#lighthing work

[buckles-sidespace]

Being an artist who is also a trying-to-write-more-writer it is so Interesting that when I go through phases of drawings a lot I look at the world through the lens of drawing: through shapes, through colours, through lighthing and line work. When I start writing more I start looking through the world in small details and smells, in textures, in feelings that can't quite be described as simply.

[annabelle-creart]

There's more?

Much more YEY, more of the multiverse meeting because of bad weather :D

Part 1 Part 3

I did the 4 bots

Now let's make the human team (Greenes and villains not included because that's too damn much)

This time there was lighthing, but nothing came, at least at view, but from the sky and in a robotic suit, the old man, blinded by a curse, started his new plan to go back home

The name? Police Chief Charlie Burns...

And yes, this is the Charlie Burns from @gelu-the-babosa-multiversal 's miraculous ladybug au, why? Because I thought it would be funny to have a corrupt mecha police officer and the Akumatized Jhon Wick x Robocop son in the same room (joke)

Charlie, blinded by Hawk Moth's moth, became a suit of armor full of the best tech with the only objetive of make his island and family safe, but well, things happens, and he became kind of... cuckoo

Also, ref post because I know mine is not enough and I think this is really good, despite I’m not a miraculous fan

Despite the lighthing stroke at the founder's statue, everybody were at their homes to notice, except by someone, who deep in the caverns and old tunnels, explored for a way out, finding a large and tall hallway full of strange tech and almost unuseful but fascinating, but what he was about to see wouldn't be fascinating

Now the young Kade Burns was about to see what could have been

Why this Kade waked up on the tunnels and was about what could have been? Because the Heatwave he knew was the mere person who made part of the more terrible times for humans

You’ll see: this Kade Burns is a rescuer, yes, one who comes from an island in the middle of nowhere, he never met the outside world and does not have interest on it, nonetheless, despite he can consider the Heatwave of his universe a friend, he’s still conflicted about Heatwave, because this Kade comes from the universe (that is one of my faves) that I call: Hunters of the Cosmos, an au that works as what if Onyx and Quintus were the only survivors of the war against Unicron, making Predacons the only existing race and by defect, changing the curse of history. In this au, Predacons conquered Earth because Cybertron wasn’t inhabitable anymore, after many years of being only legends, they killed humans on the try and made the place their home. Now, Kade’s shenanigan will be the fact that his universe was brought as that in pain and suffering, when in this one, cybertronians almost came peacefully, it was a shock for Kade how different everything could have been. Also the fact this Kade is more responsible and serious than normal Kade, which for normal Kade is interesting but kind of boring (I LOST THE FUCKING POST THAT TALKED ABOUT THE AU)

With the sound of thunder that fell on a tree, and same with the architect, the sky only seemed to get worse and worse, he didn’t had another but to found refuge as far as possible from the forest, yes, this was strange, but he didn’t have time to think of why he was on another side of the island he got off time ago, not if he wanted to evade the storm

With that, Graham ran with all he could

Despite it sounds normal, it isn’t, this is the Graham from @oldeubagel ‘s shattered glass universe (and theres a lot of TRFB SG universes because Hasbro never gave us one)

The reference post is this one but in context and in short, Graham’s life was mostly sad and miserable, studying hard only to get out of the island as possible evading his shitty family and yes, he became rich really fast (and also drug addicted but those are details), one of the things it would be funny to explore is his relationship with the Kade from Hunters of the Cosmos and the normal Kade, most like a reconciliation that he will never had with his own brother, mostly because these Kades actually care and would never call him a traitor for leaving :v, and also mirrorshiping sound funny (I completely let all the fault on you Bagel, those draws were too good to ignore (and Graham in green looks great))

Despite thinking her end was near, it wasn’t, the only thing that disturbed her was the light and the terrible sound, it felt like if she just was throw out of the lightning itself and this storm was everything but normal, she knew these type of storms, they were usual all the time at home, she just never thought one of the lightning would reach for her, right now, Dani, flying as fast as her tiny wings let her through some drops of water on the storm, needed answers, and a place to stay the night

HAHA, we needed more fantasy Au’s, now, people, Dani, but on fairy :D, she’s not normal and almost watchable, tiny and fast (too much), at home she’s a wind fairy, and also a good racer, maybe the best athlete of all never land

And yes, those storms are normal for her, where she lives is a valley full of magic, magic that sometimes can get angry and out of control, her brother Graham knows more about it, but basically, the lightnings were so full of magic that everything was possible, even sending someone to another universe, or even changing of universe…

The kid was alone, not the first time and he wasn’t surprised, things got out of hands since he discovered he was a prime, but this was definitely the most weirdest thing possible he could ever live know, Griffin Rock was the same, but the kid he had in front was equal to him, the same, like a mirror

Cody knew something wasn’t right, well, nothing was right, he just thought he could help the people trapped in the storm… but now the trapped one was he

Cody Prime by Gelu The Babossa on your service! The kid wanted to be savior boy again but as always, ended up wrong :v, for ref story just write in Gelu’s profile: Cody is Onyx Prime’s reincarnation, and you will find everything in seconds ;)

I know this was mostly au’s from someone else but I don’t have enough au’s or ideas AND these au’s are too damn interesting to not to pay them attention

Just for your knowledge, Chase and Graham are not from the same shattered glass au, SG!Chase is mine and SG!Graham is Bagel’s

And yes, there will be more :)

But for now, bye :D

[bn-stands-for-book-nerd]

I like that there is a bit of unknown about this.

But I think Thistle's mallet is not a staff. Just a mallet he uses a a torch by lighthing it with magic. Reminds me of DD5 and Pathfrinder's spell "Light" that just infuses any object with might for a period so it glows like a lamp. I've bee using it with my mages in various form, going so far as to lighting stones and arrows to get disposable lightsources wherever I wanted.

Thanks for this post, anyways. I work on a mod for DD5 about arkane focus and this will prove usefull :)

Ask me for details if it may prove of interest. It's open source as far as I'm concerned.

do you have any info on magic staffs or just compilation pics of the staffs?

Here's the ones I could remember above,

From what Marcille says here staffs are important for aiming

Her explosion spell scatters instead of hitting a single point when she casts it without Ambrosia

She does manage to use a twig when she loses Ambrosia in the Barometz chapter, and Thistle uses a flute or other music instruments (and a wooden mallet) to cast magic every now and then so I think the quality of the Staff has more to do with how much they can take and the quality of the aim rather than the power of the magic? The twig probably cant quite aim the explosion attack and even the stun seems to have came out not quite aimed properly thru the twig

The twig also burns away after

Other things that seem to be used to cast magic are magic circles/runes, magic tattoos and Grimoires (by Thistle especially) so maybe which one to use depends on the magic youre casting? Wish there was something more explicitly said about those.

[theartofmany]

Artist: Kris "Antropus" Costa Title: DS's Eye “WIP, part of a larger project currently in development. Still needs work, but good enough to be shared. No scans or photos used. Everything you see was hand painted and hand sculpted.” Oh wow, very realistic result...

[demidorks]

Because baby Yoda is a good kid!

[sauroff]

Hi, I really love your art style and I was wondering if you had tips for improving with anatomy ? I am drawing since a very long time but always struggling a lot despite practice

Hello anon! First of all, thank you ♥♥ That means a lot to me. As for the anatomy thing, I feel like you are asking to the wrong person here. BUT, I do have tips that I know that work if you have the discipline that I lack and you practise and study a lot.

1- Is hard to tell what you need without knowing what you already know. So, I'll start with the very very basics. Start the sketch with some guide lines (My personal approach with this is drawing a circle for the head, then a line that marks the movement of the torso, and the lines of shoulders, hips and waist. The add legs and arms, but just as lines. You should probably considering adding a straigh vertical line to help you keep the thing straight and symmetric...I usually forget about that. It should look a bit like this (these are not mine, source here)

After that, start making the volume of the body with geometric forms, specially the torso and hips, which are usually harder. Using squarer forms might help you with lighthing later. I prefer round ones to be honest, but I'm not a good role moldel. These are some of my own examples that I had at hand. Pls keep in mind these are full of mistakes and they are also not trying to be realistic, but stylized (last part is about tension points, you can ignore that).

2- Use references as much as you can. 3- THIS WEBSITE. You can learn all you want about anatomy from models and tutorials, but without practising a lot of figure drawing concentrating more on the movement than the anatomy, your drawings will look stiff. Mine do. And I can tell the difference between those times it which I was exercing these and now. My sketches at least looked a lot more natural and had more volume. I need to get back to these asap because they really, REALLY, help a lot. And what I love about Line of Action is that you can create your customize the exercises to fit your needs.

[lexosaurus]

Tutoring Phantom Ch 1

Characters: Danny, Dash, Kwan Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Friendship Word Count: 4036 Summary: It was funny. A year ago Dash was all but praying for Fenton to shut up, but now he would do anything to hear him speak.

This is my very belated gift for @kinglazrus! It has ended up becoming a twoshot. Here’s chapter one!

Read on: [ao3] [ffn]

---

The revelation shook Amity Park to its core.

Fenton? Really? That Fenton? 

The scrawny one? 

The kid of those nut-job parents?

The one that got picked on?

I heard he’s a loner. Super quiet. 

It was always the quiet ones…

Isn’t he failing school? Maybe that’s why. Maybe it’s because he’s a ghost. Aren’t ghosts less intelligent than humans?

Teresa told me he ditches class all the time. Probably because of his Obsession.

That’s so creepy.

Fenton was...Phantom. Danny was Phantom. It was simply indisputable. Of course some conspiracy theorists were probably screaming about photoshop and CGI, but when Dash saw the transformation happen on television, there was no other way he could make sense of it.

Fenton was Phantom. 

The Guys in White had figured it out, evidently. According to their spokesperson, they had been analyzing Phantom’s ectoplasm samples left from a ghost fight when they found human DNA infused into the ectoplasm. Scans showed that it belonged to Danny Fenton.

When the GiW collected more samples from various ghost fights, all the results were the same. 

Fenton was Phantom.

So they developed a gun. And when Phantom was distracted with a ghost fight they denied planting (but they must have, there was no possible way they could have captured him otherwise), they hit him with it.

And he transformed right there in front of everyone. 

Fenton was Phantom.

And Dash had spent years ruining his life.

Dash collapsed on his couch, his glassy eyes fixated on the still image of Fenton’s horrified face. His hair was wild, his eyes even more so. In the background, he was surrounded by men in white suits, all armed to the teeth with guns. Above him, helicopters soared. 

Fenton was trapped.

There was no way out of it.

Dash had spent the better part of his life bullying the boy who would become his hero, and now he would never be able to apologize.

---

Well, maybe Dash spoke too soon.

By some miracle, Fenton was released from the government’s clutches. 

Eventually. 

Dash didn’t understand the science behind it, but apparently Fenton wasn’t dead. He was...almost dead? But not quite. He was just alive enough to have a pulse, just alive enough to have a heartbeat, just alive enough to be considered human in the eyes of the law.

Dash didn’t want to acknowledge just how relieved he was at this revelation. And if he were a good person, his relief would have come from the part where that meant his classmate was actually alive.

But he wasn’t a good person. What good person spends their downtime picking on the weak kids at school? What good person takes out their aggression on those who don’t fight back?

Dash wasn’t kind, he wasn’t nice, he wasn’t selfless. And that’s why he was relieved.

Because all of his relief came from the fact that if Fenton was alive, then Dash didn’t have to live with the guilt that he’d tormented a dead person. He didn’t have to lie awake at night wondering if he was the one to push Fenton past his breaking point, if he were responsible for Fenton’s death.

Because Fenton wasn’t dead. So what if he was almost dead? So what if he probably did die—if only for a moment—before his body was kickstarted back to life? Fenton wasn’t dead, so Dash didn’t have to think about it.

Dash could get away with it all scot free.

Just like always.

---

Fenton was allowed to come to school.

If Dash were honest, he was surprised by this. He didn’t think the PTA would have caved to the students, who had demanded that Fenton be allowed to return to school. But apparently they relented.

Under certain conditions.

Conditions which the government was more than happy to collaborate with.

It was Fenton’s first day back, and yet he didn’t look all there. He was pale, sickly, his hair too long and voice nonexistent.

But his eyes, those scared Dash the most.

His eyes were dead. 

It was as if someone had taken all the light that was Danny and replaced it with a puppet. There was nothing in there. Nothing inside of his skin. It was...dead.

What did they do to him?

The teachers didn’t try to make him engage with their lessons. They only looked at Danny with pity in their eyes when they would walk by. And Danny wouldn’t acknowledge them because he was just empty. 

Dash wanted to approach him. Talk to him. He had a whole speech prepared, and he knew Kwan did too. But the speech had all but died on his lips when he saw Fenton that morning. He knew—he knew—that nothing was going to get through to him.

Fenton was Phantom, but Fenton wasn’t even there.

And in his place was nothing but bones wrapped in skin held together by metal contraptions on his wrists, ankles, and neck.

Dash shivered. The one on his neck was blinking. It was a warning, Dash realized. A warning that Danny was dangerous. He was inhuman. He was Phantom. 

The students avoided him. Even the ones who had advocated for his safe return. Dash didn’t blame them, either. No one could have predicted that this would be coming back to their class.

Even so, Manson and Foley stuck by him. Dash watched them guide him to each class, carrying his books and trying their best to include him in the conversation. Sometimes he would even lock eyes with them, sometimes his lips would twitch upward and his eyes would brighten as if he were following along with Manson and Foley’s antics. 

Those moments were rare though. Fleeting.

Because in the end, the modicum of emotion would always vaporize from Fenton’s face and they’d be left with the blank, faraway glazed expression that he always seemed to wear now. The duo would be left talking between themselves, and Dash was left looking at them from the sidelines waiting for Fenton to open his mouth and just respond.

Gone were the days of the snarky comments and muttered undertones. Gone were Fenton’s stupid comments that Dash spent years beating him up over. 

It was funny. A year ago Dash was all but praying for Fenton to shut up, but now he would do anything to hear him speak.

No one knew what happened to Fenton during his stay with the government. No one knew what they did to him. Because, as far as Dash knew, Fenton hadn’t said a word since he returned home. Dash wasn’t sure if it was because Danny couldn’t respond, or if he just wouldn’t. 

He didn’t know which one was worse.

---

It had been one month since Fenton returned to school. Anyone with a pair of eyes could see that he wasn’t doing well.

He drifted from class to class like he was in a dream, often not even bothering to put his notebook on his desk as he sat in each class staring at the wall with the same dead expression.

Fenton didn’t take his tests or quizzes with the class anymore. He was in the same math class as Dash and only lasted one exam before Mr. Falluca started proctoring his exams separately. Rumor had it they were trying to get him extra help, but the PTA didn’t want him integrated with Casper High’s most vulnerable students.

Dash thought that was a load of crap, personally. Dash had a few teammates who got extra help from the school’s learning center and they could handle themselves just fine.

Regardless, at this rate, Fenton was going to fail out of school.

Which was why it was of no surprise to Dash when he and Kwan were called down to Mr. Lancer’s office one day with a request to tutor Fenton.

“I know this is a lot of responsibility, and I know you haven’t always seen ways with Mr. Fenton in the past,” Mr. Lancer said, his fingers steepled in front of his chin. “But I can’t ask just anyone to do this. You two are leaders in your class, and you have some high marks to boot. Mr. Lee, you have consistently scored in the top ten percent of the class in your English and history courses, and Mr. Baxter, this past year you’ve done remarkably well in your math course.”

Dash had been regarded as many different things. Athletic, social, hotheaded, cocky, brave—but never smart. He was always known as the high school jock stereotype, he never did well in school.

But Mr. Lancer always knew he was more than just a stereotype, and when he called Dash and his parents after school one day with the recommendation that Dash get tested for ADD, suddenly everything clicked. 

It was amazing how a small pill each morning could turn Dash from a C student to a rising A student in the matter of a few months.

“And because I know how much I’m asking of you two, I have spoken to your teachers and they are willing to give you extra credit on your final exams as compensation.”

Dash cleared his throat. “Mr, Lancer,” he started, his voice scratchy. “With all due respect, why have us tutor him? Why not have the teachers do it?”

“I have been working with Mr. Fenton, and I’ll continue to through the school year. But he needs that peer to peer connection, he needs the support of those around him. I’m sure you’ve noticed the shift in your class, the growing uneasiness of those around you?”

Dash nodded. He would have had to have been blind to not see how everyone seemed to skirt around Fenton in the hallways, how nobody except Manson and Foley said so much as a “hello” to him.

“I understand,” said Dash. 

“The...ghost inhibitor thing isn’t helping, either,” Kwan added. “I’ve never seen that kind of technology used on any ghost. And you have to admit, Danny’s been acting really strange lately. Like he’s not even here. Mr. Lancer, if you don’t mind me asking, is it...are they…?”

The unsaid question hung in the air, and Mr. Lancer’s eyes darkened. “There’s only so much I’m allowed to say on this matter. But I would say your suspicions about the devices are likely to be true. Although, it’s hard for me to pinpoint exactly how much they’re affecting Mr. Fenton. He’s been through a lot.”

Dash felt lightheaded. So the rumors about the devices were true. At least, somewhat true.

If there was one thing both Fenton and Phantom were, it was resilient. Sure, the Guys in White could knock him down, but to change him this much? To give him so much baggage he couldn’t even speak?

It screamed foul play.

“That’s terrible,” Kwan said. “It’s sick knowing that they’d do that to him.”

“Indeed. Which is why I’m asking you both to step up as leaders of your class and help your fellow peer through this difficult time. If we can help Mr. Fenton become more integrated with his classmates, we may have a case to allow him to remove the inhibitors and get him real help.”

Dash could feel Kwan’s eyes on him, and he knew why. Dash and Fenton had history, and that made this complicated. There was so much unfinished business between the two. 

Was Dash ready to take this step? Was he really ready to be the selfless, altruistic hero like Phantom instead of the bully he had always been?

“Again, I know the school is asking so much of you both, and I am willing to personally help if need be. If, for whatever reason, you feel as though you can’t do it, there will be no judgement from me or any of your other teachers. This is entirely up to you.”

If Dash said no, Kwan would follow. If Dash wasn’t ready, Kwan wouldn’t force him into that position. It was exactly why Dash and Kwan were such good friends: Dash got his way, and he always knew Kwan would have his back.

But that wasn’t healthy. And it didn’t lead to good outcomes in the long term.

Now was the time for Dash to take that step. 

He needed to be the leader instead of the coward he always was.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll do it.”

---

If Fenton was confused as to why his two former childhood bullies were now his after school homework buddies all of the sudden, he didn’t say it.

In fact, he didn’t say anything at all.

But Dash knew this would happen going into it. He knew it would be difficult to tell if Fenton’s head was in the clouds or if he was truly in the present. And he knew Fenton would just go along with whatever they threw at him anyway.

Because he was Fenton. He could never let Dash have the last metaphorical word, even if he was being suppressed by the physical manifestation of the United States government on his wrist, ankles, and neck.

He was annoying like that.

“See, this is what goes into the equation. F of x has its own definition, and g of x has its own definition. So in this problem we’re just replacing f of x and g of x with what’s written here. You see?” Dash asked, circling the functions and drawing arrows with his multicolored pens.

Fenton just stared down at his paper.

“Here, we can do it together,” Dash said. He took Fenton’s paper and wrote out the equation, going through the problem step by step with his neatest handwriting. Following Kwan’s lead from earlier, he talked through every minute detail about the equation, pausing in between lines to allow the information to sink in, and to give Fenton the opportunity to interrupt if he was lost.

Even though it was obvious that Fenton wasn’t going to interrupt.

And he didn’t. He sat there, staring dully at the paper like he was watching cement dry. And at the end, once Dash put his pencil down, Fenton just ran his finger across the problem, his brow furrowed like he couldn’t figure out how Dash’s writing had ended up on his paper.

And maybe he truly couldn’t figure it out. Maybe he didn’t understand what was happening. Maybe he had no idea that Dash was tutoring him.

Dash wasn’t a mind reader. He didn’t know what was going on in Fenton’s head.

“That makes sense, Dash!” Kwan supplied from across them, his voice bright and cheery. 

Even though they were technically just tutoring Fenton, framing the group as a small, informal study group seemed more appropriate in Dash’s eyes. 

“I think I understand this a little better now. What do you think, Danny?”

Fenton blinked slowly, his head raising to face Kwan.

“Do you think you get the first problem?” Dash asked.

Fenton’s gaze flickered over to Dash, and the confused expression on his face deepened. He cocked his head slightly, as if he was just seeing Dash for the first time.

A beat of silence stretched around the table, and Dash held his breath, waiting for something to happen. But after a moment too long, Fenton just turned his attention back to the paper, staring at it motionless.

Dash couldn’t help but send a quick ‘help’ glance over at Kwan. He had never tutored anyone in his life, much less a teen who was seemingly incapable of responding. 

Maybe...maybe this was a mistake. Maybe he was wrong to think he could do this.

But fortunately, before he could get too deep in his own insecurities, Kwan came to the rescue. “Dash, can we do one more together before trying a problem on our own? Number two looks a little different than number one, and I don’t really understand how to set up the equation!”

Dash sent a mental thank you Kwan’s way before plucking a purple pen off the table. “Sure!” He turned to Danny’s paper. “Okay, this is f of x. Looking at the equation, we know that it goes here. And this—” He swapped to a green pen “—is g of x. Where do you think this one goes?”

He sat patiently, as if he were waiting for Fenton to respond.

But Dash knew that he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. He was wasting his time with this pause, even if he was only doing it to be polite.

Truth be told, he didn’t even think Fenton was listening to him. Fenton probably was incapable of that. Hell, he probably didn’t even remember where he was or how he got here.

But, just as Dash was about to go ahead and answer his own question for Fenton, the small teen shifted beside him. Dash’s eyes snapped onto Fenton, watching as the boy lifted his arm off his lap and pointed to the paper.

Dash’s eyes trailed down to the worksheet, down to Fenton’s hand, and froze. 

Fenton was pointing to the correct part of the equation.

He had been listening to Dash. He, somehow, was able to understand Dash.

Dash looked over to Kwan, who too was resembling a fish with his open mouth stare at the duo. His eyes met Dash’s, and a smile overtook his expression. He shot Dash a thumbs up, a clear encouragement to continue on.

“Yeah,” Dash breathed, turning his attention back to Fenton. “Yeah, that’s it.”

Fenton’s hand dropped back to his lap.

“Good, now let’s solve this together.”

---

As the days turned to weeks, slowly tutoring Fenton got a little easier. Though it was still impossible for Dash and Kwan to know just how much Fenton was absorbing with their sessions, they were starting to be able to decipher small behavioral quirks in Fenton’s body language to help guide them through the haze.

An eyebrow twitch here, a tiny jerk of his pupils there. His movements were small, but telling. And when he was truly spaced out, when their questions would yield not even the faintest twitch from him, a gentle tap on his arm seemed to pull him back to reality.

Tutoring Fenton could be difficult—some days it felt like nothing they said was committing to his fleeting memory—but it wasn’t impossible. Because under that dense fog clouding his mind was still the annoying, snarky teen they had grown up with.

And some days, they could still see glimpses of that snarky teen in him.

“Yeah so the coach is having us an extra gym routine tomorrow,” Dash said, closing his notebook and leaning back in his chair. “So I’ll probably be a half hour late picking you up. Sound good?”

Fenton didn’t respond.

Not that Dash was expecting him to.

“I hear we’re gonna have a wall-sit contest,” Kwan said. “Dale crushed us all last time, but I’ll have my revenge this time around!”

Fenton’s eyes flickered up to Dash. He tapped his thigh, the corner of his lips twitching up.

“What?”

Fenton paused, seemingly mulling something over, before loosely pointing to Dash’s legs with a subtle smirk.

Dash sat up, realization dawning on him. “Are you…are you calling my legs weak?”

Judging by the ghost of an impish grin on Fenton’s features, Dash was right.

“Really? You too?”

Fenton grinned and tapped his legs again.

“Oh, like you’re one to talk!” Dash crossed his arms. “I could kick your scrawny ass to next year if I wanted to!”

Fenton raised his brows ever so slightly.

“What, you think just because you’re Phantom that means you’re stronger than me?” Dash jammed his thumb to his chest. “Don’t forget who your gym buddy was Freshman year! Once those inhibitors come off, it’s you and me at the gym! I’d like to see you try to keep up with me, Fenton!”

Dash heard a snort from the other side of the table. His head whipped around to see Kwan with his hands cupping his mouth.

“What are you laughing at?”

With that, Kwan bursted out laughing and leaned back in his chair. “Dude!” He exclaimed, seemingly catching a breath. “You really think you can bench more than Phantom? Oh my god—I can’t breathe—that’s the funniest fucking thing!”

“Hey, have my back here!” Dash snapped. He glanced over to Danny, whose face had broken out into a full grin. “Yeah, laugh it up why don’t you!”

Danny just tapped his legs as a response.

Kwan roared in laughter and all but fell off of his chair.

“Oh, shut up!”

---

“We want in,” a voice said from above him.

Dash stuffed his notebook into his backpack, not even bothering to glance up at the speaker. “What are you talking about?”

“We know you’ve been doing homework with Danny after school, and we want to join.”

Dash sighed and threw his bag over his shoulder. He stood, facing Manson in all her glory. Though her outfit didn’t scream quite as goth as it had when they were Freshmen, she still had the same self-righteous stance that had always irritated Dash.

“Okay?” Dash responded. “And who is ‘we’?”

“Tucker and I. You know, Danny’s best friends? Have been since elementary school? The two people who have actually been there for him this whole time? Ring a bell?”

Dash rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I’m leaving. Study with him on your own time.”

He turned to walk away, but she grabbed his arm, pulling him back. “Wait. Sorry, just—” She paused, dropping her arm back to her side, and Dash watched as a myriad of emotions flickered through her expression. Her gaze dropped to the floor, and cracks of insecurity seeped through her features. “Sorry. Let me start over.”

He straightened back up. “I’m listening.”

She took a deep breath. When she started, her voice was quiet but steady. “I get why Lancer asked you and Kwan to work with him. I do, I get it. But Tucker and I are his best friends. And you know how he is right now. Those devices are...they’re messing with his head. I know they are.” Her gaze flickered up at Dash, and she looked scared. “It hurts seeing him like this, you know?”

“Yeah, I know,” Dash said. “But I don’t see what this has to do with our study sessions.”

“He just seems happier now since he started. He seems better.”

Dash blinked. Whatever he was expecting her to say, that definitely wasn’t it.

Manson hugged herself, her shoulders hunching. She looked...small. Fragile. As if the slightest breeze would topple her over. 

This wasn’t like her.

“Whatever you guys have been doing, it’s working. He’s getting better. I don’t know, he just seems more present now. And...it hurts that I haven’t been there during this. You know, it’s been months since I’ve heard his voice. Not since before he got captured, since before those evil devices were forced on him. I know they’re preparing for a court case to get them removed, and I know there’s a chance he’ll get better again, but I just…”

“You miss him,” Dash said, surprising himself. 

“Yeah. I do.”

Dash sighed. “I don’t know how I can help with this.”

“Just give us a chance? Please. Just let us tag along, even if it’s only for a few days a week. We won’t interfere with the tutoring, we just want to be there.”

He stared at her silently, studying her face under her bangs. 

The past year had been hard on her, that much was obvious. And Dash, as unobservant and bullheaded as he was, could see the dark circles under her eyes, her blotchy skin, her chapped lips.

The way she stood there before him, a person who she would never have been caught dead being friendly with, defeated and all but begging for help.

Dash wasn’t selfless. He wasn’t altruistic.

He was just a dumb jock.

But in that moment, as he scrutinized the way her hands fidgeted and her lower lip wobbled, he couldn’t help but feel her sadness, her regret.

It was painful to watch.

“Okay.” He turned away. “We meet at Kwan’s at four. I’ll see you both there.”

---

chapter two> 

[smorgasbordofobsessions]

liveblog: yugioh! pyramid of light

working my way chronologically through the movies! and by chronologically i mean by release date - god only knows these movies have nothing to do with the show itself

i miss pharaoh atem :(

yo this video is CRISP and CLEAR

"imponderable conundrum"

"the lost tomb of anubis" well nothing good can come of that

hm why is there a sarcophagus in chains what does that mean hm so mysterious i'm sure it doesn't mean anything bad

that was a pretty dramatic opening

wow i really missed atem's voice :')

hm didn't know that obelisk could absorb the other two gods to get infinite power

oh wait - din't that happen in the anime though

i am in such AWE at how clear this video is like where is the graniness? the blur? shit's crisper than a potato chip out the bag

"no more white wine spritzers before bedtime for me"

oooohhh what is this rock music for kaiba;s -

IT'S NOT HALF BAD????????????????????

again love the fact that kaiba has a fucking jet in the shape of a blue eyes white dragon like he's a fucking geek

"i guess i could dust off my deck"

"this place is an outdated joke. but then, so are you, so i suppose it fits" "now, now, kaiba, let's not get nasty - not just yet anyhow."

toon world!!!!!!

"the mystical dagger of fate"

so yugi's gonna call tea but can't call kaiba to warn him of danger?

atem <3

"all that matters is that we face the future together"

kaiba and yugi are dueling and kaiba literally trapped yugi in a kaibacorp building to duel

'this isn't his room" yugi how would you knooooowwww

"kaiba, once again, your ridiculously over-inflated ego blinds you to the truth!"

atem honestly sounds EXASPERATED!

dark magician girl <3

dark magician <3

the sorcerer of dark magic wow

what???? kaiba's shining dragon allows him to CHOOSE what can affect him like ????? talk about an OP card hoenstly

yugi literally collapsed and kaiba tells him it's his turn

"this thing's putting out energy waves that's mking my pacemaker go haywaire"

i am like how the pyramid of light is a negative thing - a cute little twist on lighth typically being a positive force

i love my friends but i would never sacrifce my soul for them fuck that

so wow anubis has been possessing kaiba what a shocker

but um.. anubis is.. kind of attractive in a vampire wy? like this hair reminds me of castelvania

ooh sphinxes

celtic guardian <3

"i'm afraid that for you, doomsday is today"

pharaoh has two magic cards in his hand, exchange and magical wave diffusion

thisnew sphinx has 35,000 ATK

i played mahjong online through the rest of the movie but of course anubis got defeated

kaiba gave atem his new shin blue eyes which has a self-destruct special effect anfd tht worked

what i'm more curious about is the SOUNDTRACK available for this movie apparently? and the snippets of the songs sound .. not really good but also not the wort music i've ever heard

they sound a bit under-produced, or whatever the technical term might be

might have ot look for that

but, not the best movie in the world but i would say better than the extended episode but also something that can be missed

[sophi-s]

Silent Vigil

By: sophi-s

Fandom: Darksiders video games

Words: 7,102

Characters: Abaddon, Astarte,

Warnings: Blood and gore, Graphic descriptions of violence, poisoning

Summary:

Life of a soldier in war is often dangerous. Every day may be the last. Even for the most skilled warriors. When a simple mission goes awry, Astarte realises how vulnerable her young and foolish heart truly made her.

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

Another day of the never-ending war was slowly coming to an end in a cold, distant world, far away from Heaven's borders. In a snowstorm that came alongside dusk one could barely make out the well hidden shapes of tents in a makeshift camp the wandering squadron of angels had set up quite some time ago. The thick silence was only disturbed by wailing of the wind that brought to mind a sorrowful cry of a lone wolf. Heavy patches of snow were resting on top of the tents, hiding the amber glass underneath a thick white blanket.

Out of one of the smaller ones, a hooded figure emerges, wrapped up in a heavy winter coat with fur sewn into the edges. Their wings were folded back and tucked underneath the warm fabric to shield them from the ceaseless barrage of cold snowflakes and the ungodly cold. Wading knee-deep in snow, they swiftly cross the entirety of the camp like a spectre and step into the largest tent in the middle of it. Once inside, the hood is pulled back to reveal a head of dense platinum blonde hair falling around a smooth face of a female with brilliant white eyes flashing with determination of a warrior she is. Even when hidden from the elements and chilling winds, her breath was turning into white puffs slowly dissipating once they emerged from her parted lips.

Astarte brushes off the snow that still somehow managed to accumulate on her shoulders during her short walk and looks at another angel standing hunched above a map on a tabletop. But even bent over and not wearing his battle armor, he was of quite imposing height and stature. She smiles to herself sadly when he doesn't even notice her arrival and keeps grumbling something under his breath, still focused on the map. Unsurprisingly, he was still busying himself with strategizing. Astarte didn't know how long he'd been here without rest but she could bet her right hand he hadn't left ever since he dismissed her and the rest of his soldiers a couple of hours before. Part of her was actually glad that he is the one in charge and not she. Being a leader is a difficult and often tiresome task. Still, it doesn't mean she shouldn't support her general in his efforts. She's his lieutenant after all. That's her duty. And even if it wasn't, she would do so nonetheless as even her heart demanded her to be with him when he needs her. And in this moment he looked like he could use assistance.

"My Lord."

She greeted him, earning a glance of his piercing eyes, as cold as steel and as blue as the clear winter sky - hidden above their heads by thick, grey clouds - from underneath a crisp white fringe falling over his face. But the moment he realised it was her, the chill in his gaze faded and made place for warmth as a weary smile pulled at his mouth.

"No one is here, Astarte. There's no need for formality."

He replied and let his eyes linger on her for a couple more seconds before lowering them to the map between his hands resting on the table. Coming around it, Astarte stood beside him and looked at the plans under his careful scrutiny. They hadn't changed much from when she'd seen them last as he asked her to show what she'd learned and explain them to others. And this in itself was mildly concerning.

"Is there some kind of a problem, Abaddon?"

The archangel in question sighed and scratched the back of his neck, not taking his eyes off the map. After about a century under his command, Astarte knew Abaddon well enough to recognise apprehension in his mannerisms. He doesn't do that very often but when he does, usually a good reason exists. Leaning against the table as well, Astarte scans the entirety of the map to try and find the thing that made her commander and possibly future partner so uneasy. Unsuccessfully. There didn't seem to be a thing that should cause him distress. It was common knowledge in the White City that Abaddon was rather… paranoid to put it lightly. And in moments like this, it shows. Astarte didn't mind that but maybe now he's nervous just for the heck of it again.

"Not at all. And that's what doesn't seem right."

Astarte raised her eyebrow and looked up at him in confusion as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully before pointing at the map marked with small scribbled out notes in certain places with his whole hand.

"Look at it. There's nothing wrong with it! We've been after this artifact for months now and finally we - by a pure coincidence - find out about a group of demons which stumbled upon its location and is about to attempt retrieval? It's going way too smoothly for my taste. It can't be this easy.."

With a hum of affirmation, Astarte glanced down at the plan of the ruins, where the powerful demonic blade was supposedly hidden, again. The structure sat below the level of the terrain, two entrances and no other way out. A perfect place to ambush someone going in or out. About five days ago, a scouting party managed to capture a demon which tried to save its skin by revealing the location of the enchanted sword and the plan of its brethren who wished to get to it before Heaven does. The demon still perished but the information stayed. And at first it couldn't make Abaddon happier. Taking her and a group of thirty angels, the General of Heaven set out to intercept the demons and take over the artifact to make sure they don't use it against the White City. Now however, he seemed rather… frustrated, judging by the way he was drumming his fingers against the table. By now, they liquidated about half a dozen scouts and each provided at least some scraps of information they could put together to make a more or less clear image of their future task. For once, Astarte began to understand his concerns. There must be a catch. The question is "where?".

"You suspect some kind of a trick but if the artifact is really there, it's unacceptable to just leave it…"

"Exactly!"

Abaddon answered with a note of annoyance in his voice, still staring at the plan as though it had slighted him somehow. In a warrior's life nothing is ever easy. Astarte understood his doubts. Sometimes no words were needed to be spoken between them to reach this understanding. And that's why they were such a good team. All this really was going way too easily and it wasn't a surprise that he was so tense that the air around him seemed to turn heavy. She frowned, unhappy that this was one of those rare moments when she really wanted to help Abaddon but didn't know how. She despised this feeling. Unsure what else she could do, Astarte laid her hand on top of his, to at least try and offer him some semblance of peace of mind he needed.

"Standing here and glaring at the map won't make any difference. Try to rest."

With his eyebrows still furrowed in a worried frown, Abaddon shifted his hand under hers and curled his fingers around it.

"I am not sure if I can."

He murmured with resignation, failing to meet her eye. Now Astarte had no doubts as to how tired he really was. Abaddon rarely ever sounds like that. But true enough, if this unease stays with him, he might not be able to rest properly. That was just him. Utterly devoted to Heaven's cause, almost always putting duty on the first place. But right behind it, and often shifting places with it, was her. All it takes is the right word or the right touch. Letting go of his hand, Astarte rested her palm on his right cheek and leaned in to lightly brush her lips against his temple. His scowl immediately softened, his bushy eyebrows wandered slightly up his tattooed forehead and a corner of his mouth quirked upwards in a smile. Works almost every time..

Snapping his attention away from the blasted map, the archangel turned to Astarte with a sigh. He does that way too often when he feels uncertain. Still, this heaviness seemed to leave the atmosphere, a sign that she managed to fulfill the purpose she came here with, when she reached out to him and ghosted her fingertips against his cheek, simultaneously making him lean into her palm fondly. Moments later, Abaddon took her hand, lifted it to his mouth and pressed his warm lips to her knuckles red from the cold surrounding them. Looking at her with half-lidded, cerulean eyes, he met her gaze with that lively twinkle to them she knew so well from every time they had a moment together. She recognised that look. In spite of herself, Astarte smiled. Usually, she didn't really mind the open signs of affection when they were alone but they were in the middle of a frozen desert and on a very important mission.

"Abaddon, this really isn't the right time."

Astarte murmured as she put a hand on his mouth to stop him from proceeding when he began to inch closer to her, earning a slightly annoyed scowl from her Commander. She is his second-in-command and so her duty is to make sure he doesn't forget himself. But the thing is, Abaddon is one of the most stubborn creatures she'd known in all of Creation. The lengths he would go to get what he wants…

"May I remind you that you started it?"

He teased with a smirk clearly audible in the tone of his voice, making Astarte roll her eyes. She did, true, but they should stay focused on their task. There will be time for this once they accomplish what they came to this frozen hellhole for in the first place. Though, on the other hand… Ah, what's the point anyway? Astarte decided she will let him have this one if it helps him find peace tonight. I will have to relearn to stand up to him again… She thought as she lowered her hand right into his waiting palm.

The following kiss didn't surprise Astarte but still made her delightfully lightheaded. As it always does. Every next contact wasn't as exciting as the first one but still was sending the world around her spinning. Their romance was a badly kept secret, almost everyone in the White City knows by now, but it didn't feel any less thrilling than if they were actually secretly doing something forbidden. It wasn't uncommon for a general to be in relationship with his or her lieutenant.

"You too need your rest, Astarte. I'll need you to stay sharp tomorrow."

He breathed once he gave her her lips back far too soon and sadly Astarte knew he was right. Even if no deceit awaits them in those ruins, they all have to be on high alert. There's no joking around with demons. One of the first lessons Abaddon had taught her, back when she was still an overconfident and daring private who thought she could best anyone, him included.

"Very well. Goodnight to you, Abaddon."

"And to you, my love."

He offered as she pulled her hood up and walked out into the snowstorm to find a way back to her own tent, even though the cold made a small and quiet thought that "it would be much warmer if they stayed together and he surely wouldn't mind it" crawl its way into her head. There's no time for distractions. A difficult task awaits them tomorrow and they have to stay vigilant no matter what. The time will come after they succeed. Failure is out of question.

-

The Hellguard marched out of the camp before the first morning light. Time is of the essence and so they decided to waste none of it. Using the cover of the winter forest and the falling snowflakes, the angels quickly moved on foot not to draw the attention of demons which may be hiding somewhere around. Besides, flying was nigh impossible with the harsh, arctic wind tugging at them from every direction. Abaddon ordered to split the group to three, leaving one under the lead of Astarte, while he took the other two along.

It took an hour or so to arrive at the designated place. Indeed, the old ruins of a demonic outpost were half-concealed by nearby hills, the wilderness and by any plant life that has long crept inside. Built in a low spot, the structure was dark and ominous, radiating with sinister aura that could give creeps to even the bravest warriors. A dark presence lingered in the air, making this place seem even more grim and threatening. Astarte sneered slightly, a little at the freezing air seeping through her clothes and armor into her very bones, and a little at the discouraging atmosphere of this wretched place. The sooner they get this done with, the better.

Angels spread out and took their places to simultaneously have a good view of the ruins and good hiding spots from which one group could see the other two. With a silent sigh, Astarte frowned down at the ruins below her, constantly on alert for any movement. One minute passed. Two.. Five. Twenty. Nothing. Not a single soul. If the demons are truly inside then they are taking their sweet time. Just grand... She thought, already losing feeling in her toes and fingers. Wind kept wailing, the only sound that could be heard in this God-forsaken place.

Glancing about, Astarte furrowed her eyebrows. Something didn't feel right. There were no tracks of demonic clawed feet in over three mile radius, though it could be easily explained by demons using the Fallen which are capable of flight. But it didn't make her feel easier. No sounds, no signs of life. No wonder, what sane creature aside from a frost dragon would willingly make its home in this frozen landscape? The lack of any activity whatsoever also wasn't that strange when she thought about it. The wretched cowards can be hiding inside and waiting for the moody weather to calm down.

Still, a strange, unpleasant feeling was starting to rise in Astarte's gut. As though someone was… watching her. Just to double check, she scanned her surroundings in search of the source of this sensation. Nothing. Maybe paranoia is contagious? She chuckled inwardly. Her eyes fell onto Abaddon on the other side of the outpost, barely visible over the snow alongside his group. He wasn't looking at her, fully focused on his task. Of course. Why would he look at her now? This was something she shouldn't do either. Not when she should be on the lookout for their quarry.

However, just when Astarte was about to look back down, something in the distance caught her eye. For a brief second, she was absolutely certain she'd seen something that looked a lot like a tail swinging from a tree a couple of feet behind the other squad. A century or so ago, she would've ignored it, dismissed as her imagination. But it seems that paranoia really is contagious. And Abaddon taught her better than that. Astarte squinted at the object of her interest to try and make out more details. And her heart dropped to her heels.

Attached to what turned out to have been an actual tail, was a body of a slender demon coated in white fur, also dressed in white. To blend into the surroundings. Her experience told her. To her concern, once she noticed the first one, she suddenly started to spot more of them. All around. Stalking towards the unsuspecting angels focused on watching the ruins and something was telling her that the same was happening behind her own back. And that's when she felt a spike of dread jolt down her throat. The demon she initially spotted in the tree was holding something that looked a bit like a crossbow. And aiming at Abaddon's head from behind.

A realisation hit her that instead of the attackers, the Hellguard quickly turned into the attacked. Abaddon was right. This was trap! No clue how, but he knew. He has no idea, he won't notice the demon in time! She had to warn him somehow! To Hell with cover. Without a second thought, Astarte sprung up to her feet from where she was lying on her stomach half buried under the snow, sending a cloud of whiteness flying as she flared her rune-inscribed wings and yelled as loudly as her throat allowed her to before her vocal cords gave up.

"AMBUSH!!! "

In this very moment something heavy impacted with her back with a vicious roar, almost sending her toppling over the ledge. Were it not for her strength and the fact that she successfully avoided being surprised, Astarte stood her ground supporting herself with her spear to spare herself a painful fall just as her companions jumped out of their hiding spots to answer the demons with a counterattack. One of the younger angels under her command struck and killed the demon that pounced at her, one of the camouflaged white fiends she saw as she turned around, as bolts began to whizz through the air and screams of shocked angels intertwined with frustrated screeches of the Hellspawn.

Thanks to her quick reaction, the Hellguard swiftly entered defensive formations to face the ambushers. With a battle cry upon her lips, Astarte impaled one demon while her comrades were taking down others, trying to dodge or deflect the bolts. Why are they using crossbows? She wondered in spite of herself. Unfortunately, it wasn't the best time to ponder over their questionable choice of weapons. The dying demon on the end of her spear in its last act pulled itself further down the blade and almost onto the hilt, and desperately swung with its talons, tearing through her left arm before she could push it off.

With a pained sneer, Astarte tossed the now dead demon back at its brethren as she ordered her group to shift to offensive. The blood began to stain the spotless white snow in deep scarlet as more demons and, unfortunately, angels fell. But… something was unusual here. A second passed, two, three… and Abaddon was nowhere to be seen. Astarte doesn't get wounded often but when she does, it takes barely a beat for her commander to pretty much materialize out of thin air somewhere nearby to protect her, even if it is but a minor injury like this one. This time something was different. He most likely has problems of his own. She figured and led the charge against the fiendish warriors.

Oddly enough, the moment their ambush didn't work out, demons started to retreat as there was nothing more for them to achieve aside from losing more of their stealthy, lightly armored soldiers. And so, they fled just as quietly as they appeared, vanishing between the trees and in the snow.

Once the battle had ended, Astarte looked over the remaining angels. Previously she had ten. Now only five of them were unharmed while two more carried more or less serious wounds from blades and claws, often having crossbow bolts stuck in their armor. The other three… Astarte turned her gaze down and removed her helmet as her uninjured brethren did the same to pay respect to the fallen. She was well used to death but still. They were her brothers at arms. Angels she trusted and respected.  After a moment, Astarte placed her headpiece back where it belonged and gripping her bleeding arm, she gave orders to her squad.

"Regroup. We need to evaluate the losses."

Taking a short flight, Astarte and the soldiers under her temporary command rejoined others. The Hellguard were still startled and disoriented, looking about in search of more attackers. Fortunately, to no avail. Astarte too was looking for something. Or rather someone when she couldn't see him anywhere at first. But barely seconds later she saw him. Sitting on the ground against a rock with two unnerved soldiers beside him, breathing heavily and unevenly, ashen face… He was keeping his hand over his chest. And sticking out from between his thumb and forefinger was.. Her eyes widened with fear…

A crossbow bolt.

Everything around Astarte halted as claws of horror, even colder than the snow and ice around her, got a hold of her heart which started to quiver in her chest. The demon still did manage to get Abaddon. Her warning came too late. And the bolt seemed to have been constructed in a way that made it very durable. The sharp projectile punched through Abaddon's breastplate without greater problems and now was stuck in his body.

"Abaddon!"

When she could move, she immediately rushed over to him, still unable to believe what had happened, and oblivious to her own injury fell to her knees beside him. Despite the pain that was apparently visible in his grimace, Abaddon turned his blue eyes at her with a frantic gleam in them.

"It… was a trap. I- I knew it! Astarte…"

He was interrupted by a harsh cough which caused blood to trickle out of the corner of his mouth. Talking clearly wasn't coming easily to him. Why would it, when he had a sharp bolt buried into his chest? Any incoming words were halted by Astarte putting her hand over his bloodied lips.

"Save your breath, my Lord."

She said, trying to keep her head cool despite the mounting panic in her throat, and took her eyes off his face to examine the wound. With his armor still on it was hard to determine the full extent of the damage but with how the bolt was positioned, Astarte could only imagine it may have punctured his left lung or damaged some vital blood vessels and she couldn't even extract it without risking causing further damage. Even as small as the wound was, it was dangerously near his heart that was surely pounding in his chest like crazy. The fact that there was barely any blood aside from that spilling steadily past his lips was hardly comforting. It could mean there's a much more severe internal bleeding. Hopefully not. Whether he likes it or not - which he most likely doesn't with how stubborn he is - Abaddon needed the help of a healer and needed it immediately.

"We have to move. There might be more of them nearby."

The Hellguard listened to Astarte without a moment of hesitation. She was the second in line to the position of a leader and Abaddon didn't seem like he was going to give orders any time soon. Astarte carefully pulled him up to his feet and hauled his arm over her own shoulders while other angels were gathering up those severely wounded and deceased in preparation to leave. As she was expecting, Abaddon grumbled in protest.

"I… can walk…"

"It doesn't mean you should."

With that, Astarte cut him off and it looked like he was not in the mood to argue with her. Neither did he have strength for it. The Hellguard moved out and left the cursed ruins behind. There was no doubt in Astarte's mind that there was no artifact here. This was just a bluff. A successful one unfortunately..

Even though there was hardly an hour of steady march between the ruins and their camp, for Astarte it felt like an eternity. With each laboured breath next to her ear and the weight of the injured archangel leaning against her shoulder slowly increasing, her agitation grew. But true enough, Abaddon did mostly walk on his own. At first. Not even fifteen minutes later, he was starting to get more sluggish and a faint tint of unhealthy green shaded his otherwise colorless face that should be tanned in warm tones. Still, he kept going. Until about half an hour later he stumbled, even though he was still supported by Astarte.

"I don't… I can't feel… my wings…"

He mumbled more to himself than anyone else, successfully getting his lieutenant's attention. True to his word, his wings were limply dragging behind him, motionless. And once she noticed that the light in his eyes had already faded and he's moments from slipping into unconsciousness, the panic returned. Her heart was hammering against her ribcage in despair. He was dying. She cannot lose him. Not him. Everyone but him.

"No… no, Abaddon! Don't fall asleep!"

She called desperately, making all of the angels to look back at them both with non hidden fright. Two Storm Heralds even rushed over to help as she held her commander who was very quickly losing his grip on life. With how heavy he was, Astarte had no other choice than to lower him to the ground. And she could feel how unnaturally warm under her hands his skin was. The camp is so close… He can't give up now! He can't… Just a little longer..

Don't close your eyes… 

But despite her silent plea, her efforts to keep his head up and pull him back up… he did. His eyelids slipped closed, he ferociously fought to keep them opened but in vain. Even though Astarte was beginning to feel the shaking of her hands, she called to others.

"Help me get him up! We need to act quickly!"

The rest of the path to the campsite was a haze. Astarte remembered it like through a mist that clouded her senses and she wasn't even sure how and when she found herself in her own tent with Maral, an angel who was like a little sister to her, tending to the claw marks on her shoulder. Luckily, Maral herself wasn't injured in any way and she was the one to inform Astarte of the whole situation. Eight dead and ten injured in total. No artifact in sight. Not a very cheering perspective.. However, Astarte was only half paying attention to what Maral was saying. Her thoughts were elsewhere. In Abaddon's personal tent where he was brought to be taken care of about an hour ago. She was tapping her foot impatiently as Maral was getting her arm disinfected and wrapped up in bandages since there were only three healers in camp and two of them were injured too while the third one tended to the General.

"There. It should be mostly-... Hey! Where are you going?"

Astarte didn't really hear the call. After Maral was done with her wounds, she immediately stood up and walked out, heading to her General's tent, not caring about the cold anymore. Only one thought accompanied her on the way to her destination. Please, be alive... And please, stay that way... In the entrance she bumped into the aforementioned healer.

"Suriel. How is he?"

Judging by the grim expression Suriel bore, Astarte could tell she wasn't going to like what he was about to say. Of all angels, Astarte is rarely frightened. But this was one of those rare moments and she was glad she had her armor removed, because without a doubt it would clatter loudly, considering how much she was shaking. Don't tell me it's what I think it is.. She begged. Not a single part of her being was prepared to accept the fact that her beloved could be…

"He lives."

Not even the mightiest creature in the Universe could've stopped the loud exhale of relief that left Astarte the moment the news was revealed to her. However, it turned out she was too quick to rejoice.

"But he isn't well. The bolt.. although it did get to his lung that's not the main concern."

True enough, breathing isn't vital for angels to survive, though such an injury is rather inconvenient and if not healed properly can cause trouble in the future. But hearing that the punctured lung isn't the main concern immediately sent Astarte's heart back into frenzy before it could fully calm its pace.

"It was poisoned."

"Poisoned..?"

She echoed, already feeling increasingly dizzy from all this. Blessed Creator, please, let this chaos finally end... Of course the demons would poison their weapons! The fact why they were using crossbows became much clearer now. They lured the Hellguard out to try and take down its leaders. Bastards. Honestly, Astarte could consider herself lucky that she wasn't hit with one of the poisoned projectiles because without a shadow of a doubt she was one of the main targets as well.

"One of the killed demons had a vial of antidote in a knapsack but… the venom spread around his system very quickly. It will help. But that's all I could do. Lord Abaddon will have to battle the poison on his own until someone more experienced arrives."

It wasn't surprising that someone has already gone to the White City to call for help and deliver a report from the unsuccessful operation. Astarte could only hope either Abaddon will pull through or someone will get here to help him on time.

"Can I… see him?"

Suriel nodded. Astarte waited no longer and hesitantly peered inside of the tent. The sight that greeted her made her feel like her heart fell to pieces. No one had to say it out loud for her to realise that she wasn't ready for what awaited her. On a cot under coverlets in the far end of the tent, was him. Abaddon. Her beloved.. And he looked like a corpse. Still, unmoving, pallid skin… his eyelids and lips were in a blueish-purple hue. A blood-soaked bandage was wrapped around his chest and a wet piece of folded cloth rested on his forehead. Droplets of sweat were rolling down his face, shining in the gloom like crystals, as he heaved in shallow breaths.

Biting down on her lower lip, Astarte walked up to the cot and sat down on a stool beside it. Beside her love and light. The light that was now struggling to keep burning, fighting the deadly poison coursing through his veins. Up this close, she could plainly see how unwell he really was.

Abaddon was always the strongest of the heavenly warriors. Unbreakable. Someone Astarte looked up to ever since he quite literally took her under his wing when Malahidael couldn't deal with her overconfidence and lack of respect. Those were ones of her most cherished memories.. And now? It seemed all it would take was so much as sneezing in his direction to send his soul plummeting into the Well. Seeing him like this.. weak, broken and vulnerable… it made Astarte feel small and insignificant.

A choked huff that slipped past Abaddon's chapped lips as his whole body shivered violently, did very little to calm Astarte down. Her heart sank, corners of her mouth sagged sadly, when his eyelids twitched and his upper lip peeled back to reveal his teeth. Hesitantly, she reached out to him and ran her fingers through his white hair as he kept thrashing about in his feverish sleep and muttering.

"To- to me, Hellguard... As- Astarte… where are you..?"

"I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere…"

She whispered and leaned down to place a kiss to his trembling lips. Not going anywhere. Gently brushing her fingers against his cheek, hot like fire, she kept talking to him softly until his shivers eased and he fell into a much deeper and calmer sleep. She wasn't going to leave him. Not now. Not when he needs her the most. Not when she needs him..

For the next three days or so there was no change whatsoever. Abaddon kept drifting in and out of consciousness, delirious with scorching fever - sometimes weakly calling Astarte's name - and barely aware of anything happening around him. And he wasn't getting better. Astarte stayed at his side, silent and hopeful. His lieutenant hadn't moved from her place even if either Maral or someone else came over and proposed to change her in her shift so that Astarte may rest, to which the answer was "I'm not going to be able to sleep anyway.". She was helping with changing bandages and making sure the cloth on his forehead remains cool. The latter part was rather frustrating as the water in the basin next to the cot kept freezing over and with her nerves already in shreds Astarte barely held back from angrily lobbing it across the tent.

All the time she spent at Abaddon's side she was begging him to wake up, open his eyes and look at her. And every time he was shifting from uneasy delirium to numb unconsciousness she died a little bit inside out of fear that this time his heart may have given up.

"This has to be a nightmare…"

She once muttered to herself clutching Abaddon's motionless hand which felt like heated in a fire, hoping in vain that his grip will tighten any second now.

"And this is my fault.."

No words were able to put her mind at ease. The blame was rightfully on her, even though no one told her outright "It's because of you. You've failed him." She just convinced herself that it's the truth. Her duty was to protect Abaddon when he wasn't able to do so on his own. And despite Suriel, Maral and many others saying that it's a good thing she reacted so quickly, because were it not for her warning it could've ended much worse, the overwhelming feeling of guilt still remained.

And after those three days of emotional torment none other than the archangel Raphael arrived at the camp, carrying a message from the Council of Angels, ordering those injured who can be safely moved to return to the City. Without any exceptions. And that meant Astarte as well. But her Commander was to stay at the camp until he's cleansed of the vile venom threatening his life since there was a risk he would not survive this journey.

Astarte knew that she's leaving Abaddon in good hands. If anyone could help him, it would be the head healer of the White City. Still, she felt guilty for being forced to abandon him. Alongside a group of wounded angels, she left for her home with a heavy heart. All she could do was wait, harboring a feeling she found absolutely horrible. Helplessness. Wanting to act, feeling the need to, but being incapable of doing so. She should be with him, not hiding behind the White Gates! This was her duty. She swore to stand beside him no matter what. And now, the Council of Angels made her break this vow.

The next few days Astarte spent living in a lucid dream. A nightmare to be more accurate. Praying for Abaddon to pull through. She found herself often staring into the void, thinking. She missed his voice, his reassuring presence. His touch… Where is he? Is he alright? He has to be… Doesn't he? Of course he does! He's been through much worse more than once already. One bolt, even coated in noxious substance can't be enough to put him down. Unless… This was the thought that kept torturing Astarte. This "unless". After all, she'd seen how bad it was. How even with the antitoxin her Commander seemed to continue to slip away. Whatever the demons used, it must've been a truly horrendous poison..

When a week of solitude has gone by, reality started to sink in. It was taking too long already. Abaddon should've been healed by now. His absence could only mean… No! Raphael wouldn't fail. It's impossible! He can't be dead. Can he…? And even if so, the word about the demise of Abaddon of all people should have already been spread around the White City. But instead.. nothing. No news. Silence. Eventually, in this uncertainty and lack of any signs from anyone who remained at the camp, Astarte slowly started to believe, even though her heart screamed in denial. Sitting on the side of her bed in her home, she stared at her own boots, seconds ticked by, each lasting way longer than it should. What if he is gone? What is she going to do?

The Council will name her the next leader of the Hellguard without a doubt. All of Abaddon's responsibilities will be passed down to her. Maybe she will be able to forget if she keeps herself busy? She should've known that falling in love was a bad idea. Both she and Abaddon are warriors. Even with their unmatched skill, it was only a matter of time before one of them fell. But what could she do about it? He taught her so much, gave her all his knowledge and even offered his own heart that remained cold and stern for anyone but her. This last gift she could not reject as her own soul yearned to be close to him after everything he'd done for her. She couldn't win with it. Even though she tried her best once. Before she knew what he felt. Before… everything. She missed those times when Abaddon was no one else to her than her Commander perfectly capable of kicking her butt in any sparring to make sure she stays in line...

A quiet sound of opening doors caught her attention and made her head snap up. It was so sudden and unexpected that she felt a jolt of fear in her stomach. But with this fear came a shy ray of hope. Only one angel in the entire City walked into her house without knocking and only because she said he doesn't have to because he'd always be welcome. A rustle of feathers as a pair of wings beat once, a barely audible thud right behind the door to her bedroom. The doorknob moved. Slowly turned around and soon in the crack of the door, a pair of familiar blue lights appeared. Her heart hastened and her eyes grew wide like saucers. Could it… be true? Her hopes faded soon enough when she realised that it was probably just Azrael coming again to try and console her and her imagination is merely playing tricks on her. But the voice she heard seconds later made her heart skip a beat.

"Astarte?"

Still rather pale and swaying lightly on his legs, his eyes dull and devoid of their shine, Abaddon stepped into her room with relief painted across his face once he saw her before him. Words couldn't describe what was happening in her head at this moment. On the one hand she was absolutely ecstatic. He's alive. He hasn't left her despite the gravity of his recent condition. But on the other hand, she felt angry. Where was he all this time? Why was he keeping her in the dark? Not even a word when she was here already mourning and thinking how she should tackle becoming a leader all of the sudden. Jumping up to her feet, Astarte rushed over to him, closing the distance in one beat of her wings, just as he opened his arms in a welcoming gesture. Only to retract in shock once her palm loudly met his face, leaving a stinging sensation in its wake. However, Abaddon didn't have time to react in any way aside from looking at Astarte with disbelief before she threw her arms around his neck and tugged him down into a kiss.

"You are giving mixed signals."

He chuckled, oblivious to the red handprint forming on his cheek once Astarte pulled away to glare daggers at him.

"I thought I lost you! Again! Don't ever do that to me!"

She yelled at him, respect towards superiors be damned. In all of her life she'd never been so scared. She remembered one time when Abaddon did get severely wounded but he quickly got out of this. Now it was three times as bad. Back then she could've at least stayed with him. Astarte didn't feel sorry for that slap to the face, the bastard had it coming for a long time now. And it seemed that he was well aware he deserved that one.

"Forgive me. I'll do my best never to let something like that happen again. Is there a way to make up for it?"

Angels don't cry. It's not like they aren't fully equipped to do so, they just… don't. Especially warriors. It doesn't suit a warrior to cry. If they do however, for good reasons. And Astarte felt she was on the verge of snapping, her vision turned misty as tears were forcing its way into her eyes. But no. She refused to fall apart, especially in front of her Commander. Looking up at him and fighting the tremble in her voice, she answered so quietly it might seem she didn't really meant to say that out loud. But he did hear it.

"Stay with me… And don't let go.."

His hands came up to her cheeks and he looked her deep in the eye with a soft smile on his face. The first tear had fallen once he pressed his forehead against hers and sighed contentedly before fully closing the distance and laying his lips on hers.

"Here, tonight.. your wish is my command."

He replied and encased her in a comforting embrace, holding her head against his chest as though to show her he's still here. And the steady heartbeat below her ear made her cry out in relief. If she's dreaming, then she doesn't want to ever wake up again. No.. this heartbeat felt far too real.

Perhaps it would've been seen as improper, but she had to make sure. Astarte reached out with her shaking hand to him and Abaddon didn't stop her as she peeled back the collar of his tunic to expose the bandage still concealing the wound he suffered from recently. Her hand carefully rested over it. He felt real. It was no dream. The nightmare has come to an end. He's here. Safe.. For this short moment, they both are.

For once in the ceaseless conflict between Heaven and Hell, Astarte could feel at peace and so could he. Just to seek reassurance, she placed the pads of her fingers on his throat to feel his pulse. To feel that he's truly with her, alive, holding her close, folding his wings around her.. and that this night he isn't going anywhere.

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

Idk, I just wanted to draw something and this happened in turn 😆

Also, I can't draw Astarte's face to save my life 😂

It's weird, I know, but I wanted to do something for Valentines. Back into the cringe abyss I go.

[onebloodsoakedlion]

Entertainment at all Costs Prologue

Entertainment at all Costs Prologue: Crucified

Ryoma had found himself nailed by his paws to two perdendicular lengths of rubber-coated metal. People had surrounded him, mostly dressed up like Nohrians, hurling insults at him, telling him he should’ve committed seppuku, calling him a lobster, showing him videos of him killing himself. In all honesty, it wasn’t the physical pain of being nailed to this... thing... but rather the psychological torment the people were putting him through. “Hey,” a woman’s voice raspily called out to him. Ryoma turned his head to his right and saw a darker-skinned woman with messy black hair wearing a grey hoodie and black jeans, nailed to a similar structure, except it was made completely out of wood, “Think of it this way, at least you’re gonna die eventually and your suffering will end.” A chuckle came from Ryoma’s right, “If only they’d break our legs already! Then we wouldn’t have to wait so long.” It was a man with a slightly lighter skin tone than Ryoma’s, with neat brown hair, a black sweater with the sleeves rolled up and black trousers. He seemed pretty optimistic despite the situation that the three were in.

It wasn’t like Ryoma didn’t try to escape this fate. But his captors and tormentors alike seemed to know EVERYTHING about him. They had caught Ryoma off-guard, wearing specialised armour that seemed to absorb everything lightning strike Ryoma threw at them. In the end, Ryoma ended up draining all his power without hurting anybody. Even the structure Ryoma was nailed to, called a “cross”, was tailor-made to prevent his escape. Ryoma could’ve called down lightning to burn down the crosses of the man and woman who were nailed to their wooden crosses, but there was no question that the guards would overpower them. Ryoma was resigned to his fate, but he remained defiant until the end, scraping up every bit of charge that he slowly regenerated to call down lighthing on the unarmoured citizens who were mocking him, but even then, due to the lightning rods the guards carried, Ryoma was only able to deliver a painful shock that could not do any lasting damage. As for Ryoma’s sheer strength, his captors were ready for that also. Several heavily armed men had pinned Ryoma down to the cross they were nailing and tying him to. As he struggled, he heard someone ask about paralysing him, only for another to reply saying that it would make him die too quickly from suffocation, because he needed his legs to push himself up to breathe.

“So... tired...” the woman groaned, gasping for air. “It means you’re going to die,” the man replied, “Crucifixion works that way. Eventually you get too tired to breathe. Then you suffocate.” “Finally...” the woman replied, forcing a relieved smile, “That means... I won’t... suffer...” she slumped, and stopped moving completely, the shock causing Ryoma to panic and struggle, tearing the flesh of his paws as his fluffed-up tail twitched in response. “Hey, calm down buddy,” the man exclaimed, “Unless you wanna die quicker.” “I don’t wanna die,” Ryoma whimpered back, hyperventilating “I don’t wanna...” “Well, I very much doubt anyone will come to save us,” the man replied, “Unless God wants to perform some sort of miracle, but I don’t know if He will... I guess I’ll just have to wait and see.” Ryoma’s ears, which were initally flattened to the sides, sunk down so much that they were almost completely hidden by his mane. Not only was he fearful, but this felt humiliating, being nailed to a cross with no way to save himself, having to wait for someone to come and save him. That was, if they would come at all. Hope faded even more when the man, only minutes later, succumbed to fatigue. The guards, noticing the deaths of the man and woman, took their bodies away. Now Ryoma was alone, completely alone, surrounded by assholes who continued to mock him. It was only his superhuman endurance that had kept him alive up until this point. And for the first time in his entire life, Ryoma saw it as a curse. But after what felt like an entire day, Ryoma could finally feel the crushing weight of fatigue settle on him. The voices got louder and his vision began to fade. Within minutes, only the voices remained.

Ryoma found himself lying on his back on a stony surface. His body felt like it was wrapped in bandages. The smell of perfume was quite overpowering. He struggled, trying to free himself, before inadvertantly emitting an electric charge that set the bandages on fire. Ryoma panicked at the hot, burning flames that consumed the bandages, thrashing about, until he rolled off the bench and crashed onto the ground. The Rajinto, which must’ve been placed in the pitch black room with him, clattered onto his head. Ryoma could barely move. His paws throbbed, his legs ached, but it wasn’t that. It was the voices. They were too loud. Ryoma was paralysed by his mind being unable to think about anything but the voices. Then another voice joined the mix. A muffling came from above him. Ryoma growled and shook his head to snap out of it, before picking up the Rajinto and activating it to shed some light. Only a tiny bit of power was needed to light up the room, thanks to Ryoma’s feline eyes.

Ryoma was in a strange cave with the sides lined with two rows of stone benches. Two bodies lay on the benches, wrapped in bandages. Ryoma quickly cut the bodies free with his Rajinto, revealing the man and woman from before. “Ugh,” the man groaned, “Is it good morning, good afternoon or good night? I can’t see a thing!” In response, Ryoma put more power into the Rajinto’s glow. “Hey, it’s you,” the man exclaimed, “Where are we? Is this the afterlife.” “I don’t think so,” Ryoma quitely replied, “I think we somehow managed to survive.” “So that means our suffering is gonna continue,” the woman muttered. Ryoma walked up to the woman, brandishing his katana, “Or... I can end yours right here for sure. A nice thrust of this blade through your head will ensure you don’t feel anything.” The woman sat wide-eyed for a few moments, before shaking her head in fear. “Why would you do that,” the man exclaimed, “What the hell is WRONG with you!?” “I was offering a Mercy Kill,” Ryoma replied, “And since she said no, I won’t go through with it.” “Whatever, how are we going to get out of here anyway?” “Well, I can see what looks to be an exit,” Ryoma replied, pointing to a flat wall, “But it’s locked. I suppose I’ll just have to see if I can break it.” And break it he did. A few well placed punches cracked and crumbled the wall, revealing what looked to be a wide area of bushland. “So I guess it really is good morning,” the man commented. “I can’t care less what time of the day it is,” Ryoma growled back, “Let’s get out of here.”

“Who are you really,” the man asked, “you saved us both!” “Ryoma. And you?” “I’m Truman Burbank! I’m like, the star of my show but I was being forced to live my life a certain way... and then this happened!” “What about you,” Ryoma asked, turning towards the woman.” “I... can’t remember,” the woman replied, “But people were calling me... Victoria Skillane. That name seems familiar,” she clutched her head in pain, “but I don’t know why...!” “You okay, Victoria,” Truman asked, rather concerned. “My head,” Victoria groaned, “I keep... seeing things! It hurts!” “Don’t worry, you two,” Ryoma replied, “I’m gonna get you to someone who can help you. You’ll be fine.”

[annabelle-creart]

The Multiverse Storm. Shenanigans👍

For short:

LoRB: Life of Rescue Bots

S-T: Star-Catcher

AB: Adventure Bots

OP: Onyx Prime (Au by @/gelu-the-babosa-multiversal

SG: Shattered Glass

S-T Heatwave: Hi-!

LoRB Heatwave: BY PRIMUS- DON'T DO THAT!!

S-T Heatwave: do what?

LoRB Heatwave: APPEAR FROM THE FUCKING NOTHING- YOU SCARED ME!!! Did nobody told you that's not okay?!?!?!

S-T Heatwave: well- yeah, but-

LoRB Heatwave: Why do you do that then???

S-T Heatwave: I just got accomplished, you know?

LoRB Heatwave: Well, got dis-accomplished!

---

LoRB Kade: For what's the hat?

S-T Heatwave: The what-? The hat? Oh, well- is a gift

LoRB Kade: and the big feather on it was necessary? It looks like the hats the three mosketers used!

S-T Heatwave: the three what?

LoRB Kade: The three mosketers! Don't you know the story?

S-T Heatwave: well, humans don't exist, not where I come from, so, no

LoRB Kade: well, you're talking with the perfect guy, because I have something you might like

---

AB Boulder: ...what was that?

S-T Heatwave: that was AWESOME!!! CAN WE DO IT AGAIN??

LoRB Kade: movies are not that good when you watch it twice the same day

AB Boulder: yeah... this wasn't my cup of tea

S-T Heatwave: I don't know what's tea but I liked this! There's more?

LoRB Kade: So Much More!

---

LoRB Cody: are you sure about this?

OP Cody: i just want to ask

LoRB Cody: to him?

OP Cody: are you scared of him?

LoRB Cody: sincerely, yes

SG Chase: that's a good thinking

OP Cody: But- we were hidden, how did you knew we were here?

SG Chase: you're the worst spies I had ever met

OP Cody: Did you met a lot?

SG Chase: yes. And I took care of all of them

OP Cody: well, you can't do much on a electrified cell

SG Chase: what do you want? Eat my spark?

OP Cody: I don't do that

SG Chase: really? I thought Primes did

OP Cody: How do you know that?

SG Chase: I worked for Primes, I can recognize one only by seeing it. But don't overstimate yourself, you're still a kid. You're still tiny, enough to smash with only one servo

OP Cody: I don't fear you! Now, what do you know about the storm-?

Chase hitted with closed fist the bars of the cell, the lighthing, of course scared both kids, specially the griffin, all his feathers growed up in fear

Chase's whole fist looked black, burned, but he never mocked or said anything, not even his faceplate said anything

SG Chase: I don't fear you, Prime. Do you fear me now?

[maskedprepperkid]

Higgs’ Dooms

Or more accurately Higgs’ Dooms and why I think they’re not his own. Grab a snack because we’re gonna be here for a hot sec.

Okay so Higgs’ Dooms are something... something, that’s for sure, whether it be with or without Amelie’s powers, but I wanna focus on how they work without that for a moment. And because that’s a whole entire topic itself I will for the moment forgo where he falls on the Dooms scale because let me be honest, I’m really not sure what should qualify as level one because there is one thing I’m fairly certain of -- I doubt that Dooms are meant to disappear every now and then like his do. And if we take that away as a qualifying factor and only focus on the rest, what remains is that he can sense BTs which would put him on the same level as Sam which is two so... let’s just... let’s just NOT Go There for the moment.

So with that not being a problem for the moment, I have a theory about why they keep disappearing. Which is simply put - they’re not his own. They are part of him, he can make use of them but at the end of the day they don’t belong to him, they belong to his vanished twin.

The vanishing twin syndrome occurs when a pregnancy starts out with twins, but one of them dies so early that it goes unnoticed. Instead of leading to a miscarriage the dead twin is absorbed by the remaining one and by the time anyone checks all they find is one baby and nobody is none the wiser.

The process is completely harmless for everyone involved (if we don’t factor in hereditary illnesses and the likes) and results is a twin with two sets of DNA. Their own and that of their vanished sibling. There is actually not a lot of data about this outside of acamedical studies, and the most infamous cases are about people who were proven to not be the genetic parents of their children because their reproductive organs weren’t their own but genetically speaking those of their twins, which technically made them more of an aunt/uncle to their kids. That being said, I’m pretty sure the whole deal applies to more people than we know of but because a set of lungs that’s not your DNA and doesn’t cause problems is very boring to many people it’s not something that’s commonly tested for.

So consider this: Higgs has Dooms in his body, but they aren’t attched to his own DNA. The DNA they belong to is however, partially like his own, which is why he can use them as long as he charges them well enough. But also because your body is always working on more or less slowly renewing everything inside and out, it would make sense why his powers end up vanishing after a while when his connection is fickle to begin with. It wouldn’t cause him any harm and considering that Lucy proves that a second set of DNA, related to your own, inside of your body can cause Dooms symptoms it’s not exactly far-fetched either.

As far as we know Bridget didn’t think that was possible in the first place, so we can assume that people like Higgs with fickle Dooms generally fall under the radar of the normal scale. It would also explain why his journal didn’t have any mentions of nightmares, which going by all that he recorded should have been part of it, but this way it’s just as likely that he didn’t have them till Amelie bumped up his powers big time.

Okay so this all begs the question, what are they tied to, doesn’t it? Which part of his body isn’t his own. And I’m gonna go all out here and say his blood. Yeah that’s actually a thing, in some people the whole ordeal results in two blood types. From what I understand it’s usually a very uneven split with one type clearly dominating over the other, so no 50/50 splits. Or at least very, very, very uncommon. And I don’t think Higgs’ split was ever double digits on the second end, at least not until Amelie bumped up his powers. If anyone tested his blood now, the results would be pretty wonky I think.

There’s a bit more to that though, I specifically think it’s his blood because Higgs has been shown to have a very tacticle connection to That World/The Other Side. He needs to have a hand on the dead bodies before they turn to gain his Dooms, he shot lighthing at the sky from his finger, he basically vapourised his hands at the beginning of the game before pulling up a catcher by his fingertips. And his clairevoyance is tied to his sense of smell. It’s been a golden thread throughout everything we see of him and his interactions with That World. So it would just kind of make sense as to why his connection works on such a tactile level.

[hoseokslefteyebrow]

House Of Cards || K.SJ |

INFO CHAPTER

Pairing : Kim Seokjin X Reader

Genre : nothing specifically yet

Summary : When a war threatens the world of Mythica, the four greatest tribes are forced to work together in order to defeat the darkness. You and Jin are fr two different teibes, two different backgrounds, and are expected to stand together in order to save everyone you love. Will you teo put aside your diffrences in order to save the world or will you fail?

Info Chapter | House Of Cards Masterlist | Next

Soulmates

Soulmates are a very common thing in Mythica. Soulmate bonds exist out of one human and one animal. The human and their Soulmate are able to communicate by the animal sharing their toughs with their human. If one of them dies, the other will too between a week or so. The most common bond is the one with a Pixi. The most unusual one is the one with a Phoenix.

Dragon Lands

There's five different lands, which belong to the Dragon Lands. The cold and snowy Winter Mountains, the incredibly hot and dry Sahara, the lively and green Spring Forest, the hot and stony Lava Volcanoes, the death lurking and dangerous Death Valleys and most of the unpredictable and wild Atlantic Ocean. The lands are unapproachable for most as they are heavily guarded. The skies are full of Dragons, the seas are full of Sea Serpents and the grounds are guarded by both Drakes and Dragons. It's impossible for human kind to enter unless you're born there, even if you're soulmates with one of the animals you cannot enter the lands. Only the people of the Dragon tribe and Phoenix tribe live here.

Fae Lands

Fae lands are the most common lands where human live with their soulmates. It exists out of two landscapes, the Blossom Mountains and the Black Woods.The Blossom Mountains are lively, green and has clear bleu waters. It is also connected to the Bleu Sea. The Black Woods are filled with dead trees, murky waters and evil creaturs. It's connected with the Deep Sea.

Tribes

There's a lot of tribes tough the four biggest are the Unicorn Tribe, the Pegasus Tribe, the Phoenix Tribe and the Dragon Tribe. You usually join a tribe trough your soulmate or being born in it, but there's also exceptions for the people who want to join.

Types of Dragons

Fire - Most common. ( Red/Orange)

Water - Most common. ( Bleu)

Fairy - Common. ( Green )

Poison/Venom - Rare. (Black + Green/ + Red / + Bleu)

Earth - Common. ( Brown) 

Air - Common. ( Silver/ Grey)

Lighthing -Rare. ( Bleu/Black + Yellow)

Death- Rare ( Black/Purple)

Light - Rare ( White + Yellow)

Gold- Extremely rare. ( Gold)

Hoard

A dragon's hoard is basically a dragon's treasure. For every dragon it's something different. Some dragon may like gold while others like flowers. The hoard is always guarded by it's dragon, no matter how far away they are. Soulmates are usually also part of the hoard, if the dragon has one that is.

Types of Pegasus

Fire - Rare. ( Red/Orange)

Water - Common. ( Baby Bleu)

Fairy - Rare. (Green)

Earth - Most common. (Brown)

Air - Most common. ( White)

Gold- Extremely Rare. ( Gold)

Types of Unicorn

Magical - common. ( Any unnatural colour + a white horn.)

Non-Magical - common. ( Any natural colour with a white horn.)

[ A/N : Geuss who decided to launch this story because I'm bored and managef to complete the story line]

[laptopsmedia]

Is Alienware 2022 worth it?

Alienware is a subsidiary of Dell, a reputable company. This company is well-known for manufacturing high-end gaming laptops.

Although Alienware laptops are not inexpensive, they are well worth the investment in the long run. These laptops are built to last and come with cutting-edge hardware and components.

Gaming laptop Alienware m15 R7

The mid-size Alienware laptop is the one to get if you're interested in Alienware's gaming notebooks.

The most recent update retains the previous year's design, which, while still quite ludicrous, is at least somewhat slim.

However, you now have access to the most recent Intel and NVIDIA technology, resulting in an impressive package.

The Best Alienware Laptop m15 R7 is powered by 12th Gen Intel processors or an AMD Ryzen option, 8GB or 16GB RAM, up to a 1TB M.2 PCIe SSD, and a powerful NVIDIA RTX GPU ranging from the 3050 Ti to the 3070.

It has a 15.6-inch 1080p display with up to 360Hz refresh rate or a QHD panel with 240Hz refresh rate, a 1ms response time, and optional NVIDIA G-Sync support.

Gaming laptop Alienware x15 R2

The x15 is Alienware's first complete redesign of its 15-inch gaming laptops in a few years, and it's been treated as a separate model rather than a new m15.

The x15 is Alienware's thinnest and lightest gaming laptop ever, which is quite an accomplishment considering the company's long history of producing powerful but bulky notebooks.

The x15's latest R2 refresh includes an entirely new cooling system that improves thermal performance by up to 25%.

This allows you to get a lot of power out of a small space while still ensuring proper heat dissipation.

Gaming laptop Alienware x17 R2

The x17 R2 is a large, powerful 17-inch device packed with cutting-edge hardware.

This is a laptop, but it has the processing power of a high-end desktop computer. The x17, on the other hand, benefits from being portable and portable.

The x17's wide range of specifications and prices adds to its appeal.

At the low end, you can get a 12th Gen Intel Core i7 processor with an RTX 3060, while at the high end, you can go all out with a 12th Gen Core i9 processor and the mighty RTX 3080 Ti.

It is not inexpensive, but it is one of the thinnest and most powerful 17-inch laptops on the market. Oh, and a 4K display is no longer synonymous with 60Hz, as the display's refresh rate of 120Hz makes it ideal for high-stakes gaming.

While gazing at thousands of pixels, you can enjoy your high frame rate

Best Video Conferencing Lighting

Video conferencing has numerous productivity and quality-of-life benefits, especially when working from home. However, it has done nothing to improve our image.

In a Best Lighthing for Video Conferencing setup, poor lighting can make you appear washed out, tired, uncaring, or even ill.

Looking sharp in the business world conveys professionalism and bandwidth, and it can even boost your confidence and earning potential.

We've gathered top tips and gear backed by vloggers and other online video pros because most of us are tired of looking less than our Best Lighthing for Video Conferencing in an increasing barrage of conference calls.

Sit facing a window for the quickest Zoom conference call setup. Facing a window is usually a no-no in ergonomics because the bright light outside strains your eyes. If Zoom calls are only a minor part of your workday, you may find that flipping this rule has significant benefits.

Sit facing a window to look your best during Zoom and Microsoft Teams calls on a budget. Indirect sunlight shining through a window softens all the hard edges, creating the ideal "overcast day" for photographers.

However, because outdoor lighting varies, your results will vary depending on the weather and time of day.

As useful as this video conference lighting tip is, it is unlikely to give you that professional executive appearance.

The most affordable video lighting

The most cost-effective way to improve the appearance of your video conferencing is to replace your lightbulbs.

The goal is to achieve uniform colour temperature across all of your light sources. As a result, make sure that all of your bulbs are the same colour.

The most warmth and brightness are provided by daylight LED bulbs. In general, you want light that floods the room and illuminates the wall behind your head.

Overhead lighting that illuminates your face and torso without being too harsh can make you look washed out.

Replace the bulbs in your overhead light and desk lamp with LED bulbs to achieve both of these goals.

[theartofmany]

Artist: Mark Chang Title: Lightning Great work by this great artist...

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