#orb of prophecy and change

[dandelion-blues]

#7 What if...

Kronos was a somewhat good grandpa?

Percy couldn't say he was relieved when Luke took that knife to himself, there was too much pain in death for that to be the case.

But nonetheless, in that deep seated exhaustion that wove in his very bones, Percy just wanted everything to be over.

Then, as Luke lay dying, his bright blue eyes seared into Percy and made him promise to not forget about the demigods, to make the gods be better.

Percy knew his job wasn’t yet done, because as Luke took his last breath, the shadows overtook the throne room. The hearth just mere embers, and a magical laugh echoed around the chambers.

Annabeth was crying over Luke’s corpse and didn't seem to notice anything wrong in her grief, but Percy did. He always noticed, even though Annabeth would most likely disagree.  She does call him Seaweed Brain after all. But just because Percy doesn't speak up about what he notices doesn’t mean he's dumb.

It's why, when his instincts screamed at him, he raised his sword just as a great metal scythe came sweeping down at him.

“Oh, grandson. I long since outgrow that boy's body, but you fought brilliantly. But now I am back at full power, you will not be able to stop me as you are. Still, for you to not only sense my strike, but stop it… I knew you were special. You really should have joined my side,” Kronos says, his words like honey, as he presses his scythe down upon Percy’s sword. Golden cracks were seeping from Kronos’ bronze skin, showing his divinity leaking through.

Percy snarled, his green eyes blazing with fury, “I'd rather die!”

And Percy looked over to Annabeth for help, but she was not moving, her tears frozen in time on her cheeks.

Percy froze in fear, his heart pounding. Kronos was no longer in Luke's body and his powers restricted. Kronos had his own body now, and his abilities were restored.

However, Percy’s freezing was a fatal mistake, as Kronos pressed on with more force forcing Percy’s sword from his hand.

Percy looked up, his eyes wide in fear as he stared in Kronos golden orbs.

Except as Percy’s sword came clanging to the ground and Kronos swung his scythe. The titan leveled the blade just against his throat.

Kronos croons, “Don’t worry grandson. I couldn’t possibly kill you when I see so much of myself and Rhea in your eyes.”

Percy startles and flinches as Kronos touches Percy’s face gently, pulling black strands behind his ears.

“Hmm?” Kronos hums, “Don’t worry you’ll understand in time. For now just sleep, and we’ll celebrate later when I discipline my kids.”

“Stop-” Percy says, but then he feels a pinch on the back of his neck, and everything fades to black.

The last thing he hears is Kronos’ voice comforting him…

~~~

Kronos at first hated all these mortal pests that had the blood of gods in their veins.

Mortals weren’t worthy of such a gift.

Unfortunately, Kronos needed to play along with the pests' plans in order to revive.

However, how he started to view these pests, or rather just one pest, changed when he met the son of his Poseidon, his grandson, Perseus Jackson.

Perseus was different then the other pests - demigods. He was just twelve when Kronos first slipped in his dreams, and already Pereus was powerful, defiant, but then Kronos saw his eyes, Rhea's eyes. Kronos could barely stomach it when he swallowed Poseidon, his son with Rhea's eyes.

But now it seems that another inherited her eyes. The one who would be the doom or savior of Olympus. And should die when he was sixteen.

No, this one would not be the one to fulfill the prophecy. He couldn't be.

Kronos sent the boy nightmares, hoping he would pray to his father. That Poseidon would scue the boy. Except that never happened.

And so the next thing that Kronos could do was set his vessel to poison the daughter of Zeus, so a quest would be sent and the Golden Fleece would be retrieved to not only help heal him, but the daughter of Zeus as well, so she would be the one to fulfill the prophecy.

Of course, everything went downhill from there and that daughter of Zeus ran away from the prophecy and gave it to his grandson.

Huh? When did Kronos start thinking of Perseus as his grandson? From the moment he saw Rhea's eyes.

And after his grandson saved Artemis and by holding Atlas’ weight the gods voted to kill his grandson!

As if he hasn't already saved them and proven himself before!

It made Kronos resolve to tear Olympus down all the more.

And so, even as he had to fight his grandson to do so, he would, for Perseus for power.

Of course no one but Kronos himself knew that he would never mortally injure the boy. It's why when his scythe, which is said to suck the life from one's soul, struck, Perseus was merely fatigued.

And Kronos regularly asked for updates on how Perseus is doing from that daughter of Aphrodite.

It's how he found out Perseus’ powers were growing every day, he was long on his way to ascending.

Oh, and how that daughter of Athena was trying to shackle his grandson to mortality by seducing Perseus of all things. As if that girl would ever be good enough for his grandson! She, he always calls him stupid, and tests him at every opportunity. No! Kronos would not stand for that!

Then, the final battle came. Unfortunately his spy turned traitor and died, but it didn't matter because the battle lines were drawn. And Perseus was practically glowing in his divinity.

It would be soon!

Perseus made his choice, but it was too late to stop Kronos, for he was already healed.

And Kronos fought Perseus one on one. The boy didn't even notice that he glowed, his veins golden. Too fueled by anger to stop and think why he could still move when Kronos stopped time, and that daughter of Athena did not.

Unfortunately, when he noticed that time was stopped all around him, the boy froze, and Kronos took the advantage.

And when Kronos saw the wide eyed fear in those green eyes he reassured him that he would not kill him. How could he, when he came to care for the boy?

However, Perseus startles and flinches as Kronos goes to comfort the boy by face gently, pulling black strands behind his ears.

“Hmm?” Kronos hums, knowing the boy is too brainwashed by the gods and too young to understand, “Don’t worry you’ll understand in time. For now just sleep, and we’ll celebrate later when I discipline my kids.”

“Stop-” Perseus says, but Kronos swiftly pinches a nerve on the boy's neck, and the boy slumps forward into his open arms.

Kronos whispers to his grandson comfortably and holds him like a little one to his chest, “Don't worry, I'll take care of you, my grandson.”

Notes:

Whelp! At least Kronos doesn't want Percy to die. Maybe he'll even do alright with being the new prince of the Titans.

First - Previous - Next "What if...?"

[moonlilith]

Lunar Tears, One

𐦍☾

“The moon illuminated the area with its faint light, a quiet testament to their entwined fates. With a secret weighing heavily on her, she stood before Alucard, her heart a battleground of want and terror. Torn between love and sorrow that reverberated for eons, she looked into his eyes for clarification and forgiveness. However, the past hovered between them like a ghost, threatening to devour their brittle optimism.”

(Or, in addition to the initial trio, the prophecy has one additional fated hero. You are that hero. A saintess that the Church is pursuing.)

pairing: alucard (castlevania) x (f) reader

genre: angst, romance, slow burn,

a/n : On ao3 there is a name for plot reasons but here i decided to use “you” as more general but “you” have a woman figure. I tried to make it seems like an alucard x reader as possible. However the reader insert has a set personality and powers. to answer any questions; it was meant to be a reader story but personally i hate the usage of y/n. The more i write y/n the more it becomes a name itself.

𐦍  Chapters: check masterlist  ☾  Check AO3

Chapter One: The Moon’s Witness  

The moon wept silver tears in Alucard’s dream, each dropping a spark of light against the approaching darkness. Alucard, his form shrouded in the darkness, stirred. Restless nights were nothing new to him; the chilly weight of his ancestry and the echoes of past conflicts frequently disturbed his sleep. The dream, however, was different tonight.

As usual, it started with the moon. A woman he had never met was illuminated by a glowing orb that hung heavy in the night sky. your features were hidden by a thin veil, but she exuded a warmth that cut through the coldness he had been used to. She was surrounded by silver light. An unexplainable attraction towards a brightness he was unaware he sought pulled him to you.

He was a prisoner in his mind when he saw a woman emerge from the shadows, your form as bright as the moon. She was a ray of hope in a world full of misery, a vision of ethereal beauty. The tears, however, kept coming, each one hinting at sacrifice and foreshadowing sadness. 

The scene changed then. The woman was now surrounded by flames rather than moonlight, and her calm face was contorted in pain. She screamed, but the roaring flames drowned them out, and he felt a flood of misery sweep over him, a grief so deep it almost ate him up. With an instinctive need to defend, fight, and save, he raged while he slept, his hands curling into fists and his fangs baring.

He woke up with a start, the dream's weight bearing down on him, a sensation of fate beckoning him along an uncharted line. He awoke with a jolt, the weight of the dream pressing down on him, a sense of destiny calling him down an unknown path. In brief flashes and bits and pieces, he had seen this woman before. 

The flames and the moon are constant. The dream, however, was different tonight. It was frantic, urgent. He had an unreasonably strong conviction that she was genuine. and that there was danger for you.

Sypha roused, her senses vibrating with an invisible energy in a secret camp tucked away in the whispering trees. she had also sensed it—a rippling in the fabric of magic, a glimmer of light piercing the darkness. Long disregarded as a myth, the prophesy now felt terrifyingly true. You muttered, "The Saintess," as her eyes opened to reflect the gentle radiance of the moon. "She's calling to us."

Ever pragmatic, Trevor groaned as he used the wavering firelight to polish his blade. Whispers and prophecies. That seems like a foolish errand. But even as he spoke, he had a nagging feeling that something significant was going to happen. He knew that Alucard would not be influenced by mere fantasy, and he trusted Sypha's intuition. Sheathing his weapon, he surrendered, "Alright, Let's find this moon-kissed woman."

Alucard, Dracula's son, a creature of the dark looking for a glimmer of light in a world where everything is black. And until he found you, he would not stop.

Except for the raspy breaths of the dying man at your feet and the howling of wolves in the distance, the night was quiet. Silver moonlight through the ancient forest canopy illuminated and shadowed the woodland floor.  You knelt alongside him, your pale hands on his chest wound—another victim of their "righteousness," you thought, a bitter taste in your throat. 

They were labelled heretics, demons, and worthy of death by the Church.  But all you saw was pain.  Shutting your eyes, you concentrated on the lunar energy coursing through your body.  It was a gift, a link to the moon's soft power, which the Church vilified and misrepresented. 

Through the man's ripped flesh, a warm warmth radiated from your palms. His wounds were stitched shut by tiny, glowing butterflies that arose from the light like embers in the chilly night air.  With familiar anguish spreading through your limbs, you thought, every healing takes a piece of me.  The curse.  A continual reminder of the cost of your presents.

The man gasped, his eyes flying wide. His gaze was filled with relief, followed by wonder. He tried to speak, letting out a scratchy sound, but You pressed a finger across his lips. "You must go," you said urgently.  You looked to the dark line of trees where you had heard the distant thunder of approaching hooves.  "They're coming."  your heart raced against your ribs, a furious rhythm against the forest's calm.

The guy nodded, stumbling to his feet with jerky, uncontrolled motions. He flinched and gripped his side, yet there was a frantic comprehension in his eyes. His footsteps faded into the rustling leaves as he vanished into the forest. Your expression was fixed as you turned.

In an attempt to quiet the shaking in your hands, you inhaled deeply. It didn't help. The smell of steel and horses filled the air. With their torches lighting the landscape and creating long, swirling shadows that seemed to taunt you, the knights rushed into the clearing.

Bishop Valen thrust a quivering finger at you, his face twisted in anger. "Seize her! Tonight, the heretic shall burn. His spittle landed on the arid ground after flying.  The knights charged with their swords drawn. You did not hesitate. You realised you couldn't tackle them head-on. 

Not while the curse gnaws at your strength. You disintegrated into a flurry of moon moths, dispersing in all directions. The knights yelled in rage, striking their swords at the empty air. You gasped as you reappeared behind a tall tree. The effort had taken its toll. 

A piercing ache pierced your chest, and your vision dimmed. The curse. It was a continual reminder of how much you had spent on your gifts. Each use of your abilities drained your life energy. You pushed a palm to your side, attempting to ignore the dizziness.

Was it worthwhile? The question echoed in your mind, a cold whisper in the face of the encroaching danger.  Was it worth sacrificing a piece of yourself for someone else?

You dismissed the idea with a shake of your head, this was not the time nor place to overthink. However, the question still lingers like annoying mosquitoes buzz, the doubtful seed sown in the rich soil of your guilt. 

The man had been saved from certain death by your healing but at what price? your power was being drained by the curse, which was whispering sneaky doubts in your head. Exactly like they stated. A witch, a heretic. Damned. 

A soft bitter laugh escaped your lips. You were raised and taught to be The Saintess by the Church. They revered your marvellous healing powers but bit by bit you saw the darkness that slowly consumed the church. 

It started small and unnoticeable to You but when you saw the Church of Targoviste capturing, enslaving and burning people they speculated to be heretics, you had enough of turning a blind eye to the authority and power abused and just nodded when they said that you didn't know better and was too naive. 

“Get her!” Valen’s voice pierced through your mind, breaking the frail shelter of your memory. The knights regrouped, their torches drawing closer. You had to move, to escape. But a doubt persisted like a poison in your soul. Am I really any different from them?  Am I just using my power, like they used theirs, to justify my actions?

You dissolved back into the swarm of moths, desperate to escape not just the knights but also the anguish within yourself. As you reformed behind another tree, your knees buckled beneath you. The curse was taking a toll. You had never been weaker. If I keep using my powers, you thought, I'll never escape.  I'll just be another victim of their fire.

However, what options did you have? You couldn't watch helplessly as they took you. You had to struggle. You needed to live. Not only for yourself but also for everyone else who had been silenced by the brutality of the Church. With a secret prayer resonating in your heart, you closed your eyes and drew strength from the moon above. "Give me strength. Give me the strength to confront them, even if it means confronting my own demons.”

Opening your eyes, you noticed the knights' flames flickering through the trees, moving closer. You couldn't run. Not anymore. The curse had severely weakened you. Another flash of power, another escape, and you could collapse completely. You needed to find another method. You needed to be wiser than them.

They expect me to run, you realise, your mind racing. They expect me to use my abilities to escape. What if I don't? A scary thought began to emerge in your head. It was a gamble, a desperate move, but it could be your only hope. 

You took a deep breath and focused on the small pulse of lunar energy within you. It wasn't enough for a full-fledged escape, but it might suffice as a distraction. You vanished into the swarm of moths once more, but this time, instead of running, you led them towards the knights. They swirled about their heads, confounding them, flapping in their faces, extinguishing some of their candles, and forming pockets of greater darkness.

"What in the…" Valen sputtered and swatted at the moths. "Witchcraft! "Destroy them!" 

The knights, temporarily dazzled and disoriented, lunged out blindly, their swords crashing against one another. You regrouped behind a clump of thorny plants, watching their perplexity with cruel delight. It wasn't much, but it was sufficient. It gave you a few moments. You knew you could not stay. 

The diversion would not last long. But where would you go? The forest was huge, but it provided little actual shelter. Every shade appeared to cover a lurking Inquisitor, and every rustle of foliage sounded like approaching footsteps. 

Then you thought of the man you had cured. Orlin was the village he had mentioned. A location where you might find refuge, a place where they would take you in. You had no other leads, so it was a desperate hope and a long shot. You took a quick look at the moon to see where it was in the sky. You had to go east. 

However, the village and you were separated by the knights. You needed to figure out how to go past them, how to get past their defences without being noticed. You had another thought that was more riskier than the previous one. You would take advantage of their dread. You would capitalise on their superstitions and their faith in the nocturnal animals that prowled the forest. You concentrated the last of the lunar energy on one spot of light. 

Attacking them wasn't enough to actually hurt them. However, it was sufficient to produce a false impression. You moulded the light into a transient, ethereal shape—a creature of light and shadow, a phantom apparition that shimmered in the moonlight.

Then you let it go. 

The ethereal appearance flickered and distorted in the darkness as it drifted among the trees, muttering faintly. When the apparition appeared, the already tense knights froze, their eyes wide with terror. To fight off evil, some of them crossed themselves while muttering prayers. 

Twisting your lips into a bitter smile, You watched from the shadows. It was a simple illusion, a cheap trick. But you were desperate, and fear was a potent tool. You melted into the forest's deeper darkness as the knights clustered around, their gaze fixed on the spectral apparition. You were going to the east. In the direction of Orlin. In the direction of hope. In your heart, though, you knew that the hunters would not be simply defeated.  And the forest… the forest held dangers far greater than any Inquisitor.

Hiding behind a tree You needed to scout if bishops or nuns alike were present in the small village. Summoning a small flicker butterfly, and muttering a quiet command, you scouted through the creature’s eyes. No knights in armour. No bishops in crimson. Just tired farmers and scared moms stroking their kids to sleep. You let out a breath. Safe—for the time being. You pulled up the hood of your cloak and walked onto the rutted dirt path that led to the outside of the settlement.

The name Orlin was hardly discernible under layers of peeling paint on a signpost that stood unevenly in the ground. your legs finally buckled under you as you staggered into the tiny area, dispersing your lunar moths in confusion before collapsing close to the well.

Figures approached from the shadows of a nearby hut. With expressions marked with concern rather than condemnation, the locals rushed to your rescue. Although the woman in front of them was a faint shadow of the radiant beauty portrayed in the Church's propaganda, they were familiar with your—or more accurately, the legend of the Moonlit Saintess. With a gentle touch and calming voices, they assisted you in standing up. 

An elderly woman, stooped by age, had piercing, astute eyes that shone in the low light. "You are The Saintess," the woman whispered. "The target of their hunt." You paused. "Why aren't you afraid if you know that?" The female snorted. "Because I am aware of the distinction between a miracle and a monster."  A pause. Then, the old woman beckoned you forward. “Come. You’ll freeze standing out here.” You followed your without protest. 

Sprigs of rosemary, bundles of lavender, and clusters of dried red peppers were among the dried herbs that hung from the ceiling of the woman's modest and unadorned home. Their earthy aromas blended with the aroma of the simmering soup. 

Warm, dancing light filled the area as a fireplace's flickering shadows painted the walls. Over the flames, a boiling pot of soup simmered softly, adding warmth and the aroma of rosemary and—was it thyme? Your hair fell over your shoulders as you drew back your hood. 

Now sitting in a battered wooden chair across from you, the woman examined your face with a silent awe. She pointed towards a stool. "Take a seat. You must be exhausted. You lamented, "The journey was… long," as you sank upon the stool. You felt heavier than you had in years, and your muscles hurt from the curse's aftereffects.

The woman whispered, "I saw what you did for that boy in the woods," in a forceful yet gentle manner. "Saved his life." The woman handed You a rough clay cup, which your fingers curled around. The stew had a deep, flavourful, and delectable aroma. You sipped a little, feeling the warmth creep through your chilly body. "And now the Church wants mine in return."

The sound of the old woman's sigh was like the rustle of dried leaves in the wind. "That’s how it always is, isn’t it? They preach mercy, then spill blood in the name of it." The broth had a rich, cosy brown colour.

With a voice hardly audible above a whisper, You confessed, "They call me a youretic. I've dedicated my life to helping others, helping those in need, and asking for nothing in return. But I turned into a witch the instant I questioned them.”

The elderly woman shook your head and gave a dry, raspy laugh. "Child, faith is a curious thing. It ought to be about hope. Love. However, it turns into a weapon in the wrong hands. your piercingly keen eyes were fixed on You.  "Like any weapon, it can be used for good… or ill."

You looked up at your, looking for anything, maybe direction. Assurance, the woman covered your hand with a wrinkled one.  your touch was unexpectedly powerful. "There is still an option for you. You can either stand and battle or run endlessly while constantly watching your back.” You stiffened. "You think I should become the very thing they fear? To battle monsters, I need to turn into a monster.”  The idea chilled you to the bone.  Was there no other option?

"I believe you should choose who you are before they choose for you," the woman stated cautiously. You hesitated, your eyes darting to the flames. "The choice… it is yours alone." The sound of the flames crackling between them echoed You's chaos. You closed your eyes and visualised the villagers' trust, friendliness, and faces. Then you saw all of the people the church had treated wrong, twisted in agony as they were consumed by the flames. You thought ferociously, "Never again,"

A/N:

- this is my first time writing alucard so yeah. - my hyperfixation got the best of me. enjoy i guess - This story is based on the show, not the games (haven't played, yes im a fake fan)

so anyways hope u enjoy it and feedbacks are appreciated also im really rusty when it comes to writing so yeah bye 𐦍☾

[theprinceofliones]

Alternate universe where Nakaba goes down the route of Tristan being the main character but at the cost of Meliodas and Elizabeth being killed in the first chapter.

Tristan is raised deep within Benwick, hidden from Arthur and Camelot after he attacked and took over Liones. He nearly had full control of the continent, if it wasn't for the last of the Seven Deadly Sins coming together to make a safe haven deep within the Fairy King's Forest and Benwick where all races could come to hide and be safe from Arthur's genocide.

Ban and Elaine make good on Meliodas and Elizabeth's final wish, to protect their son with their lives and raise him where they cannot. They raise Tristan alongside Lancelot and the boys are closer than any single person Ban and Elaine have ever met. Not even a week apart in age, the two might as well be a single soul in two different bodies with how close they always are with one another, how protective and special they are to one another. From a young age, Lancelot seemed to take on a role of 'protector' for Tristan, and Tristan in turn took on a role of 'provider', always by one another's side and lifting each other up.

"I will see the day that Tristan ascends the throne," Lancelot tells his father one day, when he's hardly four and ten. He had been looking off into the horizon, the sun just peeking over it as the moon rose high in the sky, as he gazed out towards the direction of Liones.

Ban turned to him, surprised and caught off guard by his son's proclamation and Lancelot turned back to him, determination and vengeance in his eyes.

"I'll be there to see it, dad. I'll be there to seat him upon it and Arthur Pendragon will be dead."

Ban had seen the very same bloodlust in his son's eyes that he had in his own. An identical refractation of light in his orbs, a determination and perseverance that would never fade. He had the same anger that his father had, the same desire for vengeance and revenge that Ban had; to avenge his best friend and the princess that helped give him his happy ending, however fractured it may now be.

Ban and Elaine never wanted Lancelot and Tristan to grow up in the shadows of all their parents' mistakes. They never wanted the two of them to feel like they had to grow up and fight the battles their parents couldn't win. That was why they stayed hidden, why they stayed safe, took the cowards way out.

But, after Lancelot promises this to his father, swears it underneath the setting sun and rising moon, Ban thinks it might be too late to change their fates.

The boys are on the cusp of adulthood, both of them six and ten, when Arthur attacks The Fairy King's Forest and Ban and Elaine rush to aide King and Diane in protecting their home. Tristan and Lancelot are hidden within Benwick still, and Ban /commands/ that the boys stay behind, to not follow them. Of course, Tristan and Lancelot are the son's of Meliodas the Dragon Sin of Wrath and Ban the Fox Sin of Greed, they were never going to stay put.

Tristan Liones is revealed to be alive, after nearly two decades of searching, Arthur Pendragon finally has confirmation that the son of his greatest enemies lives, and it's then that Arthur knows that this 'war' was far from over, and that to end the Four Knights prophecy, he must kill the one and only Nephilim, to rid the world of a child that was the product of the greatest sin ever committed between two races; a child born of dark and light, a child doused in chaos.

Ban the Fox Sin of Greed is killed in the battle for the Fairy King's Forest and Arthur officially manages to take it over for himself after nearly twenty long years of fighting for the territory. Those who survived were spread all over the continent and Arthur sends his knights to kill them all. But, no one can find Lancelot of Benwick and Tristan Liones, they seemed to have disappeared completely, wiped off the map. If only it was that simple.

Two years later, sightings of a boy with silver hair and mismatched eyes makes it's way to Arthur's ears, and he himself leaves Liones to the spot where the sighting was made. In the ruins of the Fairy's Kings Forest on top of the Fairy Tree.

Arthur floats atop of the dismembered trunk and looks ahead to find the two boys he had been searching for all this time standing right in front of him, merely a dozen feet away.

"So," Arthur begins, grinning wide. "You two are alive. How wonderful."

They look aged, no doubt from hiding for so long. Lancelot's hair is spiked, just like his father's had been, and his stance is rigid, body shaped into strong muscles that could no doubt destroy mountains.

The long lost Prince of Liones is similar, his hair is long and braided, just as Queen Elizabeth's had been, and his mismatched eyes are hardened with years of rage and hatred. But, the thing that Arthur takes notice of is the earring on his left ear, the same earring that Queen Elizabeth and the members of the true royal family had worn. Somehow, someway, the flimsy piece of jewelry had survived, and Tristan was wearing it.

"I assume you are not here to surrender?" Arthur asks cheekily with a tilt of his head. "Have you come to die fighting me?"

"Arthur Pendragon," Lancelot of Benwick begins, side by side with Tristan. "Usurper, we tell you this now as to give you a warning; I'm going to rip you from the throne that rightfully belongs to Tristan Liones, Crown Prince of Britannia, and send you to hell."

Arthur blinks, somewhat taken aback before he laughs.

"And how exactly," He begins, taking a step forward, eyes darkening. "Do you plan to do that, little boy?"

Lancelot tilts his head. "Why ruin all the fun by telling you?"

Arthur just chuckles and shakes his head. "Foolish children," He says mockingly. "Guided by revenge, arrogance, and the false confidence of youth."

"So, same as you?" Lancelot quips back and it isn't until Tristan takes a step forward does the boy silence himself.

Arthur hums, taking note. Lancelot was Tristan's sword and shield, it seemed. The boys seemed overly protective of one another, irreversibly tied in ways that seemed to go beyond normality. It would almost be sweet, if their story wasn't destined to end in tragedy.

Tristan Liones walks up to him, until they're a mere five feet away from one another, if that, and Tristan stares him down like predator do prey. Arthur stares back, smiling.

"I'm going to sit my mother's throne," Tristan tells him, unblinkingly. "And you...you will be dead."

Arthur's smile widens. "Such confidence."

"The four races declare war on you, Arthur Pendragon," Tristan continues, as if he didn't hear him. "The Giants, Fairies, Goddesses, and Demons are coming for you. They are working together, coming to join as one to fight a common enemy, and do you know /why?/"

Tristan's eyes narrow and they turn gold.

"Because I am the true heir to the throne, because they believe in me, because they want to see you /dead/," He says, sharp tongued, just as his father was. "The four races have never come together before, they have never once agreed to peace terms or gone to truly help one another, not since the second Holy War, but they will for /me/."

Tristan's goddess wings flap wide and his eyes glow gold.

"I will ascend the throne you stole from me," He says, voice laced with a promise. "I will right the wrongs you've committed, and I will save this country. You can either live in my new world, or you can /die/ in your old one. Either way, I will see to it that you face justice for the genocide you're determined to carry out."

Then, he turns around and walks over to the edge of the tree's cut trunk, staring out at the destroyed and ruined forest below with Lancelot by his side, glaring back at Arthur.

Tristan turns back to him and their eyes meet.

"I do all of this...in the name of the parents you took from me."

Arthur stays there at the top of the destroyed tree long after they are gone and he stares at the spot they stood.

It isn't long until his fellow Chaos Knights come to him, racing towards him with worry, as he seemingly had been gone for nearly a full day. Night, after all, was approaching.

"My liege," One of them gasps out. "Are you alr---"

Arthur begins to laugh.

They all rear back, shocked as he laughs and laughs more, caught off guard and it isn't until Arthur composes himself and sighs do they seem to relax just the slightest.

"War, huh?" He says to himself absentmindedly as he grins wide. "Yes. I think I can handle that."

Lancelot of Benwick and Tristan Liones were destined to die just as their parents did; alone, broken, and ultimately defeated, for there was no other way for this story to end, and he would show them.

He would show them all.

[book--brackets]

Summaries under the cut

Tiffany Aching by Terry Pratchett

Armed only with a frying pan and her common sense, Tiffany Aching, a young witch-to-be, is all that stands between the monsters of Fairyland and the warm, green Chalk country that is her home. Forced into Fairyland to seek her kidnapped brother, Tiffany allies herself with the Chalk's local Nac Mac Feegle - aka the Wee Free Men - a clan of sheep-stealing, sword-wielding, six-inch-high blue men who are as fierce as they are funny. Together they battle through an eerie and ever-shifting landscape, fighting brutal flying fairies, dream-spinning dromes, and grimhounds - black dogs with eyes of fire and teeth of razors - before ultimately confronting the Queen of the Elves, absolute ruler of a world in which reality intertwines with nightmare. And in the final showdown, Tiffany must face her cruel power alone...

When You Reach Me by Rebecca Stead

Miranda is an ordinary sixth grader, until she starts receiving mysterious messages from somebody who knows all about her, including things that have not even happened yet. Each message brings her closer to believing that only she can prevent a tragic death. Until the final note makes her think she’s too late.

The Swiss Family Robinson by Johann David Wyss

Swept off course by a raging storm, a Swiss pastor, his wife, and their four young sons are shipwrecked on an uncharted tropical island. Thus begins the classic story of survival and adventure that has fired the imaginations of readers since it first appeared in 1812. With optimism and boundless enthusiasm, the Robinson family undertakes the extraordinary task of constructing a home for themselves and exploring the primitive island filled with strange and beautiful creatures and exotic fruits and plants. Rich in action and suspense, The Swiss Family Robinson  is an exhilarating novel takes us to a faraway place of danger and beauty, where the courageous Robinson family embarks on a thrilling new life of adventure and discovery.

The Indian in the Cupboard by Lynne Reid Banks

At first, Omri is unimpressed with the plastic Indian toy he is given for his birthday. But when he puts it in his old cupboard and turns the key, something extraordinary happens that will change Omri's life for ever.

For Little Bear, the Iroquois Indian brave, comes to life...

The Belgariad by David Eddings

Myths tell of the ancient wars of Gods and men, and a powerful object - the Orb - that ended the bloodshed. As long as it was held by the line of Riva, it would assure the peace.

But a dark force has stolen the Orb, and the prophecies tell of war.

Young farm boy Garion knows nothing of myth or fate. But then the mysterious Old Storyteller visits his aunt, and they embark on a sudden journey. Pursued by evil forces, with only a small band of companions they can trust, Garion begins to doubt all he thought he knew...

I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith

Through six turbulent months of 1934, 17-year-old Cassandra Mortmain keeps a journal, filling three notebooks with sharply funny yet poignant entries about her home, a ruined Suffolk castle, and her eccentric and penniless family. By the time the last diary shuts, there have been great changes in the Mortmain household, not the least of which is that Cassandra is deeply, hopelessly, in love.

The Borrowers by Mary Norton

Beneath the kitchen floor is the world of the Borrowers -- Pod and Homily Clock and their daughter, Arrietty. In their tiny home, matchboxes double as roomy dressers and postage stamps hang on the walls like paintings. Whatever the Clocks need they simply "borrow" from the "human beans" who live above them. It's a comfortable life, but boring if you're a kid. Only Pod is allowed to venture into the house above, because the danger of being seen by a human is too great. Borrowers who are seen by humans are never seen again. Yet Arrietty won't listen. There is a human boy up there, and Arrietty is desperate for a friend.

Esperanza Rising by Pam Munoz Ryan

Esperanza thought she'd always live with her family on their ranch in Mexico--she'd always have fancy dresses, a beautiful home, and servants. But a sudden tragedy forces Esperanza and Mama to flee to California during the Great Depression, and to settle in a camp for Mexican farm workers. Esperanza isn't ready for the hard labor, financial struggles, or lack of acceptance she now faces. When their new life is threatened, Esperanza must find a way to rise above her difficult circumstances--Mama's life, and her own, depend on it.

The Thief Lord by Cornelia Funke

Two orphaned children are on the run, hiding among the crumbling canals and misty alleyways of the city of Venice.

Befriended by a gang of street children and their mysterious leader, the Thief Lord, they shelter in an old, disused cinema. On their trail is a bungling detective, obsessed with disguises and the health of his pet tortoises. But a greater threat to the boys' new-found freedom is something from a forgotten past – a beautiful magical treasure with the power to spin time itself.

Dork Diaries by Renee Russel

Nikki Maxwell is not popular, in fact Nikki Maxwell is the opposite of popular; she's a total dork! But Nikki's hoping that by moving to a new school she might just stand a chance of making some friends and leaving her old lame-ways in the past. But life is never that simple... Follow Nikki's life through sketches, doodles and diary entries as she starts her new school, battles with her mum for an iPhone and meets her arch-nemisis, the school's queen bee, Mackenzie.

[youryurigoddess]

Maggie’s pendants and good omens

Yes, you’ve read it right. This post is going to deal with some literal good omens, not just title drop! But first things first, let’s take a closer look at the topic of this analysis.

A toucan

The top necklace is a lovely design involving a crowned toucan — believed to be a messenger of gods able to travel between the spiritual and the physical world, often associated with rain and rainbow (a Christian symbol of divine love, grace, and mercy, a reminder of the covenant between God and humanity to spare the latter from future trials like the Flood) — encircled by a gold band (a symbol of infinity, eternal love and promise) spun by a small butterfly (a symbol of transformation, hope, and rebirth). All three symbols combined seem to deliver a divine message of hope for rebirth, possibly resurrection, and the eternal life. Very fitting in the context of the Second Coming.

The fact that toucans were revered by the native South Americans as rainbringers strengthens the symbolic meaning of another type of bird we can spot on Maggie’s clothes in the very first episode, as her character introduction — a swallow. Swallows flying low are also believed to be harbingers of rain and bad weather. If you see one close to Earth or a building, it means that there’s a storm — or a certain biblical tempest — on the horizon.

In Ancient Greece and Rome swallows were representing Aphrodite, goddess of love. In Christianity they were considered to be of God and symbolized hope, awakening, and revival of life as messengers of spring and protectors from winter colds. Also helped Jesus on the Cross — according to a Christian legend, a group of swallows was supposed to take out the thorns from the Crown of Thorns and alleviate His Passion on the Cross. Humans banding together in the name of good have been a big theme in the series ever since The Them made an appearance, and from what we already know about the unpublished Good Omens sequel, we can assume that Jesus is going to take the spotlight in the upcoming season.

Maggie definitely attracts sudden inexplicable weather changes, like a thunderstorm with weirdly localized lightning strikes or a sudden downpour. And we’re still waiting for some vavooming (and the following happy ending) to happen in S3.

A heart with an eye

Now, the more nuanced clue hidden in the bottom necklace. I know that some of us were trying to tackle the concept of Maggie’s eye in a heart pendant suggesting her Masonic connotations, but this symbol (or the Eye of Providence in general) isn’t strictly Masonic, it isn’t even limited only to Judeo-Christian art. And while it is used a lot in Christian iconography, we should focus on a very specific example of it already referenced in the show.

Buckle up, we’re making a parachute dive into S1.

It seems like our old friend, Agnes Nutter, still has our backs.

Prophecy 4020:

Let the wheel of fate turne, let harts enjoin, there are othere fyres than mine; when the whirl wynd whirls, reach oute one to another.

If you look closely at the bottom right corner of this frame, you will see that as an illustration for the above prophecy the production team chose a 1611 engraving titled The Minde should have a fixed Eye On Objects, that are plac’d on High first found in Gabriel Rollenhagen’s Nucleus emblematum selectissimorum.

In 1635 it was published in A Collection of Emblemes, Ancient and Moderne Quickened With Metrical Illustrations, both Morall and Divine, Etc by George Wither with the accompanying hymn:

A Heart, which bore the figure of an Eye

Wide open to the Sunne; by some, was us'd,

When in an Emblem, they would signifie

A Minde, which on Celestiall Matters mus'd:

Implying, by the same, that there is nought

Which in this lower Orbe, our Eyes can see,

So fit an Object for a manly thought,

As those things, which in Heav'n above us be.

God, gave Mankinde (above all other Creatures)

A lovely Forme, and upward-looking Eye,

(Among the rest of his peculiar Features)

That he might lift his Countenance on high:

And (having view'd the Beauty, which appeares

Within the outward Sights circumference)

That he might elevate above the Sphæres,

The piercing Eye, of his Intelligence.

Then, higher, and still higher strive to raise

His Contemplations Eyes, till they ascend

To gaine a glimpse of those eternall Rayes,

To which all undepraved Spirits tend.

For, 'tis the proper nature of the Minde

(Till fleshly Thoughts corrupt it) to despise

Those Lusts whereto the Body stands inclin'd;

And labour alwayes, upward to arise.

Some, therefore, thought those Goblins which appeare

To haunt old Graves and Tombes, are Soules of such,

Who to these loathsome places doomed were,

Because, they doted on the Flesh too much.

But, sure we are, well-minded Men shall goe

To live above, when others bide below.

And hey, guess what 4020, i.e., the number of the prophecy, symbolizes in Strong’s Concordance? Periergazomai, a Greek word meaning “to waste one's labor about something” — to meddle, going beyond proper boundaries (where a person doesn't belong); to fixate on what others are doing, instead of doing what the person himself is supposed to do.

It appears only once in the Bible:

2 Thessalonians 3:11: We hear that some among you are idle and disruptive. They are not busy; they are busybodies. Such people we command and urge in the Lord Jesus Christ to settle down and earn the food they eat. And as for you, brothers and sisters, never tire of doing what is good.

To make things slightly more interesting, in the Hebrew version of Strong’s Concordance 4020 has another meaning — migbaloth, meaning “twisted things, i.e. cords”. Which doesn’t make much sense until we read the actual passage:

Exodus 28:24 and two chains of pure gold, twisted like cords; and you shall attach the corded chains to the settings.

And compare it to the most recent post on the topic published directly by Word of God:

What if all these clues didn’t apply to Maggie and Nina, but Aziraphale and Crowley instead? What if Maggie served as a messenger — consciously or not — just like the toucan, delivering the prophecy to those who need it most?

“When the tempest comes and darkness and great storms, and the dead will leave their graves and walk the Earth once more and there will be great lamentations for the end is near, don’t lose hope, hold hands and look up.”

Basically what Aziraphale and Crowley already did when they performed the 25 Lazarii miracle, only with no interference from Gabriel this time around.

And, if both Strong’s Concordance and Maggie’s personal addition to her second pendant are to be believed, with a wedding band somehow involved in the process.

[amity206]

Concept Art from Steam Next Fest!

These are the pictures released! Under the cut, I’ll be adding them again with their individual captions!

“Isle of Dawn concept. This area underwent numerous changes over time, but this was one early idea.”

“Sketches from brainstorms for the Cave of Prophecies. This location opened in Isle of Dawn in a past Season, but the Prophecy Guide still invites courageous Sky kids to complete the trials that await there.”

“Sky children meet Elders from each realm. Here, four of them meet the Prairie Elder and a flock of butterflies.”

“Hidden Forest is known for its rain, but here and there the sun shines through.”

“An idea for Valley of Triumph, with two gates offering different routes to players who pass through them.”

“Before the Dark Crabs took their final shape, they had many forms in different concepts.”

“In a game called “Sky,” it’s probably no surprise that some of our favorite concept art to share is pictures of Sky kids flying through the clouds…”

“…Though there are some areas where that flight is a serious challenge.”

“A sketch of several ideas related to Spirits who were introduced in Season of Lightseekers. Though the final designs look rather different, a hat and a couple of the capes ultimately kept their bioluminescent, orb-shaped tassels.”

“As Sky children travel through the kingdom’s ruins, these objects are only some of the things that they must wonder about.”

[billie-black]

Thread of odd connections between Ikora, Elsie and Eris

I was scrolling through concept art when I noticed that, despite not being so in-game, The Stranger's rifle is Branded as a Cassoid weapon. This wouldn't mean much, bungie tends to use decals at random, except-

The curse of osiris variant, The Machina Dei 4, is also branded with a slightly altered version of the Cassoid logo, which I think proves that it has been upgraded with components from the foundry.

But let's put a pin on that and talk about another Cassoid weapon, The Invective shotgun, Ikora's signature weapon. The Invective has an ornament called Iconoclast, a word which here means "Destroyer of images used in religious worship." This nomenclature is very similar to-

The Vex Mythoclast, a weapon which, thanks to its sister weapon, The Worldline Zero (which coincidentally also has a prophecy variant), we know to be made by Elsie Bray. Canonically, we earn the Mythoclast as part of-

the "Not forged in light" quest, which ends with Elsie gifting us the No time to explain. A weapon which eventually ends back up in her hands and she gifts to us again earlier in the timeline as-

The stranger's rifle, which hangs around until it becomes the Machina Dei 4 (later Adhortative). And the prophecy attached to the Machina Dei 4 desribes Eris Morn and the events of Shadowkeep, when Eris discovers stasis and starts using the darkness.

A charnel but effulgent orb.

beacon in a loathsome dark.

Fêted, fetid corpses rise.

a too-long-absent gibbous spark.

Now, it's generally accepted that No time to explain (and all it's variants by proxy) was created at some future point in a distant timeline, this is incorrect. Ghost specifically points out that "parts" of it shouldn't exist, because the rifle itself is a common suros frame.

Going back to The Invective, you're probably more familiar with its legendary sister, The Comedian, and its D2 counterpart, Deadpan Delivery. The Comedian's flavor text reads "A. A ha. A ha ha ha. A ha ha ha ha ha ha ha" In D1 the joke wasn't really clear, but with the addition of a lore tab in D2, the joke has become the vanguard's falling victim to a hive god's deceit. Now, let's take a little trip to The dark future.

In The dark future, Beyond light never happened, Eramis was allowed to grow her armies and master stasis, which led to a massive attack on the city by Cabal remnants, Savathûn, and the glorious House Salvation, all masterminded by Eris Morn, who up to that point was believed to be an ally, but had been corrupted by stasis and the darkness.

Coming back to our timeline, let's look at differences between our case exotics and their variants. Elsie's rifle has undergone many more modifications than Invective. Matter of fact, Invective has barely undergone any changes from its default. It's painted red, AND It has tape wrapped the handle and the grip, just like No time to explain. (I know I'm talking about grip tape right now but please don't go, it gets better, I promise)

It's a weak link, many weapons have grip tape, but I think many of these small details add up and point to The Iconoclast being one of Elsie's gifts. Let's review the similarities between Iconoclast and other gifts from Elsie.

>It's sourced from one of the city foundries and later received Cassoid upgrades (Invective and it's variants are nadir products)

>It has grip tape where the original does not.

>Mythoclast and Iconoclast are very similar terms and could point to a connection.

>It has a perpetual ammo function, like No time to explain and The Mythoclast.

But we should also look at Iconoclast within it's own context. Invective being her weapon, what does it mean for Ikora? She's never been been known to combat or really oppose any sort of religion, at least that I can find. And let's make it clear, the gun is not the Iconoclast. Just like the Mythoclast is not The Mythoclast. The weapons, in this case, are named for the wielder. You kill Atheon and so you become the Mythoclast, the gun is more of symbol. So, what religious figure is Ikora supposed to kill in order to become the Iconoclast?

Well, just this season, the hive have come out with a brand spanking new god, one very close to Ikora. Now I don't think Ikora is going to kill Eris. Eris would need to do something completely heinous for her to even consider that. Like, idk, bombarding the last city with House Salvation and the shadow legion... i. e., what happens in the dark timeline.

Look, I really don't believe Eris is going to turn evil all the sudden, that would be character assasination of the highest magnitude. But from Ikora's point of view? She has a supposed time traveller yelling at her that she's letting everything go sideways.

So my theory is that Elsie took Ikora's Invective from some other failed timeline (possibly the one where they smooch) and gave it to Ikora as the Iconoclast, along with the idea that alternate Ikora ruined everything because she failed to act and put Eris down when she could.

And this is where Deadpan Delivery comes in. You see, Ikora doesn't use invective anymore, and she doesn't use the Comedian. She exclusively wields Deadpan Delivery. Now, I know this was probably just the animators being faithful to her character, seeing how she prefers shotguns-

But the retroactive additions to the Comedian's lore, outside my crazed theories, implies a statement from Ikora. The Comedian's joke is the vanguard falling victim to a hive god's deceit, and in the dark timeline that god, the Savathûn figure, is Eris morn. And so-

By maining Deadpan delivery Ikora is subtextually saying "It's not funny. I'm not laughing. I don't subscribe to the narrative put forward by the comedian or Elsie. I trust Eris". And by rejecting the Comedian she's additionally disavowing it's older sister, The Invective, which is a symbol of the gung ho attitude which defined her in her youth. And wether my Iconoclast theory is correct or not, we can definitively say: Ikora is against what it represents , she is a guardian, and she will make a new fate no matter what.

[catcherwrites]

TDP S7E9 Rewatch (feat. my commentary)

Last one for the road, and it’s another long one!

Kosmo’s prophecy is so creepy, I love it

Do you think when our heroes got back to Katolis and explained everything to Aanya she had a massive “I told you so” moment with Ezran about Aaravos baiting him?

If I remember correctly, it’s canon that Avizandum could travel through lightning bolts, so it makes sense that Zym can also do that. I just wish it’d been hinted earlier in the show itself. I’m sure many people are confused as to how Zym suddenly gained the power to transport himself halfway across the continent

Fun fact, I also headcanon this as the moment Zym unlocked his ability to speak (he just had more important things to worry about than choosing his first words)

When I was first watching this, I kept saying “just do it, come onnnn, no more chit-chat, time to save the world!” It’s safe to say my feelings haven’t changed much since then.

Claudia the last two episodes: do a cool magic trick to stop someone from hurting Aaravos, then get hit out of the sky and knocked unconscious

This was such a powerful moment for Rayla and Callum, you can see how heartbroken they are that the other is being forced to sacrifice their principles to save the world

Aaravos is rightfully smug. He knows that he’ll find a way out. It just takes time – time that he has in abundance and the heroes have in short supply

Hey Sparklepuff! Your role in S7 was limited to this one thing and your depth exists primarily in subtext, but I’m glad you’re here sweetheart

A minor change I’d make to this scene, is that I’d show Avizandum actively fighting the control Aaravos has on him (even if it’s just in the background). I’d show that Zubeia’s words had at least some effect on him before we get that out-of-nowhere attack

Callum fails to complete the spell, but the exertion of attempting it is what gave him that streak of white. I actually kinda like that! We saw that successfully coining Kpp’Ar completely altered Viren’s features, so it makes sense that a dark magic spell that potent would still alter you, even when it’s unfinished

Aaravos knows he’s going to die, so he sends Claudia away to avoid the nova. It’s sort of sweet…in a deeply toxic way?

Pleasantly surprised that Stella can manipulate portals she didn’t make herself. I hope we see that again later

Ah the infamous “I got you” “I know” Yeah, well I know what you are

From the waist up Aaravos getting dragged into the air looks really good…the waist down looks a little goofy. Look at how he’s kicking his legs like a toddler in swimming lessons!

I wish there’d been some verbal communication between the dragons? I don’t know, maybe Zubeia yelling “We need to get higher up, further away, my love. Domina! Shield them!” It’d go a long way to help explain what’s going on without breaking the tension of the scene

Crazy that they just had to drop the staff to destroy the orb. Do you think it would’ve exploded in one minute if Aaravos hadn’t died and exploded everything anyway?

Soren saying “I don’t know…” is gut wrenching (because it’s true, he doesn’t know if he could go through with it), and Claudia deciding not to go through with killing him either because “I’m still nice!” is equally as gut wrenching

Domina! You finally spoke!

Oh, I could spot Aaravos crying as he died, that’s cool! I didn’t notice that before

I loved the nova. The music was great, the emotions were fraught, the sacrifices were satisfying, the consequences are real and significant

Putting the archdragons memorial in the Valley of Graves is a wonderful nod to the initial conflict of S4, complete with Corvus performing on his cello

Broyals! My boys are repairing their relationship! Good for them!

I recognised Dante’s voice immediately my first watch through, and I’m not gonna lie. I had to pause the show and walk a lap of my entire home just to process it. I’m equally annoyed (in a good way) and ecstatic that they got Dante of all people to voice Zym

One last case of Sorvus banter for the road

Quickfire notes on the city ceremony: Gus is a fitting name for the big mushroom, the Crow Lord is BEAUTIFUL, there are also so many other very beautifully painted background characters that I desperately want a dating sim of, Lujanne’s on her feet again, Miyana has twins (good for her), Nyx and Villads are still bickering, Kosmo and Astrid were reunited at some point, and Evrkynd is the corniest name ever (are they going for ‘every kind’ or ‘forever kind’?)

Oh boy Terry and Soren with their shared Claudia trauma

I don’t know if it’s an animation error or a purposeful decision, but Claudia’s hair is back to being 1/4 black

Runaan’s speech is incredible and Jonathan’s performance was spectacular. It’s the summation of so many arcs on so many levels: Runaan himself, but also the Moonfam and Xadia as a whole. Each character we see reacts to what Runaan says differently in ways that make sense for them!

“I don’t know how, but I have to try” Sasha delivered that line wonderfully, filled with so much emotion. If I weren’t already tearing up from Runaan’s speech, I would be now

Ezran and Rayla! My children are also repairing their relationship! Good for them!

Oh boy…the Harrow thing. I have thoughts, but I’ll get into them at the end. For now, all I’ll say is the first time I watched S7, I had to take another lap around the house to process this revelation too

Pyrrah getting her own bowl of coffee was so cute

THE CUBE THE CUBE THE FREAKING CUBE…I’m normal I swear, it’s just we haven’t seen anything of it this entire season

This little present Callum orchestrated for Rayla is so sweet it’s rotting my teeth

I’m paused on the flickering of the Leola’s Last Wish star just before it turns into her constellation. I know what’s coming, I almost cried the first time and I’m pretty sure it’ll happen this time too.

Yep. I’m tearing up again.

Leola’s Last Wish is so, so, so important. It’s the core of the whole show. For better or worse, almost everything happened the way it did because of love. Leola with Aaravos, Callum and Ezran with Damian, Sarai and Harrow, Claudia and Soren with Viren and Lissa, Rayla with Runaan, Ethari, Tiadrin and Lain, Zym with Zubeia and Avizandum. And that’s just the parent-child relationships! There’s also love between siblings, friends, and romantic partners! Leola wishes more than anything that you know you’re loved, and that message hits hard for a lot of people regardless of their age.

It's not very often that a kids show ends like this. Normally there’s a joyful swelling in the orchestration, a big fireworks spectacular, a fun dance or party, or a final scene that entices you to want more (looking at you, S3). But this is soft, quiet, and intimate. I love this ending.

Overall thoughts:

This episode has so much that I adore. It’s definitely one of my favourites, although I mightn’t classify it as a ‘rewatch’ episode because of how emotionally fraught it continues to make me. The animation is consistent, the emotional beats hit hard, and the show tries its best to wrap up as many character arcs as it can in under 30 minutes. That said, it leaves a lot of threads hanging in a way that bothers me slightly because of how uncertain TDP’s future is.

The biggest one for me is by far, Harrow. I wish we’d been given more of a set-up for that reveal in the last two seasons (I think S5 was the last time I gave Pip a second thought). Surely we could’ve had a line from Viren in S6 where he says to Soren “I have no right to ask this of you, but please tell me when King Ezran returns. I have one last confession to make.” Because if he swapped Harrow and Pip, surely he’d try to tell someone that the King isn’t dead when he returned to Katolis for punishment?

More than anything, I’m intrigued by what the plan is for Arc 3. The world has been irrevocably changed by events from the last two and a half years. Peace has been restored, Katolis castle is burned to the ground, a new city-state is being built on the border, all the archdragons are dead besides Zym (who is now King?), Claudia escaped, and everyone is preparing for Aaravos’ return. And that’s not even getting started on what could happen in the timeskip between S7 and S8!

With all that being said, thank you so much to the creative team behind The Dragon Prince. This journey has been a wild ride, and I hope you enjoyed making the show as much as I loved watching it. There was incredible animation, incredible music, incredible writing, and incredible acting; and I wish all of you the very best in your other endeavours (until Arc 3 is announced please please pretty please Netflix).

[homestuckreplay]

check out my 13-monitor gaming setup

(page 872-876)

Bad news. Everyone’s IP address and physical location are being tracked by an all powerful/evil gaming corporation who are using it to send meteors down to our houses for the crime of gaming. There’s a lot to be said about the capacity for surveillance that all the Skaian technology has, and the ways these kids have been monitored without even knowing it. There are SO MANY meteors on this screen, meaning a LOT of people are playing this game. But there are more meteors than games, suggesting that Sburb was built around the pre-existing meteors – presumably so some people could be saved from this apocalypse, I don’t think it is so kind as wanting everyone to have a great final day on Earth.

The physical setup of the lab terminal is similar to those in WV’s bunker – industrial pipes feeding soulless gray screens where every pixel is visible – but Rose’s has a lot more screens, some just displaying spirographs. Comparing page 874 with 733, both stations feature coordinates, both have the same transparent projection of the world map on the left, and both have similar diagrams on the right of small orbs radiating from a central orb. I theorized this as the Skaian cosmology as WV’s screen features four surrounding orbs, like the four planets they drew on the walls – in the lab, there are eight surrounding orbs. It’s interesting that there’s a discrepancy between the terminals – is there some information, some secret planets, hidden from WV that are available to the lab operators?

This lab is monitoring sessions, but its own meteor is already close to impact, so the lab isn’t necessary for the sessions to continue. Some setup work was done here and now Skaia is tidying up after itself with a meteor unrelated to Rose’s house/Sburb session. Speaking of which, not all meteors have sessions, but do they all have potential sessions? The tiny meteorites in the forest probably aren’t, unless the bugs are playing Sburb. So is this conclusive proof that Rose will play Sburb, because she has a session meteor, and this will definitely happen no matter what? Or is it just prophesized that she will play (by at least Nanna and Jade) but that prophecy could still be undercut? Rose understandably isn’t trying to change this prophecy, but it is an important distinction in terms of free will.

I’m gonna take a wild guess and say that the two biggest meteors correspond to Dave and Jade’s locations. We know from previous coordinates that Jade lives in the southwest Pacific, and the meteor there has a while before touchdown – it may even be the last to fall. The presumably first Skaian meteor also fell there, and led to construction of the frog statue (p.757) and established Skaia’s power on Earth, so it’d make sense that the final meteor would be cleaning up its own mess. The second biggest meteor has no coordinates, but looks like west Texas geographically, a place Dave could reasonably live. There’s always room for a fakeout, but so far every story beat (except within media, like the Midnight Crew) has taken place in one of the four kids’ locations, so it’s a fair bet.

Hey, what’s up with the pink teapot and teacups in this lab? This inclusion is such bait for the adventure game/user command format of Homestuck. Such an anomalous item is just begging for someone to click on it and try to interact. Like so.

> Rose: See if the tea in the pot is still hot.

[dailycharacteroption]

Sleep Researcher (Starfinder Archetype)

(art by Sady Fofana on Artstation)

In a world of science, magic, and wild adventure, the humble job of a sleep researcher seems like it would be an unlikely pick for anyone seeking to venture out into the unknown and do heroic stuff…

That is until you remember that dreams are not merely a product of the mind like they are in the real world, and that the collective subconcious gives rise to the Dimension of Dreams, which deities such as Desna (who many agree is quite important in a spacefaring science fantasy game, what with the whole divine domain over the stars and whatnot) hold sway over. While venturing into the Dimension of Dreams may be something that requires a little Pathfinder to Starfinder conversion or homebrew to achieve, those that seek to understand the sleeping mind at least pay her homage, if not view their study as a way of communing with her.

Since this is a Starfinder archetype though, it will quickly become clear that different researchers will go about their work in different ways based on their background and of course their adventuring class. Those of a technological bent will likely focus on scientific solutions, brain analysis, mind-altering pharmaceuticals, and so on. Those of a more magical bent will instead focus on mystic methods to understanding the sleep patterns and dreams of those under their care.

Of course, that still leaves the question of why these neuroscientists go adventuring, and that can vary between them treat the subject as a hobby, or as a former vocation they semi-retired from to become adventurers. Anything you can imagine can be the reason these two worlds overlap, but as we’ll soon see, they can still prove quite useful in their own way.

Whether it be by occult hypnotism, special drug cocktails, or some other method, these doctors have developed a surefire method to lulling multiple creatures to sleep at once. It doesn’t work in combat, but it can be useful for slipping past guards or getting out of situations that aren’t a fight yet but might become one.

Sleep has many restorative effects. After all, resting helps the body recover mentally and physically. However, by giving someone their special attention during rest, these researchers can induce an accelerated rate of healing, helping others recover from injury and lesser conditions much faster.

This archetype is pretty simple, so much so that anyone can make use of it, though answering the question of why they pair that adventuring profession with the science of sleep can be interesting. Tech-focused characters and magical ones have already been mentioned, each bringing their own focus, such as biohackers focusing on the secrets of brain chemistry, or precogs looking to dreams as a source of prophecy. Other classes might be tougher to explain. I can see operatives, some envoys, and soldiers using these techniques as meditation techniques to better themselves and others, not to mention weaponizing them to avoid battles. Solarians might be more mystically inclined, while nanocytes might have symbiotic nanites that were originally medical in nature, and so on. Either way, faster healing during resting can be a major boon in games with limited resources, and putting others to sleep can be useful in the right scenario.

Like a lot of things in Starfinder, the exact flavor of your abilities can vary a lot since they leave it nice and vague for you. Your character’s method of inducing sleep might be a silly glowing orb with a spiral swirling in it, a cloud of sleep-inducing toxin, or anything else you could imagine. Meanwhile, your advanced resting healing might be setting up your custom microlab/rig to carefully monitor someone while they sleep and induce slightly changes to enhance healing, or it might be a telepathic dream journey of some sort. Go nuts with it.

As a servant of the Space Butterfly, Milja dedicates herself to every aspect of the goddess. As a result, she eagerly became a pilot and a dream therapist in equal measure. However, her next journey is just beginning, as she has decided to embark on the path of the evolutionist, eager to metamorphosis into a true servant of her goddess.

In his quest to open a true portal to the Dimension of Dreams, Dr. Kahnville has been perfecting a device that in theory will let a sleeping mind serve as the catalyst for such a portal. However, when a ferrofluid ooze breaks in, attracted by the powerful field the machine emits, the party must fend it off before it destroys the Doctor’s only way back.

Ambushed by the foes they were hired to defend against, the party’s young charge is kidnapped, and it is their duty to chase down the attackers before they escape beyond their reach. Luckily, however, Said charge has a talent for hypnotism that slows the kidnappers down.

[doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou]

Canis Minor

Prophecies (1)

> larissa weems x fem!reader

> requested? no!

> content/warnings: angst, mentions of attempt su*cide

> a/n: Canis Minor has one myth that includes Icarius, his dog Maera, and his daughter Erigone, that's the story I decide to use here. Anyway, here's the song I played as I wrote this one. The Prophecy by T.S

Hand on the throttle Thought I caught lightning in a bottle Oh, but it's gone again

“Surely you know, Tish? I cannot lose her. I cannot lose this chance.”

“Apologies, Ris. But my knowledge about visions ends here. I do not know anymore.”

Hearing the sound of lightning crackling, Larissa sighed as she closed her eyes. She really thought Morticia had the key to unlocking the reason for the incident; maybe, just maybe, Larissa could retrieve your memories of her. Of both of you. Yet, for the nth time this week, her hopes have been crushed.

Groaning, Larissa reached for the wine bottle in front of her, not minding as the calling orb rolled down from the table to the floor. At this point, she couldn’t care less of whatever objects littered her office. Her sole priority was giving you back your memories, no matter what it took. 

“Wait for me, my love, please. I’ll come back to you.” It was like she could hear you say those words to her. She pursed her lips as she stopped her tears from trickling down her face as she drank the entire bottle of wine. 

Pad around when I get home I guess a lesser woman would've lost hope A greater woman wouldn't beg But I looked to the sky and said

It was midnight when Larissa decided to leave the confines of her office. Without any eyes judging her every move, she could walk freely, think freely, and reminisce freely. Finding herself on the highest floor of the school, Larissa observed the maps you drew for the students one tedious day.

“It is given that astronomy is hard, for some people, but not for me.” You paced around the room, locking eyes with most of your newest students. Seeing them cower beneath your gaze always made your first day, yet you can't help but think how many students have gone past you and not a single one has said anything bad behind or in front of you.

As you neared the board in front of the class, you saw five students with their eyes drooping, almost as if they had to sleep. So, you slammed your hands on your desk, chuckling when you saw the same five students sitting straight up with shocked faces. 

Smirking, you shook your head and grabbed the numerous scrolls in the bucket on your desk. “These,” you opened one and showed it to the class, “are maps. Study them after class, and we will have a discussion of the different constellations and how they became constellations.”

You clapped your hands, and one by one, all the scrolls floated towards each desk. “Now, who knows the story behind Canis Minor?”

“Canis Minor…” Larissa looked up to the sky, trying to find the first constellation you taught your students. “There you are.” Locking eyes with the stars, Procyon and Gomeisa, she walked towards the edge of the balcony and gripped the railing hard.

“I know only one of the myths surrounding you; I'm here to request that you not take her life the same way that myth ended. Grief is difficult, yet I know I can be the shoulder she cries on.” Blinking away her tears, Larissa bit her lower lip. “I know she decided her fate on her own, but I want to redirect that. I do not care if she saw every single one of my futures, and when she saw she was not part of any, she would leave whatever we had behind.” This time, Larisss let her tears fall down. “I want her to be part of my future, I need her to be part of my future. I do not care that every single one of my predicted future does not include her, I will make one for us. That is how I want my future to be. How I need it to be.”

Larissa felt her knees grow weak, and this time, she let her weakness overcome her. “Please… ”

Please I've been on my knees Change the prophecy Don't want money Just someone who wants my company Let it once be me Who do I have to speak to About if they can redo The prophecy?

“Grief does things to people no one can predict.” With light emitting from your quarters, Vlad could only hide his emotions behind his 10th glass of bloody Mary. He stood up to close his office curtains, yet when Vlad saw Larissa kneeling down on the balcony of the astronomy tower, he shook his head.

“Only you and Larissa can redo your fates, now that the cards are on the table.”

[futureauthor24]

HAZBIN HOTEL REWRITE(ONESHOT): The Unknowing Future

Once upon a time, long ago, the universe birthed two omnipotent beings: Yahweh and Resha. Both were born to create. Yahweh created the crust of the Earth, while Resha created everything beneath the crust. After that, they left the Earth alone, letting it grow and blossom into itself. Yahweh and Resha had different views, so they went their separate ways and created their own realms.

Heaven and Hell. Heaven was filled with pure light, beautiful, and overflowing with untaintedness. However, Hell was pure darkness, nothing but lava and fire. Heaven was above and Hell was down. Yahweh took the name of God and Resha took the name of Roo, their past names long since buried and forgotten. God had their own set of creations, and Roo had hers. And that was all to it… Until a prophecy, long forgotten, is revealed.

“The stars shall fall, as the damned and the good shall cry out as their kind is faced with their end by the hand of the Antichrist, the first Nephilim.” The universe whispers, a soft whistle into the wind. A warning of a new god—a new omnipotent being, after so many years.

~~~

The Antichrist, Roo hasn’t heard that name in many years. Sure, it was mentioned when she was first birthed, but the universe had been incredibly vague about who the Antichrist was, and what exactly their purpose was. But now, the universe has finally revealed who the Antichrist is, and their purpose. A harbinger of destruction. After so many years, judgment day was finally coming to pass. In the past, it was God’s duty to judge their creations, if they’ve failed, then they’re met with their end, if they pass, they live. Simple and incredibly easy, but God has softened and become fond of the disgusting creations they call humanity. Roo would do it herself, but she isn’t that powerful, sadly.

Because of God’s disobedience, The universe had to compromise and give such duties to someone else—The Devil’s spawn, Charlotte Morningstar. One of Roo’s beautiful and favorite creations. It had been difficult, creating a Nephilim isn’t easy, especially when you’re creating their biology. So, Roo may or may not have stolen the way God had created Jesus, and she used that as her inspiration. The universe was incredibly insistent about The Antichrist not having a soul, and how it was needless for them to have one. Soulless beings are unnatural, every living being has one, well except for God and Roo. Roo has never made one before, but she isn’t one to disobey The Universe, unlike God.

Does this mean that Charlotte would not love? Yes. She would not feel anything. Roo can only feel pity for Lucifer and Lilith, but alas, that is what The universe had demanded for how Charlotte should be created. All was going well, Roo watched over Charlotte through an orb, she didn’t expect anything to be different as she watched through the lenses of the orb. Everything was going fine, until Charlotte told her parents something incredibly odd, with a shining gleam in her eyes:

“I want to help sinners!”

The words echo through Roo’s head. Charlotte wants to help sinners, an innocent desire, that she should not have. Charlotte has a dream to help her citizens, the disgusting and absolutely dirty sinners. Charlotte Morningstar, future Harbinger of Destruction, and Antichrist has a soul. There is only one person who is capable of giving a soulless being a soul…

“God.” Roo growls, her lips scrunching into a pissed-off scowl.

~~~

God takes a sip from a wine glass, the liquid a pleasant taste on their senses. After giving Charlotte a piece of themselves so she can use it as a soul, well they’re a bit tired and very weakened. They didn’t expect it to weaken them as much as it did, but the exchange had. God spread themselves too thin, and now they aren’t as strong as they once were. But it was worth it, no one deserves the cruel fate of not having a soul, especially not his granddaughter. Even if it changes the fate that The universe bestowed upon Charlotte, it is still worth it in the end. Charlotte’s future is now unseeable, who knows what path she may take, good or bad. But it shall be grand, God’s sure of it.

Now, God needs to take a much desirable vacation, after everything that’s happened and their entire existence, God is incredibly exhausted. They need time, ironically, to regain their strength back to its full level. For a time, they’ll have to leave Heaven in their children’s hands… Reluctantly. God is unsure how it happened, but their children’s behavior has changed. They’re more arrogant, superior, and unwilling to change. It would be a bad idea to leave Heaven in their hands, a terrible one even, but God doesn’t have any current options. God sighs, feeling their age, as they glance down at the wine in the glass.

“When did it all go wrong?” God wonders out loud and they lift the glass to their mouth, however, they don’t even get to take a sip as the glass explodes in their hand, the liquid getting all over God’s clothes and face. “My wine…” God mourns the wine they didn’t get to finish drinking.

“Yahweh!” A rough and quite unpleasant-sounding voice calls out, God’s expression deadpans, recognizing who it is. Roo is the root of all evil, the god of hell, and the mother of sins. Resha, their sister. Sometimes, God wishes they were an only child, it would make their life so much more pleasant.

“Resha,” God responds with a drawl, as their lips curl into a frown, “Lovely to see you again. Did you change your hair?” God’s voice oozes with sarcasm. Roo's face scrunches up into a feral snarl, however, God is unintimidated, they’re used to their sisters’ fiery temper.

“Shut up, you faceless buffon!” Roo snaps, her aura is lashing with the angelic energy, darkness never mixed well with the purity of Heavenly’s power. Roo points a claw at God, practically frothing at the mouth (ew), “I know what you did, you absolute idiot.” Roo spits out, her voice dripping with eons of hatred and venom.

God’s four eyes blink innocently at Roo, and they place their hand on their chest, “Moi? Whatever have I done, dearest sister?” God questions with an air of unawareness and confusion. It’s fun seeing Roo again, God can almost say that they’ve missed her presence. Almost.

“You gave Charlotte a soul!” Roo’s voice echoes throughout the throneroom, “Of all the idiotic things you’ve down over the ages, this one has to be the highest.” Roo bares her frighteningly, much too sharp teeth at God, yet, God’s expression remains unbothered.

“Ah. That. Yes, well I don’t have an explanation for why I did what I did,” God shrugs their shoulders carelessly, as they laze around on their throne, “I was feeling kind, I think.”

Roo scoffs, God has a feeling that she’s rolling her eyes, “Kind, my ass, you went against The universe’s explicit orders, again. Why? Is it because she reminds you of J–”

“Don’t.” God interrupts sharply and Roo gazes at God silently, her head cocked to the side as she observes her sibling. After a few minutes of silence, God starts speaking again, “No one deserves the fate of not having a soul, Resha. She would’ve gone mad, yearning for something she couldn’t have.” God says softly, remembering the haunting visions of Charlotte and her future. It was nothing but madness, destruction, and death.

Roo’s gaze is steady and she crosses her arms, “And yet, you’ve set her future up for a more tragic fate,” Roo declares, glaring at God heatedly, “She feels now. She loves, dreams, and she has hope. The universe will now allow her to keep the soul she has when it’s time for her to take her role as The Antichrist. Do you know what it’s like, dear brother, for a being to lose a soul? It’s a fate worse than death. You didn’t save her fate, you made it worse.” Roo sneers at God, giving them a disgusted look, as she teleports away, her dark aura leaving with her.

God collapses fully into their throne and they sigh heavily, their shoulders slumping. They can only hope that such a thing will not happen to Charlotte, anything can happen in her future, it isn’t linear, and it’s all because of God blessing her with a soul.

The future is now in fate's hands.

[lunaetis]

@minban asked :

"what if they kissed?" / from phainon to eden !

what if they kissed ? || accepting

─「エデン」─  do not fall in love with a hero.

                AUREATE HUES followed the silhouette of him, tender locks like the first snow framing his captivating azure eyes and the smile that light up the otherwise seemingly daunting fate of the world she found herself in. the TRAILBLAZER realized that it had been like this since the very moment they met, even when there were little they knew about each other — the moment they eyes locked, there was SOMETHING that stirred inside of her. it wasn't the humming of the stellaron, more like a slight jump of her heart in a way she had never experienced before. the quiet tap of his hand to her shoulder, the soft sound of his voice and that smile in close proximity.

                even when her weapon was taken into his grasp, she found herself still staring at the brilliant blue that were his eyes. they had just met, yet this man held a kind of aura that was so bright even upon the ground so dimmed and dark.

                do not fall in love with a hero.

                chrysos heirs. the prophecy and the impending doom. there were so many things to learn about this world, the TITANS, the god-like beings, the birth of the world and how it slowly came closer to its end. the HOPE people pinned onto those they called heroes, and eden remembered how her eyes couldn't help turning back towards the FIRST MAN she met upon landing onto amphoreus. it felt as though she was living the fairy tale she had read from the archive. they were aware that their time was ticking, they were all aware that time was running out, yet ...

                how could you still smile like that when all the weight you carry upon your shoulders must be crushing you to the ground ?

                when they fight alongside each other, eden knew immediately why the people of okhema didn't feel the danger that was looming so close to them. even when the ATTACKS were launched upon the city, soon after they were able to keep the peace they had because of the heroes who fought their battles for them. and phainon fought elegantly, she felt, like a true warrior. eden fought almost recklessly, not caring if she would be HURT, while this man next to her had his weapon to make sure everyone was safe. he swung his sword not to hurt but to protect, unlike how her movements were of destruction. he was fighting for others. that was his fighting style through and through.

                do not fall in love with a hero.

                was it a blessing or a TRAGEDY to be chosen as a hero ? to have your path decided for you, to have your destiny laid out in a way that you could do nothing to go against it. he said being chosen as the chrysos heir was what gave his life meaning. that he was lost and wandering aimlessly prior to that. when he said it, his voice did not waver, his expression did not change. he spoke it like a fact, yet the TRAILBLAZER felt somewhere in her heart a tug of pain. was that her own or his, she wondered, the prick she felt deep within her left chest. he spoke his name with pride, phainon from aedes elysiae.

                so the blade he used now ... the way he fought to protect everyone now ... was it to make up for how he had FAILED to protect those he wanted to before ?

                as he held the coreflame within his hold, eden watched the flame flicker within those beautiful cerulean orbs. she watched as hesitation flashed over the eyes she had been watching all this time. this had been his mission, this was what he was meant to do, this was what he was meant to be, this was his PURPOSE as chrysos heir. he had been fighting for this, this was the moment he had been waiting for.

                then why are you making that face ? why do you look like you never choose any of this for yourself ?

                the light from the DAWN DEVICE reflected his expression as auric orbs burned the sight into her mind. even though he was standing right here, she felt as though he was standing far away, like he was no longer on the same world as she was. the very same eyes that shone with determination, with commitment, with conviction, now flashing with hesitation, with DOUBTS. he was the chosen hero, and now ... at that very moment, it dawned on her ...

                he didn't say it as matter of fact, he said it ... to convince himself this was the PATH he was supposed to walk.

                gloved digits reached out, slowly curling them into his clothes as she pulled him down. there were no words uttered, not even a call of his name, when her head tilted and their lips finally met. it was as though even the TRAILBLAZER didn't know she was doing this because it had been on her mind for so long. she had wanted to reach out for him ever since, and her body moved even before her thoughts and logic could take over. he tasted like gold, like the very title he held so steadfastly. a hero.

                amber hues slowly reopened, and she murmured a soft " ... i'm sorry ... " to his lips. what was she apologizing for, really, even she wondered that herself. for falling for him ? for not being able to save him despite watching him tread the path she had known all too well ? gloved digits twitched against his clothes, her breath spilling warmly against his own. his eyes were still as captivating as the first moment she saw them. how long had she been falling deep into them ? from the very first moment they met hers, probably ...

                " tell me to stop. "

                do not fall in love with a hero.                 ... oh, but it's too late for you, is it not, dear trailblazer ?

[lordrandreaming]

Isain and the Star

My latest lineless illustration!

Isain and the Star is originally a story snippet I wrote years ago. The star- is actually a living thing! A child of Aen Wilk prophecy that has the ability to change destiny..

Lore + Star Face alts under the cut! :>

The old king, Soluce, was born of one of these star fragments! However, Isain (Geanci) wasn't alive at this time.. He was born before Soluce was king. Later, Geanci was appointed Captain of the Knight's Guard after the former captain's death, and passing his trial of the Ancestors.

But that was beyond centuries ago. Now.. Isain resides in Tír na Lía, under service of Durbra- who is inheritor of the throne under Soluce's blessing. Though, he doesn't just stay sedentary, and occasionally returns home to the realm of Iaphearan Ollo, to the abandoned and long empty city of Ilalas Estergow, to simply be at peace amongst the silence of Len Luaen..

That, is when Sihdite, the God Aen Wilk answer and prayed to once, shows itself to Isain. In the long abandoned yet still standing palace of Len Luaen.. And gifts him with this child of prophecy, before promptly fading away.

But.. There is one problem. Isain is no host for this fragment, nor does he know anyone who can be. Or.. Does he? For now, he holds onto the orb, with the little dancing speck housed in a bottle of fog, waiting for the day the child of prophecy will have a host willing to see it through.

[heliumspirals]

Rite of The Nine Week 1 - Spire of The Watcher

Rite of The Nine is exactly the type of content this blog exists for. Bungie is taking a pass at their aspirational content and making an accessible sub-mode with rewards for eager gamers to get their paws into, and this means more weapons for me to talk about. I'll be doing these on a week-by-week basis, so stay tuned for Prophecy and Ghosts Of The Deep in the following weeks. Full breakdowns on all four of the unique weapons in alphabetical order below the cut.

LIMINAL VIGIL

The sidearm doesn't have proper API data sorted out on D2Foundry, so we're getting a slightly scuffed light.gg setup instead. I'll personally be chasing the rolls of Headstone/Desperate Measures and Attrition Orbs/Rimestealer for Pve, and Lone Wolf/Kill Clip for PvP. Your main challenge on Liminal Vigil is going to be keeping your groupings tight and on-target, so your barrel and mag will be put to good use cranking the stability, as you have a naturally vertical recoil pattern already with 94 out of the box. I'm usually not crazy about Rimestealer, but having access to another potent utility perk next to it is quite the boon. This will make for a strong pairing with Rimecoat Raiment builds, but if you're less specialized, Headstone/DM is just a solid workhorse for general purpose play.

LONG ARM

Long Arm hasn't really changed much from its first iteration, but it is uniquely qualified to take advantage of Gravity Well. This isn't exactly a good enough utility to justify building around, however, so use it as you would any other aggressive scout. Subsistence/Dragonfly will eat crowds alive, as Dragonfly damage inherits the weapon scaling, and aggressive frame scouts have naturally high scalars. Redirection, Rolling Storm, and Explosive Payload are all worth considering in the fourth column, but the third is a little less exciting, with your only real PvE perks being Rapid Hit and Dual Loader. If it wasn't for Gravity Well, I'd probably be recommending Dual Loader, but slowing down your reload speed so drastically kind of ruins the convenient interaction the rounds reload enables. (EDIT: Apparently this isn't a thing anymore and I missed that. Dual Loader or Subsistence is now entirely your preference, they're pretty equally good in my eyes.)

TERMINUS HORIZON

Redirection/Killing Tally High-Impact Frame Machine Gun (Dragonfly in the third column is neat, but like. Dude.)

WILDERFLIGHT

I am admittedly pretty biased towards double fire GLs and swap DPS options in general, but I'm in love with this already. Wilderflight has a favourable element for surgematching with powerhouses like Tomorrow's Answer and Edge Transit, and a perk pool deep enough to make Rhulk proud. Repulsor/Destab, Reverberation/Destab, Demo/Vorpal, Demo/Lead, Auto/Frenzy if you're a hipster, it's harder to find bad combos for Wilderflight than it is to find good ones. My dungeon luck disagrees with me on that, but I digress. This is the second best void special GL to drop from a dungeon, and that's only because of how absurd Attrition is on area denial frames. I will not be shutting up about Wilderflight for at least the next three years.

REVISITING TERMINUS HORIZON BECAUSE THERE'S SOME OTHER STUFF, I GUESS

Do I think you should use anything but Recon/KT on it? Absolutely not, you're insane for suggesting as much. Do I have a responsibility as an educator to tell you about what you could, hypothetically, be using instead? Yes. Dragonfly/Rolling Storm is a potent combo for building bolt charge, but would be worse than a similar roll on Watchful Eye. Triple Tap/Target Lock (or High-Impact Reserves, or Precision Instrument) is a potent combo for sustained DPS if you're busy scrolling brainrot with your other hand, but is better on Retrofit Escapade. Demolitionist/Killing Tally is pretty solid, I'll allow that one. Eddy Current is a bad perk. Envious Arsenal doesn't need to be on this gun.

CLOSING THOUGHTS

Broadly, the refreshed Spire weapons are all strong options. Only two of them are genuinely competitive options, in Terminus and Wilderflight, but that has less to do with the others being bad and is mostly because they're either outclassed or not doing a role that needs to be done. Long Arm is a strict downgrade to Unworthy from Sundered Doctrine, and Liminal Vigil is outclassed as an Attrition Orbs tool by the free Multimach available at Banshee. Farm up a Wilderflight if you like doing boss damage and your opponent is too far away for you to hold LMB with Lord of Wolves, and farm up a Terminus Horizon because I told you to.

[charmwasjess]

Speaking of fics in progress for 2024, I haven't forgotten the Milk Run sequel, working title Returning the Sword to the Stone. Synopsis: Master Dooku must attend a formal royal event as a representative of the Jedi Order, and everything completely falls apart from there.

Here's a little chapter 1 snippet of our favorite Seer helping Dooku prep for the event with some tarot cards, hurt feelings, and the phrase "arcane pornography" which is just fun to imagine being said in a Christopher Lee accent:

...

“You know, it’s so strange," Sifo-Dyas gloomed. "...the Council never asks me to go to any fancy dinner events, despite how much fun I am at parties.”

“They do not want to endure your magic card tricks.”  Dooku began to gather up the fortune-telling cards Sifo-Dyas had left strewn across the kitchenette’s counter. 

“Those are important tools of divination, not party tricks.”

Dooku’s frown deepened. They were not. 

Master Sifo-Dyas, Seer of the Force, was the only true oracle in a generation, gifted with the ability to see the glimpses of the future and speak prophecy. He didn't need magic cards, crystal orbs, or palm lines to glance behind the curtain of time and space. He was a true son of the pure Cosmic Force, with all the associated inexplicable and frightening implications of that favor or burden. 

But… he was also Dooku’s oldest childhood friend, a consummate jokester, troublemaker, and a known fool. He thought such fortune-telling talismans were wildly funny, ironic, and so he collected them out of his natural sense of whimsy. 

“Whatever they are, they are a mess. They are all over my quarters. And the art is very disturbing.” Dooku held up a particularly offensive example. “This one appears to feature a man with an erection in place of a head?” He shook it at his friend. “It is lewd, Sifo-Dyas. I'd prefer you to not expose my fifteen-year-old apprentice to your arcane pornography."

“Don’t get excited.” Sifo-Dyas didn’t even look up from his lounging to see what card he was holding. “It’s symbolism. A visual cue pointing to the significance of the card.”

“Yes, I am aware of the meaning of the word symbolism.” Dooku studied the image on the card again, turning it, trying to see how that applied to anything.

“Honestly?” Sifo-Dyas clearly wasn’t finished with the topic of the gala. “I think the last time I wore my dress robes was at your mother’s funeral.” 

“Please don’t remind me of that day.” 

“I’m sorry.” Sifo-Dyas grimaced. “I just meant how long it has been… counting backwards, that was almost twenty years ago…” 

“Speaking of dress robes,” Dooku exhaled through his nose, mechanically changing the topic. “I wonder if I ought to have briefed Jocasta on the dress code as well, or if she will correctly surmise the formality level of the event.” He wasn’t sure on the etiquette of dictating other people’s clothing, and it seemed especially intimidating with Jocasta Nu. 

“Jocasta?” Sifo-Dyas finally did look up from the couch, his dark eyes confused. “Wait, what are you talking about? Why would Jo need formalwear?”

“I told you. I invited her along as my companion for the evening.” Dooku shrugged. He surely had meant to mention it, if he hadn’t. “The invitation specified that I was entitled to bring one additional guest. The whole ordeal seemed like it might be less tiresome with a friend along.” 

"Oh." Sifo-Dyas’s voice grew soft and alarmingly neutral. 

The room’s very alignment seemed to shift. 

It wasn’t really possible, not any true Jedi ability that he knew of, but sometimes, just sometimes, Dooku could have sworn that Sifo-Dyas had the power to stretch time itself when he wanted to create an effect. Now was very much one of those moments. The sudden, awkward silence expanded limitlessly, on and on, in all directions, seeming to permeate Dooku’s very bones. 

“What?” Dooku finally broke, helpless before the technique. 

“Nothing at all.” More of that perfect, neutral voice. Damn him, it was clearly not nothing. 

“If you are seriously complaining about wanting to go, you could trade places with Jocasta and come as my guest instead?” Dooku suggested in a desperate rush.

Sifo-Dyas shoved violently upright and strode to the kitchenette. He collected up his cards to leave, growing terse. “It’s actually considered rather bad manners to exclude someone from something, and then offer them a belated invitation as an afterthought.” 

“I did not exclude you!” Dooku stammered, blocking his exit. He hadn’t done that, had he?

“Get out of my way.”

“Honestly, I did not want to invite either one of you! Neither you nor Jocasta!” 

Even Sifo-Dyas's usual vast grace could not keep the bitter sarcasm out of his voice. "Oh, wonderful! That makes me feel ever so much better! Dare I ask who you actually wanted to bring?”