#i was looking for norn to draw and there was. only 2.

[where-is-caithe]

only 3 this time! couldn't figure out who Herta belongs to.

@little-leaf-man

@abyssal-oddity

[teejaystumbles]

Your Love Is Sunlight

A Guild Wars 2 Dreamling fanfiction

(I wrote the Guild Wars AU I desperately wanted because I think Dream is absolutely made to be Sylvari - born from the Dream, connected to his race via their shared subconscious - it just screamed Dream to me and therefore I made two new characters in GW2 and wrote them a tiny story LOL. This is spoiler-free for Guild Wars, I tried to keep it in the early personal story and not mention major things. You don't need to know anything about Guild Wars to enjoy this, a lot of Sylvari things are actually mentioned and explained in this, anything else is not really important.)

It's a simple escort job through the Gendaran Fields to Lion's Arch but the caravan is big and a few adventurers have been hired as guards. Dream would normally not waste time with something like this, but he is expected in Lion's Arch and therefore joining the caravan is no hassle. He would be faster alone, but something about the colourful wagons and the cheerful atmosphere draws him in and he decides to tag along. The caravan is made up of a troupe of entertainers, actors and musicians, dancers and jugglers. Dream watches them laugh and tease each other with fascination. They are a mixed group, Human, Asura, Norn and even Charr, and despite their different races they seem to be getting along well. There are no Sylvari among the group and Dream is both relieved and disappointed. He had hoped to ask a sibling after their experience with these people, had hoped for new stories. But he doubts his questions would have been welcome. He looks like a member of the Nightmare Court, after all.

The group is setting up a camp for the night when Dream, lost in thought, trips over a root and stumbles into the back of a nearby human. The huge dog at the man's side immediately growls at him and Dream stumbles back as the ranger turns.

"I apologise…" Dream says and keeps a careful eye on the dog, but it goes quiet after only a click of the tongue of its master.

The man, who has a bow and sword strapped to his back, stares at Dream with a wide grin and bright eyes and eagerly takes Dream's hands into his own. "No matter! It is an honour to meet a child of the Pale Tree! Well met, friend!"

Continue reading on AO3 or below the cut!

Dream pulls his hands free and takes a hasty step back. The human's dog sniffs at his leg and he shifts uneasily. 

"Friend…?" Memories of dreams of so-called friends betraying each other fill his mind. 

Smiles and supper shared. Then stabbing him into the back when he turns.

He frowns and shakes his head to disperse them, forcing himself to speak. 

"I don't know you. We are not friends. Trust. Has to be earned."

The human stops smiling and looks at him with an almost pained expression. He brushes his shoulder-length dark hair out of his face and tugs on his earlobe. "You are right. Forgive my haste. My name is Hob Gadling. Just Hob is fine. It's a pleasure to meet you…?"

"...Dream."

The bright smile is back in an instant. "What a wonderful name! Dream. Beautiful, just like you!"

Dream feels himself glow and shrink in on himself, his petals shivering. There is no heart in his body but he feels a heat inside his chest that makes him feel like there should be. No one has called him beautiful before. He is too pale, too dark, too broken by nightmares. His sisters and brothers shy away from him, sensing the turmoil of his dreams, the negative emotions that shaped him. If this human knew him like they know him, would he still smile at Dream in such a way?

He does not dare find out and quickly turns away, leaving the human standing with a hastily mumbled apology. He flees to the far side of the camp and lays out his bedroll. The human had looked taken aback but had not followed him. Dream is - again - both relieved and disappointed at that. He lies down and closes his eyes, willing himself to rest and sleep.

~

He wakes from nightmares in the middle of the night, as usual, and silently slips out of the camp towards the nearby river to watch the moon and the glowing insects until the sun rises and the first people begin to stir.

The next day is uneventful. Except for a few huge glowflies attacking them when they pass through a swampy area, nothing happens that the hired adventurers can’t handle. Dream watches the human from last night  - Hob Gadling - masterfully use both bow and sword to swiftly deal with any aggressive wildlife. Their eyes meet a few times and Hob gives him a friendly smile every time. When they make camp for the night again Dream finds himself close to the man again but feels at a loss for words. Fortunately, Hob does not seem to have any qualms to initiate another conversation.

"Have you been to Lion's Arch before, Dream?"

Dream looks up from inspecting his daggers and sees that the human is busying himself with his pack and quiver, and giving his dog a few strips of dried meat. Dream watches him scratch the dog and coo at it quietly before he finds his voice.

"Yes."

Hob looks back at him. "And how did you find it? I think it's too big for me. I got lost the first few times. Ended up in a cave with a dead pirate playing hide and seek, I almost died - stupid old bastard." He laughs loudly and Dream can only stare in fascination. This human is so. Happy. While telling of a life-threatening situation. It is. Confusing. And fascinating.

Hob has set down his weapons and pack and sits on a log, watching Dream with clear, amber eyes. His smile shows no sign of diminishing.

"Won't you sit with me, Dream? I've always wanted to ask a Sylvari about those dogs some of you are keeping as companions."

Dream slowly and carefully perches on the other end of the log and says: "You mean Sylvan Hounds?"

"Yes! Those!" Hob pats his dog happily and looks at Dream full of anticipation, his eyes bright and friendly. The man seems genuinely nice. Dream will stay alert but simply talking to this human…is probably not that dangerous.

Gaining someone’s trust is the first step to a successful betrayal , a well-known voice in his mind whispers. Dream has always had the suspicion that it is the voice of Cadeyrn, taunting him from the Nightmare…

"They are born just like we are. From the Pale Tree, but they're not…sapient, like us."

"They're like dogs." Hob grins and pat's his hound again. Dream nods. "Yes."

"But they're plants."

"All Sylvari are plants."

"I know, it's fascinating, isn't it? And to imagine that the eldest of you are only, what, about 30 years old?" Hob laughs and shakes his head in wonder. Dream frowns. He does not like that his race is often compared to children. Sylvari have much to learn, that is true, but they are not simple . They are simply new to this world, their history short.

"Is it true that no one knows how old you can actually get?"

Dream lifts his eyes from the forest floor and stares at Hob in bafflement. He can't help a sneer and shifts subtly away from the human.

"It is. Why does that ‘ fascinate’ you? Because we are so young to have so far never died of natural causes? Because this world kills us rather than let us live our life to the fullest?"

Dream feels himself shivering with fury. He doesn't know why he is angry. Hob's question was innocuous enough, something anyone might ask a Sylvari. Death as such is not something the Sylvari view as a terrible fate, they find it interesting and do not share the same fear of it as the other races. His elder sister is constantly researching the topic. Yet Dream feels only rage at the reminder of how many of his siblings have died for Tyria, for the fight against the Elder Dragons. He thinks of his closest siblings, born with him and shortly after him. Destiny, as close to their mother as only the Firstborn are, rarely emerging from her grove. Death, named after what fascinates her most, always wandering, never in one place for long. Despair, dead. Desire, her twin, lost to the Nightmare Court. Delirium, who sleeps and stays inside the Dream rather than face the real world. Destruction, who chose to become soundless. Himself, always courted by the Nightmare, constantly fighting against his dark side.

He thinks of them and feels sadness, and rage. How dare the other races judge them? How dare this human ask him how old a Sylvari can get, when from the moment they are born they have to struggle for survival, for sanity, for recognition as sentient beings, for the simple right to exist?

They will never treat us as anything but expendable curiosities. We have to show them what we are capable of , Cadeyrn whispers in his mind. Dream drops his head into his hands and pulls at his sapphire blue leaves. 

Shut up! Get out of my head!

Hob beside him grows tense and leans forward. When a gentle hand lands on his shoulder, Dream flinches violently and looks up with wide eyes. Hob lets go immediately when he sees his face.

"Hey," the man says, his voice quiet and careful, "are you alright? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have pried. It's just," he shakes his head and pulls again at his earlobe, "I've always wanted to meet one of your kind and you looked lonely. And I thought you'd like someone to talk to."

Dream stares at him, momentarily lost for words, anger still rolling inside him. Then he jumps up from the log and snarls: “Lonely?! I am connected to the subconscious of my entire race and our mother. I am never alone . You dare make assumptions when you know nothing of my kin and I.”

He grabs his pack and stalks away, ignoring Hob’s soft plea to wait.

~

That night he dreams again of Despair’s death, of Desire’s subsequent descent into madness. How he begged them to stay, how they still turned from him and joined the Nightmare Court. How when he last met them, they had wrapped him in thorny vines and cooed at him to join them, licking the sap running from his throat where the thorns made him bleed.

‘Just let go, sweet Dream. Embrace your deeper urges, your violent tendencies, your love of the night. Come with me, brother. It will finally make you happy…’

Dream surges awake with a gasp and a cry, startling a nearby Asura, who looks at him first with worry, then with typical scientific curiosity. He makes haste to grab his bedroll and pack and leave their vicinity, before he becomes the subject of an Asuran study into Sylvari dreams. He finds himself drifting closer to Hob again during the day. When night falls they make camp for the last time on their journey. They will reach Lion’s Arch tomorrow and Dream will have to meet with Caithe and the other heroes of old to discuss the ongoing threat to Tyria. He might not see any of these people again, and it is that thought that lets him stay when he sees Hob coming towards him and gingerly set down his pack beside him.

Dream is no longer angry. He knows Hob is right in his assessment that Dream is lonely, despite anything he said last night. His connection to other Sylvari through the Dream is tenuous and constantly strained by nightmares, which others can sense when they meet him. He has thought about becoming soundless, like his brother Destruction, but has shied away from taking such a radical step to remove himself from the Dream. He cherishes the sense of love he gets from their mother, even if it is faint. He doesn’t think he could bear to lose it.

Hob approaches him cautiously and sits down on a tree root. He says: “I apologise for yesterday, Dream. I did not mean to offend.”

He smiles gently. "We’ll soon reach Lion’s Arch, and honestly, I could use the company, because…I realised that it is actually me who’s lonely,” he chuckles and tugs again at his earlobe.  Dream’s eyes widen at the man’s words, said softly and with a hint of sadness, but ringing true. 

“How about you ask me questions? I'd love to tell you anything you might want to know."

Dream licks his lips and blinks a few times to clear his mind. Hob's smile is making that warm place in his chest feel tender and mellow again. This human is truly...

"Weird."

"Huh?"

"You are the weirdest human I have ever met." Dream says, his voice rough. His throat is as dry as old bark. Hob laughs. "You're not the first to say that! Although I really don't understand why being friendly gets you called weird in this world."

He grows solemn, the corners of his mouth turning down. "Makes you think, doesn't it?" he muses and looks down at his dog, which is happily lying beside him, head on Hob's feet. Dream watches him closely, intrigued, and takes in more details. Hob is not particularly tall or particularly broad for a human, but he is still a lot broader than Dream. The muscles of his arms and legs are well defined by his shirt and leather trousers. This man is a fighter, his fingers callused by arrows and sword, the backs of his hands littered with scars, but his face is gentle and his whole demeanour one of kindness. Dream catalogues his colours the only way Sylvari can - by comparing them to plants. Hob's hair is as dark as ebony, his skin the colour of an unpeeled almond, and his eyes are like dark apricot tree sap. He has a strong nose and a chin with a cleft and the shadow of a beard that Dream finds fascinating. Hob is handsome, for a human.

"It seems you like animals better than your fellow men." Dream states rather than asks and Hob looks back up at him quickly and gives a small chuckle.

"Well, you're not wrong. I mean, I like people, I do, but animals - they're just easier, you know? A dog will not mind if you love it too much. It will give you its life and loyalty and love and never question yours if you treat it right."

Dream cocks his head and frowns. "Do humans not...like to be loved?" *By you*, he does not say but wonders as he watches Hob pet his dog. Anyone this man loves must be the luckiest person in the world, he thinks and is glad that his skin does not blush and the encroaching darkness of the night makes his stronger glow seem like a natural occurrence. Hob absently scratches his chin and huffs a laugh. "Of course they do. I'm just... too much, it seems. For some." He clears his throat and then adds with a grin: "So please, ask away. I will annoy you long before you can annoy me."

Dream frowns again. "You... are not annoying. You are curious, but kind. I find myself grateful... for your company. Hob." 

The smile Hob levels at him is nearly blinding and Dream feels himself glow even brighter. Hob's eyes twinkle and his delight is plain on his face. "You're glowing! Is that because it's getting dark? Do you only glow at night or also when it's bright? Do you all glow in different colours?"

Dream can't help but duck his head shyly and mumble: "It's...I..."

Hob sharply sucks in a breath and lifts his hands in an apologetic gesture. "Sorry, sorry, here I go again, asking about personal things. You don't have to answer that. I just," he falters and rubs his neck again, a blush rising on his cheeks. "It looks...very beautiful."

Dream feels his glow brighten even more and this time he can see that Hob has caught it. He leans closer and looks at Dream more closely. “It got stronger. Are you…are you blushing ? Is it like a human blush, when your glow-”

“Yes!” Dream blurts out and grips the bark of the root he’s sitting on tightly, his posture growing more and more rigid. Hob stares at him with his mouth open and his eyes wide in wonder. Then he smiles again and Dream knows if he wasn’t wrapped in a cloak he would be lighting up their small corner of the camp like a torch.

“Please stop,” he begs and wraps his arms around himself, “calling me beautiful.”

Hob scoots closer to him and waits until Dream meets his eyes again.

“Why?” he asks softly, “It’s the truth. You are gorgeous, Dream. Has no one ever told you that?”

Dream feels himself start to shiver. “No,” he whispers, “I am. Not used to compliments.” He is used to frightened glances, to suspicious glares, to whispers behind his back. ’He feels off.’ ‘His eyes are like tar pits.’ ‘He’s going to join the Nightmare Court, I’m sure of it.’ ‘Look at that one, are you sure he’s no courtier? Let’s better not get too close.’

Hob puts a hand on Dream’s shaking shoulder and this time Dream doesn’t flinch away. The touch grounds him and he feels himself lean into it. Hob’s hand is warm where it touches him and suddenly Dream craves warmth. He does not need sunlight and prefers the nighttime, having been born of the Cycle of Night, but he does not enjoy being cold. Hob’s touch makes him feel like he has only ever been cold. He can’t remember when someone last touched him with kindness either.

Hob must sense how Dream relaxes because after only a moment he gently coaxes him to lean more firmly against Hob’s shoulder. Dream wants to melt into his arms and feels instantly ashamed of his reaction.

You don’t know anything about this man. Humans are violent creatures of the flesh, always hungry, don’t mistake their intentions.

Dream would give an arm and a leg if it meant being rid of that voice inside his head. He closes his eyes and whispers: “You see me like no one before has. Sometimes I think too many nightmares made their way into my being…that I am tainted beyond help. Does not my appearance prove it? There is no light in my eyes, like in those lost to the Nightmare Court…and my siblings fear me.” The words spill forth almost without his consent.

Hob hums and wraps his arm tighter around Dream’s shoulders. “Well, for what it’s worth, I think they are fools. It is clear to me that you are not evil, Dream, and I find you more than beautiful. Your eyes are like the rarest black pearls,” 

Dream feels a gentle touch on his cheek and opens his eyes to stare into Hob’s warm amber ones, 

“and you’re the most magical thing I have ever seen,” Hob murmurs softly and brushes his fingertips reverently under Dream’s eyes. Dream inhales deeply and feels his gaze drawn to Hob’s mouth. Hob notices and quirks his lips but doesn’t say anything. Dream swallows and decides to take a leap of faith.

“Earlier…I wondered. How anyone could find you…too much. I thought…I would be so lucky. To be loved by someone like you.”

Hob’s nostrils flare and his eyes widen a bit before another one of his brilliant smiles lights up his face. He leans closer and says, lips almost touching Dream’s: “You’re in luck, then. You should know…I fall in love ridiculously easily. And I can tell that loving you,” Dream feels Hob’s breath on his lips and lets his eyes drop closed again, “will be no hardship at all. My Dream.”

Their lips meet and Dream sighs happily into the kiss, feeling Hob’s warmth radiate from his mouth and hands on his shoulders. Hob pulls back after only a moment but strokes Dream’s cheeks gently and gives him another smile that makes Dream feel like the sun has risen again. Still, he cannot help but give voice to his insecurities:

“Please. Hob. Be honest. Do you…fall out of love just as easily?”

Hob lets out a startled laugh and brushes a sapphire leaf out of Dream’s face. “Didn’t I tell you? I usually am told that I’m too much. Once I latch onto someone, it’s hard to get rid of me.”

He brushes his mouth against Dream’s glowing cheek and adds, more softly: “I’m like a dog, Dream. Treat me kindly and let me love you…and I will stay with you forever.”

Dream gasps and turns his face towards Hob’s. His hands come up to touch his cleft chin in awe and feel his stubble, trace the contours of his face and feel the silky texture of his hair. “You are a wonder, Hob Gadling.”

Hob blushes and laughs again and leans in to kiss him again, something Dream is only too happy to grant. He pulls Hob closer and down onto the mossy forest floor, so he can finally have Hob’s warm body cover his lengthwise. They trade kisses and gentle touches, marvelling at the other in the glow of Dream’s bioluminescence. After a while Hob suddenly hums in thought and a tiny frown appears on his forehead as he seems to contemplate something.

"Dreams and nightmares…I’ve heard your mother only puts special memories into the Dream, right? Significant ones?"

Dream nods and shuffles closer into Hob’s embrace.

"Ones with impact, that create significant feelings, good or bad, have a higher chance to resonate with her, and thus within the Dream, yes."

Hob grins and caresses Dream’s back and sides with his broad palms. Dream relishes the heat coming off his hands and body and sighs again happily. He wants to feel them against his skin, but there will be time for that later, he hopes. 

Hob says: "Let me give you a memory to stick, then. Let me give you a thousand . Your mother shall know my love for you and feel proud. I want her to know the depth of my gratitude for having given life to you, my Dream."

Dream pulls back to properly look into Hob’s face. He feels himself smile in what feels like the first time since his sister died.

"Very well. May my memories of you shine so brightly that they vanquish a thousand nightmares the Court has created, Hob Gadling. May your radiant smile live in the Dream as eternal inspiration and delight for our mother and all unborn Sylvari."

[wolfish-trickster]

Advent kisses

23/24

Loki x female!reader

Word count: 1 208

Summary: Instead of chocolates, kisses are going to be recieved everyday until Christmas.

Tag list: @gaitwae @lucywrites02 @modestlyabsurd @winterfrostsarmy @spaceyempress @thefridgeismybestie @laramoonworld @birdgirl90 @nickkie1129 @loki-yoursaviourishere @hard-to-be-the-bard

"-okay, I admit, I'm in love with Loki. Are you happy now?"

"Very."

Loki couldn't believe he heard you say those words. It was on accident, sure, but still. He looked out the window and imagined what would life with you be like. How many kids you'd want. If you wanted them, of course. If they are going to have your eyes and smile, or his hair and mischievious nature. Or both. If they are going to be boys or girls. He imagined how both of you'd play with them, teach them, read to them, sing lullabies as they fell asleep. He knows imagining married life before you even date is ridiculous, but having someone to imagine having this with is much more than he ever hoped for. In other words, he couldn't resist letting his imagination run free.

When he walked into the kitchen with you holding his hand all girls smirked. He knew why, obviously. He had to play dumb for 2 more days.

Well, only a day now. After 24 hours he's free to confess his feelings to you. Completely. He couldn't wait. Your voice echoed in his head as he fell asleep.

I'm in love with Loki. I'm love with Loki. I'm love Loki. I love Loki.

-

New day, new duties. Christmas tree? Shining. Gingerbread? Baked and decorated. Gifts? Bought, but surprisingly not wrapped yet. So that's what most of the team was doing. Others were watching christmas movies with kids or playing in either pool or snow.

Loki's steps were fast and joyful. He was humming to himself as he made his way to the kitchen, hoping to find you there. The only person there was Bruce.

"Why are you so happy? Christmas is tomorrow."

"Can't I be in a happy mood for no reason?" his eyes were scanning the room. No sign of you.

"Y/N isn't here if you're looking for her. Haven't seen her the whole morning, actually."

Loki's eyes narrowed at Bruce. "What makes you think I'm looking for her?" was he obvious enough for him to find out?

"Well, you two have been spending a lot of time together lately. Plus you made her wound heal faster. It's good you found yourself a bestie. You're less lonely. And Y/N is a good girl, no wonder you took liking to her."

"Alright, I am looking for her. Any ideas where I can find her?"

Bruce shrugged. "Try library corner. Or she's hanging out by the tree. I remember how she said she loves the smell of it."

"Thank you," he bowed his head respectively towards him and went looking for you.

He didn't find you by the tree, nor in the library corner. You weren't watching movie or playing outside. He even went into the sauna to ask Laura and Pepper if they've seen you. In fact, none of the Avengers have seen you today.

The only logical place he could find you was your room. He didn't think of it before, because it's so unlike you to stay in the bed this long.

He softly knocked on your door. What if you fell ill? Loki wouldn't mind taking care of you, but he would feel sad for you. Spending this holiday coughing and sneezing in bed.

He heard a weak 'go away' coming from the other side of the door.

Now this was new. "Darling? It's me, Loki. I'm just checking on you," no answer.

"Are you well, love?"

"Loki, please go away," your voice broke. Loki felt anxiety bubbling inside of him. Were you crying? Why? Did he say or do something?

"My love, are you hurt? Please let me inside. I can help you with anything, just please, open the door," he didn't care he sounded desperate. He wouldn't survive if you were hurt and he didn't help you.

After the longest silence in his life you answered. "Door isn't locked, but I doubt you'll help me with this."

He quickly opened and searched for you. You were in your bed, your back turned towards him. You wrapped yourself into a tiny ball, holding your stomach. Two giant steps and he was by your side.

"Y/N, darling, what's wrong? Are you in pain? What happened?"

You turned your head towards him, your cheeks glistened. 'Oh Norns, you were crying.'

"My tummy hurts. It hurts so bad, I don't know what else to do. I took a pill, but it's not working. I hate being a girl," you hid under covers.

'You hate being a girl? What? I don't under- oh.' The realisation dawned on him. You had period cramps. And nasty ones.

He gently pulled those covers from your face so you could breathe and wiped your sweaty forhead. "Love, tell me what to do to make you feel better," he whispered in your ear.

You shaked your head, new tears of pain appeared. "There's nothing anyone can do. I always have to suffer through first days, nothing helps. Just let me be, I'll be fine tomorrow, I promise."

"My love, I am not just anyone," he wiped your teary cheeks with his thumb, "can I lay next to you?"

You sobbed as you nodded. He pressed his chest to your back, earning him another sob, which nearly made him cry.

His lips brushed your ear. "Can I touch your belly? I'll be gentle I promise," his thumb was already drawing circles on your hip, trying to destract you. You nodded again, trusting him fully.

He snaked his hands from behind you to your front. His palms found themselves a place underneath your belly button. He closed his eyes and concentrated. Golden light seeped into your skin.

The more he concentrated the more your body relaxed. He started drawing little circles with his fingers along your skin. Not that the spell required it. He wanted to do it, so he did.

After you relaxed completely he pulled you into him, nuzzling the back of your neck. "There, this should do for the whole day. How do you feel?"

"Amazing, thank you Loki," you intertwined your fingers with his and snuggled even closer to him.

"My pleasure darling," you carefully turned your body around amd stared into his eyes. Hi forhead touched yours, his eyes never left your face. He started telling you fairy tales and little stories in his quiet raspy voice. You interrupted his telling with a big yawn.

Loki slowly sat up and caressed your face with his knuckles. "You should get some sleep, you need it," he moved to get up, but your hand stopped him.

"Stay, please. At least until I fall asleep," fear was evident in your eyes.

Loki smiled down at you and removed your blanket from your body momentarily. "Don't worry my sweet. As long as I'm here, no pain will come back to torment you," his long fingers pulled the hem of your t-shirt up to reveal your tummy. He bent down and gave your hurting belly a little loving kiss. "I promise."

[just-eyris-things]

A little change in Eyris's story :3

While for years I held onto a story of Eyris being raised by a group of mercenaries made of a norn, asura twins and a charr, and falling in love with that very charr, recently I've decided to scratch that idea.

Why? Simple, I just felt it wasn't good enough, that I could make it better.

So how does it look currently?

The reason why she is a Soundless remains the same:

Eyris still is a sylvari who awoke too early, therefore she was experiencing this double sensation - she could feel the world around her, hear everything that was happening, but she also was rooted within the Dream. The only solution people could think of then was for her to become a Soundless.

Her reason to leave Caledon Forest also stays the same with one single difference:

After Nightmare Court's raid on the Soundless village she lived in, after they slayed her mender (who was also her beloved), she had nowhere to go. She was found not by the earlier mentioned group, but by a travelling norn Ragnar Bjornskin.

So how does her life go on from then?

Ragnar cares for her as if she was his blood. She even calls herself Eyris Ragnarsdottir for a while (she was 2, ok?). Unfortunately, she loses Ragnar to the risen. She would be dead too if it weren't for Trahearne who just happens to be on his way back to the Grove from Orr. He helps her kill Ragnar and put him to rest by burning his body so he would not rise again. Eyris goes to the Grove with Trahearne where she resides for a short while, gathering herself up from yet another loss. She sets off into the world again within a few days - the Grove is not as friendly as her distant memories claim.

Eyris does not know what to do with herself. All she knows was taught to her by Ragnar. Earlier she would say that Ragnar was her home. Now, that home is gone. She travells to Lion's Arch, where she tries to make a living by selling her craft on the street, but it is not enough. Soon selling small wooden totems or drawings gets replaced with bounty hunting and theft, and then it evolves into dealings with the dark side of the Free City.

And there comes Freya Wyldwolf, a Vigil crusader patrolling the streets around Fort Marriner. And she will not stand for any troublemakers in her sector...or will she?

[intensitystoner]

Scribble for @sifkiweek

Day 2 - AU

~2,000 words (attempt at lil’ humour)

Jotunheim was nothing but ice on the surface, such a vast layer over the original soil of the planet that most forms of life couldn't survive here. The few cold-bearing pines that arched towards the sky heedless of the chilling storms had been here long before the Jotunn arrived and the winter they brought along killed all other creatures and plants; this was one of the few superfluous facts that Sif knew, besides ways to find food on foreign land or to recognise the enemy.

Instead of lore, she excelled at warfare: this is what brought her here with the golden armies of Asgard, to take over control and gift the land with their culture and technology. She saw this as a great opportunity to prove worthy of her title. Many people had doubts about her, some had the most insulting accusations. She deemed it wise to stabilise her reputation at this opportunity by delivering a few Frost Giant heads back into the camp from the solo scouting mission she volunteered for among others.

That said, there had been no Giants in sight for what felt hours of wandering in the bone-bursting chill. The ever-present snow gnawed its way under the protective layers of her neck-high armour and padded cloak. Valiant Sif soon got bored of the monotonous rows of icebergs, ice valleys, ice canyons and ice plains. She started looking for caves, through the derivation that the giant inhabitants must be hiding away in fear of her. She ventured into a cavity under a cliff, with icicles hanging off from it like a coarse beast's fangs. She crept bravely inwards in the deepening dark, stumbling occasionally as she tried keeping a hand against the wall, determined that such a difficult place must be a hideout, and she would bring back the desired slain heads from here if it killed her. But Norns, how deep were those miserable beasts tucked away?

She startled when a small light flashed into her eyes, but she quickly figured out that it was the end of the corridor beyond a bend, and with breaths eased, she stepped outside.

Almost immediately, splashing of water hit her ears. Frowning at the peculiarly misplaced sound, she turned to observe the thick bundle of mist. Then she recoiled and reached for her sword, although she hesitated to believe what she perceived: there, in the middle of the snow field, was a steaming pool, and in it, a Frost Giant crouching, presumably washing something.

There were so many peculiarities about this that she couldn't enumerate them at once. So she settled with carefully drawing her sword and creeping up on the vile being for a long awaited death match for valour.

Her hand was halfway towards the handle when a crude bellow interrupted:

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing, barging in like that? Can't you see I'm defenceless?"

Astonishment made her hover for a moment, but she quickly remedied it by swinging the blade into an attack stance before her. Encouraged by the comforting metal in her grasp, she responded:

"I will never trust your word or your demeanour, monster! Prepare yourself, for this is the last day you see this meagre sunlight!"

"How dare you?" came the low hiss as an answer.

Vengeful assault it is, then. Her eyes narrowed in preparation for the well expectable offence, her muscles tensed as the figure moved.

When he stood, she noticed three things consecutively: the giant, uniquely, had pitch dark hair of shoulder length; he was but the size of an Aesir, the scrawniest Jotunn she had seen; and – she gasped – he was naked, and his nakedness didn't stop below the hips as he rose, eventually presenting himself in his entire unveiled glory.

"You've got some nerve, pointing that measly stick at me, Asgardian," said the not-so-giant one with hands on his hips like he weren't as bare and plain as a newborn.

Well, plain wasn’t entirely accurate, as he wore the intricate carvings of his kin all over the body, smooth curves following the muscles and other significant features – quite elegantly sculpted, at least for a barbaric Jotunn build, she thought with some untoward warmth throbbing in her temple. In this critical moment when life or death could be decided within a single breath, half of her attention got wasted on not to glance where his fingers on those unbelievably narrow hips were pointing.

"Are you perhaps dull?" mused the creature then and gestured with a full arm towards the cave entrance, forming each word clearly: "Make your way back where you came from, and I'll grant you mercy this one time; solely because I'm past an especially tiresome group hunt with imbeciles."

The insulting tone stirred Sif out of her stun.

"Or better," she spat, "I'll be the one to hunt you down, and we'll see who's dull. I'll let you get armed now and face me properly for the slaying. Move out, be quick about it!"

The measly but impudent Giant – or whatever it was, she was less and less sure – laughed at her soundlessly.

"All right," he said when he regained control over his breaths, "I see how we stand. But I know one even better." With eyes wide, he bent closer to share the excitement. "Getting armed to spar with you would be a waste of time. I'll fight you off unclothed like this."

She could have exploded from the perky glint in his eyes and the spread arms. Though she tried to stay untouched, anger – so she named the sensation – heated up her cheeks.

"You will learn your place soon enough," she promised mostly to herself, but she remained where she was for now, unsure of what to do: a victory against someone exposed and weak like this was not what she could have bragged about at home, and especially not if this was the only thing she brought back today.

"Oh, I’m sure it’ll be an easy win for you. If you climbed this high in the palace of gods, you won't even break a sweat killing someone like me, will you?"

So that’s what the game was about. He knew very well that her honour wouldn't let her fight an unarmed being, and he evaded the battle this way. No wonder he was trying to get away; with his size, he must have been a weak link, probably subject to continuous scorn. And his marks-

Dumbfounded, she lowered her sword and took a step closer for a better look, meanwhile noting how the movement didn’t even break his infinitely bored posture.

"A royalty," she breathed staring at the curved lines on his forehead, symbols for a crown or horns according to Aesir scripts. "You're meant for the throne? How is that possible? You're so-"

"Majestic, indeed," he cut in.

"Well, not quite-"

"I get it, knightess, you're wondering: how can such an eloquent being be found among barbarians?" The tiny Jotunn presented himself with both arms while speaking, in a languid stride towards the side of the steaming pool, undisturbed by Sif as she smoothly followed his procession with relentless steps and keen eyes. "Could the land of Frost Giants ever nurture something as refined, as poised, as glamorous as this? Could they hide something that no codices in the golden halls of Asgard tell about? Let me soothe your wonder: they can't. Yes, I am Laufey's son; yes, I will have the throne of Jotunheim, and then woe to all that have wronged me. But no, these brutes have no mind to hold me as the jewel in the swamps of their miserable existence,” he boasted while heading for a bundle of clothes on a cleared rock. “I have nurtured my own self, my own talents: everything you're ogling now has been grown through sheer discipline-"

He was about to bend down for the leathers when she stepped in; but before her blade would have stirred, his arm whipped towards her, and she grew motionless as something sharp dug into her neck. His face was languid, his eyelids low over his crimson look at her.

"I merely wish to dress, milady," he cooed like he was victim to the threat. "Won't you allow me this one boon?"

"It's Warmaiden for you, beast," she snarled as her breath let loose again. "And you better learn your place before you think again that I'm ogling anything."

She hid her relief over the fact that she had a voice, her skin intact, though the sharp thing was still pressed tight against her throat. And where in the Nine had he been hiding it up to now?

"I may grace you with your name on my lips, if you give mine due respect,” he replied while reaching for his clothes once again. “Namely, I am Loki, third son of Laufey, would-be King of-" His lofty words merged into a quiet snarl as his lowering arm got smoothly replaced with hers, the much longer sword keeping his chin up. "You may address me as Your Highness, shield maiden."

He uttered the title with such contempt that for an insulted moment, his insightful knowledge failed to catch her attention. But the epiphany reached her before she'd have retorted, and her sharp breath turned into a threatening hiss.

"How do you know so much?" she demanded.

And he laughed, once again that modest hissing sound under his breath, as if he weren't even doing it to mock her, and then he continued obtaining his clothes despite the blade grazing his skin.

"By reading. I taught myself runes, carving them into the snow," he admitted, though his tone felt a lot like he was but jesting. "I used the sharpened bones of my slain ancestors."

"You're an outcast, aren't you?" she inquired with her deepest scorn, just to retort.

That seemed to hit the mark.

“I'm a rightful heir of Jotunheim, and I'll live up to it," snapped the annoyingly fine-wired creature while winding the girdle and kilt around his hips with irate movements.

The Jotunn soldiers Sif had seen always settled with this amount of clothing, so she eyed him in mild surprise as he went on throwing the skin of a soft-furred beast around his shoulders, with her blade following the movements in loutish idleness.

"You may not live up to anything your people don't accept," she pointed out meanwhile. "I hear that resilience is power in this realm, which you seem to lack miserably. Your nation has yet to adopt some higher values."

"Higher values," the creature repeated with honest amusement. "You could list a hundred of those in one sitting, I bet."

"Tell me then, if you’ve read so much, what do you hold for one?"

"There is no light I could shed in your head, Asgardian," he said bending towards her to emphasize the statement. "Your mind is already set, the Allfather's teachings too deeply rooted within you since your birth."

"I only first saw Asgard after I came of age," she protested, too quickly before she'd have considered whether she owed him this excuse.

He took it in with a surprised arch of eyebrows. His exhale was audible when he turned to leave.

"Then you may have a glimmer of hope. Don't waste it. The nearest horde is wandering east of here, by the way, full of the dullest-"

"Waste what exactly?" she snapped while hurrying to catch up with him before he could elope or have time to catch her off-guard. "Do you really hold yourself so-"

"Fine, I'll be your guide. You could have just asked nicely, you know. You should be well aware of the benefits of courtesy, since you come here with your people to preach about it."

“I have no need of a guide,” she announced as they walked on side by side.

“Don’t you, now? How long exactly have you been circling around in the area again? Not even noting that you passed the most significant landmarks you’ll ever find here twenty-four times altogether? And this before I grew bored of you and retreated believing to be rid of you for good?”

“I don’t need a blabbering guide, like you,” she corrected, her look challenging.

“And yet here we are,” he announced brightly. “If you’re not attentive, you’ll find yourself my spouse after I obtained the throne.”

“You’ll regret that a thousand times, I’m not marriage material.”

“Challenge accepted.”

An abrupt silence followed as their thoughts caught up to the mutual jest, filled with unintended smiles. Not yet giving it much significance, they carelessly trudged on in the snow on their joint path.

[americangodstalk]

American Gods: My opinion and review of season three’s finale

SPOILERS AHEAD SPOILERS AHEAD!

I took notes while watching the episode so I can give you my exact thoughts here.

This episode has two good things. Only two. 

The first was that they started to drop off some Shining vibes at the Center of America. Honestly, I was all for it. The Shining is the embodiment of the creepy hotel, and one of my favorite works, The definition of the anomalous, haunted, evil hotel. And the Center of America is supposed to be the Overlook hotel but for the gods. A creepy, dangerous place where they can break down into pure madness or oblivion if they are not careful. Too bad they did not continue and explore this more. You can see the difference between the old seasons and this one because in this one, they mix up together two different moments of the book in one episode: the Center and the vigil. In the old seasons, it would have been two different episodes to give enough screen time for each of these moments/chapters to be adapted faithfully and entirely. 

Two, the Technical Boy’s storyline. It was still too short for my taste, but I admit, they handled the revelation pretty well. Not establishing him as an Old God, but as a bridge between the Old and the New, that’s pretty clever, and making him the first and most powerful of the New, I roll with it. It also makes sense given World’s identity that he would usurp and overthrow who would have been the true leader of the New Gods. My main concern with this that they would have presented Technical Boy as dating back to the prehistoric times, which would have been very problematic for the lore (especially since the New Gods are described as an American phenomenon. And among the “things” we saw in artefact 1, was the first printing, most precisely the European first printing. Anyway)

Now for the rest and the bad parts...

I was ultimately pissed off at how they treated the passing of the body of Mr. Wednesday. It is not a “Norse tradition”, or not one I know of. The vigil thing, now that is done in accordance to the laws of the divine Old Gods, true. But in the novel it was clearly established that what happened at the Center of America was something that was bound by divine rules. RULES not traditions. That was the only thing the technical boy and Mr. Nancy agreed on. It wasn’t a matter of cultural tradition. 

As I mentionned before, the Center of America scene lacked tension. It wasn’t just a place where the god were “powerless” in the novel: it was a place where they could not attack each other because they were too careful surviving on their own. It was a place of danger, of tension, where the technical boy was starting to become mad. And here? Czernobog has sex with the receptionist. Which is another thing that disturbs me: not only is it unfitting with the setting (again, the gods are on such an hedge that they normally couldn’t be that relaxed or casually have sex like that), but it is also unfitting with the character - it is Mr. Wednesday that is a seducer who enjoys charming (literaly) young girls to get a bit of worship now and then. He is the lecherous guy, not Czernobog. 

There are VERY UNFORTUNATE implications with Shadow’s choice between divinehood and humanity. Because here, humanity is represented as black slaves, while divinehood is represented by a white man - even more a white European entity. Very, VERY unfortunate implications here. 

And what the hell is going on with Shadow’s character here? This is not the Shadow I know of, this is not the Shadow of the novel or even of the previous seasons, this is not even the Shadow of post-AG material! Since when does Shadow desires godhood? Since when does Shadow crave power and wants to become a leader? Who the hell is this? 

I still don’t get the fucking point of SHARD. What the hell is that? Especially since Mr. World is clearly Loki. In the novel, the natural tensions between Old and New were enough to draw on the war. The New Gods weren’t some kind of brainwashers invaders trying to puppet humans. I don’t even understand what Shard even is. Hell, in the novel the New Gods even carefully avoided to call themselves outright gods despite being ones, to differentiate themselves from the Old ones.

On a similar note, I realized something else with Lakeside (since it reappears). Many watchers were annoyed at Lakeside, feeling it fake, not understanding why such a town would be considered peaceful or idyllic. And it makes sense, because for most of the screen time, Lakeside showed us to turn on Shadow, accuse each other and hide secrets. In the novel, Shadow spent time with more of the people in town. He bonded with more people than Chad, Hinzelmann and Marguerite. There was much more a sense of welcoming and hospitality there. So again, they rushed it. If they wanted to make a season about Lakeside, develop the town fully. 

And poor Bilquis. She just doesn’t know what to do anymore. Oh, let me correct that: the writers don’t know what to do with her anymore. Ever since the ending of season 1 (which is technically the beginning of season 2, since they clearly reused the scripts left by Fuller and Green), she has been just wandering around, and even now... her character just leads nowhere. That’s what happen when you have a tertiary character of two scenes become a central one. Why not introduce some of the dozens of other divine characters, huh? 

And if there is a season 4, they better up their stakes, because so far the number of gods, both Old and New, on screen, has been dwindling massively. You wouldn’t believe America is filled with deities, huh? At least for the Old Gods they’re more numerous, but the New? Media/New Media is gone without a trace, these new things of Shard we can’t even identify are also out of the picture, the Caretaker disappeared, most of the Agency are just children, Technical Boy took on the role of many of the other New Gods (like gods of radio and the telephone), Money (whoever he is since his character is still confusing) isn’t even on board... Is it just Mr. World, Tech Boy and a bunch of children now? 

And I am not convinced about the Norns speaking and acting here. In the novel they were much creepier. Here, for fuck’s sake, one of the Norns looked at the ground before stepping down the frontdoor. That ruins the entire mystic mood! 

Let’s talk a bit about the vigil stuff, shall we? Outside of the fact they removed a lot of what made this beautiful (Ganesh isn’t here, Ratatosk isn’t here, Jesus isn’t here either, nobody’s fucking here), they also did something I believe to have again ruined the ritual. Here, Shadow is tied to the tree by branches - not by ropes. The tree animates itself and ties Shadow.  This is bad. Why? Because in the novel there was an ambiguity, and that’s what made the power of that scene. You didn’t know if what Shadow saw was supernatural events, real gods, or if it was a sun/thirst/hunger-induced hallucination. That’s what made it even holier, since it was precisely this same ambiguity that ruled the old religions (was it a drug hallucination, or truly a god speaking through the priest’s voice?), 

Finally I do not know what to think of the reveal of Mr. Wednesday’s death being a con, to revive himself... The sacrifice of a son wouldn’t restore Odin to his former glory, at least no by the book’s lore, it would certainly merely bring him back to life maybe, but that’s it. We all know what he truly needs to return to his all-powerful glory. I think the reveal of Wednesday as a cruel con men is also too early. This season built up Wednesday as a figure to root for, with a good and compassionate side. You can’t just ruin it all by the end of the season. It has already been ruined by season 2 and the end of season 1. Wait until season 4 for it... if there is one. 

So yeah... all in all what I have to say is. Missed opportunity. Stick to the book. 

[aurorawest]

Hi! I really admire your writing, so glad you’ve reached a follower milestone! For the prompt request, I would love some Thor & Loki feels, prompt No. 7 or 9 from Whumptober, with Thor whump. I can’t get enough of Loki’s scheming being derailed when his bro gets hurt. Thanks! :)

Thank you so much!! And I have to sincerely apologize for taking forever to get this written. I’m not sure what it is about me that I can churn through 1000+ words in my longfics every day, but give me a oneshot prompt, and it takes me 2 months. Anyway, here it is. This is probably not exactly what you had in mind (not nearly enough Loki scheming, I’m sorry!), but I still hope you enjoy it! Thanks again for the prompt!

Title: Big Damn Hero Rating: T (some injury description and mentions of blood) Relationships: Loki & Thor Word Count: 3.5k Summary: Thor always has to be the big damn hero. Loki gets stuck cleaning up after.

Thank you to my beta @mareebird! Also, this is technically for Whumptober prompt #7, I’ve Got You, but I’m not sure I can claim that it’s a Whumptober fill here on November 23.

Read it on AO3 or here on tumblr below.

“I told you this was a bad idea,” Loki snapped. “Why can’t you ever listen to me?”

“I listen to you all the time,” Thor grunted, his voice tight. “I’ve listened to you and ended up in plenty of bad situations.”

“Yes well, at least those weren’t normally avoidable situations, which this was completely,” Loki said. He glanced at his brother, trying to keep the anger sharper than the worry in his eyes. It wasn’t the battle they’d just fought that had him concerned, nor the possibility their attackers might return. It wasn’t his own wounds that worried him, either. No, it was the fact that as they had fought, the cavern that they were inside had collapsed around them, trapping them in an unstable death trap several hundred feet inside the earth.

Loki had avoided injury.

Thor had not.

Thor’s legs, to be exact, were trapped under several tons of rock. If they were lucky, he was merely incapacitated. If they were unlucky…well.

Thor tilted his head back, letting it hit the ground. His hair was matted with blood from some head wound. It probably wasn’t serious. At least, Loki hoped it wasn’t serious. There was something dripping down the side of his own face too, though whether it was sweat or blood, he didn’t really care to examine. It could easily have been either. When the cavern had collapsed around them, chunks of rock and debris had gone flying, turning blunt force trauma into impalation risks.

And the temperature in the cavern was rising. It already had felt hotter than Helheim in there when they’d been doing battle. Now it was…especially hotter than Helheim.

Something slid down Loki’s eyebrow and dripped into his eye, and he gave in and swiped at it, unable to stop himself from glancing at the side of his hand to see what color it was. There was nothing there except the mealy colored dust of this planet. No blood. Not on his forehead, at least.

“We had to fight back,” Thor said. Was he grimacing? “They were going to destroy that village.”

“So there would be one less village in the universe,” Loki muttered. When Thor glared at him, Loki blasted air out through his nose. “I’m just not sure it’s worth dying over.” The village being wiped out would be regrettable, of course. Thor dying was more on the order of intolerable.

Waving a hand and wincing as he did it, Thor said, “Who said anything about dying? Anyway, risking one’s life is just what heroes do.” There were lines in his forehead, furrows made craggier by the dust caked there. Loki tried to pretend they weren’t because of the several tons of rock sitting on Thor’s legs, though he wasn’t particularly successful at convincing himself.

“Well, no one has ever accused me of being a hero,” Loki said. He was studying the massive column of rock that was on top of Thor. There were spells he could perform to get Thor out, but he was worried it would destabilize the whole cavern and crush them before he was able to call up a shielding spell. Then again, even if he was able to call up said spell, all it would mean was that they would have an even smaller bubble of air to exhaust before asphyxiation. He could rearrange the molecules of all the rock sitting over them, but he would also have to pull Thor behind him while maintaining the spell to make sure they weren’t encased in earth.

“Are you in pain?” Loki asked. Thor looked at him like he was an imbecile. Right. Point taken. Pressing his lips together, Loki cast his eyes over the cavern again. It had been lit by some sort of orange bioluminescence covering the walls before, but the cave-in had destroyed whatever delicate ecosystem had been producing it. There were still a few spots glowing weakly here and there, but the cavern would be shrouded in blackness if not for Loki’s magic. He’d summoned several glowing balls of light which were floating at points around the cavern.

“Will you be alright for a few minutes?” Loki asked. He got the same look in return and rolled his eyes. “Pardon me for attempting to look out for you, brother.”

Thor grimaced, though Loki wasn’t sure if it was because of what Loki had just said or because he was in pain. It could, he supposed, be both. With a grunt, Loki got to his feet, summoning a glowing orb of light to his fingertips as he made a slow circuit of the cavern. The orb inched back along his fingers to his palm, and he held it up, increasing the brightness until as much of the cavern was illuminated as possible.

As he’d suspected. There was no way out.

Swearing under his breath, Loki made his way back to Thor’s side and knelt again. “I have a very bad plan,” he said.

“So,” Thor said, “as usual.”

Normally, Loki would have scowled at him. But Thor was beginning to look pale, wan, almost, and there was sweat standing out on his forehead that Loki didn’t think was solely from the rising heat in the cave. “I have to get you out from under all this rock,” Loki said. “And the only way to do that is with magic.”

There was a silence. Thor blinked at him. “I don’t know if I’d call that a very bad plan,” Thor said.

“Well, good, then we’ll do that bit first, and I’ll tell you the rest of it once we’ve successfully freed you.” Loki could hear how false the cheerfulness in his voice was. He hated this—he was no good at being the chipper one, the optimistic one. Loki had one job in these sorts of situations, and it was to be the bearer of bad news, the one saying I told you so, because he invariably had.

But they were past I told you so now and well into forced optimism. Loki sincerely hoped they didn’t get to the next stage, which was tell me how bad it really is.

“Can you move?” Loki asked, knowing as soon as the words left his mouth what a stupid question it was. “I mean, after I do the spell.”

“Of course,” Thor replied with a confidence that Loki felt was entirely unwarranted.

Gathering his magic, Loki put his palm flat against the column of rock bearing down on Thor. With a slow inhale, he sent the spell into the rock, pushing magic between the molecules of stone and loosening their bonds on each other. He felt the magic flow through the rock, and when it was sufficiently fluid, he said to Thor, “Move. Now.”

Thor did. It was a good thing, because the longer Loki held the spell, the more unstable the column became.

On the other hand, with Thor’s legs no longer crushed under the rock, Loki could see just how badly they were both broken.

Anyone else wouldn’t even have legs. If Thor weren’t Asgardian, all he would currently have was crushed bone and red stains around him that had at one point been his muscle and skin. But Thor was Asgardian, so he merely—merely—had several compound fractures. Not that it wasn’t unsettling to see his brother’s splintered shin bone poking through his skin. But it could have been worse.

Even so, Thor couldn’t walk. It would be entirely up to Loki to get them out of this.

Thor looked paler. Loki knew his brother would never show pain if he could help it, so the fact that there were tight lines around his eyes and mouth made the worried knot in Loki’s stomach tighten. “I’m afraid the only way out of here is doing what I just did,” Loki said. “Only we’ll have to…well, climb out.” When Thor just stared at him, Loki added, “I did say it was a very bad plan.”

“It’s a terrible plan,” Thor said. It was impossible not to miss the strained note in it. “Climb? Climb what?”

“The sides of the passage I create for us,” Loki said with more confidence than he felt. “It’s not like you to balk at something that’s almost certain to get both of us killed, brother. You must have hit your head.”

There was little reaction from Thor, which was worrisome.

Drawing a breath, Loki said, “I know I’m hardly trustworthy, but we don’t have much of a choice. If you were in any state to punch your way through Norns-know-how-many feet of solid rock, I’d certainly let you do it.”

Thor grit his teeth. “What do you mean, you’re hardly trustwor—do you really think I don’t trust you? You think that’s the problem?”

“Well, it’s a problem,” Loki said. “I wouldn’t say it’s the only one, no.”

Breathing in and out deeply, the lines tightening on his face, Thor asked, “What happens if you can’t hold your spell?”

“A quick death, I would think.” Loki glanced up at the rock over their heads. It seemed to be closing in, making the space smaller, though he knew it wasn’t. At least, he thought he knew it wasn’t. He wiped sweat off his forehead again. His eyebrows were saturated with it. “The weight of the stone should crush us instantly.”

Actually, he wasn’t sure of this at all. They were Asgardian, after all. Or, well, one of them was, and Loki was—whatever he was. Jotun and some sort of magical mixture of Asgardian, thanks to his father’s magic. It was possible that their bodies would stand up to the crush of rock long enough for them to suffocate due to the lack of air and the fact that their lungs were being compressed. That would be a far more unpleasant death than every bone in their bodies, including their spinal columns, being broken at once. The latter would end things quickly. If Loki was going to die, he really would prefer it to be quick, though he’d never had much cause to believe that this would be the case—not for him.

Thor propped himself up on his elbows and looked at his legs. His face remained expressionless as he took in the way his splintered bones poked through his skin. Unable to help himself, Loki looked, too. Much of the material of Thor’s pants and boots had been shredded, which put his wounds on full display. Around the punctures, Thor’s skin was purple and swollen, blood oozing out and mixing with the pale dust that covered both of them.

It wasn’t a great look. Loki reminded himself that Thor could survive such an injury. Both of them could. Probably. Loki didn’t particularly want to find out if this was the case for him, as well.

Thor looked up and met Loki’s eyes. “You’ll have to carry me, climb out of here, and do magic.”

“Glad you’re still following along,” Loki said. He was being an arse. It might have been on purpose. It was the only thing he could think of to do.

No reaction to the gibe from Thor. “Is it a difficult spell?”

Loki cast his eyes upward again. Was it a difficult spell? No. Molecular rearrangement of stone was no more difficult than molecular rearrangement of anything else—doors that no one wanted him to walk through, prison walls, metal cages. As long as there was nothing hampering his magic, it wasn’t a challenging spell. The difference between this situation and those others was that typically, he only needed to rearrange a section of material that was a little over six feet high, two feet wide, and a few inches thick at most.

He didn’t know how much rock was sitting over them. He had a vague idea, because he knew roughly how far they’d descended into the cavern as they’d been fighting off their attackers. It was, needless to say, more than a few inches.

“Not terribly,” Loki finally said, deciding to split the difference.

“Don’t lie.”

Loki set his mouth in a line and stared at his brother. “The spell itself isn’t difficult, no. It’s the rest of it, and the length of time I’d be performing the magic. As I said, I know you don’t trust me—”

“It has nothing to do with me not trusting you!” Thor said. His voice was strained. “I don’t want you to get yourself killed trying to save me.”

Loki sucked in a deep breath to argue. “I’m perfectly capable of—er—what?”

Thor rolled his eyes, though the way his hands clenched into tight, bloodless fists rather took the sting out of it. “You can get yourself out of here easily. Right?”

“I…” Loki’s gaping was beginning to make him look like an idiot. Taking a breath, he said, “Yes.”

Jerking his head in a nod, Thor said, “Then you should go.”

Oh. Of course. Right. Big damn hero Thor; he’d sacrifice himself for anyone, even his ne’er-do-well, God of Chaos, Mischief, and Lies brother. “I should go,” Loki repeated flatly. “And what will you do?”

“Loki, I’m not going to let you risk your life for me—”

With an irritated scoff, Loki leaned forward, grabbed Thor under the arms, and said, “Oh, shut up, would you?” He flicked his fingers and a strand of glowing green magic flowed from them, one end looping once around his wrist and the other end looping around Thor’s. “Don’t try to break that connection,” Loki said crossly. “It will make sure my spell encompasses your mass as well as mine, and if you do something stupid in the name of being noble, I will come back for you, so it will be your fault if I die.”

For a moment, Thor stared at the thin twist of green magic around his wrist. Then, he looked at Loki and said, “You’re being stubborn.”

“I am,” Loki agreed. “It’s one of my most annoying qualities, and that’s really saying something.” There was no chance Thor could stand, so Loki wrapped an arm tightly around his shoulder. “Ready?”

There was a long pause. A pointless pause. The longer they dallied, the weaker Thor became, and the more difficult this would be. Perhaps Thor knew that—and perhaps he was more stupid than even Loki thought he was, and actually fancied that Loki would leave him behind if he thought Thor would be a drag on his own escape.

Finally, Thor nodded. “Alright. But if you feel yourself weakening—”

“Thor, shut up.” Loki put a hand out, resting his palm against the column of rock that had so recently been on top of Thor’s legs. A green glow spread from beneath his palm and the surface of rock rippled. Loki could feel the solidness of the rock loosening, the spaces between each atom opening up. He extended the spell as far as he dared, then looked at Thor. “Let’s go,” he said.

Because Thor couldn’t use his legs, this first part was all Loki. One-armed, he heaved Thor into the rock, sparing a second’s thought for the fact that this would probably be a deeply unsettling experience for his brother.

But then there wasn’t time to think. Or—perhaps there was time, but he didn’t have the mental space for it. Climbing the tunnel that he created for them, a foot at a time, was arduous and tense. They made their way up through the column of rock and into the mass of earth sitting over them, and when Loki thought they’d reached the top of it, he sent out a sounding spell to check.

He was right. All he felt to either side was the press of dirt and rock. The tomb imagery was all a bit too apt, so he stayed away from it. He wasn’t particularly claustrophobic, but considering the circumstances, he thought he could be forgiven the flutter of panic in his chest.

He tried to angle their passage, both to make it easier to gain handholds and to give his screaming muscles a bit of a break from bearing most of Thor’s weight. But angling their magical bore-hole increased their time in the earth, and Loki’s magical energy wasn’t infinite. Combined with the physical exertion of carrying Thor, he could feel himself tiring.

And he would not, he would not fail. So he clenched his teeth, pushed his magic out, and tightened his hold on Thor.

When they emerged onto the surface, it took Loki a moment to realize it had even happened. His magic suddenly wasn’t moving rock, and panic clutched at his chest, and he frantically looked at the darkness around them, left, right, upward, where they needed to go—and his eyes fell on three lumpy, shining objects, surrounded by a scattering of pinprick points of light.

Moons. Stars.

The bright, lumpy things were this planet’s three small moons. The rest were the stars of the night sky.

They’d made it.

Loki’s chest heaved as he drew several breaths of clean, fresh air. His arms and legs were trembling with fatigue. His heart was thundering and he realized his entire body under his clothes was slicked in sweat. His clothes were soaked through with it, too, and here on the surface, where the air was cooler, he could feel the clamminess of his damp clothes against his skin.

The line of green magic still connected his wrist to Thor’s. But Thor was prostrate on the ground, unmoving. “Brother?” Loki asked, worry threading through his tone.

Thor groaned and pushed himself onto an elbow, looking up at Loki. “I was thinking,” Thor said.

The worry in Loki’s chest fluttered, then settled back. He allowed the magic to dissolve away into the night air. “Yes?”

A light breeze ruffled Loki’s hair. Thor flopped back to the ground. “Maybe next time we have to fight a group of marauding space pirates, we should do it above ground.”

Loki laughed, which turned into a cough, because he was still gasping for air, his lungs full of dust. “I couldn’t agree more,” he finally said, once he’d stopped choking.

They were hardly in the clear. Thor’s legs were still mangled and they needed to get back to their ship, and there was no guarantee that they wouldn’t face another attack on their way. But with the sky above them and that cool breeze fluttering at Loki’s hair, escape and survival seemed eminently possible. Easy, even. He’d give it a few more moments for them to catch their breath and gather a bit more strength, and then they’d set off.

It occurred to Loki he was going to have to carry Thor. His brother was really going to owe him for this.

The two of them were quiet, their breathing slowing. Loki’s fingers twitched involuntarily in the powdery dust, his exhausted muscles already protesting the further labor he was going to ask of them. The ache in his arms made it tempting to sit there for another hour. Or maybe three. But they needed to go. So finally, Loki groaned and pushed himself to his feet.

“This is going to be very undignified for both of us,” he said warningly. “I’ll never speak of it if you don’t.”

Thor straightened up as best he could. There was an expression on his face that Loki didn’t like—the kind of softness and sincerity that meant something sentimental was about to come out of his brother’s mouth. So Loki held up a hand. “Don’t.”

“I didn’t say anything!” Thor protested.

“You were going to.”

“I wasn’t.”

“You were.” Huffing, Loki said, “You were going to say something…embarrassing. Something about my better nature.”

In the dark, it was hard to tell if Thor was smirking or just smiling. “Actually, I was going to say—I’m glad you’re here, Loki.”

Loki crossed his arms over his chest and looked away, squinting into the darkness. He would have to light their way with magic. Hopefully he was still up to it. “Only because you’d still be trapped down there without me.”

“No.” Thor managed to get to his knees, and when he held out a hand, Loki thinned his lips, clasped his brother’s arm, and hauled him to his feet. Idiotic. They wouldn’t make it more than three steps this way, not with Thor’s legs in the shape they were. Loki slung Thor’s arm over his shoulders and wrapped one of his own arms around Thor’s midsection, supporting most of his weight. “I was going to say,” Thor said, “that I’m glad we’re together, because there’s no one I’d rather fight side-by-side with.”

Letting out a slow breath, Loki rolled his eyes. He tightened his grip. Then he said, “Shut up, Thor.”

Thor grinned. Loki ignored the fondness in his own voice.

The two of them set off into the night.

[iamanartichoke]

Thank you for the tag, @teadrinkingwolfgirl!

2020 Creator Wrap

Rules: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 (or so) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought to the world in 2020. tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

So, this is pretty embarrassing, insofar as I have not created much of anything this year and therefore have little to link to. So there are 2 links and 1 excerpt of a WIP. 

A Graveyard of Stars. I am actually really proud of this one. It’s the first (and only, so far) attempt I’ve made at writing Endgame!Thor, whose depression and nervous breakdown have made him a very different Thor from the one I am used to writing. I like to think I did an okay job, but more than that, it was really a great writing exercise bc I enjoyed really just exploring what I could do with the character. 10/10, would create again. 

The Sea at the End of a Cliff. A perpetual work in progress, but in my defense, I do have a plan. It’s just the “being motivated to write it” part I’m struggling with. This had a few updates this year and some pretty significant plot developments (addressing Brunn’s alcoholism, which I have been trying to do; Loki and Brunn breaking up, bc love isn’t always enough (and also angst); Dagny developing more as an OC and building a friendship with Loki; Loki and Tony developing their friendship; Loki and Thor perpetually being Loki and Thor). So even though it’s not much, I think I can still count it as a win. 

And my current work-in-progress, which started as a seed of an idea that wouldn’t leave me alone and which is a little bit complicated, plot-wise, which I’m trying to work out. My original goal was for it to be 10k, but it might end up 15k. Since I can’t link it yet, here’s an excerpt (which is a continuation of the snippet I posted recently and still needs a lot of polishing but whatever):

“I wouldn’t worry, brother,” Thor says, when Loki gives voice to his concerns - not just the long voyage to Earth but what, exactly, Thor intends to do there once they arrive. Certainly, there is no love lost for Loki. It is in all of their best interests for Loki to be long gone before the Statesman ever breaches Earth’s atmosphere. 

“I have a feeling everything’s going to work out fine,” Thor adds. 

They are standing at the huge window in Thor’s quarters, beyond which lies the vast openness of the stars. Loki glances from the window to Thor, and then back again, a flicker of a smile crossing his features. There is absolutely no reason to believe that everything is going to work out fine - and, in fact, ample reason to believe that exactly the opposite - but just for a moment, Thor’s optimism is a touch endearing. 

Instead of responding outright, Loki just inches a bit closer and nudges Thor’s shoulder with his own. It takes both of them by surprise; neither can remember the last time Loki had reached out and willingly touched Thor first. “You can be quite stupid,” Loki says, before Thor can voice it. 

Thor’s eyebrows draw together. “Why?” 

“Not everything will magically work out. It’s naive to believe that. You’re king now. Naivete is dangerous.” 

“I prefer optimistic, not naive.” Thor lifts his shoulders a bit. “We’ve just gone through Ragnarok, Loki. The end of everything. How can you blame me for wanting to believe it’ll get better from here?” 

“I don’t blame you; I just think it’s short-sighted.” 

“Stupid, you mean,” Thor supplies flatly. 

“Yes.” 

A muscle moves in Thor’s jaw, which makes Loki step away again, re-establishing the space that he’d closed a moment ago. “I suppose you think you know better? After all, you have been ruler of Asgard the past four years. Or were you too busy drinking wine and attending the theatre to concern yourself with the rest of the Nine Realms?” 

Loki hunches his shoulders, refusing to meet Thor’s gaze. He had started this conversation, but Thor’s tone grates on him now and he wishes that he’d said nothing at all. “Forget it,” he snaps. “I’ll keep my concerns to myself from now on.” 

“You be sure to do that.” Thor turns away; he stalks over to the liquor shelf and busies himself with pouring a drink. Loki watches, an odd sensation creeping over him, like he wants to crawl out of his skin. Perhaps Loki had been too blunt in calling Thor stupid, but that doesn’t mean he’s wrong. Thor has barely stepped foot on Asgard in the last four years - it is Loki who kept the realm afloat while Thor gallavanted around the galaxy doing norns knew what. 

Of course Loki enjoyed leisure time; any king would. That did not mean he’d shirked his responsibilities toward the throne. 

Stolen throne, a tiny voice nags him, a voice Loki resolutely ignores. It’s semantics anyway. 

“What,” Thor asks, when he realizes that Loki is just staring at him. 

Loki blinks and shakes his head. He intends to say nothing; instead, what comes out is, “I just wish you listened to me.” 

“You don’t have all the answers, brother, even if you like to pretend you do,” Thor counters. He sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he sets down his half-empty glass. “I’m sorry. I value your opinion.” 

Loki snorts. 

“I do,” Thor insists. His gaze flickers over Loki and something in it softens. “I want you to be here with me, making decisions with me, helping me rebuild Asgard. It’s just that I hate it when you call me stupid. Always have.” 

Loki feels his shoulders slump a bit. “You’re not stupid,” he grants, “but you do stupid things. You act first, and think later. Our situation is so precarious now, I just …” He trails off, shaking his head. “I just worry.” 

“I didn’t realize you felt so strongly about the good of Asgard,” Thor responds, picking up his glass again. He takes a long swallow, so he doesn’t see the stricken look that surely crosses Loki’s face, if the way Loki’s heart drops without warning is any indication. 

Would I have come back if I didn’t? he wants to ask - but, Thor will likely just dismiss Loki’s actions as manipulative in some way, even if he had not yet figured out how. It is what always happens. 

Instead of giving voice to his hurt, Loki just shrugs. His features have recovered by the time Thor looks at him again.

My goal for January is to finish this fic, so we’ll see how it goes. But, there we are for my 2020 creations! Tagging @thelightofthingshopedfor @ms-aqua-marvella @wnnbdarklord @illwynd @lazy-cat-corner @writernotwaiting + anyone else who wants to! 

[emptygoldstudio]

PSYCHONAUTS 2 THEORIES ABOUT PSI CADETS

!ATTENTION!

All theories can be far-fetched due to the small amount of information. All the pictures (except for Lizzie's drawing) are taken from the Internet and I DO NOT own them (except, again, Lizzie's drawing) The post is not trying to offend anyone. These are just the thoughts of a dedicated psi fan. And of course beware of spoilers)

Post where i explained cadets named

Let's start

Norma

Name meaning

Norma is a female name. A single instance of the name Norma is recorded 1203, where it perhaps derives from the Latin word norma, meaning "precept".

More recently Norma has been used as a female equivalent of the name Norman, meaning "Norseman".

<...> the name of the Germanic mythological Norns.

As you go deeper, you can see the mention of Norns:

The Norns in Norse mythology are female beings who rule the destiny of gods and men.

<...> there are many others who appear at a person's birth in order to determine his or her future. In the pre-Christian Norse societies, Norns were thought to have visited newborn children.There were both malevolent and benevolent Norns: the former caused all the malevolent and tragic events in the world while the latter were kind and protective goddesses.

Perhaps this is the essence of Norma as a character: her own destiny will be in her own hands, but until a certain moment she will not believe in it ... Or it's just female equivalent of the name Norman. Who knows how hard Double Fine Productions tried to lay down a secret meaning and did it try at all?

Appearance

Norma looks quite fashionable - in a floral blouse and a brown skirt with a wide belt. Perhaps she will become the "black sheep" character type and be a little bitchy. At least that's how I see her now.

Lil’ funny thing - for me Norma looks like a Frisk from Undertale

Sam

Name meaning

Short for Samuel, from the Biblical name Shemu'el, which means "God has heard", from the Hebrew shama, meaning "heard" and el, meaning "God".

Hebrew is the state language of Israel.

Appearance

Sam has some pretty unique clothes. If we attribute it to religious clothing, then we can say that he can be either a Jew or a Muslim.

Personally, I am more inclined to think that his clothes are similar to Jewish, if you take several outfits and mix them together. The only detail that seems odd to me is the hat. It's not black, it's brown. Therefore, there is a small chance that this is Muslim clothing with an ordinary black jacket and hat on top.

Lizzie

Name meaning

Lizzie is a short form of the name Elizabeth... That’s it. This is all I’ve got.

Appearance

Many punks dye their hair in bright, unnatural colors, comb and fix it with varnish, brilliantine or gel so that it stands up.

Punks also wear various attributes of rocker subcultures: wristbands, bracelets (mostly leather, with spikes, rivets and chains, etc.), and often make them themselves. Many punks get tattoos.

Okay, listen to me. I'm not a professional when it comes to punk culture, but just look at it. Tattoos, badges, the general dark blue color scheme is maintained in clothes, various bracelets and belts, a huge earring, a jacket made of raven feathers(?). If it's not punk, then I don't know who (write your opinion in the comments).

There is one detail that has always confused me about Lizzie. Her hair. They always seem to stretch up. And while I was looking for information about punks, it dawned on me.

Iroquois!

Lizzie has a mohawk, but she pulled on a hat to hide it? Or it's just her style. I do not know. But what I know for sure is that now I will not be able to discern the fact that she has a mohawk.

Morris

Name meaning

Origin from British, Irish or Germanic

Appearance

He is dressed in a neat suit. He may have a wealthy background, which would explain his appearance. But the most interesting thing is his ability. Morris sits in what I would call a wheelchair that is levitated. I will assume that Morris is disabled and cannot walk, which makes levitation the only way to his comfortable existence (Or he is simply too lazy to walk, which is unlikely). From the light bounced off the Gisu, it can be assumed that the color of his levitation ball is yellow or some other light color.

He also has a small notch on his nose. I don't know what it is.

An interesting thing was shown in one of the latest video updates, where Raz and Morris are on the same mission and are chasing something that looks like an octopus. Raz is currently jumping on platforms floating in the air. They are translucent and I will just assume that they are one of Morris's main abilities. In that case, considering how the colors are arranged in the Raz Levitation Ball, I would say that Morris has a yellow levitation ball with a blue border.

Gisu

Name meaning

A submission from California, U.S. says the name Gisu means "Tress, curl, or long hair of a woman" and is of Persian / Iranian origin.

A submission from Virginia, U.S. says the name Gisu means "Gift of god" and is of Indian (Sanskrit) origin.

Appearance

As a result, we have leads for three countries. If you look at the modern clothes of each country and compare them with what Gisu is wearing, it turns out that Iranian clothes look very similar.

I studied the issue as much as I could. Indeed, what covers her shoulders and head looks like a shawl or rusari. Therefore, I declare with full confidence that Gisu is from Iran.

Also, her hair matches the description of one of the meanings of the name:

"Tress, curl, or long hair of a woman"

In her hands you can see something like a skateboard. Maybe it's just a board that she uses like a hoverboard by using levitation.

Cassie

Name meaning

Cassandra means “to excel”, “to shine” and "prophetess".

In Greek Baby Names the meaning of the name Cassie is: Purity; unheeded prophetess.

Appearance

At the moment, Cassie is my favorite character, but also quite mysterious. In case you haven't noticed, in the last updates we were shown exactly her, and not other psi-cadets. And as you know, a regular character will not get as much attention as a key character. It is Cassie who comes out ahead of all the cadets in the scene from the trailer, and she is the focus of the scene.

Many have already guessed that the level made from the books is Cassie's consciousness. It is quite obvious - an abstruse looking girl with glasses, probably likes to read. And there are no other candidates for the role of the owner of the book consciousness yet. But it is about this level that the creators in one of the videos will say that everything was going to this, it is here that the words will sound:

But here's what put me on my guard, these words:

This means that they wanted at least one character to have purple skin. Now let's remember a key character with purple skin, almond-shaped eyes, dark hair, a triangular head, whose cheeks could become sunken over a long life; a character strong enough for his descendants to become some of the best and strongest to be able to become cadets at the Psychonauts' headquarters...

The answer is one

Maligula

Even without considering the weirdness of the game's style, you can see that Cassie and Maligula are quite similar. Just paint Maligula cheeks and you're done. And this gives more room for thought. If Cassie is a descendant of Maligula, what can she do at headquarters? She went there of her own free will, wanting to advance beyond the fortuneteller, which her family never did, or she is part of Galochio's conspiracy, because who will suspect a cadet teenage girl. Is she the mole that Raz is looking for? If that's the case, it's brilliant to hide out in the open.

Therefore, I believe that her ability is hydrokinesis, which is inherited. But because of the beanie and scarf, I'll assume that her ability could have evolved into cryokinesis - the ability to manipulate ice (at least I want to belive in this)

What do you think about all these theories about psi cadets? I would be interested to read.

[pinkplantmakesstuff]

Introducing my newest Guild Wars 2 character: Proto!

There were going to be a bunch more drawings of how they worked but I kinda had a weird day so I didn't get round to it, but I’ll write up their info anyway! I’m gonna put it under the cut coz otherwise this post is LOOOONG.

General About

Proto is a small robot orb designed and made by the inquest - the point was to make a sentient weapon they could control that changes shape on the battlefield to confuse enemies and kill them with ease. Problem is this was the very first one they ever made, and Proto actually didn’t want to kill people or be told what to do. Before they could calibrate it or remove their sentience or whatever, Proto managed to escape from the lab!

Some balooney science coming up: but the orb that Proto actually is, is protected by the light shield that forms the form they are currently projecting. The shield/hologram feels like very hot glass (think a window that’s been in summer sun all day) and can shift into whatever form Proto wants. The larger the shape, the more energy it drains however, which is why they very rarely assume the form of a Charr or Norn. Asura form the can go without recharging for a week, Human or Sylvari Form they can go every couple of days, and Charr or Norn or anything bigger then a person they have to recharge within a few hours.

Their original form was obviously of a glowing red Asura, but to spite their makers they use the colour blue, and also personally feel uncomfortable with looking like an Asura, though they do often give themselves bigger ears like their creator.

Proto choose the name Proto them-self. They are a small orb with not much world experience (at the moment) and are now disconnected from any and all asuran networks. They didn’t want to be called Prototype Designation (And then a bunch of numbers) so they just took the first part of the word Prototype. Their name and the use of they/them is the only thing they know solidly about themselves. They HATE being referred to as an It and hate when people refuse to call them by their chosen name (Which I think makes sense and probably fairly relatable but also they are an orb so are desperately trying to cling onto any form of identity they can claim as their own)

They do however quite like the form I drew them in; I’m trying to find a way that they saw Casey (Alec’s friend who I still haven’t drawn or properly written about) and decided they liked the way she looked so assumed parts of that for their own appearance. 

Proto doesn’t use traditional weapons, instead their body shifts into whatever shape they need. They often shift their arms into very sharp swords for combat, though sometimes turns one arm into a bow to shoot protected light arrows. And yes the hologram/shield HURTS. It’s very very hot, incredibly sharp light so yeah that can slice you in two. The inquest knew (mostly) what they were doing when they designed Proto.

With enough force you can shatter the hologram shield though to reach the orb, I have a scene I wanna draw where someone does that and crushes the orb because I need me some edgy scenes.

If they get injured/damaged they cannot repair them-self and have to seek help.

Initially Proto doesn’t have any legs on the orb part so they have to roll around which they find humiliating (they only do this when they need to sneak away, have run out of enough power to form the shield hologram or are too damaged.) At some point someone kindly makes them some small stumpy robot legs that they will kick you with (though it won’t hurt at all) if you call their orb form cute.

Their orb form is just as expressive as their hologram shied form too, as I tried to show in the drawings. It’s about the size of a baseball I think.

Personality/Behaviour

Proto is very playful, they love telling jokes and tricking people for fun. The biggest problem is they currently have no real concept of what is and isn’t acceptable.

 They also have very very limited capacity of Action and Consequence. For example, they might push you out of a tree because it’ll be really funny, but they won’t want you to get injured. Problem is you have to hit the ground at some point and might break and arm. Proto didn’t mean for you to get hurt but in that moment they wanted to do something becasue it was funny but hadn’t thought it through. This is partly because they initially weren’t designed to think of things like consequences (they were designed to murder on a battlefield with no remorse) and they are a tiny orb with very small rooms for data processing  and very little outside experience/experience with dealing with people and how they work.

Proto also isn’t stupid by any means. They are actually very intelligent. The problem is they initially have very cheap and small memory/data banks much to their own frustration so they find it very difficult to currently learn and expand their thinking. And without being connected to any network they have to try and keep their knowledge of the world itself at the forefront so they can literally survive as this little orb in the big world of Tyria.

They can learn however with time and experience (and maybe some updated memory banks), but will still retain their love of playing tricks.

They can also feel emotions, albeit in a way that most people wouldn’t understand. A real life example would be that Proto has Alexithymia - they can have limited emotions but don’t have the capacity to understand or process them (And don’t come at me about “You can’t compare people with Alexithymia to a robot” Most people haven’t even heard of Alexithymia and it’s something I very much have and I specifically decided I wanted to write into Proto so I could characterise them in a way I could understand. Wick also has alexithymia and so does Axelia. If people want/ I might do it anyway, I think I’ll make a post about alexithymia coz it genuinely has a massive impact on how I interact with the world and people compared to others)

They actually have a voice and it’s the blooming Google US English robot voice synthesizer. So you can definitely hear that they aren’t a ‘real person’.

ANYWAY that’s MOST of the stuff I could currently think of, I wanted to do a bunch of drawings of their weapon form/asura form but I had a kinda weird/bad day so I didn’t get around to it but I still wanted to post this. Overall Proto is like a poltergeist who doesn’t actually mean harm and just wants to make friends. Also I haven’t made them in game yet. I’ll probably make them as a blue sylvari and then try really hard to get one of those fancy effects infusions, but I’ll do that...at some point XD

Also just saying...it’d be neat if other people came up with hologram orb things too XD

[violethowler]

Ride of the Valkyrie

I delayed the second of my “Kingdom Hearts and the Heroine’s Journey” essays because in light of current events last week didn’t feel like an appropriate time to post it. In that additional time, we’ve gotten new screenshots and character information about Dark Road and the new characters that actually has some connection to what I’m talking about in this piece. So now that I’ve made a few adjustments, I present my analysis of Yozora’s role in the Heroine’s Journey below the cut. 

Since the release of Kingdom Hearts III, there has been a lot of speculation about Yozora and what role he plays within the series going forward. Some say that the series is going to use the Versus XIII elements represented by Verum Rex to deconstruct and comment on the nature of the Kingdom Hearts story and universe. Others say that he’s a fusion of Sora and Riku. But all of the speculation I’ve seen surrounding Yozora has been exclusively focused on how he fits into the story in terms of lore and worldbuilding, without actually looking at the structure of the series’ narrative. 

Granted not everyone knows about the Heroine’s Journey or recognizes that the plot of Kingdom Hearts is following it with regard to Sora’s growth. However, Sora’s fading at the end of Kingdom Hearts III clearly represents his death in the metaphorical sense, even if we’re not completely sure yet whether he died in the literal sense. The fact that the scenery associated with Yozora is Shibuya only serves to hammer this point home.

Because of the Kingdom Hearts III secret ending’s focus on Sora and Riku, parts of the fandom have affectionately labeled the game being foreshadowed by this scene by the informal name “DDD2”, in reference to the Dream Eater logo on the sidewalk in one of Riku’s shots framing the KH3 secret ending which suggested that the next game would function as a pseudo-sequel to Dream Drop Distance. Instead of Final Fantasy characters, the original Dream Drop Distance introduced the cast of the 2007 Square Enix game The World Ends With You, in which dead teenagers compete for a second chance at life in a plane of reality that runs parallel to Shibuya. At the end of their interactions in Dream Drop Distance, Sora promised to come visit Neku and the gang in Shibuya at a later date.[1] 

 The secret ending of KH3 depicts Sora, Riku, Yozora, and the Master of Masters in Shibuya, with Sora last seen standing at the Scramble Crossing, where the story of The World Ends With You begins. This same secret ending also depicts a building labeled 104, which Sora and Yozora fight on top of in the DLC Secret Episode. The 104 is TWEWY’s fictional representation of the real-life 109 building, and is a prominent recurring location in that game. The use of TWEWY’s most recognizable locations means that even if this isn’t necessarily the same version of Shibuya that Neku and co. hail from[2], the audience has already been primed to associate this city with death and the afterlife. 

Since the DLC Secret Episode seems to indicate that Yozora has something to do with how Sora ended up in Shibuya, it’s clear what role Yozora plays within this upcoming chapter of Kingdom Hearts. Whatever the actual deal with him is regarding the series’ lore, in terms of Sora’s journey, Yozora is a Psychopomp. 

For those unfamiliar with the term, a psychopomp is a figure from folklore, legends, and myth whose job is to guide the souls of the dead to the afterlife[3]:

In Egyptian mythology, one of Anubis’ roles is to lead the souls of the dead from the world of the living to the entrance of the afterlife. 

In Greek mythology, that role is filled by Hermes and Hecate, while Charon ferries souls from the entrance to the Underworld across the River Styx into the realm of the dead proper. 

And in Norse mythology - which Kingdom Hearts is going to be drawing from to a significant degree in future games if the new characters announced for Dark Road after I decided to delay this essay are any indication - has the Valkyries, who carry the souls of warriors who die in battle to the afterlife. One notable Valkyrie was Skuld[4], one of the three Norns who decide people’s fates.

Though not a goddess, the Skuld of Kingdom Hearts is thematically associated with the role of her mythological namesake when she appears at the end of the original X browser game alongside Ephemer to bring the dying player character into the data world with the rest of the Dandelions. 

Meanwhile, in the DLC Secret Episode for Kingdom Hearts III, Yozora displays abilities related to data and he seems to be able to manipulate the Final World, a place inhabited by the spirits of the dead who have not moved on from the world of the living. 

So even if one is unfamiliar with the full development history behind Final Fantasy Versus XIII and the significance of what Verum Rex represents in that context, the Secret Ending and Secret Episode of Kingdom Hearts III visually and thematically associate Yozora with death, the afterlife, and resurrection.

The original backstory of Final Fantasy Versus XIII implies that this mythological role was even part of the concept for Noctis/Yozora from the beginning of Versus XIII’s conception. According to the early information about Versus XIII and its lore, those who have near death experiences could see the souls of the dead ascending into the afterlife and gained powers derived from The Kingdom of the Dead[5]. This concept was scrapped when Versus XIII was overhauled into Final Fantasy XV, but if Nomura felt so strongly about the original Versus XIII concept that he incorporated overt references to it into Kingdom Hearts, then the pre-overhaul lore should be taken into account when speculating on Yozora’s role in the overarching narrative. 

As I mentioned in “The Heroine’s Journey of Sora”, the Secret Ending of Kingdom Hearts III is setting up the “Initiation and Descent” stage of Murdock’s monomyth. In this stage of their journey, the protagonist can sometimes be accompanied by a psychopomp figure who serves as a guide through their Descent. The psychopomp’s words, actions, and presence provide the spark that the main character needs in order to realize the lesson that they must learn in order to complete the final phase of their journey. 

While I have only seen a few instance of these psychopomp figures in a Heroine’s Journey story, the ones I have seen taken on one of the following forms: 

A dark reflection of the main character. 

A parental figure

A distorted version of the protagonist’s Animus. 

As I mentioned in “The Heroine’s Journey of Sora”, Riku is the one character in the series who meets the qualifications to serve as an Animus figure. And as Kingdom Hearts III notes, Yozora bears a strong resemblance to Riku, a connection which is emphasized by one of the Kingstagram posts in the game (an emphasis which was unfortunately lacking in the English localization) as well as the novel adaptation. 

While we still do not have enough information to divine precisely how Yozora and Verum Rex fit into the cosmology and lore of the Kingdom Hearts universe, there is still enough to determine his function within the framework of the Heroine’s Journey that Sora is on. Based on the connections to The World Ends With You, the origins Versus XIII lore, the structure of the Heroine’s Journey, and parallels with the Kingdom Hearts series’ previous references to mythology, Yozora is a psychopomp figure who will guide Sora one way or another through his Descent into the underworld. 

Sources:

[1] Kingdom Hearts 3D: Dream Drop Distance. Square Enix, 2012. 

[2] Kingdom Hearts 3 Ultimania - Main Nomura Interview Translated; March 12, 2019. https://www.khinsider.com/news/Kingdom-Hearts-3-Ultimania-Main-Nomura-Interview-Translated-14763

[3] Psychopomp - Wikipedia 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Psychopomp

[4] Skuld - Wikipedia

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Skuld

[5] Final Fantasy Versus XIII - Final Fantasy Wiki  https://finalfantasy.fandom.com/wiki/Final_Fantasy_Versus_XIII

[where-is-caithe]

My attempt at making her look a bit more punk + it's been a while since I've drawn her covered in blood uwu

[valiant-portabella-pirkko]

Since the odds of it ever actually becoming a thing in-game are pretty much nonexistent and I thought it’d be a blast to brainstorm, I decided to casually build what a hypothetical Scarlet-channeling Elite Specialization for the Revenant Profession might look like.

Dialogue starts about two thirds down, so feel free to scroll for that if game mechanics aren’t your thing-- I admit that was definitely the fun part.

> Elite Specialization; Legendary Instigator Stance

Profession; Revenant Specialization Title: Instigator Associated Legend: Scarlet Briar / Ceara Specialty Weapon: Rifle Theme: CC + condition damage, mid to close range AoEs Description: An Instigator channels the raw, mysterious power of the Mists into technological applications, harnessing potent magic from the beyond to overcharge their advanced weaponry. Through the use of Mist portals they can even drag forth Scarlet’s deadly machinery to do their bidding, called directly from Fractals of the not-so-distant past. Combined with the brutal madness of their invoked spirit, an Instigator’s fierce and adaptive nature makes them a dangerous foe up close and at range.

Weapon skills; Rifle

1: Aether Bolt     Fire a scorching energy shot from your rifle, burning your target.    Aether Pulse     Blast your target with a burst of energy, inflicting burn. Does more damage to closer targets.    Aether Lance     Shoot a lance of raw energy, damaging enemies in a line and burning them. 2: Point Blank     Step through the Mists to your target, blasting them with your rifle at close range for high damage. Does increased damage against burned foes. 3: Clubbing Blow     Spin and swing your rifle, striking nearby foes in a wide arc to knock them back. - Becomes Blaze of Glory if it hits an enemy.    Blaze of Glory      Continue spinning, spraying flames from your rifle to create a ring of fire around you that damages and burns foes that cross it. 4. Ley Geyser     Draw out intense magical energy through a rift, inflicting damage on enemies in the vicinity and granting vigor to allies in range. Does increased damage for each condition on a target. 5: Explosive Exit     Fire a blast from your rifle at the ground, evading backwards while damaging and knocking down nearby foes.

Utility Skills; Legendary Instigator Stance 1: Toxic Siphon (heal)     Place a toxic turret that inflicts poison on nearby enemies, adding a stack of regeneration to allies within range for each foe affected. Explodes into a cloud of poison when destroyed. 2: Deadly Windup     Place an explosive watchwork that rushes the nearest foe, exploding upon defeat to damage and burn nearby enemies. 3: Aether Shield     Briefly gain damage resistance and stability from an energy shield. When the shield disperses, gain retaliation according to the damage it absorbed. 4: Maddened Machinations     Harness the unstable genius of Scarlet Briar to decrease skill cooldown times and gain vigor, but taunt targets with each hit.     Return to Sanity      Release the Maddened Machinations skill early. 5: Scarlet’s Final Stand (elite)     Teleport backwards and temporarily summon a large holographic projection in your place, swapping weapon skills to control it from a distance. Damage to the hologram will drain energy instead of health, dispersing it once all energy is depleted.

Traits, Minor; 1: Rifle Proficiency     You can wield rifles. 2: Deadly Persistence     Energy no longer drains while out of combat, but can only be charged by damaging enemies with weapon skills. Weapon skills have decreased energy usage. 3: Violent Escalation     Periodically gain might according to your energy level. At maximum energy, gain swiftness. 4: Lingering Agony     Conditions you inflict last longer. Periodically gain energy according to how many foes are currently being damaged by conditions you inflicted.

Traits, Major; 1: Blink Device     Dodge is replaced with a short-range blink teleport that unleashes a small burst of energy upon arrival, knocking back nearby foes. 2: You Should Run     Ending Maddened Machinations early uses up all remaining energy to fear nearby foes. The duration increases according to the amount of energy used. 3: Dangerous Combination     Afflicting a poisoned foe with burn causes a small explosion, damaging and burning nearby enemies.

Dialogue; - Invoking Scarlet: Oooh, this is going to be fun!

Scarlet: Ready to play with me, dear?

Scarlet: (maniacal laughter)

- Ending Maddened Machinations Early Scarlet: Ahaha, was I too much for you?

Scarlet: Aww. I was just getting started!

- Using Scarlet’s Final Stand Scarlet: Let’s show them what we can do.

- Idle Scarlet: How dull. I do hope you didn’t call me all this way just to stand around! [Player Name]: Of course not, we’ll be back in action soon. Be patient. Scarlet: I certainly hope so~! I do the darndest things when I get bored, you know.

Scarlet: Say, whatever happened to my beautiful abominations, hm? [Player Name]: They’ve long since been deconstructed and melted down. Scarlet: (gasp) Scrapping such modern marvels! Now that’s just a crime.

- Idle (if Sylvari) Scarlet: Ugh, you Dreamers and your Wyld Hunts. It’s so… Stifling. [Player Name]: What even was your dream? Scarlet: Hm… It’s almost funny, after all these years I can’t even remember.

- Idle (if paired with Ventari invocation) Scarlet: You can’t possibly expect me to work with… Him. [Player Name]: I think you could have learned a lot from Ventari. Scarlet: Sorry, but I’ve never been much for ethics and philosophy, dear. [Player Name]: I’ve noticed.

- Idle (with Scarlet’s Gift in inventory) Scarlet: It looks like you forgot something, darling! I spent a lot of gold on that mailing campaign, you really should open it.

- (Destroying Scarlet’s Gift) Scarlet: Aww, you’re no fun.

- At Lion’s Arch Scarlet: My, what a gorgeous makeover! They really should be thanking me. [Player Name]: I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you. (if human) [Player Name]: Don’t get uppity, it’s not like you were the designer. (if asura) [Player Name]: I liked it a whole lot better before you destroyed it. (if charr) [Player Name]: Ha ha, very funny. You’re lucky only I can hear you. (if norn) [Player Name]: That doesn’t even begin to make up for what you did. (if sylvari)

- At Kessex Hills Scarlet: Oh, I do just love the smell of toxic spores in the morning! [Player Name]: You’re a spirit, I know you can’t actually smell them. Scarlet: Still a party pooper, I see.

- At Omphalos Chamber Scarlet: Ah, Mother. She and I never did see eye-to-eye, you know. [Player Name]: You mean she didn’t want you to destroy Tyria? Scarlet: Well… yes. But that was a later development.

- At Rata Sum Dorms (if Asura) Scarlet: Oooh, so many memories! I wonder if they still tell fun stories about me. [Player Name]: Other than about your expulsion and eventual fall into madness, no. Scarlet: Well, a legacy of infamy is better than none at all I suppose.

- At Hearts and Minds (beginning) Scarlet: Here we are at last. Let’s finish this, shall we? [Player Name]: I’m glad that this time we’re on the same side.

[crystalelemental]

OH MY GOD HOW DID YOU FUCK THIS UP?!  THIS WAS THE EASIEST LAYUP IN THE ENTIRE WORLD AND SOMEHOW YOU FUCKED IT UP, GODDAMMMIT HEROES!

Okay, let me get this out of the way.  Both Mythics.  Triandra AND Freyja.  So cool, that...really fucks my day up.  I love Freyja, she’s easily the best central antagonist in the game thus far, but the rest of Green...sucks.  It sucks.  I have absolutely no need of Triandra, nor any desire to pull her.  She has good fodder though, not gonna lie.  Attack/Speed Push 4 is beautiful fodder for a unit I cannot give a shit about.  Speed/Res Rein is...okay.  Honestly she’s overall okay.  The Guard effect on foes is nice, but frankly I’m not really worried about that.  My Dark defense team is good enough.  And on that topic, they’re cycling effects for Mythics.  Triandra is a straight up improvement on Yune, if you consider Yune the worst Dark mythic.  I don’t, so I actually like Yune better, but you know.

Freyja though?  Seriously, what is this?  Like, if we were gunning for the most severe form of powercreep yet, look no further.  She’s a cav unit, whose weapon is DC and built-in speed-based damage reduction.  Okay.  So the best of both Dimitri in one, fascinating.  Attack/Speed Solo 4 is amazing for a unit with DC inherent, and speed-based damage reduction.  But like.  What is that signature B-skill?  So just by default, gives herself all stats +2, and inflicts -2 to all stats of the foe.  But wait!  If the foe has a bonus, it turns their bonus into a combat penalty, and gives her the same bonus!  All of this is based on her being by herself, but...speed based damage reduction and DC weapon.  What possible support does she need?  Oh, and she’s a Light mythic.  Can we put that on Astra?  Please?  Just...let me put that on Astra.  Just fuck Thrasir’s day up.  Give us an easy win there.  We already have Mila for supertanking, we really don’t need this.

So Green is fucked.  I only want one unit, though.  Triandra is great fodder, and Hel is also great fodder, but ultimately I just want that Freyja.

But hey, what about Colorless?  You know, the thing I’ve been pinning my hopes on for the last month.  I mean, we’re at the Braves right?  It’s gotta be Brave Claude!  ...oh, what?  Oh, it’s Shinon?  One of my most disliked characters in the entire series?  Oh well, that’s great, thanks I guess.  Seriously, why?  Why this?  Why now?  I hate Shinon.  This literally ruins everything.  Even with all his fodder there’s no way I can recover from pulling like 8 of him and no Corrin like I did with fucking Eir when I was after Grima.  I can’t go through that with this fuck.  I guess Water and Wind season remain a fucking disaster then, because I really, truly cannot.  Like, who would even take it?  Time’s Pulse isn’t that great, I don’t need it on many units.  Lull Attack/Speed is great, and definitely the most valuable thing he’s got overall, but even then a lot of units who want it have it.  Deadeye is shiny and new, but I can’t really think of anyone who desperately wants it.  Norne and Faye both need recovery, as does V!Faye for Aether Raids.  L!Leif has his superior signature special.  There’s just...no one.  No one needs this.  No one wants this that badly.  So like...what the fuck?  What am I actually going to do with like a dozen Shinon if this banner goes south, huh?  Fuck, I cannot believe they fucked this up.

Red and Blue both suck, no one cares.  Brave Lysithea is nice, but Sothis is the actual worst Mythic, and L!Eliwood isn’t good either, so Red is a dead draw.  Blue has Apotheosis Anna for some reason, but then we get Tiki and Azura, characters I have at +10 and +9 respectively from pitybreakers.  So they’re useless.

Honestly...I’m kind of upset.  This was supposed to save my Arena off-seasons.  Water and Wind were supposed to be salvaged.  But nope, not like this.  Worse, Freyja is on the worst possible season.  Like, Eir is now +10, she’s way too useful for scoring and I’m not getting Freyja to +10, so she can’t go.  Can’t get rid of Mila because then V!Faye won’t do her job or supertanking, and we lose the Isolation effect on dancers.  Can’t get rid of Peony because she’s too valuable as Dancer support when you have a limited turn count, and an armor unit that needs to be able to travel.  Freyja is literally dead weight.  It’s cute that she can probably solo entire defense teams with no issues, but you need someone to snipe the pots and take care of everything else, so like fuck this.  And hilariously, it looks like Triandra is a great counter to her speed-based playstyle.

Basically, they fucked literally everything up.  Freyja being a light mythic is a disaster.  Had she been Astra, she’d be the best unit in that season no questions asked.  Had they just put Brave Claude on colorless, it would be the perfect spread, but now I’m not even sure I want to try that hard on the fucking thing, for fear of fucking Shinon.  We went from this being a massive enticing banner, to being almost a full skip.  I won’t.  I want at least one copy of Freyja for reasons, and I will try for Corrin and Leif, just to get somewhere on them as projects for Arena.  But my god, I’ve never seen something that looked so good turn out to be such shit.

But hey, at least this means saving some of my expenses for F!Morgan who comes back in a week and a half, or the new Heroes who will probably be a disappointment anyway!

[mcfiddlestan]

Last 10 Fics Tag Meme

Rules: Post the first lines of your last ten fics read or written and then tag others to do the same.

No one tagged me, but I saw it in the tags of one of my ships and it looked fun.

1. Untitled WinterFrost Single Dad AU (Bucky/Loki)

The sound of his front door opening and closing pulled Loki from a deep sleep. So deep, it took him a moment to remember where he was and how he knew that was his front door. His eyes opened slowly once, twice, and then again, to nothing but the darkness of what he was sure was his bedroom. Then the pounding started. Incessantly, pulsing around his entire head. Damned migraines. Loki let out a low grain, thought fuck it, and buried his face deeper into his pillow. Moments later, the door to his bedroom pushed open.

“Time to rise, Sunshine.”

Loki grumbled at the familiar voice, and slowly, he turned his body, rolling onto his back. “Why are you always so chipper in the morning? Oh, for Norn’s sake!” He threw a pillow over his face as the curtains were pulled open and let the blinding daylight flood the room. “I’ve got a damn migraine!”

2. Untitled Stucky Modern AU (Steve/Bucky and a healthy side of Sam/Natasha)

Bucky, his mind drawing a blank, was idly strumming his guitar when he heard the hard slam coming from next door. He surmised his neighbor and best friend, Natasha, had returned from her date, and assumed she’d be over in a few minutes to tell him about it. But when he heard a couple more distant slams and one very heavy thump against their shared wall, his curiosity got the better of him. Setting aside his black Fender, and stepping carefully over a dozing Avalanche, his tuxedo cat, Bucky walked barefoot through his apartment, into the hall, and breezed right into Natasha’s apartment.

He didn’t see her, but Bucky heard Natasha swear sharply, followed by something rattling against the hardwood floor. Waiting, he slipped his hands into the pockets of his dark sweatpants. Bucky watched as the top of Natasha’s head, burgundy hair in a stylish messy bun, popped up as she’d bent to pick up what he suspected was the cap to the bottle of vodka in her hand. “Hey, babe.”

Natasha turned dark green eyes on him, a sour expression pinching her usually attractive features, and said nothing, only moving to pour herself a full tumbler glass of the clear liquor. Bucky watched her swallow down most of it then waited silently as she filled it up once again.

He moved to rest his elbows on her pub height dining table. “Bad date?”

“You think?”

3. A Boyfriend for Christmas (Bucky/Loki)

“I need your help.”

Loki stared at the man in his doorway for a good five seconds, his lips in a thin red line, and his perfectly groomed black brows arched in curiosity. The man — his neighbor, Loki knew — was good-looking, Loki thought as he took the time to look him over, lips turning up in a soft grin. “Good evening to you, too, 9B.” The man’s lashes fluttered as they did a quick change from widened panic to a more relaxed gaze. Norns, his eyes were an impossible blue. “I can’t promise to help, but try me,” Loki drawled, taking a casual stance, crossing his arms as he leaned against the door jamb.

“Okay. Believe me, I know how this is gonna sound, and I swear I’ll make it up to you — somehow — but…well…okay. Here goes…” Loki cocked a brow, amused. “I need you to be my boyfriend for one night.”

Surprised, and maybe even surprising his neighbor, too, Loki laughed, a tickled near-giggle, and straightened. “You need me to do what now?”

4. Welcome Home -- working title (Bucky/Loki)

Bucky woke with a start, shooting up in his bed, and opening his eyes to near darkness, but for the faint orange glow of the streetlamps outside his bedroom window. For a moment, he was still in the dream; back in the desert, embedded in dirt, surrounded by heat. And flanked by Steve. On his right. He rubbed at his eyes, harder than necessary, willing the image of his best friend smiling and laughing to fade away again. 

Two years had passed since it all happened. The first year was the hardest. Stuck in the hospital, healing, speaking to no one but nurses and doctors — and the occasional military personnel, looking for the gory details. The minute he was out, Bucky was hounded by government officials wanting him to attend various memorials in the good captain’s name. Wanting him to relive the worst day of his life — which is saying a lot for a kid from Brooklyn who wasn’t far from ground zero on September 11, 2001. Was it any wonder that Bucky chose to up and disappear and go into hiding once it all finally ended?

5. WinterFrost Tumblr PWP Prompt (Bucky/Loki)

Bucky barged into the loft apartment, a dark expression screwing up his face, and paused just as the door slammed closed. His eyes, hidden beneath the black face paint smeared around them, like a burglar’s mask, did a quick scan of the layout of the open space before him. He kicked off his muddy boots, leaving them near the door, knowing his ‘loftmate’ wouldn’t take kindly to him leaving a dirt track through the well-kept place. He made a quick mental note to take care of the boots first thing in the morning. His mouth in a deep pout, Bucky thought to himself that it was times like this when he returned from a mission exhausted and not in the mood for company, that he wondered why he ever decided to move in with Loki, resident God of Mischief.

6. Post-Civil War/Ragnarok Frostiron AU (Tony/Loki)

There was no doubt in Tony’s mind just exactly what -- or rather who -- brought that subtle shift in atmosphere into the lab. He’d been expecting it, at some point, if he was honest with himself. And while a small part of him felt relief, there was, always had been, that slightly narcissistic part of his personality that would resent not being at the top of a certain someone’s to-do list.

Tony felt the faint flutter of air sweep across the back of his neck first, which reminded him he really needed to get a haircut. His nose tickled at the sharp tang the wafting scent of ozone often left in its wake. Realization about what exactly was about to transpire had Tony’s stomach doing a bit of a flip; pride, though, forced him to remain with his back to where he felt someone else’s presence. For a fleeting moment, Tony wondered if he could handle this.

Recalling everything that had happened since he last saw his visitor -- the mess with Ultron, the devastating truth about his parents’ deaths, the ends of friendships he actually mourned, the airport, Rhodey, the kid, the Accords -- all of it was a rollercoaster ride for which Tony had never signed up. But this...this one had hurt. The worst part was having to hide the hurt, the heartbreak, because no one knew. No one; not Pepper, not Happy. Not even Rhodey. Nobody knew the blow it was to the one they called Iron Man. How could they? No one knew that Iron Man had fallen in love with the God of Mischief.

7. Untitled Royals AU (Tony/Loki, with a splash of Bucky/Loki)

“Do you enjoy embarrassing me like this?”

Odin, King of Asgard, aimed a dark look across the conference table at Loki, the younger of his two sons, his anger and frustration growing by the second. The air of arrogance and disinterest emanating from Loki, raven-haired and more handsome than was good for him at an aggravating twenty-four years old, was making Odin curl his weathered hands into tight fists on top of the table. Loki looked at him, a questionable flash of surprise crossing his pale, chiseled features, his mostly-green eyes all but twinkling at him, mocking and laughing. 

“Of course I don’t.”

He was no fool; not Odin Borson. His expression darkened further, as he waited for the next words to come from Prince Loki’s mouth. 

“It’s not that I don’t enjoy embarrassing you. It’s more that it’s…a perk.” He smirked at Odin, like the brat he was, and Odin’s response was interjected by the Queen’s subtle astonishment. 

“Loki.” His eyes moved to her, and her disapproving look, and the smirk vanished. 

Odin slammed the newspaper that he’d been keeping in his lap to the glossy top of the long mahogany table. The headlines of Loki’s chaotic week in the States screamed about alcohol, fast cars, and the general recklessness of a perceived overly-spoiled son of royalty. “This is not a joke, Loki.”

8. Take A Bow (Tony/Loki)

Loki rushed through the narrow hallway, coughing to clear his throat of the makeshift fog that had filled the stage for the final moments of the play. By the time he reached the haven of his dressing room, his necktie was undone and his shirt was half unbuttoned. The hurried shouts and stomps of people working backstage were blissfully drowned out as Darcy, his new young assistant, quickly closed the door behind him.

“Great show tonight, Boss,” Darcy chirped as she took the discarded tie Loki handed over and waited to take his costume jacket and vest. Loki chuckled a thank you as she turned away from him. He urged her several times already to just call him by his name, but she insisted on calling him Boss, like he was a gangster in the 1930s. Darcy returned with a glass of water and Loki smiled his thanks before taking a long drink.

9. The House Guest (genderswapped FrostIron, fem!Toni/fem!Loki)

Loki sat in the front seat of a beat-up red convertible and stared blankly ahead. A mixture of hurt and anger had her brow furrowing, her lips pressed tightly together, and her chin, goddammit, was trembling. As Fandral droned on, giving his pathetic explanation, Loki did her best to focus on the other sounds around her — the birds chirping in the late summer morning; a neighbor’s dog barking in the distance; someone’s car alarm down the street malfunctioning — and fought to keep her eyes, fixated now on the white garage door in front of the car, from filling with tears.

Bullshit. She was hearing noting but utter bullshit. Her high school days behind her, Loki had spent the summer constructing plans for the next few months that didn’t involve going to her father’s alma mater in New York and spending the next four years of her life behind more piles of books. She had no interest in swapping high school jocks for frat boys. What she’d had were plans to go on a road trip across the States — and beyond — with Fandral, making love and making music.

But, apparently, Fandral had other plans. And the shitty reasons he was giving for not staying with Loki weren’t helping her understand any better.

10. WinterIron Bodyguard AU (Bucky/Tony)

“Founder and CEO of Stark International and Columbia professor wife critically injured in car accident.”

“Howard Stark, 69, runs car off-road in upstate New York.”

“Socialite couple Howard and Maria Stark injured in car accident. Condition, for both, critical.”

Tony watched the words all but screaming at him from the two flat-screen televisions mounted side-by-side on his bedroom wall, frozen in the spot where he stood by his bed. The words the news anchors spoke, giving details of the accident, were nothing but white noise in his ears. He’d gone numb. He processed nothing. Except that his parents had been in a horrific car accident — a shot of what was left of father’s silver Cadillac made Tony’s knees give out and he dropped to the foot of his bed.

How could anyone survive that? he thought to himself.

----

Tagging @teadrinkingwolfgirl @incredifishface @maeve-curry-writes @stephrc79 and literally anyone else who wants to/feels like doing it (tagged peeps, don’t feel obligated!)

[mystery-salad]

Reposting this since legit somehow Zero of the tags or bolding carried through holy shit

30 questions: GW2 edition I was tagged by @where-is-caithe and @just-eyris-things

This can be done in many different ways: get asks by your followers, pick some questions for yourself, answer the whole damn thing at once, etc! You can draw, write (to explain in details or not) or just post screenshots! If you miss one it’s totally okay, whether it’s by lack of answer or time. Have fun!

1. Favorite living world season?

As much as some of the fights feel really badly balanced, I enjoy LS2 for the close knit new family feel. The whole little group is still figuring their dynamics out and finding their independence, and it’s a real good found family sorta feel as you Go Through A Lot.

2. Favorite expansion?

Heart of Thorns holds a special place in my heart (lol) just for being the first new story since I’d started playing. It’s got many flaws looking back, but nothing has actually hit me harder since. Maybe because anet overuses the punch of tragedy and death an I’m numb to their attempt to low blow us after several years *shrugs*

3. Favorite soundtrack?

The music in Caledon forest was my first step into gw2, and it will forever hold the top spot for me, alongside the original character select screen music.

4. First profession you played?

Ranger! Still one of my absolute favorites.

5. First race you played?

Sylvari, go figure

6. Favorite Destiny’s Edge character?

It’s a tough choice for me! Eir and Caithe rank highest though due to their unconventional character arcs for women. They’ve both got a lot of nuance and challenges and I respect that.

7. Favorite Dragon’s Watch character?

Again gotta pick two, Braham and Rox have a unique feel too and are amazing foils to each other’s characters. I’d like to see more of them together again.

8. Favorite Elder Dragon?

I love the potential held in Bubbles. Deep sea dragon, whose awakening scared even the krait off? Give me those deep sea horrors.

9. Best boss fight (story)?

I honestly really love the final fight against Zhaitan. It really managed to encapsulate the feeling of fighting a larger than life powerful enemy with an army at your back. No big fight since for me has had the same grandeur to it. We did a lot of fighting dragons in “smaller” ways or with “smaller” teams that just feel more...compact, ya know? I want that grandeur back.

10. Best boss fight (fractal)?

Jade maw is fucking wild! And it’s not the boss of its fractal but the giant living statue.

11. Best boss fight (raid)?

Never been in one, would love to one day when I’m in a guild who does them when I’m awake...

12. PvE or PvP or RP?

PvE by far, and RP is fun when you can find the right people.

13. Favorite canon couple?

In one map, there’s a seraph soldier and a bandit having a secret date. They’re so fucking extra and sappy and unnecessary and I love fining them and reading their cheesy star-crossed dialogue.

14. Favorite fanon/self made couple?

With another player, my favorite currently is Matthias with @ascalonianpicnic‘s Aildyn. The two have a very good dynamic.

Solo, I really love my new commander, Kai, with Caithe. I’ve built up a back-an forth for the two that I’m a lot more compelled by than I thought I’d be! I’m excited to share more on these two.

15. Favorite quote?

“sneaky mode engaged”

16. Most emotional cinematic?

The end of Heart of Thorns. A victory, a tragedy, and a clear sign that it’s set off another disaster just by you winning. There’s so many layers to that *boom*

17. Favorite VA?

I’m so bad at naming VAs but whoever voiced the asura female MC knows what she’s about

18. Post a fun screenshot!

Still love this one~

19. Post a landscape screenshot!

20. Most used mount(s)?

I spend most time on raptor still, followed by griffon!

21. Favorite mount skin (for every mount you have)?

Raptor: crested plainsrunner

Springer: kourna jackrabbit

Skimmer: river mothwing

Jackal: lucent sands

Griffon: clouded corvus

Roller Beetle: deep desert scarab

Warclaw: vigilant saberclaw

Skyscale: axejaw skyscale

22. Favorite weapon?

Longbow is my favorite kind of weapon, I like it on every single class that uses it. Favorite overall weapon? Idk man too many to pick from at this point.

23. Favorite gear set?

I’m always a sucker for the sunspear armors

24. Favorite title?

Killer Queen

25. Something you worked really hard to get?

Astralarias is my only legendary so far and it’s pretty rad. Really like Mawdrey too.

26. Favorite GW2 Youtuber / GW2 related video?

Daelin Dwin

27. Most used miniature?

Mini Quail!!! The feather bouncing on the head is an adorable little feature.

28. Most used novelty?

Embiggening tonic!

29. Number of achievments points?

Little over 18,000 now

30. Something you’d love to see in GW2?

Norns getting the same revamp humans got on african american faces and hairs since they’re also based on humans :) Where is it anet? Where’s the fairness? And asura and charr both have some afro-inspired hairs that need better textures now. When anet.

I tag anyone who hasn’t done this yet! Idk who has or hasn’t been tagged in these couple of weeks, but if you haven’t done this yet I’d love to see it via tag 💕