#centinelle

[glacias-transformers-blog]

I should have gone to sleep two hours ago but I had to make this because it was funny as shit to my sleep deprived mind.

[naavispider]

I just started reading your fic and I'm impressed with how much dimension you've given the Avatar landscape.

Though we know Quaritch and Spider won't grow very close -- the movie ending still being what it is and their relationship being a "one step forward, two back" type thing -- I was thinking over a suitable prompt since you asked for ideas. Very cool of you, by the way :)

I could be that affection's not gonna work between these two, so realistically, Quaritch could play a distant but steadfast sentinel. He mentioned wanting to "protect" Spider, so on the periphery of Spider's awareness, he notices Quaritch building canopies to keep Spider safe from the rain, or him leaving out meals for Spider, Quaritch encouraging Cupcake to bond with him so that he may feel he has his own Ikran.

Anyway, I look forward to your future writing! Thank you for sharing your creativity the way you have! ❤️

Thank you! I've had at least 3 open tabs for the avatar wiki on my laptop so I can check things/get names for plants etc.

I LOVE the idea of Quaritch doing little 'domestic' things for Spider in the forest, maybe there's a really bad storm one night and the recoms are trying to build a shelter and Quaritch notices that Spider is of course left out in the pouring rain, so either brings him into theirs or starts putting up some tarpaulin over Spider 😭

Thank you for the ideas, I love all of them!

[mooyuringwaves]

Things that I find interesting in Wuthering Waves.

The character tacet mark moves and gets bigger when resonance liberation is ready.

Characters look around when sitting.

Rover gets dizzy using Havoc because is the most self damaging element, the same happens with Dajin, but she loses hp.

Some NPC soldiers can be called to help you or you can follow them, the things that they kill will be transferred to you. Also if they die, they will not reset unless you log again, in lore they’re dead and a new soldier is replacing them.

NPCs will salute you if they’re guarding the entrance of military bases.

Is implied that Rover visited Solaris-3 at least 3 times, one time saving Huanglong, an unknown time and the actual one.

When Sanhua sees the frequencies in normal resonators she sees their overclocked form. Only the ones linked to the centinels and Rover look normal.

The 1.0 Jinzhou city is not the capital of Huanglong, the country has 5 cities. Jinhsi was visiting the capital during the 3 days break. Also Huanglong is not the only country.

In the south part of the map players will find more scientists, travelers and Exiles and in the north players will find more TD's and more Fractidus.

This is because the military base at Desorock Highland and the military force of Jinzhou work as a barrier of the Threnodian advance. Jinzhou is the bordering city.

Yangyang got feathers in her hair because she overcloked, she is very sensitive to the frequencies of the wind and air so she can “read the wind”.

Genshu Lin was the one that stopped alone the first formation of the Threnodian embodiment of War.

[bestworstcase]

+ the lady just wiped two kingdoms off the map in the space of, like, maybe a month?, with the second being a few weeks at most after oscar and ozma atomized her vast fleet of zillions of grimm. in atlas she ripped open the continent to draw up a literal river of grimm from the core of the planet without any apparent effort at all, and spent hours spawning hundreds of grimm per second again without any apparent effort.

ozma has successfully kept this woman's existence a secret for thousands of years.

i, uh, do not believe he could have accomplished that if salem was exerting even a FRACTION of the effort she is now to fuck with him, as opposed to letting him self-destruct over and over again out of paranoia and dishonesty. y'know, "and when it turns out to be yet another routine patrol, it'll be 'i always preferred discretion!'" & all.

leans out a window. it is not salem’s fault that oz uses child soldiers to guard his fortresses. it’s not her fault that he made a deliberate strategic choice to recruit children into a war they didn’t even know they’re fighting. (and it certainly isn’t her fault that he’s been getting kids killed in training for decades before she made her first move!)

he has been trying to destroy her for thousands of years while salem lived in exile, not fighting back, until one of those grown-up child soldiers found out the truth and gave her something to fight for. if your defenders are all children because you set up your fortresses to masquerade as schools, if you for decades continually made the choice to use children as unwitting human shields then you don’t get to blame the enemy when children die on the front lines. YOU PUT THEM THERE.

[ltwilliammowett]

Ship advertisements in: The Columbian Centinel, Boston, 1799

via Ebay

[nomie-11]

Chapter 12 - Above the Clouds, Beneath the Earth

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The sky was still dark, still full of stars, when Genevieve woke up in the morning. Tairn had promised her an early morning flight, so she could see the sunrise from his back, above the clouds and mountains. She made sure to be quiet as she snuck out of her room, her steps light as she opened the door. 

“AH!” She yelped, jumping out of her skin when she opened the now locked door to her bedroom, just to find Liam sitting outside of the door. “What in Gods’ name are you doing outside my door!? Isn’t your room right next to mine?” 

But clearly Xaden had other plans for her. 

“Xaden wants a centinel outside your door at night until he can trust that you actually lock your doors, so here I am,” Liam shrugged, stretching the stiffness and sleep out of his body. “Garrick, Bodhi, Xaden, and I, all take shifts,” He paused, looking up at Genevieve in the doorway. “Do you think Violet will like this figurine I made of Astrape?”

The little wooden figurine in his palm was adorable, but Genevieve was too focused on the fact that she had a guard now. 

“This is insanity, go back to your room,” Genevieve started, her tone final, but Liam didn’t move. “I don’t need a guard sitting outside of my room at night. We’ve already discovered that I can handle myself.”

“Don’t shoot the messenger,” Liam says, his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m just here because Xaden asked me to. If anything, shoot Xaden.” 

“I’m not going to shoot Xaden or you,” she groaned, running a hand over her face. It’s too cold outside to be thinking harder than with slight reasoning, and all she wanted was to go outside and ride her dragon into the sunrise, but no. “Can you just let me go outside now?”

Liam laughed, his voice light as he stood up. 

“Alright, alright,” He said, moving away from her doorway. “But I’m coming with you.”

“What? Why?” Genevieve asked, exasperated by the circumstances. “I’ll be with Tairn. I won’t die.”

“I have a dragon, too, you know. You’ll never know I was even there if that’s what you want. I’m just going to come with you.” 

Genevieve ran a hand through her hair, trying to suppress her irritation. She could already feel the familiar pressure of the day beginning to weigh on her, despite the dark sky and the promise of escape on Tairn’s back. 

“You’re not going to let me fly alone, are you?” she asked, although she already knew the answer. 

Liam smiled, his expression a mix of amusement and apology, but so charming that it usually disarmed people. “Not a chance. Xaden would have my head. Besides, a little company will do you good, and you still get your sunrise.”

“That’s not the point,” she muttered, crossing her arms, her mind racing for a way out. “I just… I need some space, Liam. Some time to breathe.” 

Liam’s smile faltered slightly, his eyes softening with understanding. “I get it. Really, I do. But Xaden is just trying to look out for you. After what happened… Well, no one’s going to take any chances. Especially not him.” 

Genevieve clenched her jaw. Of course. The incident with the cadets. She’d killed three people in her own room. Lost control. And now everyone saw her as a ticking time bomb. She sighed, gesturing for Liam to step into her room as she returned to grab her flight gear. 

The thought of Xaden assigning her a gear, after everything that had already happened, filled her with a simmering annoyance. She had survived captivity, trained under the most brutal conditions, and yet here he was–deciding she needed to be babysat. But then again, after the incident with the cadets and her newfound, uncontrollable powers, maybe Xaden had a point. Not that she’d admit it. 

Train’s voice rumbled in her mind, low and slightly amused. “It’s not the worst idea. You haven’t exactly mastered your abilities yet, and neither of us wants a repeat of what happened yesterday.” 

“I don’t need a reminder,” she shot back, pulling on her boots. “And I don’t need a guard either. This is ridiculous.” 

“Perhaps,” Train replied, his tone nonchalant. “But would it kill you to let someone have your back?” Genevieve paused at that, staring at her reflection in the small mirror above her dresser. Her eyes were tired, the dark circles under them a reminder of sleepless nights and endless battles–both physical and emotional. The truth was, she had spent so long relying on herself, fighting her own demons in silences, that the idea of someone else watching her back felt foreign. And maybe a little too dangerous. 

She shoved the thought aside and grabbed her jacket, throwing it over her shoulders as she stepped to the doorway where Liam was waiting. He was leaning against the doorframe, inspecting the figurine of Astrape. 

“Let’s get this over with,” she muttered. 

Liam grinned, pushing off the wall and falling into step beside her as they made their way to the flight field. 

“Just so you know, I don’t snore,” he said casually. 

Genevieve raised an eyebrow. “And why would I need to know that?” 

“Because I have a feeling Xaden’s going to keep this little guard situation going for a while,” Liam teased. “You might as well get used to me being around.” 

“You are not sleeping in my room,” she grumbled, her responses a low growl as they reached the flight field. But the moment her eyes caught sight of Tairn, the irritation melted away. His massive form was silhouetted against the faintest hint of dawn on the horizon, his dark scales shimmering under the starlight. There was a quiet power in his presence, and for a moment, Genevieve felt the weight of everything lift–just a little. 

Tairn dipped his head as she approached, his golden eyes gleaming. “Ready?” 

Genevieve nodded, feeling the familiar surge of excitement at the thought of flying. She placed her hands against his warm scales, and with a fluid motion, climbed onto his back. 

Liam followed suit, his dragon appearing from the shadows with a low rumble. Deigh was smaller than Tairn, but no less impressive. Her sleek, red body cutting through the early morning as she stood proud for Liam to mount. 

“Try to keep up,” Genevieve called out over her shoulder, a faith smile tugging at her lips. 

Liam laughed, unbothered. “Race you to the clouds.” 

With a sharp motion, both dragons launched into the air, their wings beating powerfully against the cold morning wind. Genevieve held tight to Tairn as they soared higher, the ground quickly disappearing beneath them. The sky opened up before them, vast and endless, and for the first time in days, she felt free. 

As they climbed above the clouds, the horizon began to glow with the first light of dawn. Breaking through the clouds, the sky opened up before them in a blaze with colors–deep purples, fiery oranges, and soft pinks blending together in a breathtaking display. Genevieve’s heart swelled at the beauty of it all. The stars reflected the twinkling of her heart as she laid back and watched them disappear in the light. 

For now, there was just the sky, the wind, and the sunrise. 

“You fly, and the world falls away,” Tairn murmured in her mind. 

And that was exactly what she needed. A moment where the weight of her responsibilities could disappear, even if it was just for a little while. She could pretend, up in the clouds, that she wasn’t a spy, that her heart wasn’t constantly torn between loyalty, revenge, and something far more dangerous. 

Up here, she was just Genevieve. No spies. No traitors. No guards, except for Liam who kept true to his promise of keeping his distance. Just her and Tairn, flying free. 

“You will always have this,” Tairn whispered, his voice a comforting rumble. “No one can take this from you.”

But as the sun rose, a part of her knew it was only a matter of time before she had to come back down. Back to reality, back to Xaden confusing her heart, back to lies and half-truth that filled every corner of her life. 

————————————————-

“Hale!” Professor Carr exclaimed, a sickening expression of joy and excitement on his face. “It’s our first signet training lesson one on one! Isn’t this exciting?” 

“Call me Genevieve,” She said, her voice snapping. 

His eyes flashed with annoyance. 

“I just want to see what you can do today, especially since you tried to hide your signet from me.” He said, and his voice was sickeningly soft and sweet. A horrible contrast to the man who used to spit at her when she was captive. “I knew that with a dragon like Tairn you would be powerful.” 

Genevieve nodded, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes. 

Her squad and Xaden had tried to keep her signet under wraps, tried to make sure that no one knew how dangerous she was becoming, but it's hard to hide the vines that seem to always be creeping up her legs every time she stood still for too long, and it's hard to hide the flowers that bloomed after every step she took on ground besides stone and wood. 

“We’re going to start your training with a simple test,” Professor Carr said, his voice dripping with condescension. “You see, I want to feel what you can do. Unleash your signet, Hale. Let’s see if you can handle it without, well…” He paused for dramatic effect, grinning like a predator, “killing anyone this time.” 

Genevieve’s jaw clenched, the memory of the cadet’s lifeless bodies flashing through her mind. Her fingers twitch involuntarily, and she balled them into fists to keep the vines from appearing too soon. 

“Relax, Hale,” Carr crooned, stepping closer. His presence felt suffocating, too familiar. “Or should I say Genevieve? You were so much more… compliant under General Sorrengail’s care. Have you forgotten how to be obedient?” 

Her heart pounded in her chest, a wave of nausea rolling over her as the memories of her captivity rushed back—the dungeon, General Sorrengail’s smile, the darkness that seemed to swallow her whole. But she wasn’t that girl anymore. She had Tairn now. She had power.

And yet, that power terrified her more than Carr ever could. And she needed him to learn how to control it. 

So, taking a deep breath, she focused on the ground around her, willing the vines to stay dormant, and for the ones she had already sprouted to retreat back into the earth. In her mind, the image of their threads of life were woven back into the blanket of the earth instead of manipulated into her own thread of life. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. But she could already feel them stirring, breaking out of her weak control, responding to her rising anger. 

“Go ahead,” Carr taunted, his voice a low whisper. “Show me what Lilith’s little pet has become.”

Genevieve snapped. Her vision blurred as the ground beneath her cracked open, vines erupting from the earth, spiraling towards Carr with a speed that startled even her. He flinched, his smug grin faltering as the tendrils coiled around his feet, tightening with each passing second. 

Tairn’s voice echoed in her mind, a deep, rumbling presence. “Control it, little soldier. Don’t let him bait you.”

But the vines continued to rise, dark flowers blooming in their wake, their petals shimmering with an unnatural sheen. Carr’s eyes widened in fear, and for a moment, Genevieve relished the panic in his expression. 

“Stop this!” Carr said, forcing his voice to be strong, but his eyes gave way to the terror that her vines were causing. All the arrogance was drained from his face as the vines twisted higher, nearing his throat. 

Genevieve hesitated, her breath ragged, the fury coursing through her veins like wildfire. She could end this. She could make him pay for every moment of her suffering, for every cruel word and sickening smile. 

But something inside her wavered. This wasn’t who she wanted to be. She wasn’t General Sorrengail. She wasn’t a monster. Even if she wanted to kill him, he’s the only man alive who is trained to figure out how signets work. She needs him. 

With a sharp inhale, she closed her eyes and willed the vines to release. Slowly, they retreated, slithering back into the earth, the flowers withering and crumbling into dust as she took life back. 

Carr stumbled back, his face pale with shock. But his grin was sinister, evil almost. 

“Good, Hale,” He said, his voice disgustingly shallow. “Do it again. Focus on that target,” he gestured to a dummy across the field from her. “And will those vines to fight. Life Weaving is about giving life and taking it too.” 

Genevieve's hands trembled as she released a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. The ground still felt alive beneath her feet, pulsing with energy, but she wasn’t ready to unleash it again. Not yet. She had to remember her goal—control. She was no use to anyone if she couldn’t rein in her power, no matter how satisfying it would be to strangle the life out of Carr. 

Her eyes flickered toward the dummy, its lifeless form a far cry from the man in front of her, yet it stirred the same sick sense of hatred. Life and death, she thought, a bitter taste on her tongue. Carr made it sound so simple, so mechanical, but it wasn’t just life and death. It was everything in between. 

“You think this is some kind of game?” She snapped, eyes narrowing at Professor Carr. “I’m not your puppet.” 

His eyes flickered toward her, still carrying that disgusting amusement, but now there was a trace of something darker beneath it. Fear. “Oh, but you are, Hale. You’re the best weapon we’ve ever had, and deep down, you know it. That’s why General Sorrengail kept you locked up. You’re dangerous. Even she knew you would become something she couldn’t control.” 

Genevieve’s chest tightened at his words, the weight of them pressing against her ribs. She had spent over a year under Lilith’s thumb, every day a reminder of how powerless she’d felt. And now, here she was, faced with the power she had always dreamed of, but the cost of wielding it felt heavier than she’d imagined. 

Carr’s eyes flickered to the dummy in the distance. “You need to understand your abilities. Control means understanding when to take and when to give. That’s the difference between you and General Sorrengail. She knew exactly how much she could take before she had to give something in return.” 

Genevieve gritted her teeth. Lilith had been methodical, cold, ruthless—but she wasn’t the General. She wasn’t going to become her. 

But the vines, they were an extension of her now. She could feel them, like a second pulse under her skin, ready to spring forth at her command. Carr was right about one thing: she needed control or the power would consume her. 

“I think you underestimate how much I’m holding back,” Genevieve shot back, her voice cold as ice. 

Tairn’s presence surged in her mind, steady and grounding. “You control this. Don’t let him get under your skin. He wants you to lose control—don’t give him the satisfaction.”

But Carr’s smug expression was a taunt all on its own, every word out of his mouth pushing her closer to that edge. She turned her gaze to the dummy, focusing her power, trying to draw on the same force she’d just unleashed without letting it overwhelm her. Her palms grew warm, the air around her humming with tension as the earth stirred once more. Vines snake from the ground, slower this time, more deliberate. She focused on each tendril, guiding them towards the target. 

“Faster,” Carr barked. “You’re not weaving life, you're playing with it like a child. Do it again.” 

Genevieve’s control faltered as his words cut through her concentration. Her pulse quickened, and the vines sped up, twisting violently as they reached the dummy, wrapping around its wooden form. The flowers bloomed again, dark and deadly, their petals shimmering under the sun. She gritted her teeth, trying to rein them in before they consumed everything in sight. 

“Better,” Carr said, stepping closer, inspecting her work. “But not good enough. You’re holding back, Genevieve. You can feel it, can’t you? That raw power waiting just beneath the surface. Stop trying to control it—unleash it. Or are you afraid of what you might become?” 

She glared at him, chest heaving as she fought to maintain control. “I know exactly what I’ll become if I let go.” 

“Oh?” Carr leaned in, his voice a low whisper. “And what’s that? A monster? A Weapon? Something worse?”

Her heart pounded in her ears, and for a moment, the weight of his words pressed down on her. The vines tightened around the dummy, cracking the wood as they constricted, and she felt the pull—an urge to push further, to let the vines spread, to tear the whole training field apart if she wanted. 

But she didn’t. She couldn’t. She had to master this power, not let it master her. With a fierce breath, she released the vines, letting them fall limp at the base of the dummy. Her fingers twitched, but she forced herself to stay still, refusing to rise to Carr’s bait. 

“Again.” He said, sneering the words between gritted teeth. 

And she complied, sticking the target again and again, over and over until the fire simmering underneath her skin exploded. 

Her skin radiated heat, and it felt as if she was being struck by lightning. She was nearing burnout, her own body resembling more of a skeleton than a human as she struck again. 

“You need to stop,” Tairn bellowed, his voice strict and commanding. Genevieve’s breathing came in ragged gasps, each strike against the target sapping her strength. The air around her crackled with energy, the heat of her signet flaring wildly as she neared burnout, her control slipping. Her skin felt like it was burning from the inside out, the raw power coursing through her veins a searing reminder of just how dangerous she could become. Each command from Carr grove her further, pushing her to the brink of her limits. 

“Stop,” Tairn’s voice thundered in her mind, filled with urgency and concern. “You’re on the edge. You’re reaching burnout, you will die if you continue.” 

But Carr’s sneer only grew more pronounced as he watched her struggle. “You see, Genevieve? This is what true power looks like. You are destructive because of this power.” 

Genevieve’s vision blurred, her hands shaking uncontrollably as the vines grew. She collapsed to her knees. She could feel the power inside her building to an unbearable level, and it was all she could do to keep herself from breaking down completely. The dummy was barely recognizable now, its wooden frame splintered and covered in thick, dark vines. 

“No,” she managed to croak, her voice barely audible over the roar of her own power. “I need to stop.” 

The intensity of her power was reaching a critical mass, and she felt as if she was teetering on the edge of a precipice. If she went any further, she might not be able to pull back. The threat of losing control was real, and it made her shiver despite the heat radiating from her. 

“Genevieve, focus on me.” Tairn’s presence was a grounding force in the chaos, a beacon of calm amidst the storm. “Let go of the anger, and find the balance. You can do this.” 

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out Carr’s taunts and the searing heat that was making her feel faint. She visualized the threads falling back, weaving themselves back into the earth. The flowers wither away, back into the pattern of the world. She willed herself to find the center of her own power, to channel it into control rather than destruction. 

With a supreme effort of will, she forced the vines to recede, letting them unravel from the dummy and and sink back into the earth. The heat slowly dissipates from her body, leaving her weak and trembling. Her knees sunk into the now plush grass beneath her. 

When she finally opened her eyes, Carr was staring at her with a mixture of disdain and grudging respect. “That was a start. We will do more next lesson.” His words were clipped and cruel. “You have potential, but potential means nothing if you can’t harness it. You’re a force of nature. Learn to control it, or it will control you.: 

Genevieve nodded, her breath coming in shaky gasps. “I understand.” 

Carr’s lips curled into a thin smile. “Good. Remember, power is a double-edged sword. Wield it wisely.”

As he walked away, Genevieve sank further into the ground, laying on her back as she let the grass grow around her, her strength finally giving out. Tairn’s comforting presence enveloped her, a soothing balm to the raw edges of her psyche. She took deep, shuddering breaths, trying to regain her composure. 

“You did well,” Tairn said softly, though there was an undercurrent of concern in his voice. “He will be here soon, to take you from this field.” 

Genevieve didn’t respond, she just closed her eyes and nodded, letting the late November sun warm her shocked body.

Xaden was coming to save her, again.  

Genevieve lay motionless on the soft grass, her body aching from the strain of her power, every muscle screaming in protest. The earth around her felt as if it was responding to her exhaustion with a gentle embrace, the vines and grass curling around her limbs protectively held her close. It was a small comfort, the only one she had as her mind raced with the lingering sting of Carr’s words. 

A force of nature. She wasn’t sure if she liked the sound of that. It implied something wild, uncontrollable. And she couldn’t afford to be either. 

Tairn’s presence was still there, steady and reassuring, but even he felt distant now, his concern threading through their bond but not overwhelming her. She needed space to breathe, to think, to push away the fear of what she would become. 

But despite everything, her body betrayed her with trembling hands and ragged breaths. Carr had pushed her too far, too fast, and she wasn’t sure if she was strong enough to keep her promise to herself. Control seemed so far out of reach when the anger surged so easily, when every moment was a battle to hold back the power bubbling beneath her skin. 

A soft crunch of boots on grass made her heart jump. She didn’t need to open her eyes to know who it was–Xaden’s presence was unmistakable, a dark cloud of tension that always followed him, but today there was something softer in the way he approached, the usual hard edge dulled by worry. 

“Gen,” his voice was low, a mixture of anger and concern as he knelt beside her. “What the hell did he do to you?” 

She opened her eyes slowly, her vision clouded with exhaustion, but even through the haze, she could see the barely restrained fury in his expression. His jaw was clenched, his dark eyes scanning her face as if he could will her back to strength through sheer force.

“Pushed me,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “He wanted… control. He wanted me to break.” 

Xaden’s face darkened, his hands hovering beside her as if he didn’t know whether to pull her into his arms or to give her space to breathe “You’re not broken,” he said firmly, the intensity in his voice making her chest tighten. “He doesn’t get to win.” 

A weak smile tugged at her lips, though it faded quickly as the reality of her body’s limitations set in. “Feels like he did.” 

He waited for a moment, his eyes looking into hers, searching for some semblance of an answer for whether or not she was ok with him touching her. If she felt as if he would die if he got too close, he would back off, wait until she was strong enough to walk on her own and walk with her to her bedroom. But if not-

“It’s ok,” she muttered, her voice strained and tired. “I know I won’t kill you, not anymore. I see the threads now.” 

Without hesitation, Xaden gently slid his arms under her, lifting her from the ground with ease. The vines that had wrapped around her limbs loosened, as if sensing she was safe now, retreating back into the earth. His warmth enveloped her, and for the first time in hours, she allowed herself to lean into it, to let the weight of her exhaustion melt into him. Resting her head on his chest, she breathed in, and the scent of mint and leather condition filled her senses. She sighed contently, Xaden smelled like safety. 

“I’m going to talk to him,” Xaden muttered, his voice low and dangerous as he carried her away from the training field. 

“Not today,” she breathed, the effort of speaking draining her already depleted strength. “We need him… as much as I hate it.”

His arms tightened around her, a silent acknowledgement of the truth in her words, even if it killed him to admit it. She could feel the tension rolling off of him and into their bond, the barely contained rage he was holding back for her sake. But she wasn’t blind to this protectiveness that had bloomed between them, the way he was willing to save her even when she couldn’t save herself. 

“Rest,” he murmured, his voice softer now as they moved closer to the buildings of Basgiath and away from the fields, the chaos of the day fading into the background. “I’ll wake you when it’s time for dinner. We’ll figure this out.” 

Genevieve nodded, and closed her eyes, letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lull her into a sense of calm she hadn’t felt in weeks. 

For now, she would rest. For now, she would let him carry her. 

—----------------------------------------------------------

 The rest of November passed in a blink of an eye, leaving in a blur of shadows and strain. Genevieve spent twice a week from mid-November to mid-December with professor Carr in special private sessions, aimed to help her get control with her power, but with each lesson, it felt as if she was getting weaker. Losing control. 

In the dimly lit sparring gym, Geneviev and Violet squared off, their staffs made contact with a series of sharp, resounding thwacks. With the force of the blow, Genevieve winced, her arms jolting. Her arms felt like glass, her bones weak.

“I think you’ve been doing too much giving,” Violet says, her breaths heavy and labored. “Maybe it’s time to take some life, too.”

“I’m not going to kill someone because I feel weak, Violet,” Genevieve bit, but the harshness in her words was masked by the concern Violet exuded. 

“You look like a skeleton, have you seen yourself?” Rhiannon points out. “Your eyes are completely sunken in and you’ve lost weight. You were skinny to begin with but it’s like your signet is eating away at you. You need something.”

Genevieve groans in annoyance, rolling her eyes. “I know, but last time Carr made me take life it felt as if I was draining the Earth from its pulse. And I can barely sleep after I do it. Not to mention I can’t even lock my door without freaking out so Liam sleeps outside my door and I feel so bad.”

“About that…” Liam trails off, looking away sheepishly. “I talked to Xaden the night you figured out I was doing that so he may or may not have warded your room so that only you can open it.” He stopped, and Genevieve blinked blankly. “It’s not like it’s locked! It just can’t be opened!”

Genevieve stared at Liam, incredulously. “That’s the same thing!”

“No it’s not like that,” he shook his head in protest, face flushed. “You can still get out anytime, just no one can get in.” 

“Genevieve, you need rest,” Rhiannon pushed gently, her brow furrowed with worry. “No one’s saying you’re weak, but you can’t keep this up.”

But it was a weakness. Genevieve hated the way her body betrayed her, the way it had begun to recoil every time she drew on her signet. It gnawed at her, sucking her dry. Carr’s lessons were supposed to help, but they were slowly consuming her, leaving her feeling hollow.

“I can handle it,” she snapped, more to herself than to them.

“We all understand that signet training is hard-” Genevieve cut Violet off. 

“No, you don’t understand!” She exclaimed, her anger finally blowing over. “Your signet hasn’t manifested! Hell, you haven’t even started channeling!”

Violet immediately backed off, a flash of hurt and jealousy hitting her face like a bolt of lightning. 

“Genevieve! Violet has her struggles just like you. We’re all trying our best, be nice.” Rhiannon chastised as if she was talking to a misbehaving child. 

“Yeah you all have your struggles but you can’t relate to mine, so stop pretending like you can!” The wooden staff in her hands broke in half, And the break was quickly swallowed by creeping vines and dark flowers. The room fell into a stunned silence as the floral growth consumed the broken staff, the dark blooms spreading out like a living nightmare. 

Her friends watched in shocked silence, their fear palpable. Violet’s gaze was fixed on the floor, Rhiannon’s brows furrowed in distress, and even Liam’s usual calm was marred by discomfort. 

Between the threads that were constantly now in her vision, she could feel the walls around her growing once more. They thickened with every ounce of fear that the people around her exuded. Genevieve watched as her own heart broke into pieces, and was cemented into the wall around her. The wall that was once broken down and destroyed, allowing Rhiannon, Violet, Sawyer, Ridoc, and now Liam in, was firmly built up strongly once more. Blocking them out. 

Genevieve’s heart ached as the silence stretched. “You’re all afraid of me,” she said quietly, the hurt clear in her voice. “You’re afraid of what I might do, of what I could become.”

The silence that followed Genevieve’s words was thick, suffocating. Her friends shifted uneasily, but no one rushed to deny it. The air was heavy with the scent of the dark flowers that had sprouted from her shattered staff, the vines now curling menacingly around the gym floor. She could feel it—their unease, their uncertainty. It pressed against her, invisible but undeniable, just as tangible as the walls she’d erected to keep them at a distance. 

“Everytime I look at you guys, I can see these threads connecting you to the Earth. And now I know how to keep myself from snapping those threads with what little control I have of my signet, but even despite this control that I’ve managed to grasp from nothing, you all look at me as if one wrong move and I’ll snip your thread short.” She explained, her voice shaking as she struggled to keep her emotions in check. “I can feel it in the way you talk to me, the way you look at me as if I’m about to explode and take you all down with me.” 

Rhiannon’s lips parted, as if she wanted to say something, but the words didn’t come. Her usual sharpness was softened by uncertainty. Violet opened her mouth, but closed it again, glancing at Liam, who stood tense beside her, his hands almost protectively clasped around her arm. No one rushed to reassure her, and that silence cut deeper than any words could have. 

“We’re not afraid of you,” Liam finally said, though his voice lacked its usual confidence. “We’re worried about you.” 

“That’s not true,” Geneveive’s eyes narrowed, her grip on the broken staff tightening. The flowers wrapped around it pulsed as if in tune with her anger. “You’re all terrified. I see it. And don’t you dare try to lie to me about it. I can practically feel your fear.” 

Rhiannon, ever the leader, took a cautious step forward, her hand extended “Genevieve, we’re not—”

“You’re lying and you know it!” Genevieve cut her off, stepping back, the vines curling tighter around her feet. “You say you’re worried, but I can feel the space between us growing every day. Don’t you think I notice how you all treat me now? Like I’m some problem waiting to be solved?” 

Rhiannon flinched, but held her ground. “We’re not lying. We don’t know how to help you. That’s all it is. But we care. We’re not afraid of you, we’re afraid of losing you.” 

Genevieve’s heart twisted at those words. She wanted to believe them, to cling to the hope that her friends hadn’t abandoned her, but the truth that she believed so deeply in her heart felt like a heavy stone lodged in her chest. She had lost them, in some way. That bond, that trust—they were fraying, and she didn’t know how to stop it. 

The threads that connected her to them, the ones she saw every time she used her signet, were so fragile. She feared that with one wrong move, she’d snap them, and they’d be gone for good. 

“You will lose me,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “At this rate, I’m losing myself.” 

Liam’s face fell, and for the first time, he looked truly helpless. “We don’t want that to happen. We’re trying to be here for you, but…” 

“But what?” Genevieve pressed, her voice sharp again. “You don’t understand what it feels like. You don’t know what it’s like to have your own power drain the life from you. I can feel myself dying everyday. And when I take life, I can feel myself being filled with power again, being filled with life.” 

The admission hung in the air like a death sentence. Genevieve’s words, raw and unfiltered, spoke the truth of her power. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up,” she whispered, her voice cracked, full of fear and exhaustion. 

Her friends exchanged glances, tension thick between them. They couldn’t fully understand, but the weight of her words was clear. 

“Then let us help,” Violet said softly, stepping closer. “You don’t have to fight this alone, Genevieve.” 

Genevieve backed away, shaking her head. “You can’t help. I’m dangerous. One touch from me, and—”

Without hesitation, Liam closed the gap, grabbing her hand. His fingers wrapped firmly around hers, despite the faint pulse of energy beneath her skin. “We’re not afraid of you,” he said quietly, his grip steady. 

Rhiannon stepped forward, grabbing her other hand tightly. “When I say this you better believe me,” She paused, looking into Genevieve's eyes and searching for her confirmation. “We aren’t scared of you, Genevieve.“

Violet, not far behind, rested her hand on Genevieve’s arm. “You don’t have another hand, so I can’t hold it, but we trust you.” 

Genevieve’s breath caught. Her power hummed beneath the surface, but they didn’t pull away. The walls around her heart cracked, just a little. Maybe she wasn’t alone after all. 

“I don’t want to lose you,” she whispered. 

“You won’t,” Liam said, squeezing her hand. “We’ll figure this out. Together.” 

-------------------------------------------------

Hey guys!! How are you all? I just got an interview with my dream uni, so I'm doing pretty good (OMG I AM FREAKING OUT)!

On another note, I have reposted chapter 1, completely re-written with new information and just a lot better, because I definitely have grown as a writer since the start of the book. I'll be updating on the normal schedule, but also slowly posting the revised chapters as well.

As I re-write, please go back and read them (if you want to, of course), as I will be changing and adding things, so stuff will make more sense. Besides that, chapter 13 will be up either on sunday or saturday, so keep your eyes pealed for that (there will be smut)!

Let me know what you guys think! I'll see you all soon~

[iteration-orpheus]

Coming to theaters THIS FALL.... *shot of a traveller waking up and looking around to find themselves in the desert. space oddity intrsumental playing* we will find ourselves travelling through thr skies...... *traveler on ship* oh.... where am i....? is there anyone here...? am i the..... only man in this sky??? - well meet many interesting sorts of aliens...... *shot of nada played by scarlett johanson and polo played by jack blackk waving at te camera* and..... much more dangerous threats...... *shot of a hundred centinels chasing the traveler* oh man!!! cme on, is it illegal to mine????? - and our protagonist will find themselves.... *shot of artemis, voiced by zendaya screaming while disappearing in a portal and apollo, voiced by chris pratt yelling NO* on a mission to rescue a complete stranger..... *traveler struggling to exit a black hole's grasp* *shot of the atlas voiced by william defoe* ive been waiting to meet you..... *shot ot the traveler floating in space* will our friend survive? will they become.... the MAN in the SKY???? *thunderstuck by adcd playing, shot of traveler raising their gun to shoot at a sentinel walker while riding one of those giant worms* find out.... this 32nd of november... only in theaters...... *shot of the traveller and apollo videocalling* haha anyways apollo dont worry i got it all under control. bye! *the traveler then doesnt actually hang up and begins crying. apollo turns to the camera and makes a dreamworks face* can you believe this guy? *end credits*

[rowaelinsdaughter]

KEEP MY HEART CHAPTER II

a/n;; chapter 2 is here!!! hope you like this as much as im doing.

WARNING;; spoilers for heir of fire, manon and ayla are possessive over each other (i love this)

ayla hated the ferian gap.

 there was something wicked, cruel, rotten there. and she hated the amount of people reunited there. well, the amount of witches there. the blackbeak coven was the last one to arrive, and as a result, they were given the smallest rooms. not that she complained about that, she was going to sleep with manon, but the matron had made it clear that she wasn't going to ride a wyvern. it was too dangerous for her to participate, she had claimed, because the matron didn't want her to die. her precious treasure.

she had watched as manon gave three blows to her second due to a fight with a yellowleg sentinel. one to the gut, one to the ribs and the final one to the face. asterin hadn’t screamed or pleaded for manon to stop, and now, at breakfast, her second gave her a fierce grin. a small smile appeared in ayla’s face, and she felt manon’s hand grab her tight. a warning, but she took the hand placed in her tight, careful that no one notices it. 

she was wearing a dress. one that manon had bought her and had claimed it was her favorite. long sleeves that helped hide her hands, a cut on the skirt that showed her leg, a corset and high boots. she had entered the room with manon’s hand around her waist, making clear to the witches gathered there that ayla was manon’s, and the scent lingered with manon’s made clear that manon was ayla’s. no one would dare to look at her with the white demon at her side. 

but someone was watching her. 

she studied the room and found her… iskra yellowlegs. the leader of the centinel that had fought with asterin. her eyes narrowed as iskra looked at her from head to toes. assessing her next prey. manon noticed her body was tense. “what’s happening?” she whispered so anyone couldn’t hear. she didn’t answer. so manon followed the direction of her eyes and found her. she gripped the table. crack. the table was breaking under her strength. iskra gave manon a defiant smile. come on, come for me. 

she was going to kill her. ayla gripped her arm before she could stand. “manon stop. it's going to be worse if you start a fight with her”

manon looked at her, her eyes a burning gold that promised blood. ayla took her hand. “please, manon”

one, two, three, four… a minute passed until she relaxed enough to talk. “if she tries something to you or even breath near you, i kill her”

ayla rolled her eyes “you know i can defend myself, do you?”

“i know, but i don't like her”

“me neither manon. me neither”

✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮

even though ayla wasn't going to ride a wyvern, she had to follow manon wherever she went, so she and the thirteen could keep an eye on her. direct order from the matron.  

again, manon’s hand was on her waist as yellowlegs and blackbeaks stepped aside for them to pass. fifty witches were gathered at the hole in the side of the mountain. the matron was at the entrance of the bridge, the blueblood and yellowlegs matrons at her side. 

manon walked towards her grandmother leaving ayla with the thirteen. each heiress was at the side of her matrons. petrah, the heir of the blueblood, and iskra, the yellowlegs heir, was grinning at manon as she approached her grandmother. 

“now that we’re assembled,” the blueblood matron—cresseida—said, “shall we show you what we’ve been brought here to do?”

mother blackbeak waved a hand to the bridge, black robes billowing in the icy wind. “we walk into the sky, witches.” 

they were led to an atrium in the northern fang, where five men were waiting. each heir was behind their respective matron, protecting them. a men started to explain what they were going to do and what they were doing there. 

ayla was getting bored when the iron gate lifted. and in front of them, a wyvern appeared. a beast. she watched as everyone held their breath. “titus is one of our best,” the man said. he started to explain the characteristics of titus.  

and she watched as manon and titus shared a smile.

all rights reserved to ©rowaelinsdaughter. no tranlations allowed. no copy theme. don not copy my work.

tagging;; @thehighladywrites @danikamariewrites @hellwantfuckme

[paro-h]

The Centenary sentinel (Centinel)

In my hometown stands a centenary rain tree.

Its wide canopy stretches for several feet in all directions. It stands as a reminder, a comfort and a place of shade. The shade of a friend’s shadow that blocks out the harsh sun.

It speaks quietly in green coloured, sun dappled whispers of all that it has seen. It tell the stories that it has overheard. It watches people come and go, live and die.

In my hometown there stands a centenary rain tree.

Its branches are like rivers, are like veins, are like paths from the ground to the ever darkening sky heavy with rain clouds. I am no climber. But I am rooted. I too can reach my hands up to catch the rain like the centenary rain tree.

[x-junwrites-x]

Long Time No See

Tord x Reader

Tw: none

The two of you sat on a bench, watching the faint trail of smoke gather in a bigger cloud on the skyline of the city across the shore. You idly kicked some of the pebbles buried in the grass, feeling as though your eyelids would finally succumb to the fatigue that washed over you. It had been a long day of planting bombs in the rafters of certain buildings, all surrounding your target. Acts of terrorism, the news reports would call it. Acts of rebellion. A smirk played on your lips as you thought about the orchestration of the final act of defiance against the Red Leader.

“Hey,” Your partner beside you gave a nudge on your shoulder, eyes skimming to somewhere past your head. You tilted your head to the side, question catching in your throat as you noticed the way the newcomer’s signature helmet was off and away. It had been ages since the two of you got to talk face to face. Besides the weekly calls the two of you had late at night when no one in either of your bases was awake. Or listening.

Your partner melted off of the bench, quietly excusing himself to walk back to the trail that led the two of you over to the cliffside.

The Red Leader gave you a once over, clouded eye looking as though it could see right through you as if you were a ghost.

“I didn't expect the amount of firepower the rebellion used today to be your doing.” He said calmly, moving to sit next to you. There were a couple feet in between you on the bench. You didn’t feel the need to stifle the way you relaxed at the proximity. Too tired for that.

“Yeah well, how do you expect us to topple centinel buildings without it.” Your snark made a puff of breath release from his lips. His fingers idly skimmed the chipped wood of the bench, tapping a slow rhythm on the grain.

“It’s been a while.” He said quietly, looking out onto the lazy waves of the peninsula. His voice had started sounding more subdued over the late night calls lately, hitting a tone you couldn’t decipher once one of the rebellion’s biggest bases was hit a few weeks ago. You sighed, smoothing over the fabric of your pants over your knees.

“It has.” You started, a pregnant pause between you. You could feel the way he tensed as you started the next sentence, “You know, the worst of it all, if you ask now,” his hand clenched on his thigh, “I’ll forgive you.”

The Red Leader shuddered, turning to finally give you his full attention. Eyes scanned over your features, finding truth behind your words.

“I’m so sorry. We weren’t meant to hit the clinic, you know there’s no use in hitting the downed.” He swallowed, “There was a rat in our ranks, playing for the third party we hadn’t paid much attention to. They got us.” You nodded after a second, knowing that he truly hadn’t intended on bombing one of the only places in the rebellion with the most medicinal coverage. It was never his game.

“I know.” Your hand hesitantly found his, reaching slowly so he could pull away. To your surprise, his hand stayed curled on his thigh. His skin felt as cold as the breeze that was hitting the two of you from the waters down below.

“We’ll figure it out.” Talking about the rebellion. Your eyes focused on the cloud of smoke in the distance, finding helicopters in the sky like little flies. The Red Leader could see them to, given by the snort he let out.

“Those sharks are always looking to capture the worst of situations for entertainment.” He grunted, his own fingers interlacing with yours. You gave his hand a squeeze.

“It won’t be long before your dogs trail us.” You murmured, head tilting to watch his reaction. He gave a stiff nod. His hand didn’t leave yours.

“I’ll see you when I see you, then.”

The end.

[mmnt-art]

Ah, yes, another centinel I'll love-

[nekoannie-chan]

Flesh wound

Title: Flesh wound.

Fandom: Marvel, The Gifted, X-men.

Ship: Lorna Dane X Mutant!Reader.

Word count: 241 words.

Rating: Teen.

Summary: Lorna was hurt escaping from the Centinels.

Major Tags: Flesh wound.

Additional tags: This is my entry to @multifandom-flash, Annie-3002 & square 7:

"Only a flesh wound.”

You can read it on Wattpad and Ao3 too.

@saiyanprincessswanie

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

I don’t give any kind of permission that my fics to be posted on other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other's people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

Add yourself to my taglist here.

My other media where I publish:  Ao3, Wattpad, ffnet, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter. 

If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.

Tags: @sinceimetyou @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @navybrat817 @angrythingstarlight @shield-agent78 @charmed-asylum @pandaxnienke @real-fbi @smokeandnailz @white-wolf1940 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @xoxonotme @bluemusickid @leyannrae @harrysthiccthighsss @marvelatthisonee @caplanbuckybarness @sapphire-rogerss @lizzieolseniskinda @notyourtypicalrose @hallecarey1 @nana1000night @talia-rumlow @writingshae @alexxavicry @azulatodoryuga @daemonslittlebitch @chaoticcollectivenightmare @endlesstwanted @chemtrails-club  @marigoldreamer @whiskeytangofoxtrot5555 @here4thefanfics @theestorm @patzammit @kmc1989 @somegirlfromasgard

The deafening sound of the Sentinels chasing them was the most unbearable thing. You had lost count of the times they had had to flee from them in recent years.

Suddenly, a larger and more imposing Sentinel than the others appeared. You swallowed with difficulty; it seemed that they were modernizing their enemies. It also seemed that the robot could adapt to attacks, which made it more dangerous. In a moment of distraction, the Sentinel managed to land a blow to Polaris' side.

"Lorna!" he exclaimed, watching as she recoiled, holding her injured side. "Are you okay?"

Lorna forced a smile. "Only a flesh wound, don't worry. I'm still standing."

You gritted your teeth, frustrated that you weren't quick enough to avoid the attack. But before you could say anything, another sentry rushed at you. Polaris acted instinctively, deflecting the attack with a magnetic shield.

"It was only a flesh wound," Lorna insisted, noticing the concern in your eyes. "I'm fine, really."

But something wasn't right; they had to get out of that place immediately. Maybe Turner was nearby. You grabbed Lorna by the arm and forced her to start running. Suddenly, they saw an open portal and entered.

"I thought you would never get there," you commented when you saw Clarice.

"We had a little trouble," John said.

"Lorna is hurt," you pointed out.

Clarice nodded and took her to one of the rooms where they would check the wound.

[ask-cult-branch]

Question are centinel and idol the same Branch but different times

or are they different two different Branch

They have the same backstory up until they're about 10, that's when the escape happens in this AU. Sentinel was separated from Creek during the escape and ended up somewhat closer to cannon, but with some extra attachment issues and at least one person who values what he does. Idol managed to keep a hold on Creek and so grew up with one consistent friend and a debatably better self-medication method (drinking Creek's blood vs. "drugs and alcohol" [hard candy and such]) there's more detailed information on the pinned post :3

[meifunk]

im in the endgame of 13 Centinels and sekigahara just scratches my brain so much i had to draw him on Tux Paint

[bestworstcase]

Grimm behavior reassessment thought: y'know that sister training session called on account of Rather Tanky Ursa? Could Ruby & Yang have avoided that fight if they'd known to treat the big lug like careful hikers would an 'ordinary' bear encounter? There were a few 'pause & rear/roar' moments on its part which I guess *could* be read as 'hey stop that' or 'my turf, leave'.

yang’s character short has always interested me bc the ursa was there the whole time they were sparring.

like. yang throws a punch, ruby panic-flies into the bushes and then passes out:

on this screenshot i’ve marked ruby’s approximate path in red and circled the clump of bushes the ursa emerges from (using the logs laid around the perimeter as markers):

note the very dense foliage around the grimm; he’s completely hidden. yang gets concerned when ruby doesn’t respond, startles when she hears a twig snap in the area circled in yellow, this is what she sees:

and then he stands up:

which. ok. he’s a really big guy. there is no way he crept up on them and got that close before making a noticeable sound, and most grimm behave like pursuit predators besides—they wander around in the open and give chase when they come across prey. (although there are exceptions: the pack of apathy at brunswick drag the lamp around a corner and go dark to lie in wait, for example.)

the point is, he’s there, but yang can’t see him until his eyes illuminate because he’s lying down in the bushes. his markings are also ‘off’ and only begin to glow as he stands up.

we’ve seen grimm Do That a couple times:

and we’ve also seen in v8 that just because there don’t seem to be any grimm nearby doesn’t mean they aren’t there:

<- same thing happens in the mine. dozens of centinels pop out of the ground when the geist signals for them to screen his retreat deeper into the mine. which suggests that grimm may spend a lot of time… not hunting. unseen, hidden just under the surface or in the densest thickets, crevices, whatever. and no one knows because when grimm aren’t on the hunt they don’t attack unless provoked.

the big guy was just There! taking a nap! and he didn’t aggro until yang got spooked by ruby’s silence.

he also doesn’t seem to be all that interested in attacking after his initial charge and swipe; he knocks yang across the clearing and then turns away, until yang shoots him again:

i do think it’s really interesting that WOR: grimm implies that grimm are most strongly drawn by violence, not negativity per se: “what is perhaps even more unsettling is the basis of their attraction,” and the accompanying image is

a person killing another person with a rock.

i think—much more so than real animals—grimm are kind of emotional mirrors, in that they reflect the energy they’re shown. one thing that stands out to me about both salem and cinder is that while there is obviously an element of magic or kinship or both behind their influence over the grimm, from both of them we see these occasional moments of tenderness toward the grimm; cinder’s very gentle and soothing “shh, this is your home now” when she calms the wyvern, and the way salem softens when she caresses the goliath’s face in the v6 stinger:

and i wonder if there isn’t a meaningful correlation there. the two characters in the story who demonstrably have the ability to communicate and work with grimm are also the two characters who, in private moments when no one else is around to see, choose to be gentle with these creatures. is salem able to command grimm the way she does by magical compulsion or is she their leader, as raven put it, whom they follow because she’s kind to them and protects them.

[thegerto]

A new enemy for Patapon 4 Dimensions

The Mechapon Centinels