbors leads to him.

His attacks:

1. Loving Whispers - heals one of his limbs.

2. Tackle - grabs the character with each free hand, by default - with the bottom two.

3. Medicinal - cures the status effect imposed on him with the appropriate organ. After that, the hand remains empty and joins the base attack.

4. Look of the Beloved - Elise's eye begins to twitch violently and then focuses, increasing the chance of causing critical damage.

5. Magna-medical - coin toss attack. If player loses, Daan tears off the character's limb and uses it to resurrect Neighbor. It joins the battle.

[the-real-housewives-of-waterdeep]

Alchemy 410 Chapter 17. Discussions

Summary: Gale and Illyth discuss Gale’s relationship with Tav — past, present, and future.

Rating: M

Pairing: F!OC x Gale

Tags: Confession, Professor Dekarios, enemies to lovers to enemies to lovers (again), comfort/hurt

Word Count: 1.2k

Read chapters 1-15 here!

Gale’s bedroom was bathed in soft morning sunlight. Illyth grumbled softly and opened her eyes, squinting against the light. She rolled onto her back, expecting to feel Gale beside her but found his side of the bed empty. Illyth sat up and glanced around the room, expecting Gale to lean out of the bathroom and rejoin her in bed. Instead, she was entirely alone, save for Gale’s tunic, which was draped over a side chair.

Illyth pushed the heavy blankets off of her and swung her legs over the edge of the plush, feather bed. Beneath the bed was a dense, low pile rug, likely of Dambrathian extraction with its dark and elaborate designs. Illyth pulled Gale’s tunic on and shuffled across the room towards the hallway.

There were only two other places Gale could be in the tower — his library or the kitchen. Illyth couldn’t hear Gale humming absentmindedly above the sounds of a frying pan, so she surmised that he was likely reading on the balcony, as he often did in the mornings and evenings.

The heavy wooden door to the library was ajar and Illyth could hear the sound of seabirds in the bay. She was met with a cool sea breeze as she opened the door and she could see Gale sitting on the balcony, just as she expected.

“You’re up early,” she remarked as she walked across the room to him, floorboards creaking beneath her feet. Gale startled and peered at her over the piece of parchment in his hand.

Gale cleared his throat. “Illyth, you startled me,” he replied sheepishly. “I did not realize you were awake yet.” He stood and crossed the room to meet her midway, planting a chaste kiss on her lips. “I would have made coffee for us but time slipped away from me, as it is wont to do.”

Illyth glanced down at the parchment in Gale’s hand, pinched between his thumb and index fingers. It was lightly singed and smelled of sulfur. She could barely make out the sender’s name — To Gale, from Tav.

Tav… Gale had mentioned Tav before in passing, another hero of the Sword Coast whom he fought alongside in the battle against the Elderbrain. When he mentioned them, his eyes took on a far-away look that belied a painful memory.

“Letter from Tav?” Illyth asked, locking eyes with Gale once more. There was no bitterness or jealousy in her voice; simply curiosity.

Gale’s eyes widened and his neck and cheeks reddened with embarrassment. “I-“ He sighed. “I suppose I must address the hollyphant in the room.” Gale gestured to the armchairs beside the fire. “I owe you an explanation, Illy.”

Illyth sat down slowly. She was tempted to tell Gale that he owed her no explanation and that she had overstepped, but she couldn’t deny her curiosity. Who exactly was Tav and why did the mention of them trigger such a response for Gale?

Gale looked into the darkened hearth and pursed his lips as he collected his thoughts. How could he encapsulate the short but beautiful love that he and Tav shared? How could he explain its context and why things ended how they did? It would be imperfect, but Gale owed Illyth the truth.

“After Mystra, I was alone for so long. I cut myself off from the world, sequestered myself in the tower for the safety of others. When I met Tav, it was as if I could see the world in full color once again.”

“Tav was-“ Gale closed his eyes momentarily before continuing. “Tav was everything to me. With them, the love I had for Mystra paled in comparison. It was but a shadow in the face of the brightest sun ray; a pebble in the depths of the Chionthar.”

“When I thought all was lost, they guided me. When I reached for the Crown of Karsus, seductive though its power was, our bond stayed my hand. I could not forsake them. Not when they saved my life over and over again in countless ways.”

“When our dear comrade Karlach’s infernal heart overheated, engulfing her in flames, Tav stood by her when she returned to Avernus. Tav made a brave, honorable choice befitting of them. To insist upon my own desire for them to stay by my side and return home would be a selfish act.”

Gale held up the singed letter. “I received this letter from them today. They posted it many months ago, but as you can imagine, the postal service between Avernus and Waterdeep is quite slow. Mephits aren’t reliable mail carriers, as you can imagine.”

“They’re doing well. They may have discovered a way to repair Karlach’s heart, but they also reiterated that they have no plans to return from the Hells. The love Tav and I shared is long gone. I still cherish them as a friend, but-“

Gale turned his attention to Illyth, who stared into the middle distance, her eyes fixed to the horizon. It was beginning to make sense to her. Illyth felt a pang of betrayal which gave way to a dulled sense of sadness. Gale withheld this information from her, but the sorrow he felt as he spoke of Tav washed over her. It felt as though Tav was now in the room with them, looming large; perhaps, they were always there, in a way. It was no wonder to Illyth that Gale did not wish to speak of it.

Gale looked at Illyth, waiting anxiously for her to speak. “I understand if this revelation is a betrayal of your trust in me as a partner and I will respect your decision to leave this partnership, if you so choose.”

“Do you miss them?” Illyth asked finally. Her eyes remained locked on the horizon. “Tav, I mean.”

Gale paused thoughtfully. There were countless ways to answer that question. Did he miss Tav? Did he miss waking up beside them? Did he miss their quirks, the way they held their knife, the way they said good morning, or the way they snored at night? Did he pine over them? Did he miss their crooked smile?

Gale gathered his thoughts before speaking. He had to tread carefully. “I miss them the way one might miss a place they once loved or experience nostalgia over a pleasant memory. I miss particular things about Tav, certainly, but-“ Gale cupped Illyth’s cheek. “I would never trade what we share to be with Tav once more.”

“Look at me, Illyth,” Gale insisted. His voice carried a pleading quality to it, as if he feared Illyth would run from him or suddenly vanish into thin air. As Illyth slowly shifted her gaze to meet his, Gale took ahold of her hand. “Illyth, I love you.” Gale’s voice trembled uncharacteristically as he confessed his feelings for Illyth, his one-time rival and the love of his life.

“Do you always confess your feelings to people when you talk about your former lovers?” Illyth replied wryly.

Gale huffed and rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Illy, please.”

“Alright, alright,” Illyth replied with a smirk. She took a beat as her smirk shifted to a warm and affectionate smile. “I love you too, Gale. Always have, always will.”

[delicatefade]

Reunited in a downpour

OC Kiss Week Day 2: rain 🌧

Fandom: Dragon Age Inquisition Context for readers outside fandom: The portal referenced in the snippet sent Lex straight to a nightmare realm! It's not good! Word Count: 732 Bonus Track:

To leave this place was to concede that he was lost to her forever. Six days ago Eilan’s lover fell into a rift in the sky and never came back. She was told it had happened fast. A battle at a fort. A dragon. A collapsed wall. He, along with five others, fell into a portal to the fade. And that was it. That was all they knew. At first his advisers had kept the faith with her. He lived, they told each other, he must live. His advisers, leaders of this upstart Andrastian army, believed the Inquisitor must live because of divine providence. He was the Herald of Andraste, an avatar of their prophet’s will incarnate, and thus he could not die. To Eilan, he was Lex, her fate. If he died, what did that mean for her? There was no life without him, and yet she lived and so must he. The advisers’ faith waned with each passing day. Eilan told herself that hers did not. Though it had become brittle, that much she could admit.

She sat at the edge of a wide, high-pitched tent. Her attention flitted between the portal that had taken Lex, still visible in the distance near the fort, and the soldiers who packed up the Inquisition’s military outpost. They had begun at dawn despite the deluge of rain. It had been raining for days, a portent the army’s mages misinterpreted as a sign of calamity. Eilan knew better. The rain was fat and heavy, like the rain of spring. To her it symbolized hope. The army’s mages had dismissed her interpretation as either the grief-desperate yearnings of a girl, or Dalish hogwash. The soldiers slipped in the mud. Crates slid out of reach. Horses were stubborn. The men and women of the Inquisition had won the battle that swallowed their Inquisitor — her Lex, gods, he was so beautiful, so bright. Is, she reminded herself, he still is. But yes, the army had won at a cost too high. One in three soldiers had died. Those who survived would live forever with haunting wounds. But two in three survived. The odds were good, perhaps even applicable to those who fell in portals. She stared at it, unblinking, willing Lex’s return. “Eilan.” Commander Cullen spoke her name with compassion as he stepped into her field of view. She looked past his shoulder. Yesterday he had told her to pack up the contents of the Inquisitor’s tent. She had not. “The Inquisition must move on. We are all heart-broken by the loss of the Inquisitor, though I do not pretend any of us can begin to understand your grief.” His eyes were red and inflamed, evidence that he spoke true about his feelings on the matter. He was also correct that none could understand hers. Something dark fell from the mouth of the portal. Then four more dark things. Eilan got up and pushed past Cullen, darting out into the cold rain. The mud was slick beneath her feet. She scrambled towards the fort. “Eilan!” Cullen called after her. “He’s here,” she cried back. Saying it aloud made her heart thump in her ears. She felt light-headed, reality slipped. Near the rift, lights flashed, a battle. Was it him and the others fighting through the demons that lurked near every rift? It had to be. As she reached the entrance to the fort, Lex. He stepped out into the muddy field, already soaked through. A flash of recognition, then blubbering, sobbing cries, his and hers. They ran to each other. Her cheek slid against his. His hand gripped her back, his fingers dug in. She trembled, so did he. He smelled of sulfur and something astringent. She whimpered as she touched his face, saw him in blurry glimpses. A smear of blood on his forehead. Patches of soot on his skin. His armor broken at the shoulder. One arm held against his ribs in pain. They kissed desperately between sobs, lips blue and teeth chattering. The water on her face was cold and hot in peels, a mix of rain and tears. She sobbed his name. Oh gods. He said he’s here, he’s here, it’s okay. His hand cradled her head against him. It shook and shook. They kissed again and again, could not stop crying, mewling and fumbling for each other, those poor and keening souls.

---- This is a moment I've not yet reached in my Lex/Eilan story. It was a treat to write it early! Eilan is my OC and Lex belongs to @bluewren Want to follow their story? Start here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52434187/chapters/132646609

[magicalgirlagency]

And now, for the opposite: which ones are your MOST faves?

Hanadera "Cure Grace" Nodoka (I have several fave Cures in rotation, but this one's ULTRA special to me);

Luz Noceda;

Eclipsa Butterfly (she actually had a child with a giant monster king; I have nothing but immense respect for her);

Garnet (+ Amethyst, Bismuth, Peridot, Spinel, any other Gem character that deserved better);

Adrien "Chat Noir" Agreste (I know he's not the best, but he's treated like garbage by the writers, and I gravitate towards the underdog, or rather, the underCAT);

Twilight Sparkle (+ Pinkie Pie, Sunset Shimmer);

Harukaze Doremi (+ Fujiwara Hazuki);

Tsukino "Sailor Moon" Usagi (+ Kino "Sailor Jupiter" Makoto);

Kisaragi "Cutey Honey" Honey (specially her Re:Cutey Honey incarnation);

Princess Peach (she totally counts, speacially after Princess Peach Showtime!);

Stella;

Bee;

Fionna Campbell;

Marcy Wu;

Auriana;

Bubbles Utonium (+ her anime self, Gotokuji "Rolling Bubbles" Miyako);

Bu Ling "Mew Pudding" Huang;

Tomoe Mami (+ Miki Sayaka and Kaname Madoka);

Tenkawa "Magia Sulfur" Kaoruko (would like her a lot more if the series wasn't like THAT);

Kagari "Akko" Atsuko;

Hakone "Battle Lover Scarlet" Yumoto (deserved to be in a better anime series, one that doesn't fetshizes mlm and boys in general).

And that's all the faves I could pull out from memory.

[magical-boy-bracket]

Finally, it's here! The Magical Boy Bracket round 1! Polls will start being posted hopefully some time this week, with one post every 5 minutes.

Polls will last one week. Any losers for this round will be sent to the losers bracket the week after.

Please be reminded of this very important rule when reblogging or commenting on posts: "Don't be an asshole to me or to anyone else in this tournament, and please no excessive hate towards a specific character or source material. Otherwise, you will be blocked."

Text version for easier understanding under the cut! Has full names of characters, alter ego names where it applies, as well as source titles! (Some longer titles are shown in full the first time they appear, but are then shortened the in their next appearances (which will also be done for the polls). Also, please let me know if I wrote any names or titles wrong.)

Top left (matches 1 - 16):

Akito Hibino / Lofty Purple (Bokura wa Mahou Shounen) VS Aoi Shibuya (Tokyo Mew Mew Ole)

Hojo Omamori (Fairy Ranmaru: Anata no Kokoro Otasuke Shimasu) VS Kazuki Yasaka (Sarazanmai)

Ikuto Tsukiyomi (Shugo Chara) VS Nagihiko Fujisaki (Shugo Chara)

Masayoshi Hazama / Samurai Flamenco (Samurai Flamenco) VS Natsuki Nanahoshi (Mahou Shounen Natsuki x Loveits)

Jake Long (American Dragon Jake Long) VS Ren Amamiya / Joker (Persona 5)

Idia Shroud (Twisted Wonderland) VS Tsuyoshi Kijino / Kijibrother (Avataro Sentai Donbrothers)

Kaito Hinomiya (Dear my Magial Boys) VS Kikyou / Fragrant Rose (Magical Boy Troubles)

Sougo Tokiwa / Kamen Rider Zi-O (Kamen Rider Zi-O) VS Alice "Azz" Asmodeus (Welcome to Demon School! Iruma-kun)

Asahi Minamikawa (Mewkledreamy) VS Kaito Odagiri / Thrilling Pink (Bokura wa Mahou Shounen)

Chrono Harlaown (Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha) VS Erio Mondial (Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha StrikerS)

Jotaro Kujo (JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Stardust Crusaders) VS Chiaki Nagoya / Kaitou Sinbad (Kamikaze Kaitou Jeanne)

Kairi Sanjo (Shugo Chara) VS Tadase Hotori (Shugo Chara)

Mahad / Dark Magician (Yu-Gi-Oh) VS Mem Mem (Delicious Party Precure)

Andromeda Shun (Saint Seiya) VS Pegasus Seiya (Saint Seiya)

Orion Eden (Saint Seiya Omega) VS Shuu Rei Fuan (Yoroiden Samurai Troopers)

Vanitas (Vanitas no Carte) VS Ben Tennyson (Ben 10)

Top Right (matches 17 - 32):

Akihiko Beppu / Melty Luna (Binan Koukou Chikyuu Bouei-bu Love!) VS Akoya Gero / Chevalier Perlite (Boueibu)

Atsushi Kinugawa / Battle Lover Epinard (Boueibu) VS En Yufuin / Battle Lover Cerulean (Boueibu)

Gora Hakone / Maximum Gorar (Boueibu) VS Haruhiko Beppu / Salty Sol (Boueibu)

Ibushi Arima / Chevalier Argent (Boueibu) VS Io Naruko / Battle Lover Sulfur (Boueibu)

Ryuu Zaou / Battle Lover Vesta (Boueibu) VS Furanui de Shakin Honyalala (Binan Koukou Chikyuu Bouei-bu Happy Kiss)

Ichiro Dougo / Spazio Kiss (Boueibu HK) VS Karurusu de Yutari Honyalala (Boueibu HK)

Kyotarou Shuzenji / Fiore Kiss (Boueibu HK) VS Maasa Shirahone / Ritter Amethyst (Boueibu HK)

Nanao Wakura / Luna Kiss (Boueibu HK) VS Ryouma Kirishima / Stella Kiss (Boueibu HK)

Taiju Unazuki / Ritter Rosenquartz (Boueibu HK) VS Taishi Manza / Neve Kiss (Boueibu HK)

Callum (The Dragon Prince) VS Danny Fenton / Danny Phantom (Danny Phantom)

Chris Kratt (Wild Kratts) VS Martin Kratt (Wild Kratts)

Farran (Lego Elves) VS Gus Porter (The Owl House)

Guy Hamdon / SheZow (SheZow) VS Sinedd (Galacktik Football)

Prince Adam / He-Man (He-Man) VS Jack Frost (Rise of the Guardians)

Lloyd Montgomery Garmadon (Lego Ninjago) VS Mephisto (Lolirock)

Sulfus (Angel's Friends) VS Zuko (Avatar: The Last Airbender)

Bottom Left (matches 33 - 48):

Link (The Legend of Zelda: Tears of The Kingdom) VS Lucas (Mother 3)

Arthur Aguefort (Dimension 20: Fantasy High) VS Evan Kelmp (Dimension 20: Misfits and Magic)

Whitney Jammer (Dimension 20: Misfits and Magic) VS Kingston Brown (Dimension 20: The Unsleeping City)

Billy Batson / Shazam (DC Comics) VS Carter Kane (The Kane Chronicles)

Nico di Angelo (The Heroes of Olympus) VS Perseus Jackson (Percy Jackson and the Olympians)

Anselmo Flores / White Knight Heather (Dame Daffodil) VS Basil Caraway (Magical Boy Basil)

Reo Menezes (Majestikal Mistake) VS Sage (Strawberry Seafoam)

Sara / Adora Flora (Magical Mom) VS Kento Fukamiya / Kamen Rider Espada (Kamen Rider Saber)

Hikaru / Holy Saint Sungel (Mahou Sentai Magiranger) VS Kai Ozu / MagiRed (Mahou Sentai Magiranger)

Makito Ozu / MagiGreen (Mahou Sentai Magiranger) VS Xander Bly / Green Mystic Ranger (Power Rangers Mystic Force)

Tsubasa Ozu / MagiYellow (Mahou Sentai Magiranger) VS Chip Thorn / Yellow Mystic Ranger (Power Rangers Mystic Force)

Juuru Atsuta / Kiramai Red (Mashin Sentai Kiramager) VS Lucky / Shishi Red (Uchuu Sentai Kyuranger)

Kaito Goshikida / Zenkaizer (Kikai Sentai Zenkaiger) VS Stacey / Stacaesar (Kikai Sentai Zenkaiger)

Sonoi (Avataro Sentai Donbrothers) VS Antonio Garcia / Golden Power Ranger (Power Rangers: Samurai)

Anakin Skywalker / Darth Vader (Star Wars) VS Mamoru Chiba / Tuxedo Mask (Sailor Moon)

Ata Ibusuki / Ritter Diamant (Boueibu HK) VS Blue Knight (Tokyo Mew Mew)

Bottom Right (matched 49 - 64)

Homura Hoterase (Fairy Ranmaru) VS Jyuuka Mutsuoka (Fairy Ranmaru)

Ranmaru Ai (Fairy Ranmaru) VS Sirius Tenroin (Fairy Ranmaru)

Takara Utashiro (Fairy Ranmaru) VS Kukai Soma (Shugo Chara)

Shigeo Kageyama "Mob" (Mob Psycho 100) VS Ezra Bridger (Star Wars: Rebels)

Magnus Chase (Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard) VS Gentarou Kisaragi / Kamen Rider Fourze (Kamen Rider Fourze)

Kosuke Nitoh / Kamen Rider Beast (Kamen Rider Wizard) VS Ryotaro Nogami / Kamen Rider Den-O (Kamen Rider Den-O)

Tetsuo Daishinji / Kamen Rider Slash (Kamen Rider Saber) VS Touma Kamiyama / Kamen Rider Saber (Kamen Rider Saber)

Merlin (Merlin) VS John Constantine (DC Comics)

Yumoto Hakone / Battle Lover Scarlet (Boueibu) VS Kinshiro Kusatsu / Chevalier Aurite (Boueibu)

Uruu Seiren (Fairy Ranmaru) VS Adrien Agreste / Chat Noir (Miraculous Ladybug)

Yakumo Katou / AoNinja (Shuriken Sentai Ninninger) VS Liam Farrow / Emerald Heart (Magical Warrior: Diamond Heart)

Henri Wakamiya / Cure Infini (HUGtto Precure) VS Pikario / Rio Kuroki (Kira Kira Precure A La Mode)

Takumi Shinada / Black Pepper (Delicious Party Precure) VS Steven Universe (Steven Universe)

Alex Harvey-Iniguez / Garnet Heart (Magical Warrior: Diamond Heart) VS Max Owen (Magical Boy)

Kouta Kazuraba / Kamen Rider Gaim (Kamen Rider Gaim) VS Haruto Soma / Kamen Rider Wizard (Kamen Rider Wizard)

Syaoran Li (Cardcaptor Sakura) VS Tsubasa Yuunagi / Cure Wing (Hirogaru Sky Precure)

[pinkprettycure]

every once in a while i think abt this character bc his magical boy form is battle lover sulfur and sulfur is known for being Stinky

[magicalgirlsandcerulean]

More famous scenes from the Love Macho X account. (Sulfur: "Well, I'll do it too. Added Margin Bomber!!" | Vesta: "That's unfair. I was first! Ore-sama Fire!!")

[hellohimawarihana]

Binan Koukou iconic moments from Love Macho Twitter. (Transformation Sequence)

[dmagedgoods]

Did I already send you something for the new kiss prompts? I can't remember...if I haven't, how about "holding your lover by the jaw to kiss them" for Sal and Daeran, of course 💕

The terrible orchestra of the battlefield seemed to swell and penetrated his every sense. – The smell of metal and sulfur and blood, the view of entangled bodies and deformed atrocities, the screech of steel and claws, the crackling and whirring of magic, screams, and shouts, his own orders mixing in the chaos.

He focused to summon more celestial support, tried to stay in control over the dense mass of fighters. It was he who conducted the details of it all. He gritted his teeth and blocked a powerful strike of a Glabrezu close to him with his sword. “Woljif, the opening! To your left,” he yelled.

Immediately, the tiefling obeyed, smoothly escaping the attack of a spear.

Once more, the Glabrezu tried to hit him, surprisingly fast for a creature of his size. Salvadore dodged and channeled holy light to burn a Babau to ashes and relax the situation for Regill at the front. Arueshalae’s sharp arrow got rid of another while the Devas distracted a second Glabrezu and …

The next hit caused him to stumble, a sharp pain shot through his body, radiating from his stomach. The chela of the creature had left a deep wound. Warm red blood drenched the white of his uniform. He turned around in a sharp movement, raised his sword, but the next attack came too fast.

No, he wouldn’t … The pain clouded his senses and he sank to his knees. The others needed his instructions, needed the Devas he had summoned, he could not … The giant chela aimed for his chest, a cry echoed through his head, his name in a deeply familiar voice distorted by panic, then his vision faded to black.

-

Soft … There was something soft underneath his body and supporting his head. The noise of the battle had stopped and the peaceful burbling of near water seemed surreal to his overwrought and heavy mind.

He opened his eyes and was greeted with the worried gaze of the man kneeling beside him.

“This was a remarkable display of hubris again.” The sharpness of his voice lacked every condescending tone. Instead, it was filled with undisguised concern and hard reproach.

“I redirected their efforts. It’s my duty to control the battlefield.” He forced himself to sit up. His muscles burned with the echo of overexertion and a dull ache radiated from his stomach where Daeran had healed his wound.

“While neglecting the fact that this oversized monstrosity was attacking you?”

Salvadore managed a strained smile. “That’s what I have my healer for.”

“I almost didn’t make it in time.” He was surprised by the grave intensity of his answer. Even the last hint of playfulness had gotten replaced by cold fear.

His own features softened while a deep warmth ran through every sore fiber of his body and far beyond.

In a gentle gesture, he reached out for Daeran’s face and leaned closer. He half-heartedly tried to escape the kiss, but he held him in place by his jaw and caught his lips with tender passion. It took only a second and he gave into his touch, almost harshly so, taking the lead by digging his fingers into the remains of his uniform and pulling him close. There was a fierce urgency in the way he pressed his lips against his. When he eventually spoke again, he barely widened the distance, muttering the words against his mouth:

“Don’t,” he demanded, “Don’t leave me like this.”

“I won’t.” His throat felt tight. “I promise.”

Daeran stayed within the moment of closeness for a heartbeat longer, then he let go of him as if nothing had happened. Now his expression appeared unimpressed when he looked around the quiet empty clearing between leafless trees.

“The others should be back with firewood soon. Woljif makes sure there aren’t any more of those ugly creatures near our camping ground. We will rest here and continue this bothersome march in the morning.”

Salvadore smirked in amusement. “Taking charge, Count Arendae?”

He gave a theatrical sigh and raised a brow. “To my immense displeasure, I’m left with no choice. Our commander decided to act like a fool and therefore was suspended for the day by his second-in-command, Field Attaché and exceedingly capable healer.”

[miss-madness67]

Chapter 20: Happy Endings are Overrated 

The Walking Demons chapter

Supernatural & The Walking Dead

Sam Winchester Fic

To say that you’re nervous is an understatement. The compound where Lucifer is hiding looks ominous as you stare at it in the distance. There’s a distinctive smell of sulfur in the air that signals the presence of demons. You cannot guess how many because there’s no one in sight, but if you can smell them from afar, then they’re definitely not just a couple. If you create a distraction, then all the demons would be directed to that place, and they would leave Lucifer on his own. In order to do that, everyone had to gear up for the occasion with anti-possession tattoos. It was hard to find tattooing ink on such short notice, so Castiel got it up on himself to mark everyone, even if they were not fighting. When your turn came, you can safely say that it hurt like a bitch. Nevertheless, it was a necessary thing to do for the upcoming battle. You cannot afford to lose one of yours by possession. Another improvement that you decided upon is the use of branded bullets. Before dying, Eugene came up with the idea of drawing tiny devil traps on the side of the projectiles. His theory was that it would allow you to keep the demons inside their vessels as long as the bullet remained in the body. You have yet to test that theory, but it makes sense. 

Continue reading on:

AO3 / PA / WAT

Tags: @winifrede @doctorlilo @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @hobby27

[endthestarlight]

Brainrotting about student council member Io because episode 6 has ruined my life,

but isn't it interesting that out of all the Battle Lovers, only Io has an alias that fits the Caerula Adamas' naming convention based on minerals?

For the Battle Lovers we've got:

Scarlet and Cerulean named after colors,

Our beloved spinach boy Epinard,

Vesta (named after a Roman goddess of all things, I have an entire thing to say about that but not here),

and Sulfur.

While the Caerula Adamas has:

Aurite (gold),

Argent (silver),

and Perlite (the show likes to use pearls for his visuals instead of actual perlite, but either way, it still fits).

Laying it out like that, I would say the name Sulfur actually fits better with the Conquest Club than it does with the Defense Club, though admittedly the latter's naming convention is rather all over the place.

Actually, I find it funny that in the Conquest Club, Sulfur as a name fits better than Perlite does despite Perlite being part of the original group. Think about it, if in this hypothetical scenario where Io did actually pull through on the whole betrayal arc and becomes Chevalier Sulfur or whatever, their individual names would be:

Chevalier Aurite (Au), Chevalier Argent (Ag), Chevalier Perlite, and Chevalier Sulfur (S)

See which one of them doesn't fit? That's right, it's Perlite! Sorry Akoya, you should grab yourself a new name from the periodic table, then you can come back to the club.

Jokes aside, I just wonder how on purpose this was. They did tease the concept of Io being a turncoat in episode 6 after all, and consequently gave me permanent brain damage all these years later.

Io: Money doesn't betray.

Ryuu: But you do?!

Like come on, as if my gay brain was going to let all that angst potential go just like that. And the fact that the narcissist Akoya saw Io as fit enough to join the student council despite clearly seeing the Defense Club as beneath him shows that Io has the potential for... well, something. What that something is I don't know yet, but clearly he has enough of a 'dark side' to consider abandoning his friends for money, even if he did turn back on that decision in the show proper.

That, or Akoya is just hella gay for Io and wanted him to spend more time with him instead of Ryuu.

My money is on both ;)

— end☆

[toussainttwins]

Send my muse a 💋 and they'll talk about a lover WITHOUT mentioning a name! #1 “He is not a knight, but no less chivalrous and brave he is, this dear sangbonbon of mine. I am not telling his moniker to you, for he positively insists it to remain uttered only between him and his pretty succubus. Who am I to deny a sweet taste of a secret? 

Ah, I got turned in my thoughts! He is as courageous as the heroes of old! And remained true to me, even when his life and honour were at stake! You see, I’ve embroidered a special little gift to lure sweet dreams for him, when I was not in his bed. A pillow. Yet no matter how much perfume and herbs I stuffed into it, a tale-telling tiny trail of sulfur remained. Clear as a day, if a hunter is keen on its prey. 

Knowing this, my faithful beloved kept the love token at its usual place. In his public chamber, where it cheered his eyes even during the daytime (he oft said that going to work everyday is alike going to battle, and my pillow is his chivalric charm). Even when our wronged Duchess came visiting, looking for some mysterious and vile horned sister of ours that supposedly terrorized our fair Beauclair. Nor I, nor my lambkin have ever met that wayward athumica. Greedy we are not, but we feel very strongly that it is rude to terrorize anyone. No matter how many delicious sangbonbons you may meet in the capital!” #2 This sangbonbon is my mirth. We both fare from the same place, you might say. Understanding between our hearts rings true, as an oriole’s song - pure, liquid and silky. Still, the path to our love was thorny, threaded with danger at every step. Ah, such an adventure it was! His smart choice of cloth makes many a beauclarian maiden sigh, even if they are slightly covered with hair of certain beasts.  There is one in his life that overshadows our joy. But I am a fair succubus, I shall never, never! aim to devour the other joy of his heart.  #3 We have met as many meet their true paramours. In a dream. Well, I saw him dreaming and then dreamed of him for hours at no end. Sometimes even 3 hours in a row! He has enchanted me with his unconventional way and a flamboyant attire, that his eyes and curls fit perfectly. Besides, we share a taste for things gritty, brave and sharp. Such can oft break one’s heart.  #4 My beloved has a tight smile and a raw glint in his eyes. Ah, his herbaceous ways that linger upon my lips long after he is gone. And he is gone too often for my taste! I loathe to think that his hands might caress another’s horns, arranging the hair of another into one of his crafty creations, brushing his beauteous muttonchops against the cheek more velvety than mine. I am not jealous, ah, I am not! His devotion to me and my lambkin is true, for he was a rare one who guessed our little double trick and kept it safe. Even from his dear friends and companions.