#fire empress armor

[fairy-edits]

❤️ FIRE EMPRESS 💙

-Fairy Tail: 100 Years Quest-

(#Coloring)

Credits: H.Mashima & A.Ueda's Arts.

Color by me.

[rainmacaroni]

Fire & Ice

Erza & Rukia

They are sisters !

[wwaheoh]

“What do the cold hands of Fate fear the most in the Universe? The fiery indomitable spirit of Humanity.” HSR x gnReader

Firefly, Himeko, Jing Yuan (+ Yanqing)

a/n: Starman by David Bowie type shit

Rip and tear. A dwindling defense against a relentless offense. Bugs, in the billions, cascading down towards Glammoth, all with the intent to devor. Her muscles screamed, the armor she was in began to grow heavier each minute, a metal coffin awaiting the moment her body gave up on her.

But she would not- could not let this happen. As part of the Iron Calvary, she had met someone she sparked a sense of wonder, of the uniqueness of each and every person. Someone she wanted to defend. Of course, this relationship was difficult to manage, with all of them having been born as nothing more than to fill the ranks and fight for their Empress. But there were times where the two of you could spend time together, really feel like people instead of the bred soldiers you were. Emotions that others in the Iron Cavalry knew not of bloomed between the two of you. 

The day the Swarm had come to their planet had been the day she intended to speak to you about these feelings she had, during the small breaks they had. She didn’t even know what to say, the words and their meaning never having been taught to her. 

So as she fought, all she could think about was you, the Empress barely even holding a space in her mind. Yet as she watched the suits of metal fall from the sky, it dawned on her that she might never be able to tell you anything. Tearing through the bodies as she rocketed forward, carnage raged around her, blood, guts, and fire being blown everywhere as panic fueled adrenaline.

Then the Swarm Mother appeared. And alll hell broke loose.

In her peripheral vision, a bright light appeared. Turning, she realized that it was yours. The two of you had played with the idea of decorating the suits- being reprimanded when attempted. But some super specific damages could be overlooked.

You exploded forward with a speed that left a sonic boom behind. Fire exploded as you bulldozed your way through the Swarm, leaving a trail of destruction through the army. Going straight for the Mother.

You exploded, with enough power to detonate stars, a beautiful supernova. 

Firefly screams, muscles seemingly revitalized with a feeling she’s never felt. Born to be a soldier, emotions taught to be kept down to keep a level head. All of it is thrown out the window as she charges forward into the regenerating mass. 

The smoke begins to clear, the Swarm Mother seemingly unaffected by what you had done.

It fills her with a rage that burns deep into her core.

Tearing through, she aims at the Swarm Mother, filling this blast with all of the power left in the mech, firing. 

A bright light overtakes her vision, white is all she sees before it goes to black.

-

Firefly sits by the window of the ship, watching the stars slowly pass by, one of the lessening times her body is able to be outside of stasis without suffering repercussions. An odd feeling stirring in her chest, bits of memories leaking from the box she locked them in, too much to bear.

Silver Wolf is running some maintenance on the mech. As the resident tech support of the Stellaron Hunters, it's become her job to make sure the mech known as “SAM” is in top shape.

beep… beep… Beep… Beep. BEEP… BEEP

What starts off barely audible begins to screech, the navigation system begins to go wild. Silver Wolf looks towards Firefly, who was broken from her thinking and now staring with wide eyes at the sound. 

“What’s that?”

Firefly quickly rushed to the mech, nearly tripping over herself as she hit a series of buttons, prompting a green holographic map to shine. A small red dot currently hurling itself at nearly 43,000/mph through the vastness of space. A red dot that symbolized a mech suit just like hers, another survivor…

“We have to recover it- it’s another one like me!” She exclaimed as she rushed to tell Kafka and get the ship to follow the projected path. 

Quickly the ship began to move faster, slipping off course and diverting its route to intercept the mecha. 

After several tense minutes, the ship was successfully able to slow the object down and reign it into the ship.

It was a giant piece of rock, yet something inside told her that it held something deep within. The frequency that had been discovered wasn’t something that could be made from an asteroid or piece of space junk.

Clearing everyone from the room, she entered her mech, charging it up to live with a flare of green, before slamming her fist down onto the rock and breaking it in half.

Inside was a damaged mecha, another Fyrefly Type-IV Strategic Assault Mech. Damaged, with battle damage all over. Metal melted and melding into other parts. It slowly creaked open, a body, with a face she never thought she’d see again falling out and onto the cold surface.

It was you…  the soft motion of your chest rising and falling told her that you were atleast alive.

Breaking from her stupor, she quickly screamed, “K-Kafka!” Said person quickly barged into the room, Blade and Silver Wolf ready, guns and blade in hands before quickly realizing what was happening. “We need to get them to my pod!”

They did just that, pulling your body into Firefly’s pod, stabilizing your vitals and checking for the sickness that ailed all of the Iron Calvary’s soldiers. It was there, but had been slowed to an insane rate as you had basically been ambered.

-

After several hours passed, you had finally awoken. Panicking at first before Firefly, who had been waiting by your pod-side, helped calm you down. Finally stable and conscious, they started the procedure to let you out: draining the fluids, unhooking you, taking out the IV, and taking off the oxygen mask. 

They allowed you some privacy to put on some clothes, pulling a white curtain around you with some spare clothes ready for you. 

After what seemed like forever to Firefly, you walked out of the room. A sense of dread as she proposed the question, “Do you remember me?”

An uncomfortable silence fell, with the other Stellaron Hunters trying but failing to not show that they were very blatantly eavesdropping on the two with bated breaths.

Finally you respond with affirmation, you do remember her. You remember them. You remember that hail-mary effort to take down the Swarm, intending to sacrifice yourself in order to bring down the Swarm Mother and give a chance to the Iron Cavalry- to her.

She rushes in to embrace you, with you opening your arms as she launches onto you. “Well, I’m called Firefly now…” “It’s… nice to meet you Firefly.” The name feels weird on your tongue, the two of you only having been designated with numbers rather than anything meaningful. But as you play with it, it feels right. 

Fyreflies, small little things that shone beautifully in the night. A future, together, that shone as well.

A beautiful sunset began to fall on this planet’s horizon, a warm orange transitioned into a deep purple. Stars twinkling in the evening sky.

It was you and Himeko, a cup of coffee in both your hands. The two of you were sitting on the porch of a home the two of you purchased. It wasn’t somewhere the two of you lived year-round, coming only for a couple weeks to relax from all the trailblazing the Astral Express got up to. It was quaint, overlooking a beautiful environment.

Taking a small sip of the coffee, you held in spitting it out- yup, still incredibly strong. Himeko laughed softly, admiring the fact that you still attempted to build up a resistance to the taste over the years. A beautiful thing to hear, never losing its novelty no matter how many times you heard it.

This was all so perfect…

“This isn’t real, is it?”

“No, dear.”

Even in a fake world, Himeko was so incredibly intelligent, probably having even figured it out before you did. 

“We didn’t win against Sunday?”

“No, everyone in Penacony is currently under the control of the Order.” She nursed her cup of coffee on her lap.

“Well then… I guess this is goodbye. I’ll see you in the real world.”

You leaned forward, kissing her on the cheek before setting down the cup of coffee and standing up. 

“I’ll see you too dear.”

You readied yourself, tensing the muscles in your arm as you pulled your arm back, righting your feet before swinging forward. A crack formed in existence, another swing, it expanded. Several more impacts before finally, the world exploded in white.

-

Alongside the rest of the Astral Express, all six of you readied your weapons, as the giant behemoth of a golden conductor leaned over the group.

Now it was time to reach the truth, in the Waking World…

Waves and waves of Mara-Struck, soldiers under your command, fallen and changed into these walking dolls for the Abundance to control. They begged for the sweet release of death, pleading for it all to be over. Apologizing over and over, begging for forgiveness as their bodies became prisons, as they attacked those that they swore to protect.

The last contact they had with your squadron was three hours ago. An outbreak of Mara-Struck caused by chemicals planted in the drinking water. The scientist had been apprehended already, but the effects were still being felt hours after. 

Jing Yuan paced in his room, awaiting further updates. You, his betrothed, was a respected commander, even with his hand in marriage you refused to become complacent, continuing your training and leadership on the battlefield. Yanqing was just returning from his mission, having been the one to find the source of the contaminant and lock up those involved in spreading it. 

“General, I have returned.” Yanqing greeted as he closed the door behind him, before quietly asking about your whereabouts, having not seen you. “They did not return with you? The last they told us, they’d be regrouping with you.” Jing Yuan questioned, a slight panic beginning to settle into his otherwise calm and lazy demeanor. “No sir, they didn’t relay such to me… last I heard they were clearing out the Mara-Stricken.” 

“And why was I not informed of their prolonged absence?” “I don’t know, general.” “It seems others are keeping vital information out of my hands. I’ll deal with it later, come, we must ensure the safety of them.” “Yes General!”

The two didn’t want to think of the possibilities, what might have happened to you in these few hours that you were dark. They weren’t arm-chair philosophers but men of action.

Stepping out, they marched out of the Seat of Divine Foresight, people instinctively moving out of their way. Yet one did, a newly instated assistant, one who was quiet but as they babbled on about how Jing Yuan shouldn’t leave, he knew why they truly were there. Nodding with a polite smile, he acknowledged their words before turning and continuing his march, signaling to a nearby Fu Xuan about the “assistant”. 

A group of guards quickly apprehended them as Jing Yuan and Yanqing left in search of you.  

-

Their first stop was your final ping before you went dark. Upon entering the area, the smell of bark and scent of iron filled their noses. Corpses were strewn about, mara-stricken and normal alike. None have the insignia of a Captain. 

Following the carnage, they begin to hear sounds of metal on metal, grunts, shrieks. Quickly hurrying, they turn the corner to see you, covered in blood and sweat, and a mob of mara-stricken soldiers surrounding you.

Quickly they rush in, with the power of the General of the Xianzhou Luofu and his Retainer, they carve a path through and quickly pull you from the center. With you out of the danger zone, Yanqing summons several blades, slashing at the horde with killing intent, slicing them in half as the blades whizzes through them.

As the Retainer takes out the horde, Jing Yuan turns to you, apologetic, “I’m so sorry, your whereabouts were hidden from me. I came as soon as I could.”

Still shell-shocked from finally being able to rest, you turn to Jing Yuan, softly pressing your knuckles against his jaw. 

“I knew you’d always come for me…”

Those were the last words you exchanged with him before passing out.

-

You woke up in an infirmary, several doctors rushing by, attending to other patients. Covered in bandages, the sterile smell of the room filled your senses. Looking around, you noticed Jing Yuan and Yanqing sleeping on the seats next to your bed. 

Your lips curved upward into a small smile as you took in the scene. Your boys, waiting for you to get better. 

[mixolya]

ᓚᘏᗢ — eternal echoes. rin itoshi.

synopsis: in which it doesn't matter which year it is, you and rin itoshi would always find back to each other.

warnings: death (it's a semi-happy ending). wc: 5,7k

note: i enjoyed writing this too much aaa!! sad letters are my thing 💔💔

year 1858. emperor and empress.

the first time you met him, you were royalty.

rin was the emperor of a vast, sun-drenched kingdom in ancient japan, his rule as unyielding as the mountains that bordered his lands. you were the daughter of a powerful daimyo, your marriage to him a strategic alliance meant to unite your families and bring stability to the region.

you did not expect to fall in love with him. but the moment you saw him standing at the altar, his eyes meeting yours, you felt it. that pull. that magnetic pull.

the wedding was a grand affair, held in the imperial palace. the air was thick with the scent of cherry blossoms, the sound of traditional instruments filling the courtyard. but all you could focus on was him. rin. the way his hand felt in yours, the way his voice sounded as he recited his vows, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the room.

"do you think we shall be reincarnated as a married couple as well?" you asked him one night, as you stood on the balcony of the palace, the moon casting a silver glow over the gardens below.

he didn't answer right away. instead, he reached for your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours. "perhaps," he said finally. "in another life."

you didn't know if he meant it, but it didn't matter. because in that moment, you knew you'd follow him anywhere.

your life together was full of challenges. political intrigue, wars, the weight of ruling an empire. but through it all, you had each other. and that was enough.

until it wasn't.

the war came suddenly, like a storm that had been brewing on the horizon for years. rin led his armies to the front lines, his determination as fierce as the fire in his eyes. you stayed behind, ruling in his absence, but your heart was with him.

when the news came, it was like the world has stopped.

rin had been gravely injured in battle.

you rushed to the battlefield, your heart racing. the sight that greeted you was one of chaos, smoke and blood and the cries of the wounded. but all you could see was him.

he was lying on a wooden bunk, his armor stained with blood, his face pale and fatigued. but when he saw you, he smiled. a smile, a faint smile, but it was enough.

"you have come," he said, his voice weak but filled with warmth.

"how could i have stayed away?," you asked, your voice breaking as you knelt beside him.

he reached for your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours. "forgive me," he whispered.

"do not," you said, tears streaming down your face. "do not apologize. only stay with me."

silence stretched between you before he spoke. instead, his eyes locked onto yours, searching for an answer. "in another life," he said finally. "in another life, i shall seek thee out and find thee once more."

and then, as the tears fell and the world faded away, he was gone.

you held him in your arms, the weight of his body a cruel reminder of what you had lost. but even as the pain threatened to consume you, you held on to his words.

"and i shall find thee too," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper.

year 1898. true fate.

the second time, you were philosophers.

you met in the bustling streets of kyoto, the city alive with the energy of scholars and seekers, all drawn to the ancient capital in pursuit of wisdom. you had come to study under a renowned master, your heart set on unraveling the mysterious of existence. but it wasn't the teachings of your mentor that would change your life. it was him.

rin.

he was standing on a wooden platform in the heart of the marketplace, his voice flowing smoothly over the crowd’s murmurs. rin's words were sharp, thougtful, cutting through the noise with an intensity that demanded attention. you stopped to listen, drawn not just by the sound of his voice but by the way he carried himself.

"the universe is not confined to our understanding," he said, scanning the crowd. "it exists beyond our perceptions, beyond our fears, beyond our desires. to seek truth is to acknowledge that we may never grasp it."

the crowd murmured, some nodding in agreement, others shaking their heads in dissent. but you stood there, mesmerized and fascinated.

when the lecture ended, you approached him, your hands clutching the scrolls you had been carrying. "your words," you began, your voice trembling slightly, "they have struck a chord within me."

he turned to you. "did they truly?"

you nodded, your throat suddenly dry. "indeed, i have long held that truth is not an object to be possessed, but a pursuit we must forever follow."

a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "you are different," he said.

"what is it you mean?"

"most people come to these debates with the intent to prove their righteousness," he said. "you, however, came to listen."

you felt your cheeks flushed, but you held his gaze. "i believe there is more to be learned from the questions we ask than from the answers we claim to have."

he studied you for a moment, his eyes, those beautiful eyes, searching yours. then he nodded, as if he had found something he was looking for. "come with me," he said.

you followed him to a quiet spot by the kamo river, where the water reflected the lanterns that lined the banks. the night was cool, the air filled with the soft chirping of crickets and the distant sound of laughter. you sat beside him on the grass, the silence between you comfortable, almost familiar.

"do you believe in fate?" you asked after a while, your voice soft.

no answer from him. instead, he looked out at the river, his expression thoughtful. "i believe in choices, yes," he said finally. "but i also hold that some things are simply inevitable."

"like what?"

he turned to you, his eyes meeting yours. "like this," he said.

your breath caught in your throat. "what do you mean?"

"i mean," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, "it is as if i have known you before. as though we have spoken these words a thousand times, across a thousand different lives."

"do you think such thing is possible?" you asked, your voice trembling. "to find one another again, in another life?"

"yes."

year 1924. poetry lives forever.

the third time, you were writers.

you met in a small, dimly lit café tucked away in the heart of milan. the air smelled of coffee and old books, and the sound of rain tapping against the windows filled the silence. he sat at a corner table, his hair falling into his eyes as he scribbled furiously in a notebook.

you noticed him immediately. not just because he was beautiful, though he was, but because there was something about him that felt familiar.

you didn't mean to approach him. but when you dropped your pen and it rolled to his feet, he looked up, and your eyes met. for a moment, the world stopped.

"yours?" he asked, holding up the pen.

you nodded. "thank you."

he handed it to you, his fingers brushing against yours.

"i am rin," he said, his voice low.

you told him your name, and he smiled.

that was the beginning.

you started meeting at the café every day. he was working on a novel, and you were writing poetry. at first, you talked about your work, his characters, your metaphors, the way words could build worlds. but soon, the conversations turned deeper. you talked about life, about dreams, about the things that kept you up at night.

"do you ever feel, as though you are endlessly searching for something, though you cannot name it?" you asked him one evening, as the two of you sat by the window, the rain still falling outside.

he looked at you. "all the time," he said. "yet i do not know what it is."

you didn't know either. but you knew that being with him felt like coming home.

one day, you showed him a poem you had written. it was about reincarnation, about the idea that souls find each other again and again, across lifetimes.

"i'll find you in another life," you read aloud, your voice trembling slightly. "no matter where you are, no matter who you become, i'll find you."

when you finished, you looked up at him, scared of his reaction. he was silent for a long time. what did he think?

"how beautiful," he said finally, his voice low.

you felt your cheeks flush. "thank you."

he reached for your notebook, his fingers brushing against yours. "may i read it once more?"

you nodded, handing it to him. he read the poem slowly, his eyes scanning the words as if committing them to memory. when he finished, he looked up at you.

"how curious. i, too, write of reincarnation," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"you do?"

he nodded. "it speaks of two souls bound by an eternal pull, always finding one another, lifetime after lifetime. they do not always recall their past encounters, but the connection that never fades."

your breath caught in your throat. "do they ever uncover the reason?"

he looked out the window, his demeanor reflective. "i believe it is because they are destined to be together," he said finally. "though first they must release all that holds them apart."

you felt your chest tighten. "do you think such thing is possible?"

he turned to you, his eyes meeting yours. "i do not know," he said. "but i believe it is worth seeking, with all that i am."

year 1941. childhood best friends.

the fourth time, you were childhood friends.

it was 1941, in a calm, tiny city. the world was on the brink of war, but in your small corner of the world, life was simple. rin and you grew up next door to each other, your lives intertwined from the moment you could walk.

you spent your days exploring the woods behind your houses, building forts out of fallen branches, and chasing fireflies as the sun dipped below the horizon. rin was quiet, even then, but he had a way of making you feel like you were the only person in the world.

"do you think we will always be friends?" you asked him one summer evening, as the two of you lay on the grass, the stars stretching out above you.

he reached for your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours before answering.

"i think we will always be more than friends," he said finally.

as the war loomed closer, the atmosphere in your small town grew tense. boys you had grown up with began to enlist, their faces filled with a mixture of fear and determination.

rin, however, stayed behind. at least for a while.

"are you not going? why?" you asked him one evening, as the two of you sat on the porch swing, the sound of crickets filling the air.

he looked out at the horizon. "i don't know," he said. "i just feel like i am supposed to be here."

but eventually, the call to duty became too strong to ignore. the day told you he was enlisting, the world seemed to stop.

"i have to go," he said, his voice steady but his eyes betraying the weight of his decision.

you felt your chest tighten. "i will write to you," you said, tears slipping. "every day."

he smiled. "i will write back," he promised.

the letters started almost immediately.

rin's first letter arrived just a few weeks after he left. it was short, just a few lines scribbled on a piece of paper, but it was enough to make your heart soar.

"dear y/n,

i miss your voice. the nights here are too quiet, and i hate it.

are you doing okay? tell my parents i am fine, even if it is a lie. tell me about home, about anything. just write to me.

i miss you. more than i should.

rin."

you wrote back immediately, pouring your heart onto the page.

"beloved rin,

thank you for keeping your promise, but it feels so empty without you. the town is the same, yet it feels like a ghost town - maybe it is just me. there are more women than men, though. did they all enlist, too? i do not remember. i only remember you.

school is dull without you. who should i tell about the stars now? i don't even know what is happening in the world anymore. only that you are not here.

every night, i look at the stars and wish for you to come back.

promise me you will.

please come back. i miss you. so much.

sincerely,

y/n"

his letters became your lifeline. they were filled with stories of the other soldiers, of the places he had seen, of the things he had learned. but they were also filled with something else. something deeper, something that made your chest ache.

"dear y/n,

i dreamt of you last night. even though my nights are restless, i forced myself to sleep for a few minutes, and there you were - just like always. we were home again, lying on the grass, watching the stars. you were talking, but i do not remember what you said.

i only remember the way you looked at me, the way the night felt warm, like nothing in the world could do anything to us.

it felt real. too real. like we had done it before, maybe in another life. maybe in a life where i never had to leave.

i miss you too. more than i can say. more than i should.

i will come back.

rin."

you wrote back, your hands trembling as you held the pen.

"my beloved rin,

i dreamt of you too. maybe it is fate. maybe we were always meant to find each other, in this life or another. i like to think that no matter where we go, no matter how far, we will always find our way back. don't you think so too?

i can not wait to see you again. but you did not promise me you would come back. you almost did, but not quite. do it next time, okay? you would not want me to be sad, would you?

i love you i miss you more than words can hold. some nights, it feels unbearable.

sincerely,

y/n"

but then, one day, the letters stopped.

at first, you told yourself it was just the mail being delayed. but as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, the silence became unbearable.

you wrote to him every day, your letters filled with hope and fear and longing. but there was no response.

"my beloved rin,

it has been weeks since your last letter, and every passing day feels like an eternity. i tell myself that you are just busy, that the war keeps you from writing, that the mail is slow. but the silence is louder than any excuse i can make for you. and maybe, just maybe, you have chosen it.

i tell myself a thousand little lies just to keep my heart from breaking, but i think it is already shattered.

i do not know if you are safe. i do not know if you are cold or hungry, if you have enough to eat, if you have made friends or if you are alone. i do not know if you still think of me. if, in the quiet moments between gunfire and marching orders, you close your eyes and see my face the way i see yours every time i close mine.

i miss you. i miss you in ways that feel unbearable, in ways that make it hard to breathe. i miss your voice, the way it could turn the worst days into something softer. i miss your laugh, the one you used to hide behind your hand when i said something ridiculous. i miss the way you used to hold me, like i was something precious, something you could not bear to lose. and yet here i am. lost. left behind. abandoned to empty nights and unanswered letters.

i still look at the stars, rin. every night. just like we used to. i try to find the constellations you loved, the ones you traced with your fingers against the sky, whispering their names like a prayer. and sometimes, for just a moment, i let myself believe that maybe you are looking at them too. that maybe, somewhere across this vast, war-torn world, you remember me.

but what if you do not? what if the war has changed you? what if the boy i love has been swallowed by something i will never understand? what if i am writing to someone who no longer exists?

i want to be angry with you. i want to scream and curse your name for leaving me behind, for choosing this war over me, for breaking every promise you ever made. you once swore you would never leave me, do you remember that? do you remember pressing your forehead against mine and whispering, "always. no matter what."

was that a lie, rin? or did you just not think i was worth staying for?

i know you wanted to be someone great. i know you thought enlisting would make you a man, that it would give your life purpose. but what about our life? did it ever hold any meaning for you? or was i just a quiet part of a life you were always meant to outgrow?

i try to be strong. i try to go about my days as if i am not coming apart at the seams. but everything reminds me of you. the sounds of boots against the pavement. the scent of fresh rain on the earth. the way the wind moves through the trees.

i wish i would have told you my feelings i hold for you. i wish i would have told you how much i love you and how you should not go to the war. that you are walking into death.

i have to ask. do you miss me at all? or has the war taken even that from you?

i do not know how much longer i can do this. how much longer i can keep waiting for letters that may never come, for a love that may no longer exist, for a boy who may already be gone. i do not know if you are alive, and that uncertainty is eating me alive, rin.

but if you are alive. if you are still out there, still breathing, still the same boy who once swore we would always be together. please. please write back. even if it is just to tell me that i no longer have a place in your heart. at least then, i will know to stop waiting.

with all the love i have left,

y/n"

but there was no response.

"do you think he is okay?" you asked your mother one evening, your voice trembling.

she didn't answer right away. instead, she reached for your hand, her fingers intertwining with yours. "i don't know, dear," she said finally. "but i think he would want you to keep living."

you didn't know what to say to that. but as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, you began to understand.

one night, as you lay on the grass, it felt like rin was laying right beside you.

"i will find you," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. "in another life, i will find you again."

and as the tears fell and the world faded away, you knew it was true.

year 1997. poetry truly lives forever.

the fifth time, you were desk mates.

the world felt both vast and small at the same time. you were both in high school, sitting in a classroom that smelled like chalk dust and old books. the desks were arranged in neat rows, and you found yourself seated next to him. rin itoshi. he was quiet, always scribbling in a notebook, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he focused on whatever he was writing. you didn't know much about him, but there was something about him, but it seemed like you couldn't figure that out.

the teacher stood at the front of the room, holding a worn anthology of poetry. "today," she said, her voice crisp and clear, "we will be analyzing a poem by y/n l/n, a poet from the 1920s. y/n, since you share her name, why don't you read it aloud for us?"

of course you have to read it a loud. you were named after the poet. your mother loved her since she was a kid. still, your heart skipped a beat. you weren't used to being called on, especially not in front of the whole class. but you stood up, clutching the book in your hands, and began to read.

"i'll find you in another life," you read aloud, your voice trembling slightly. "no matter where you are, no matter who you become, i'll find you. across lifetimes, across oceans, across the stars. i'll find you."

the room was silent when you finished. you glanced up, your eyes instinctively finding rin's. he was staring at you, his expression unreadable, but there was something in his eyes, almost unsettling.

"thank you, y/n," your teacher said, breaking the silence. "now, let's discuss the themes of the poem. what do you think the poet is trying to convey?"

the class erupted into chatter, but you couldn't focus. you kept glancing at rin, who was now scribbling furiously in his notebook. when the bell rang, you gathered your things, but before you could leave, rin stopped you.

"that poem," he said, his voice low. "it's familiar."

you blinked, surprised. "familiar?"

he hesitated, then opened his notebook and handed it to you. inside were pages filled with his handwriting. lines and lines of poetry, all about reincarnation.

"i dreamt of you last night," one line read. "not as you are now, but as you were before. in another life, in another time, i knew you."

your breath caught in your throat. "you're writing about reincarnation too?"

he nodded, his dark eyes searching yours. "yeah. i don't know why, but it's like i can't stop thinking about it. about the idea that we've lived before. that we have met before."

you didn't know what to say. the poem you had just read, the words rin had written. it all felt too coincidental, too real.

"do you think it's possible?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. "to find someone again, in another life?"

"i don't know," he said. "but if it is... i think i would find you."

your chest tightened, your heart pounding in your chest. "and if you did?"

he smiled. "i'd tell you the same thing i'm telling you now."

"what's that?"

"i'm glad i found you."

from that day on, the two of you became inseparable. you spent hours after school in the library, analyzing poems and sharing your own writing. rin's notebook became a treasure trove of stories about lifetimes and love, and you found yourself drawn to his words - and to him.

one day, as the two of you sat under a tree in the school courtyard, rin turned to you, his expression serious.

"would you try to find me in another life? if i would die today?" he asked.

you looked at him, surprised. "why would you say such things?"

"would you?" he ignored your question, his gaze unwavering, determined to get an answer out of you.

the weight of his question hung in the air, heavy and unrelenting. you hesitated. but then you looked into his eyes - those dark, intense eyes that always seemed to see right through you - and you knew your answer.

"yes," you said, your voice firm despite the tremor in your chest. "yes, rin, i would."

for a moment, he didn't respond. he just stared at you. then, without warning, he leaned in, his hand cupping your cheek as his lip met yours.

the kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if he was afraid you might pull away. but when you didn't, when you leaned into him instead, your hands gripping the front of his shirt, it deepened. deepened, becoming something more. something desperate, something aching, something that felt like it had been building for lifetimes.

when he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin.

"good," he whispered, his voice rough. "because i'd find you too. no matter what."

you didn't know what to answer, but you didn't need to. because in that moment, under the shade of the tree with the sound of the wind rustling through the leaves, you knew it was true.

no matter how many lives you lived, no matter how many times you had to start over, you would always find each other.

you thought.

year 1978. strangers.

the sixth time, you were strangers on a train.

it was a cold winter morning, and the train was packed with commuters. you sat by the window, your breath fogging up the glass as you stared out at the blur of snow-covered buildings rushing past. the rhythmic clatter of the train on the tracks was soothing, almost hypnotic, and you let yourself drift, your thoughts wandering.

that's when you saw him.

he was sitting across the aisle, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he stared down at a book. there was something about him - you feel like you know him, but this was your first time seeing him.

who was he?

you found yourself glancing at him more than once, your heart skipping a beat every time he turned a page or adjusted his scarf.

you didn't know why, but you felt drawn to him. like a magnet pulling you closer, even though you were sitting perfectly still.

days turned into weeks, and you began to notice him every morning. he always sat in the same spot, always reading, always quiet. you never spoke, but sometimes your eyes would meet, and for a brief moment, it felt like you knew each other for decades.

one morning, the train was unusually empty. you sat in your usual seat, and to your surprise, he sat down across from you.

"mind if i sit here?" he asked, his voice low and smooth.

you shook your head, your heart racing. "no, not at all."

for a while, neither of you spoke. he went back to his book, and you pretended to focus on yours. but then, out of nowhere, he looked up and said, "do we know each other?"

you blinked, surprised. "i don't think so, why?"

he hesitated, then closed his book and set it aside. "i don't know, i feel like we know each other from somewhere."

"oh," you said, as the train neared your station. "i have to leave. i'll see you around," you smiled at him before hurrying out the train.

the next morning, he wasn't there.

you waited, your heart sinking as the train pulled into the station and he didn't appear. the days turned into weeks, and still, there was no sign of him.

you didn't know why, but it felt like a piece of you was missing.

year 2025. bury your feelings.

the seventh time, you were his manager, though neither of you was happy about it.

rin itoshi was a force of nature on the soccer field, a prodigy who had no patience for rules, authority, or anyone telling him what to do. he'd gone through managers like water, firing them one after another, until his mother - a woman as formidable as she was elegant - decided enough was enough.

that's where you came in.

you were the daughter of a close family friend, a rising star in sports management with a reputation for being as stubborn as you were brilliant. when rin's mother assigned you to be his manager, you knew it wouldn't be easy. but you also knew you couldn't say no.

your first meeting was a disaster.

rin stormed into the sleek, modern office of the team's headquarters, his dark eyes blazing with barely contained fury.

"i don't need a manager," he snapped, his voice low and dangerous.

you didn't flinch. "good thing i'm not here to ask for your permission, then."

he glared at you, his jaw tightening. "you think you can handle this just because you're oh-so-brilliant?"

you met his gaze without hesitation. "i know it."

from that day on, your interactions were a battlefield. you pushed him harder than anyone ever had, demanding perfection in every drill, every practice, every match. he resisted at every turn, his pride bristling at the idea of someone telling him what to do.

"you're not my boss," he stared at you after one particularly intense practice session.

"you're right," you shot back, your voice sharp. "i'm the person who's going to make sure you don't waste your talent. whether you like it or not. i promised your parents."

he didn't respond, but the look he gave you could have melted steel.

despite the tension, there were brief moments when you saw something beneath the surface. like when he stayed late after practice, perfecting a shot until his hands were raw and his breath came in ragged gasps. or when he quietly helped a younger player with his technique, his usual arrogance replaced by something softer. every time, you were there, watching him.

one night, someone knocked at your apartment door.

you didn't want to open the door. it was late. too late for anyone to be standing in front of your door. but when you peeked through the peephole and saw rin standing there, you knew it was going to be one of those nights.

you took a deep breath and pulled the door open, ready for another round of heated arguments, only to freeze when you saw him.

he was leaning against the doorframe, his duffle bag hanging loosely from one hand, his other clutching his phone. his usually perfect hair was a mess, dark strands sticking to his forehead, and his pale face looked like he hadn't slept in days.

"what?" you asked, crossing your arms, though you couldn't help but noticed how his eyes, usually sharp and focused, were dull with exhaustion.

"i forgot my keys," he muttered, voice hoarse and rough. "can't get into my place, and i have no one to call."

you narrowed your eyes at him. "you expect me to let you in? just like that?"

rin's lips twisted in a familiar, defiant smirk, but it didn't reach his eyes. "what's the alternative? i sleep in my car?"

you felt the familiar flare of irritation rise up within you. you hated the way he always seemed to get under your skin. the way he acted like he was always one step ahead. but when you took a second look at him, pale, tired, and standing in your doorway like he was too exhausted to even be annoyed with you anymore, you felt a sudden, unwanted pang of sympathy.

"fine," you said, stepping aside reluctantly.

he stepped inside, shoulders sagging slightly as he dropped his bag by the door. there was a strange tension between you both as he stands there, not making eye contact, like neither of you knew what to say next.

the silence stretched, thick with the usual animosity, but there was something else hanging in the air, something you couldn't quite place.

"i didn't think you'd actually let me in," he muttered, looking at the floor.

you shrugged, turning toward the kitchen. "i didn’t think you’d show up at all. it’s not like we’re best friends, rin.”

you both knew it’s not the full truth. you had fought tooth and nail from the moment his mother handed him over to you as his manager, but somewhere along the way, the constant bickering had turned into something else. a little more tolerance. a little more understanding.

still, you couldn't let him off the hook that easily.

“you really should’ve called sae,” you added, tossing a bottle of water his way.

he caught it, staring at it for a second before his lips quirked upward, just a little. “are you teasing me?”

you almost smiled at that, despite yourself. “no.”

he sank into the couch, closing his eyes and leaning back, his exhaustion finally catching up with him. you could see it now. the way his shoulders were tense, the way his hands were trembling just a little as he took a sip of water.

it was almost strange, seeing him like this. the usual confident, untouchable athlete is gone, replaced by someone who looked human, vulnerable even. it made the usual anger between you feel a little more fragile, like it could break at any moment.

“do you need anything else?” you asked, trying to hide the slight softness in your voice.

rin shook his head, not opening his eyes. “just don’t make me go back out there. i don’t know where else to go.”

there was a heaviness in his words. and for the briefest moment, you thought about it, about how much of him had been buried beneath the mask of a football star. but you didn’t dwell on it.

you stepped back, pretending not to hear the vulnerability in his tone. “don’t get comfortable. you’re only staying for the night. i have a ton of work to do, and i'm not babysitting you.”

rin huffed out a laugh, even though it’s weak. “babysitting me? despite you being my manager, i'm still older than you.”

the tension between you two simmered beneath the surface. but for the first time, there was a flicker of something else in his eyes. it was fleeting, barely noticeable, but you caught it.

it was something like trust. or maybe need.

you couldn't tell.

but for now, you let him stay. and when you finally turned away to leave the room, you thought about how this felt like there was something the universe tried to tell you both.

[tarot-dreams]

The Empress.

Let today be your day of awakening. Be rejuvenated by the light. Cast away the struggles of yesterday, for just as they hold no claim over today, so too do they hold no claim over you. Be guided by the song of Venus. Find tranquility within her voice. Let passion and desire be the fire that burns within your heart. Let strength and justice be your shield and armor. Kindred souls await. This path is one you will not walk alone.

[prince-kallisto]

I am thinking about the Raverne who loved humanity

Despite the growing conflict and his wife’s hatred of humans, Raverne ventured out for the sake of diplomacy and saw something more out there. Something beyond human greed and cruelty, beyond the stench of oil and metal.

Human lives were as ethereal as a silk thread, weaving tapestries of their ancestors and their children. In the time it took for his kind to walk, a human child would grow into man, and craft wonders born from curiosity alone.

Who knows how Raverne first learned the Common Language. Perhaps he pored over human scrolls with scholars advising him over his shoulder. Perhaps the children giggled at his clumsy attempt of conversing with them, before scribbling the alphabet into the dirt with a twig- tongues sticking out from concentration. The first word the little ones taught him was “bird.”

Raverne did not teach himself despite Lilia’s claims, oh no. Far from it. A language he foresaw a future of peace in had to be taught by the humans themselves. To posses that degree of vulnerability was a danger in their world, but in order to be taught, one had to strip their notion of ‘normalcy.’ And so, Raverne bore his soul to humanity’s teachings. He knelt beside the drunken man on the street corner, beside an Empress, beside the mother feeding her babe. He trailed after the shepherd, gossiped with the merchant, listened to the elderly on their death bed. Each and every single human had their own story to tell, rich with a vocabulary different from the next.

Now carrying the torch, Raverne passed down the flames of knowledge to his fellow soldiers, to students, to Lilia. Over the years, schools could eventually educate young Fae the Common Language to the point of fluency. The fae would now carry this language and pass it on to their children, their grandchildren- for as many centuries it would take Fae and human to live hand-in-hand.

And when the war began, many of his people fell in battle. Villages raided, mines collapsed into rubble. A field of sawed trunks replaced the forests he, Lilia, and Meleanor used to play in. The rivers the water fairies once cultivated now reeked of oil. The rainwater satiated his thirst more than that gunk. Scraps of armor and cloth littered the war grounds. His body cried out from the day of battle, but he would bear the weight of his beloved companions on his shoulders one last time to grant them a proper resting place.

And in the moment that he too fell in battle, writhing in the agony as his wings were to be stolen as a trophy, Raverne could not yet being himself to despise humanity.

He thought of those small voices pleading if they could touch his iridescent feathers just once. Of the little ones whose eyes shone in wonder at his wings- the span of which were so large, that six or seven children could huddle within as if it were their secret playhouse. Why, Raverne recalled the elderly, the ones who took his hands in their calloused, frail ones, marveling at the sight of an “angel” before them. Their faces were wonderfully affected by time in a way his never would, with wrinkles and age spots and wisps of white hair. As blood puddled around him, the scent of food wafted through his memories. How generous the stall owners were, who insistently plated extra food onto his plate- meals crafted from hands that knew the touch of fire.

In his weakening breath, Raverne marveled at the beauty of humanity. Oh yes, it was certainly cruel, trashed with atrocities he could never even fathomed before. But at the heart of it lay a loud resilience. The sound of joy from young and old, dancing in their flowing garbs in their town square. Humans laughing and whooping through the strain of their feet hitting the ground in a rhythm, sweat dripping down their foreheads. Even through the vilest soldiers, the song of peace passed down through generations of humanity thrived still.

And Raverne prayed his beloved boy would one day be invited to sing too.

[asundries]

WEATHERED, WHETHER WARMED OR SEARED. ⏜⠀ . ⠀⟡

STARRING… ─ firefly & gn reader. ✁ ... ❝ She knew you’d say that, too. You always do, as if it is a new, wondrous revelation each time, not a habit both of you have fallen into time and time again (just as that very sentence is as well—again and again. She hears you coming and then she can hear it in her mind, far sooner than you actually speak it. I thought I’d find you here. You knew you’d find her here). ❞ CONTAINS... ─ 2.1k words. bittersweet. intended as platonic. this is a secret santa fic for the wonderful @singularity-sam — i hope you have an amazing day filled with whimsy and cheer!! i haven’t written for firefly before, so i hope i did her justice. (i guess it’s a perfect time to start — merry christmas and happy rerun day to her as well!!)

Firefly is no stranger to extremes. 

First, there is the cold. 

Her “birth”, unnatural. Her bones felt like metal buried, rain-worn, marrow soft and skin so fragile, barely fully formed by the time her face breached the world. The artificiality of the engineered amniotic fluid she was adrift in for her first many moments was cold, so too the walls of that false egg, and the floor beneath her feet, and the exoskeleton she is ill-fitted with, and the spindly long-nailed fingers of the Empress, the first living thing she ever touched.

Nothing alive should be that cold, really. And neither should any start of life be so frigid and impersonal. 

It stays cold for a while. Then, engulfing, all-encompassing, there is the hot laving of fire. 

The stars do not stand still, nor are they unyielding. Infinitely, they dance and sway behind the rippling of the hot air rising off her burning world. Fyreflies are vastly brighter, to her, yet they emit no warmth. The stars must be freezing, too. 

There is never anything between this hot and cold. There is no soothing cool, and no comforting warmth, and anything lukewarm is simply the manifestation of her sensation’s atrophy under the relentless pressure of frigidity or torrid heat. Only ever extremes.

— —

Firefly’s body always hurts a bit more when winter comes. There is little she can do to warm herself, really; there is the cold metal of her armor and the enveloping flames of activating it, but that is only painful in another way. 

Even so, it’s more bearable in the comfort of a home. There will forever be a lingering ache, but the heat from a fireplace, from the warmth of people she’s begun to—in her mind only—call family, is much better than the all-engulfing flames she knows otherwise. She sits back on the couch and stares holes into the smoldering wood. 

On the days where Firefly can’t do much, she reminisces. 

The Stellaron Hunters, namely you, were the first lukewarm thing that she had ever felt. It’s a strange comparison to make—happiness and safety with something so seemingly mediocre, but it works. The twists and turns of different people, like moods, like temperatures—Kafka’s welcoming, warm; Blade’s taciturnity, cool; Elio’s… kindness, in his offer, a bit of both; Silver Wolf’s playfulness (fun, if a little tiring), warm again, for the most part; your… well, she didn’t know what to make of you at first, so she couldn’t say for sure—without ever falling too far into extremes. 

It’s funny, really, how such a bland feeling brought her such comfort; the sensation of nothing at all, yet no sort of emptiness to be found. It was nothing like that constricting egg, or the hard armored body she typically resides in. There is a softness in the holding of hands, in the holding of people, so unlike the harsh conditions of her life as it has been. She’s content.

“How are you doing?” you ask, peeking your head in through the cracked-open door. 

Firefly turns to look at you. “I’m okay, thank you.”

Her eyes immediately fall from your face to the tray you’re carrying. It’s wooden, handles notched in the sides, filled with food and drink (namely, two mugs of what she assumes is hot cocoa, one with marshmallows and the other with whipped cream), and decorated with festive additions on every square inch of space that is not already occupied by some sort of snack. It’s overkill, but it’s sweet. She smiles, and wonders how you managed to bring it all the way here without spilling something.

You set the tray down on the coffee table. She glances at it briefly—she doesn’t need to eat or drink much, but the gesture is kind, and she appreciates the thought nonetheless.

“Do you feel any better?” you ask, gently nudging the blanket she’s using closer to her so you can sit. She pulls her legs back a bit to give you more room. The couch dips beneath your weight and pulls her a bit closer anyway.

“I’m still sort of tired,” she says, picking up her drink and blowing on it. “But I do, a little.”

You smile. “That’s good. You worked hard. You deserve the rest.”

When she brings it to her mouth to take a sip, it’s just as she suspected—hot chocolate, no bitterness at all, nearly even too sweet. But it’s not hot, really—the temperature is perfect. Warm. 

——

Firefly was surprised the day she learned stars burned. If fyreflies gave off no warmth, yet still shone brighter than the sun, then stars surely paled in comparison to their beauty—such gentle, giving light, without the need for any destruction at all. A living thing. Fleeting. 

She knows stars will burn out, too. But it’s much slower. And you cannot hold a star in your hand, cannot feel a star illuminating every proof-of-having-lived line of your open palm, cannot choose whether to crush it or hold it close. Some say the beauty of life lies in the ephemerality of it. Sometimes Firefly agrees. Other times she thinks about how horribly unfair that is, that beautiful things should be allowed to last forever, that fyreflies should not die three days after their creation, that flowers should not wilt the moment they are cut from the stem. But that is only two extremes. Human life is much more intricate. The line of thought is irrational regardless.

She tilts her head back and lets her sight be swallowed by the darkness of the light-polluted sky. She narrows her eyes, gaze a little blurry focused so far away, and thinks she would prefer the company of a fyrefly to the stars. But they don’t exist for her anymore, not where she is now; they are fleeting, just as she is, and most perished in that all-engulfing flame. Though she moves around so very much, she has never seen another anywhere else in recent years. 

So, in their absence, she sits on the roof every night and stares out—the city lights of wherever she’s staying often obscure them, render them hazy in the swirl of candied ink and over-used paper, but she swears something in their scattered, hand-written lines speak to her regardless. Like the purpose-filled existence of every short-lived fyrefly, burning brightly before its destined end. 

The harsh scent of gasoline from the city is cloying, even from afar on the lone rooftop. The thickness of it is like stagnant smoke in her lungs, but the wintry night air flowing in from somewhere farther away—almost scentless, but damp with melted snow and crisp with re-forming frost—washes it away until it’s nothing but a distant memory. 

Snowfall is a lot like the cascade of ash. Hot enough and the heat feels frigid, freezing enough and the cold feels like fire—either way, what they have in common, hand-in-hand, face-to-face, is that they are extremes. Two sides of the same coin. The wind blows her hair away from her face, and as it carries in more snow-sodden clouds for the wintry sky to cry from, Firefly feels a snowflake alight upon her nose.

She brushes it away, and tears her gaze from the vastness of it all. She takes a deep breath and looks towards the small-in-comparison harbor instead. She watches the boats go by, the dancing light on their decks, the waving sky’s reflections in their wake, muted stars rippling like echoes in the hull-churned surface. It can be lonely, but it’s also peaceful, calming in a way nothing else is, from summer’s cloying night heat to winter’s biting cold, and back and forth, and again, and again. It’s become routine, no matter the city. You joining her has, too. (Which may, admittedly, be the reason it isn’t so lonely at all.)

Firefly wrings her fingers out, a bit cold by now, sighs, and cracks her knuckles one by one. She hears your footsteps along the rainswept roof long before she sees you.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

She knew you’d say that, too. You always do, as if it is a new, wondrous revelation each time, not a habit both of you have fallen into time and time again (just as that very sentence is as well—again and again. She hears you coming and then she can hear it in her mind, far sooner than you actually speak it. I thought I’d find you here. You knew you’d find her here).

She smiles. “You always do.”

There is no part of the script that says anything of this, implicit or explicit, but it happens over and over again regardless: Firefly steps out onto the roof to watch the stars, and you follow approximately fifteen minutes later, just in time for her to begin to feel the chill. (Though she could easily don her armor and chase the cold away herself, she finds that same familiar comfort in allowing you to do it for her.) You say “I knew I’d find you here”, and she says “You always do.” 

Or something similar, of course, as this was indeed not part of the script. Sometimes the same, sometimes with a roughness in your voice that comes only with the lingering disruption of sleep, sometimes a bit more exasperated if she promised to stay inside that night to rest. Either way, you are never upset for long, really.

“It’s windy,” you say, slowly sitting yourself down next to her, careful not to slip on the shingles. “And wet. You’re not cold?”

The unmistakable hint of disdain for the weather in your voice makes Firefly laugh. 

“Cold? A little.”

You take that as an excuse to inch closer. She doesn’t mind. Not at all.

You take her hand, fingers running over her cold ones, clutching them between your palms until you seem satisfied that they’re warmed. Even then, you continue to hold her.

“They’re pretty,” you murmur, gaze casted up at the little sliver of sky still visible through the encroaching clouds. “The stars.”

She nods. “They are. I wish you could see a Fyrefly—they’re sort of like little stars. They’re truly beautiful.”

You turn to her, a grin on your face. “…Aren’t you one?” 

“That’s… not what I meant.”

“I know. But you light up a room enough to be one, I’d say.”

She rolls her eyes, but that smile, that genuinely warm one that comes with the breaking off of a laugh, still tugs at the corners of her mouth. “Light up a room? What, with Sam’s flames?”

“Mhm. Yeah, totally.”

Your head falls against her shoulders, your arms encircling her side. She lets her cold cheek rest against your hair. It’s a strange feeling, no matter how many times it happens, no matter how many quiet nights you and her spend like this, so closely entwined, the same sky envisioned—it surprises her each time, the gentleness of it, the tenderness she feels in your arms. It’s soft, in contrast to tile floors and metal bodies and spindly fingers. The wind blows harder, and with it comes more snow in flurries, tangling in her hair and settling on her skin, melting upon it. You giggle softly, undeterred, and hug her tighter. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to go back inside?” she asks when you begin to shiver. “I don’t think the snow is going to stop anytime soon.”

“Not until you do.”

“You seem colder than me, though.”

“So?”

“So… why stay out here with me? I don’t want you to freeze.”

You sigh, eyes fluttering closed. A snowflake lands on your eyelash, and she resists the urge to brush it away. “You’ve asked that before.”

“I know,” she says. “You’ve never answered.”

You look up at her then.

“Because I want to, Firefly.”

And it has nothing to do with destiny. Nothing about these moments were ever scripted, nor would they ever be. It was your choice, and it was hers, time and time again. That’s what made it so wonderful.

She knows she should go back inside soon, that she should settle back into her armor and truly rest—she’s been out of it for a while, and it’s probably taking a toll, and she should allow her body to recuperate. But that should be on her terms, too. And, strangely, she’s in a lot less pain than normal, so, for now…

“Can we stay here a bit longer?”

“Of course.”

In your presence, the cold eases just a bit, and when you hold her… Even outside in the midst of winter, Firefly feels something akin to warmth. 

With you, it’s never in the extremes.

[jpitha]

Between the Black and Grey 51

First / Previous / Next

Eternity was a large ship, but it was still dwarfed by the Gren station. With a puff of thrusters, and a clang of hulls, the Dreadnought made contact.

The boarding party stood a few meters from the sally port. The shock troops mirror polished, black armored pressure suits stood in opposition to Fen's Empress armor. Hers was pure white with gold and blue accents, almost like porcelain.

"I must reiterate, Empress, you don't need to-" The commander started to speak.

"Regardless, I am coming. This was my home. I know this place better than any of your maps. Fen's body language was hidden by her armored pressure suit and solid white helmet, but the commander could hear the warning in her tone. She shifted her battle rifle slightly.

"O-of course, Empress. Still, it is our responsibility to protect you. You will be safest aboard Eternity."

"Your responsibilities are to capture Tam'itarr alive and ensure the survival of your team. Leave me to me."

The commander saluted, and said nothing.

Fen turned towards the sally port. All of her Dreadnoughts had them in a few strategic locations. Ships had missiles, slug throwers, and exawatt laser batteries, but sometimes they had to board ships and capture them. It looked like a regular airlock, except the outer door was replaced by high speed cutters. The ship would make physical contact with the object to be boarded, and the cutters would force an opening, allowing boarders to attack in person.

After a few minutes of cutting, the light over the port started flashing yellow. "Get ready," the commander shouted. "Remember, keep collateral damage to a minimum, do not go wild. We're here to capture someone, not take over the station. Guard the Empress."

The light turned green, there was a loud buzz of an alarm, and the sally port snapped open. Everyone's rifles snapped up and they entered the station.

The captain had chosen their location well. They were attached midway down the station, in a random corridor. Fen had been slightly worried that they would open up right inside one of the common areas and would be under attack immediately, but she had nothing to worry about.

It was… odd. Fen wasn't sure what she was expecting, but it wasn't this. After exiting the hall, Fen was able to orient herself easily. Down this way, turn here, around this pillar, through this archway, past the warning light that has been blinking her entire life without ever being repaired.

She was home.

Only, it wasn't home. Not really. With no Ma-ren, this place was only a pile of memories and hurt. The sooner they captured Tam'itarr and left, the better. Fen shook her head slightly inside her helmet, making sure the helmet didn't move. She tried to shake herself of the memories.

Fen led the boarding party walked through the station, weapons at the ready but not actively pointing at anyone, but the few people they came across… didn't care. People barely looked up, let alone running away or attacking. The only people who bothered to look at them were children. As soon as they did, their parents shooed them back into their domiciles. The third time it happened, Fen felt a little silly and had everyone lower their weapons. They all straightened up and began to walk more normally.

"Empress… do you know what's going on?" The commander said, looking around. "This wasn't the reception I was expecting."

"No, commander, I don't know either. Many people on the station had joked that they had seen 'everything' and that nothing would surprise them, but I didn't think they would take it this far." Fen's faceless white helmet turned towards the people sitting in cafes who were pointedly not looking at them. She toggled her comm. "Weapons, please confirm you disabled their reactors."

"Empress, we have confirmed strikes on three of the five energy sources that we determined to be reactors. Additionally, we were not fired upon while boarding."

"It sure doesn't look like their reactors are down, Lieutenant. Lights are on, there are no alarms, everyone is enjoying their afternoon."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. "Empress? You're sure? Everything is up and running?"

Fen tisked. "Why would I lie to you, Lieutenant? It's almost as if you didn't strike any of the reactors at all."

"W-We will reconfirm our shots, Empress. We will contact you in moments."

The line disconnected and Fen stopped walking. "I don't like this."

"Yes, Empress. it feels like a trap."

"Weapons ready." Everyone snapped their rifles back to their shoulders and spread into a defensive pattern. Meanwhile, Fen strode up to a young Gren man sitting at a cafe, reading a pad. "You. What is going on?"

"Hmm?" He lifted his head and looked at Fen. His expression tried to remain the same, but she saw his mouthparts twitch slightly before he spoke. "Nothing is going on, it's a normal day."

"Oh for the love of-" Fen cleared her helmet and locked eyes with the Gren. "W̴͈̃h̸̐ͅá̶̞t̷͇̽ ̷̪͌ì̵̬s̶̪̀ ̵̢͛g̴̹̿o̶͓͒ï̷̪n̵͚͆g̶͕̍ ̴͌͜o̴̲͂n̶̨̛?̴͇̇"

"We were ordered to ignore you." He answered immediately, almost without thinking. Once he realized what he said, he reared back, frightened.

"Who ordered it?"

He stood up from his chair quickly, knocking it over. He was backing away from her gaze, trying to escape. "Tam'itarr ordered it! He runs the place now!" Still reversing the Gren tripped over a table set and turned around and took off down the hall, running. One of the soldiers readied his rifle.

"No, don't shoot him. There's no point. He told me what I needed to know anyway."

It felt like someone was pushing her over. That was the thing she remembered first. Fen had no idea what getting shot was like, but it really felt like someone took a sharp shove to her shoulder. Her suit squealed at her that she was taking fire, and to get to cover. Fire? She's being shot at? Her second thought was of Ma-ren. Was this how it felt for her?

Fen fell to the deck with a thud. The armor had absorbed the majority of the shot, but there was still bruising and pain. While on the ground, there was another shot to her helmet. This one was much louder, with a metallic thwack sound that came from behind her. They absolutely were shooting at her! The nerve! Fen rolled onto her back to try and get up, and she was shot again. The suit was getting quite cross with her, with the internal screens lighting up with GET TO COVER in red and AVOID GETTING SHOT. Hmph. That seemed a little sarcastic.

With a rush of noise, her perception of the world sped up. The commander was leaning down and clinked his helmet to hers, enabling the suit-to-suit. "Empress! Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm all right. The suit - even though it's sarcastic - is doing well. Have we determined the source of the attack?"

"No, it's from multiple locations. We need to get to cover!" He helped her up, and everyone encircled her. Crouching low, below them, they started moving as one towards the restaurant that Gren was eating at before the attack. Fen could hear the shots ricocheting off the strong Imperial armor, but if they brought out any heavier weapons, they'd start taking casualties.

"Empress! Empress!" It was the Lieutenant from weapons. "We were duped! The energy sources are gone, the reactors weren't there. It's a trap, you need to get off the station!"

"Yes Lieutenant, we were able to figure that out on our own." Fen's vision blurred slightly. That shot to her head had made her brain vibrate some. "Please fire upon the station. I would like for them to stop shooting me."

"Uh… Empress? With all due respect…"

"Yes Lieutenant, spit it out, I am under fire right now and don't really have time for protocol."

"Why don't you just Voice them and make them stop shooting at you?"

Oh for Ancestors sake. "Yes, thank you Lieutenant. That's an excellent idea."

Fen stood up straight from the huddle of her soldiers and toggled her external speaker.

Č̶̨̚ě̸̬a̵̓͜ṣ̷͊͝ẻ̵̪ ̷͇̼́͋F̴͎̒í̸̺̌r̵̡͇̈́̋e̶̡̤̋̿!̵̧̥̇!̸͔͝

The shots stopped immediately. There was a commotion coming from some hidden corners. Probably attackers trying to figure out what is happening.

S̴̺̒h̵̺̃ȏ̷͙w̴̘̄ ̸͎͌ỳ̵̰ö̷͙́ȗ̶̡r̷͚̂s̵̠̕e̸̬̿l̶̛͜v̵̻͋ȇ̴̩s̶͓͊ ̷̋ͅr̴͉͐i̷̦͒g̵̡̒h̶͚̅t̸̻͋ ̵̫͌n̷͙̐ò̵͎w̶̩̑.̶̠͋

About a dozen people walked into the hall from three locations, one behind, one parallel and one in front of them. It was a motley crew of mostly Gren with a few K'laxi and some Sefigans with them. All were using modified human rifles and submachine guns. Old, poorly maintained ones, modified for other sapient use.

"Where's Tam'itarr?" Fen said.

"He's holed up somewhere up towards the top. He has a group of those old K'laxi refugees with him." One of the Gren said. He was shorter than most of the other Gren, with a dark fur flecked with gray.

As Fen's eyes passed over the group, she came across a familiar face. A face that was burned into her memory. A K'laxi with half of an ear notched, with dark brown fur and a smug grin.

It was him. The one who shot Ma-ren.

"You!" She pointed, her finger shaking with rage. C̴̦͗ǒ̴̰m̷̻͐e̷̘̾ ̵̜̚h̷͔̀e̸̠͋ŕ̶̫ȇ̷͕.̶̨̀

The K'laxi stepped forward, walking robotically. Trying to fight the imperial order always made people look like they were fighting their own bodies. He stopped a meter away from Fen.

"You are with Tam'itarr's crew."

He nodded once.

Fen cleared her helmet so that he could see her face. His eyes went wide with recognition, but he scowled and said nothing.

"You know me." It wasn't a question.

"You were one of the people chasing after me and Ma-ren when we were trying to escape. To try and get to Spyglass?"

He didn't move.

A̶̢̡̨̠̙͎̭̰͊͒ͅÑ̷͔̠͓̩̲̫̫̲͖̒̍̀̒̃̀̚̚ͅS̵̢̟̦͓̘̫̯̉͋͠ͅẄ̸̢̡̧̻̣̝̣̘E̸̘͙̝͔̝̮͕̭̗͎͆̈́̎̂͠͝R̷̨̧̢̘͎̠̻̠͓̮̎̓̄̀̇̏̅͝͝͠ ̷̧̡̞̦̺̣͖̤͊̂̓͋̓M̵̨̭͓̮̺̥̜̥̺̤̐̿͛͊̈́̿̂͝Y̴̗̳̗͆ ̵̝͈̣̔̑̔͝Q̸̙͊̊U̷͓͈͎̎͒Ȩ̶̭͖̥̰̳̻̗̘̭͒̒S̴̹̓͑͗͋́͑͆̂Ṯ̴̻̖̀͒̾̄͌̐̋͝͠Ḭ̴̧͕̜̬̖̫̊̿̈́̈́̾̆̅O̷̢͇̗̳̜͎̒̍̾̅̾́͘Ņ̸̻͖̯͈̙̍̀̓̐͘͜͠ͅŞ̴̥̰͖̹̮̓͆͆̉̃͑̈́̈̕̕ she shouted.

Her Voice reverberated through the open area. It felt like the whole station went silent at her shout. His answer was practically a whisper, all his bravado gone.

"Yes."

"You shot Ma-ren?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I thought you would turn to go after her, and then I could shoot you too. But that damned other human you were with fended us off and you two escaped."

Fen stood straight, and nodded once. She reached onto the pad on the wrist of her suit and opened the helmet. With a hiss of pressure, the front of her helmet opened like a flower and folded down, becoming like a collar. Her head was in the open air of the station, at risk. The commander opened his mouth to tell her to put her helmet back on, but she turned to him, and her face made him close his mouth again.

She turned back to the K'laxi.

S̵̝̭͒͆t̵͉͕͌o̷̰̣̓p̵̧̹̊ ̵̩̎͝b̷̧͋̓r̵̪̈́e̸̦̔ȧ̴̠ṯ̷̢͝h̸̠̼́͌i̴͉͎̇͌n̶͚̳̈́g̶̯͇̒͠.̸̞̠͆͆

He looked up at her, puzzled. He went to take a breath to speak, and found that he couldn't. Looking at her in surprise, he tried again. His muscles wouldn't work to pull air into his lungs. He started to panic and turned to his compatriots. Fen locked eyes with them, and they said and did nothing. He started clutching at his throat, his fur puffed out, his mouth opening and closing, his tail vibrating furiously.

It sook quite a while for him to die.

When it was over, she touched her pad without looking at it, and the helmed unfolded and re-formed over her head. She waited until it was opaque again, and her face was obscured before she cried.

[atla-genderbender]

ATLA Gender Bender: "Princess Zuka"

Zuko -> Zuka

Alternatively, it is possible that female Zuko would still be called "Zuko". The ending -ko is feminine in Japanese. But within Fire Nation royalty, there exist masculine and feminine counterparts to names: Iroh/Ilah, Azulon/Azula. The ending -a is also used for Zuko's mother's name, "Ursa". This suggests that the feminine equivalent of "Zuko" would be "Zuka".

Like her male counterpart, the banished princess would have the most extensive wardrobe. I tried to draw several, but not all of these outfits.

If Zuko had been born a girl, a large theme of her story would be the traumatic loss and restoration of her femininity. I don't think that she would be a tomboy, but would be just as driven as her male counterpart to regain her honor.

I've been picturing Cricket Leigh as the voice of "Princess Zuka". Specifically, her voice as "angry Mai" in the Beach episode.

OUTFIT DESCRIPTIONS:

1: Young Zuka, from "Zuka Alone" flashback

She is supposed to resemble a young Ursa. Rather than being dressed like Azula, her clothes are inspired by ruqun.

2: Zuka at age 13, prior to being burned

Her ponytail is supposed to show off her long, beautiful hair, which is cut off during her banishment.

3: Zuka at age 13, after being burned

"Zuka" is shown with a fully shaved head, to illustrate an alternative scenario where Ozai does not challenge her to an Agni Kai, but immediately deems her actions treasonous and orders her to shave her head. In this alternative scenario, her refusal to cut her topknot is what prompts Ozai to scar her face and banish her anyways. This is supposed to be more in line with the treatment of "dishonorable" women in real life, as there are many world cultures throughout history who punish women by shaving their heads.

Still, I am not sure whether it was appropriate to include this in her wardrobe lineup. The Fire Nation is higher in the gender equality index than the cultures it is based on, as a consequence of firebending being an "equalizer" between the sexes. It is therefore plausible that "Zuka" would have still been challenged to an Agni Kai by Ozai, and that things would have occurred in the same fashion to her male counterpart. In this scenario, she would not have cut off her topknot. I picture her wearing the same hairstyle as regular, male Zuko, where she shaves the sides of her head to symbolize her shame.

4: Book 1 Zuka

Unlike her male counterpart, I think "Zuka" would grow out her hair. Zuko's shaved ponytail is based on a real hairstyle worn by Thai boys. But in-universe, Zuko appears to have fashioned himself after the hairstyle worn by Sun Warriors. A few other men in the Fire Nation also wear this hairstyle, but women are not seen wearing this. If "Zuka" had this hairstyle, I think it would come off as rebellious, instead of loyal to the Fire Nation. It makes more for "Zuka" to fashion herself after female Sun Warriors, who wear their hair in ponytails without shaving the rest of their heads. Her asymmetrical bangs are meant to contrast with Azula's perfectly symmetrical bangs. Underneath her armor, I picture her being very athletic, with lean, defined muscles.

5: Book 1 Zuka, as the "Blue Spirit"

The comics explain the origin of Zuko's Blue Spirit mask, which is based on "The Dark Water Spirit", a male character from the play "Love Amongst the Dragons". While "Princess Zuka" could don the mask of the "Dragon Empress", I think it fits her better to wear the mask of the "Dark Water Spirit" instead. This is because Zuko and Azula would reenact the play as children, with Zuko playing the Dark Water Spirit and Azula playing the Dragon Emperor. If the Azula was a boy and Zuko was a girl, I think "Azulon" would still play the role of the Dragon Emperor, while "Zuka" would still play the role of the Dark Water Spirit. This would foreshadow their eventual rivalry and Agni Kai, and I don't like the implications that come with "Zuka" playing the Dragon Empress. For these reasons, I chose to have "Zuka" don the mask of the "Dark Water Spirit" instead of the "Dragon Empress". This also does a better job of symbolizing the "Blue Spirit"'s role as enemy of the Fire Nation.

Additionally, I think it makes sense for "Zuka" to disguise herself as a male while donning the Blue Spirit mask. Failure to do so would make her disguise a lot less effective, due to the male dominated nature of the Fire Nation army. It would make her and Admiral Zhao both look smarter, as Zhao would still figure out that she is the Blue Spirit. Due to her physical build, she would not be able to pass for a fully grown adult man, but could pass for an adolescent boy. The cross-dressing element of her disguise could also connect the Blue Spirit to her "animus", symbolizing her complicated relationship with her femininity.

6: Book 1 Zuka, after assassination attempt

She would be shown without any color on her lips, due to her beat up state.

7: Book 2 Zuka, after cutting topknot

8: Book 2 Zuka, messy hair

This hairstyle would only be seen briefly during her sick episode

9: Book 2 Zuka, post haircut

After her bout of sickness, "Aunt Ilah" buys "Princess Zuka" new clothes and gets her a hair cut.

10: Book 3 Zuka, emo hair

11: Book 3 Zuka, formal dress

12: Book 3 Zuka, after joining the "good guys"

13: Fire Lord Zuka, coronation outfit

Her hairstyle is inspired by the Kdrama "Queen Seondeok" (2009).

14: Fire Lord Zuka, comics outfit (formal)

Her costume combines elements of Queen Seondeok, Queen Panhtwar, and Empress Wu Zetian.

15: Fire Lord Zuka, comics outfit (casual)

In these drawings, "Zuka" is shown having one of two lip colors: red and pink. The red shade is supposed to be the same color as Azula's lips, while the pink shade is supposed to be the same color as Izumi's lips.

The reason I did this was originally based on a mistake. I thought that Ursa had a lighter shade on her lips than Azula, and was trying to make "Zuka" look like a younger Ursa. However, this was a mistake. Ursa and Azula actually have the same lip color. Ursa's lips only look lighter because of the lighting in the "Zuko Alone" flashbacks.

I decided to keep this decision to have "Zuka" switch between Azula's lip color and a lighter shade of pink. This is supposed to make "Zuka" look a bit like Izumi, Zuko's daughter. It is also supposed to indicate when "Zuka" is wearing makeup and when she is not. I think her lip color should change upon becoming a fugitive, as she wouldn't wear makeup while living in poverty.

Like what I’m doing? Consider leaving me a donation via Ko-Fi.

[lunarsights]

Hi Sun! I was wondering if you can do Wooyoung’s ideal type like their physical appearance, traits, personality, etc and can you do examples of moodboard / pictures of what aesthetic / person they would be? Thank you if you do this kind of request, I hope it’s not a lot. If it is, it’s alright to just put what his ideal type is period. And I hope you’re doing well sis! -🧜🏽‍♀️

thank you for wishing me well!

just wanna let you know i tried to do a moodboard, but ultimately didn't because who wooyoung seems to be attracted to is really unconventional/eccentric, so nothing really fit. if i find some pictures later on, then i'll update!

𝙒𝙤𝙤𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙜'𝙨 𝙄𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙡 𝙏𝙮𝙥𝙚

𝐒𝐡𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲:

“Running up Freestyle” by Megan Thee Stallion

“ghostin” by Ariana Grande

“The Breaks” by Kurtis Blow

“PYT” by Michael Jackson

“Work” by Rihanna

𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬:

Seven of Wands (Rx), Justice, Ten of Cups, Queen of Pentacles, Queen of Wands, The Empress, The Fool, The World, 

Knight of Wands, Three of Cups, Page of Wands, Ten of Wands, The Star

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠:

wooyoung could feel attracted to those who are somewhat emotionally unavailable. with the shufflemany songs, this can range from people who are hyper independent and feel comfortable being single or looking around to people who have a ton of “baggage” or trauma so to speak. there seems to be a feeling of wanting to prove himself worthy of being with someone? he’s attracted to people who have their walls up because he likes to break them down. this doesn’t seem to be in a toxic way though; it’s more in wanting to be a “knight in shining armor” way; “wanting to give people a miracle”.  a “boss woman” comes to mind also. despite their unavailability, he wants someone who does understand their emotions; i’m reminded of the idea of those who intellectualize their trauma, so he could be attracted to someone like that. 

he is also drawn to people with ambition and those who have hope despite what makes them seem unavailable sometimes. he likes people who try to go after everything they want but also know when to take a break and enjoy what all they’ve accomplished. with ten of cups i get the feeling he likes people who greatly value life experiences and creating connections with others; someone who has a close knit friend group or is okay with creating one once they get with him. i don’t see him being attracted to someone who’s a major social butterfly though. he seems to be more drawn to those who are homebodies with the presence of queen of pentacles. he’s also drawn to people who are creatives in some way; this doesn’t necessarily have to deal with the arts - even just somebody who thinks creatively or out of the box would pique his interest.

there’s a lot of wands energy in this reading (especially on the appearance half), so he could be drawn to those who are fire dominant (aries, leo, sagittarius). he could be attracted to those who have what’s considered a “baby face”; those who have a lot of baby fat still. he could like those who dress in various colors; “not afraid to experiment”. he could be attracted to those who look different than what people expect or unconventional (ie. dressing outside of what’s trendy, openness to those who aren’t korean and for those who are korean could be fine with them not fitting the traditional beauty standards). he also likes those who “look happy”, “rejuvenated”, and “youthful”. 

i also want to point out that Megan Thee Stallion popped up quite a few times, so that could be someone he’s currently attracted to/interested in as an example.

𝐀𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐒𝐡𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲:

“Killing Me Softly” the Fugees

“One More Night” by Anthony Ramos

“Hiss” by Megan Thee Stallion

[empress-mizuki]

@the-oathbound-champion

[The sun burned low in the sky as the Empress approached the massive Oni General and its patrol in Shogun's Solitude. It resembled a smaller Shogun X, and she knew it possessed lesser but similar powers.

Its guards raised their weapons at her, and the General reached for its blade as she unsheathed hers. As the guards unleashed a hail of bullets, the Empress became a flowing blur, weaving through their fire to cleave one head from its shoulders, and immediately turning to sweep the other's head off as well.

Both guards dissolving into ash, the Empress flicked her blade into a defensive stance as the read the General's intent. It towered over her even across the courtyard, snarling incoherent rage in her direction before charging at her.

Slipping with ease under its wide swing, the Empress slashed at the straps on its side holding its armor, knowing that she was also cutting flesh by the black left behind on the edge of her blade. The General growled and threw cursed flames at her, but the Empress countered each with the water blade technique, scattering droplets of water and embers across the ancient stone court.

Darting in once more, the Empress leapt high over its next swing, slashing at the shoulder this time. The straps holding the creature's chestplate snapped, and the weight of it pulled the front plate wide open, swinging from the remaining straps on the opposite shoulder and side. The General's throat was now exposed, the high armored collar now falling away.

Baiting the creature's charged swing into aiming high, the Empress ducked below its blade once again, springboarding up and slashing deep into the throat, severing the head entirely. Using the falling creature as a stepping stone, she caught herself and landed lightly back on the ancient stone court, the fluttering remnants of paper talismans cut in her final swing floating into ash around her.

That had been most satisfying. Flinging the black blood from her blade, the Empress nearly sheathed it, but spun at the sound of an armored boot on stone, blade outstretched at the source. It took a moment to understand what she saw, but she lowered her blade.

This was no Oni. A familiar face stood before her, though not in the full regalia she would have recognized more quickly. A tall man with intense features and long jet-black hair falling over eyes the color of ice on the lake, a very familiar crest displayed on his clothing, and an even more familiar broadsword with a wicked hooded tip.

The Empress sheathed her blade, nodding in acknowledgement. This must be a snapshot of the Ageless of her own first Island, who had arrived just before she herself.]

Well met, Champion. My apologies, I fear I left no Oni for you to toy with.

[theblackbookofarkera]

Daralazha

In the sacred mythology of the Pamarang pantheon, there exists a divine duality in the form of twin goddesses: Lahza, who rules the ever-changing moon, and her sister Daralazha, whose unwavering vigilance protects the boundaries between worlds.

Where Lahza embodies the fluid grace of moonlight and the eternal dance of lunar phases, Daralazha stands as immovable as the mountains. Her visage, though bearing her sister's celestial beauty, is marked by eyes that have witnessed countless ages of warfare between the realms. She wears armor of obsidian scales that never reflects light, but seems to absorb it into depths unknown.

Daralazha's choice of celibacy sets her apart from the often-passionate deities of the Pamarang pantheon. While her sister Lahza's tales are filled with love affairs and divine unions, Daralazha took an eternal vow of solitude, believing that to guard the gates of hell requires a focus undiluted by worldly attachments. Some myths whisper that her commitment to celibacy came after witnessing how love had weakened other gods, making them vulnerable to the temptations of the underworld.

As Keeper of Devils, Daralazha's primary domain lies at the threshold where reality frays into nightmare. The gates of hell under her watch are not mere portals but vast cosmic wounds in the fabric of existence, eternally threatening to tear wider. Here she maintains her endless vigil, accompanied by her legendary army - one million winged she-tigers whose roars can shake the foundations of both heaven and earth.

These fearsome guardians, known as the Rasha-vihi, are said to have been born from Daralazha's own shadow. Each bears distinctive striped markings that glow with an inner fire, and their wings are formed from the same dark metal as their mistress's armor. They possess both the cunning of tigers and the tactical minds of divine warriors, making them the perfect sentinels for both upper and lower realms.

The goddess's stern nature serves a vital purpose in the cosmic order. While other deities might be swayed by prayers or offerings, Daralazha's judgments are as absolute as the laws of nature themselves. She permits no negotiation with the damned, no bargaining with devils, and no corruption of the boundaries she protects. This unwavering dedication has earned her many titles among the Pamarang faithful: the Unyielding One, the Night's Shield, and the Empress She-Tiger.

Yet despite her harsh aspect, or perhaps because of it, Daralazha is also seen as a protector of justice and order. Her presence serves as a reminder that some boundaries must never be crossed, some rules never broken. Temples dedicated to her are sparse and austere, typically built at crossroads or city gates, where supplicants come not to ask for favors but to seek the strength to maintain their own vigilance against darkness.

In Pamarang artworks, Daralazha is traditionally depicted in three forms: as a solitary warrior with a spear of starlight, as a robed judge weighing the souls of the dead, or as a magnificent field commander leading her army of winged tigers against waves of chaos-spawned horrors. In all representations, her expression remains the same - a mask of divine determination that neither wavers nor weakens, eternal as the stars themselves.

[scribeofskyrim]

Tirdas, 2nd of Sun's Dusk, 4E 201

We're in Windhelm tonight. Right now we're at New Gnisis to warm up and have some food before we head to Candlehearth Hall to sleep.

We got up early this morning. Even though it was still freezing cold the weather was clear as we set off for Windhelm.

There were lots of wolves on the road again, but with the added fun of bears! We even ran across a wolf pack attacking people at Anga's Mill. Luckily no one was killed, but another pack just past the bridge got a traveler, and one of a party of adventurers that killed the wolves.

Ugh - Well, we got some gear off the adventurer, and decided to check our goods to see if we really needed to head into the city.

I forgot firewood.

By Talos, this cannot be happening.

So, we went into Windhelm. We sold off what we took from the adventurer and the assassin, then warmed up at Candlehearth Hall before hitting the road again.

We followed the road left as it wound past a handful of small farms, then up the mountain a bit. We spotted the roof of a largish house through the trees. It looked like an inn, so we decided to go get some drinks and warm up before setting off on our way

Turns out, it wasn't an inn. It was partially in ruin and full of bandits!

They attacked us as soon as we got close, so we killed them and searched the building for loot. I found some loose gold and a few potions, but mostly things like food and other supplies. We took what we could and warmed up by the fire before we continued on our way to the Winter War.

We were almost to the coast when we saw what looked like three Imperial soldiers standing around three dead bodies in the snow.

As we drew closer, one of the "soldiers", an Orc, told us to stop. He said I was "interfering with Imperial business" and would have to pay a fine.

Yeah, right, and I'm the Empress.

I refused, and they set upon us.

They were actually a bit of a challenge! One of them was a mage, though, so I guess that helped.

Once they were dead, I took what they had on them and looked at the other bodies.

As I thought; three dead Imperial soldiers. They must have been jumped by the bandits here as we were clearing out the hideout that was just on top of the hill not far behind us. I wonder if they were all part of the same gang, or if these three just happened to by passing through?

Oh, well. Not like it matters. What matters is that we've got more loot to sell!

We got to the coast, and even Valdimar admitted that it was getting a bit chilly! The wind whipping off the sea almost took the air out of my lungs and burned with every breath. I had a torch out, Wolfskin, and Bask going all at the same time, and that hardly put a dent in the cold!

What's worse, as we laid eyes on the Winter War, we realized that in order to get there, we'd have to swim for it.

The prow of the boat is beached on a huge iceberg, broken in half right down the middle. The back half looks like it's partially embedded in another iceberg. It's trapped between towers of ice, with the crack in the hull like a tunnel going through the ship's belly. It reminded me of a cracked egg still connected at the very top.

There was no way I was going in that water in the state I was in. I'd freeze instantly! So, I built a fire and even got out the tent for us to huddle in.

I'm glad I decided to take a moment to chop some firewood before we left Windhelm.

-/-/-/-/-/-

At Candlehearth Hall now. The others didn't want to wait for me to finish writing before we headed here, and I don't blame them!

Anyway, after we warmed up, we were able to hop on sheets of ice and got a lot closer to the ship than I thought we would. My boots got a little wet, but that was fine. We still had to swim for the last bit, though. We went in through the crack in the bottom, and walked right up to where the bandit chief was! We took care of him like Anneke asked, and there were three other bandits there, too.

I'm surprised there weren't more, but oh, well. Plenty of armor on them! There was also the loot in the ship, which included some nice enchanted weapons and gold. I even found a roaring fire with a cookpot on the deck, so we took the time to make some food and get dry. We climbed to the prow of the ship - it's at an impressive tilt - and saw there was a way down to the bit of land the iceberg was beached on.

The way down was actually a skinny ledge cut into the iceberg, with a bit of planking here and there to bridge the gaps. Valdimar was not happy, and Septim just went up and over the other side and skidded down. By the time we got to the opposite shore we were freezing again because we still had to hop on ice sheets and swim a bit. Just enough to soak through, of course.

We saw a campsite not far off, and went to see if they had a fire. It was clearly set up by fishermen, with nets and a small boat right there, but there was no sign of them. There was food around the cold campfire, and Lydia noted that it was still fresh. Once I lit the fire and warmed up, I rummaged around and found a journal where one fisherman was complaining about having to be out here.

You and me both, friend.

They were obviously not coming back anytime soon, so I took what I could. They brought a tavern's worth of ale with them!

They also had some small logs ready to split, so I cut more firewood in case we needed it. We weren't totally dry or warm, but with the gusts off the sea throwing salty spray on us, we were as dry as we could get. We decided to make a run for Windhelm. We were on the same side of the river as the city, now. Hopefully we could find a way in.

So, we got out our torches and went. We followed the coast, and while we had to get really close to the water at some points, I didn't have to get my boots wet.

Still, I started to freeze. Every bit of exposed skin stung against that biting wind, and it felt like my boots were made of lead. Night was falling, and it got even colder.

I was shaking badly, so Lydia had to take the firewood I'd just chopped from my pack and make a fire. We huddled around it, and while it kept Erandur and I from collapsing, there wasn't much more it could do against that damned wind.

I wasn't feeling too frostbitten, so I decided to risk it and keep going. We could see Windhelm, and it wasn't far at all, but I didn't know how we were going to get past the wall. Erandur used his Flame ability, and reminded me that I could use Flame Cloak, too.

It actually helped a bit!

As we got to the city, I saw that there wasn't a side door anywhere. At least, nothing obvious. But Windhelm has docks, and that's familiar territory to me! There was just enough ice built up along the wall that we could jump from it to the docks. Septim didn't want to go - I think the water made him nervous - so Lydia threw a bit of meat across the gap, and the dog quickly followed.

There was a long, winding staircase that led up to a small gate almost right there, and before we knew it, we were in Windhelm.

The gate wasn't far from the Gray Quarter and I was starting to shiver, so we made a beeline for the Cornerclub.

Ambarys commented on our near-frozen state as we filed in, and had Malthyr stoke the fire a bit more. We ordered some drinks to warm ourselves, and as luck would have it, they had soup on the menu!

We enjoyed the atmosphere for a while after we ate, and I wrote. We talked plans for a bit, too, and tomorrow's pretty straightforward.

We'll sell the goods, maybe do a bit of shopping, then head to Kynesgrove and on to Mistwatch Keep to clear those bandits out, too.

If we're lucky, we can head over to Ivarstead after that and sleep at the Vilemyr Inn. Maybe give Temba her bear pelts so she'll finally sell me some damn lumber.

Anyhow, I'm getting sleepy, so I'm going to turn in.

---

Back | Next

[demifiendrsa]

Mortal Kombat 1: Khaos Reigns Official Announcement Trailer

The Mortal Kombat 1 expansion “Khaos Reigns,” will launch on September 24, 2024 for $49.99 on PlayStation 5, Xbox Series, and PC, and for $39.99 on Switch.

“Khaos Reigns” includes new story chapters and “Kombat Pack 2.” A bundle containing “Khaos Reigns” and the existing “Kombat Pack 1” will also be available. “Kombat Pack 2” will not be available as a standalone character pack outside of the expansion. Pre-orders for the expansion include four new skins: “Wedding Scorpion,” “Ultimate Mortal Kombat 3 Sub-Zero,” “Empress Mileena,” and “Ultimate Mortal Kombat 3 Noob Saibot.”

A free update dubbed “Animality” will be available upon the release of “Khaos Reigns,” which sees the return of of the “Animality” finishers from Mortal Kombat 3.

Key visual

First details

Khaos Reigns After repelling the invaders who endangered Fire God Liu Kang’s New Era of peace, Mortal Kombat 1 “Khaos Reigns” expands the story campaign with an all-new cinematic narrative. When a perilous threat arrives from an alternate timeline, led by the ruthless Titan Havik whose sole mission is to throw the realms into khaos, Liu Kang must rally his champions and put faith in his enemies to defeat this grave danger. If they fail, the New Era will be reduced to anarchy. Kombat Pack 2

Adding to the growing roster of playable fighters, “Kombat Pack 2” features returning kombatants Noob Saibot, voiced by Kaiji Tang; Cyrax, voiced by Enuka Okuma; and Sektor, voiced by Erika Ishii, all with unique backstories as part of the reimagined Mortal Kombat 1 Universe. As Sub-Zero, Bi-Han was the Lin Kuei’s ruthless Grandmaster, but his soul was stolen by Titan Havik to create the perfect henchman, Noob Saibot, who is now dedicated to fomenting anarchy. Born into the Zaki, one of the Lin Kuei’s many sub-clans, Cyrax became a martial arts prodigy with an independent streak and untamed desire to serve the clan on her terms, or not at all. Growing up immersed in Lin Kuei culture under the tutelage of her parents, Sektor becomes a master armorer, skilled warrior, and Sub-Zero’s most trusted lieutenant, committed to advancing the clan’s future at all costs.

“Kombat Pack 2” also brings a new batch of guest fighters into the mix with Ghostface, the recurring identity donned by antagonists from the Scream horror movie franchise, voiced by Roger L. Jackson; T-1000, the liquid metal-based Terminator and deadly cybernetic assassin from the Terminator 2: Judgment Day (1991) film featuring the voice and likeness of actor Robert Patrick; and Conan the Barbarian, the towering warrior from the Conan the Barbarian (1982) film featuring the likeness of actor Arnold Schwarzenegger. Animalities Additionally, Animalities, the fan-favorite finishing moves will be returning as a free content update for all Mortal Kombat 1 owners. Allowing characters to morph into their spirit animal to annihilate defeated opponents, Animalities can be performed by all playable fighters and will be available in conjunction with the Mortal Kombat 1: Khaos Reigns release. Furthermore, all owners of Mortal Kombat 1 will receive a free MK 95 Scorpion character skin, inspired by the original Mortal Kombat (1995) film, available today.

[titanicfreija]

Tributary

"I saw your Guardian in the Iron Banner."

Caiatl's voice surprised the Ghost and Guardian, and Freija leapt to her feet with a start. "How do you know?" asked Sunny, hovering into Caiatl's line of sight.

She seemed amused at their reaction, rocking to her heels and lowering her tusks. "I asked the name of particular Tributaries that I found impressive, and hers was one. That armor set is quite small."

Freija looked down at herself and smiled sheepishly. "The legs help me run faster."

~

"And they send bolts of electricity amongst your foes when you strike them," Caiatl agreed, speech unusually fast for herself. Freija smiled when she recognized the enthusiasm. "I do enjoy Valus Forge's sports. We have simulated them, but the live fire cannot be matched."

Freija giggled and Caiatl chortled. "You are fearless," she told Freija.

"I..." Sunny interrupted when she dropped a foot and a half. "Yeah," she sighed.

Caiatl humphed pleasantly. "The deadliest among you were quite impressive, but I find this game favors those who play the objective. The deadliest among you seemed only interested in being the deadliest."

Freija moaned and rolled her head in exasperation. "Yeah. They're still doing something, gives people like me something to pick up. But they'll leave the crests when I'm not there to pick them up, or worse, they'll make so many that even if they do pick them up, there's some left behind. That's partially my fault for dying, though."

Caiatl humphed again and crossed her arms. "I appreciate your capacity for clear thought in combat. It is amusing to see you give in to your instincts and stay to fight long after you should have retreated," she said.

Freija giggled nervously and ran a hand over her hair. "Yeah, my disengage is shit. I'm working on it. As long as my engage isn't too... Uh. Engaged, I do okay." She smiled wanly.

Sunny, who had subconsciously drifted to Freija's side, wheeled her petals. "It's good to see you, Empress," she sang. "I'm glad you like the Banner. It was the first place Freija got to fight her fellow Guardians, so it's kept a warm place in our hearts, and we come back when Saladin does. We're glad you let him keep it."

"It was an excellent opportunity to witness Guardian battle techniques," Caiatl said with a jovial shift in her stance. "It has also been... Fun. I have certainly enjoyed targeting the Guardians with drop pods. Valus Forge has promoted this, in fact. He says that many could do with lessons of the kind."

Freija giggled again. "I was only in the way once," she objected playfully. "This time. Today."

Caiatl rumbled a laugh and gave the Guardian a nod, then turned back to Sunny. "I would appreciate your company at your convenience."

She almost hid the exhaustion but Sunny and Freija caught it anyway.

"My pleasure! Freija has a date coming up, I'll ping you?"

(I have no idea where I'm gonna take that)

[chndelure]

i used to have a twitter for liveblogging about webcomics but twitter is dying so i deleted it a few months back. that said, i miss having a webcomic posting account so badly, so webcomic Tumblr Sideblog now

main is @asexualzoro and i read smth like 200 comics week to week because i am normal

some favorite comics are Lavender Jack, Eleceed, Your Throne, Castoff, and Broccoli Soup!, but i’m reading way more

longer list of comics i like below cut (not the full list of ones im reading). in alphabetical order, w some more favorites bolded

anything for you

ask white pearl and steven

a spell for a smith

artificisouls

aurora

baby tyrant

the beast of hadingley hill

the blind prince

the botanist

blood bound

brain in a jar

castle swimmer

circuits and veins

city of blank

the crimson lady

cursed princess club

the curse of pirate's bay

damselfish in distress

daughter of 1000 faces

the dark lord's confession

dark zone

daybreak

divorcing my tyrant husband

denounce

desert duo vigilante au

doom breaker

DPS only!

the dragon tutor

dungeon death dispatch

eaternal nocturnal

elf & warrior

encore!

EQUALIZE

fictional skin

the first night with the duke

forever after

forgotten

for my derelict favorite

four leaf

fox fires

from a knight to a lady

garden club detective squad

go away romeo

gourmet hound

grand ma

guaba

guide to the land of monsters

heir's game

heroes of thantopolis

high class homos

high spirits neoma

hooky

honbarian

how to be a dragon

the hunt for the holy pearl

hybrid

i abdicate my title of empress

icy copper

i'm the grim reaper

i'm the queen in this life

ingress adventuring company

inhibit

i want to be a cute anime girl

jupiter men

the last dimension

like wind on a dry branch

the lone necromancer

lorena immaculate

lovebot

love me to death

lucid memories

lumine

magical mom

magic words

makeup remover

marionetta

miracle simulator

muted

#muted

my husband changes every night

my in laws are obsessed with me

mythos redone

my sweet archenemy

nevermore (originals)

nevermore (canvas)

nobody's library

nomads

not so shoujo love story

not your typical reincarnation story

omniscient reader

parallel city

the peculiar compendium of victor van wolfe

phantomarine

phototaxis

plague muffins

the princess and the pirate

the princess plot

prism world

purple hyacinth

questless

rain girl

rectify

the red archer

the remarried empress

rose tide rising

sable curse

school bus graveyard

seasons of blossom

the second lead syndrome

the secret knots

the secrets of soulford

seed

see you in my 19th life

SEIS

señorita cometa

seven days in silverglen

shootaround

sleepless domain

soil that binds us

soleil

somminum theatre

soul food

space boy

space princess

the spark in your eyes

spellward bound

spontaneous world shifting

suitor armor

survival diary

surviving romance

susuhara is a demon!

sweet home

swimming lessons for a mermaid

tiger, tiger

to knight the faithless

to the stars i love

trash belongs in the trash can!

the tyrant wants to be good

the uncommons

villainess for hire

warrior executioner

when the third wheel strikes back

where the heart is

widdershins

wintercircle

the wizard of cedel

the wrath & the dawn

yuna and kawachan