#and she's willing to steal some divine power to accomplish that

[butwhatifidothis]

Do you personally believe that the war was started with good intentions? (I'm asking this to several blogs and wish to see opinions)

Ahhh, now that's a toughie.

It depends heavily on how sincere you believe Edelgard is with what she says she wants to do. If you genuinely believe that Edelgard genuinely believed war was the best - and only - way to achieve a better quality of life for those who are overlooked, weak, and/or born on the lower rung (among the myriad of other descriptors for those under privileged), then, well, yes, the war in your view would have been started with good intentions.

Me personally though? I just don't think so, really. imo there's just too many things about the war, what it ultimately resulted in, and the things brought up by CF's endings that are never said to be resolved - with Byleth, who is supposed to bring out the best of the routes' potential outcomes, being present at that - for me to honestly believe it was started with good intentions.

Edelgard states that the Kingdom and Alliance ought to be reunited back under Adrestia despite them being two independent nations with long-standing cultures separate from Adrestia (which are forgotten after the war according to CF's ending narration),

she mentions nothing of the starvation of Adrestia's citizens due to her war (you have to recruit and then talk to Ashe to find this out) (this would be fine - well, not really fine, but at least more acceptable - if, again, she hadn't been the one causing this starvation through her war),

she puts the people in direct danger in three out of four routes,

she continues her war despite initiating it with the stated goal of only taking down the Church but continuing it after she's disbanded the Church,

she lies about the Church dropping a bomb on Arianrhod to her allies in order to hide TWS' actions from them - people who pose a far more direct and larger threat to the people of Fodlan than the Church ever has, and whom she knows have already caused immense harm to her citizens in particular (Remire)

FEH mentions her not having any solid political reforms even after the war is finished which shows how little thought she put into her plans (not having an idea of what to do would be fine/more acceptable, if she hadn't started war certain that her way was the best for Fodlan. She can't say that and then also not be ready to implement some form of government without at best being wholly irresponsible),

the entire basis of the little political structure she outwardly describes would only further help the strong and do nothing for the weak (meritocracy will only elevate those with access to the means of elevation and even then is based entirely on what Edelgard views as valuable),

the people having to be spied on by Hubert constantly due to the amount of rebellions and risings that happen throughout her reign (Dorothea's paired ending with Hubert),

And with that last point mentioning endings, a large amount of CF's endings showcase that Fodlan harbors many of the traits Edelgard supposedly instigated the war for:

undue inheritance granted by birth (Sylvain and Lorenz each have an ending showcasing this to be true),

nobles holding ownership of land,

the loss of choice regarding political standing (Bernadetta being forced to take on House Varley's head position in at least two endings),

one person holding amalgamated power that wasn't rightfully theirs to begin with and that they have by forcefully taking power from others (Leicester and Faerghus being conquered, nobles being stripped of long-held power immediately after her coronation),

censorship of history being present after the war (Dorothea's paired ending with Edelgard, as well as propaganda being deployed even within the ENG ver. of the game, shown by Hubert outright saying that Edelgard hium and Byleth should "control the flow of [this] information")

With all this in mind, I can't honestly say I believe Edelgard had good intentions when starting the war. Every metric that would lean to that idea - keeping the people safe, wanting to elevate the less privileged, wanting to instate legislations that she has put ample thought in that she believes will help the people eventually, throwing away corrupt practices she perceived were being conducted by those she strove to overthrow - all don't happen. Even DLC bringing in Constance and giving Edelgard some sort of idea of what to do in one area of politics isn't stated to have done anything in the ending the support is attached to.

The best I can say for Edelgard's intentions is that she wants for humans to rely on their own strength to become strong, but even that idea is tainted by her continuation of that idea being to strip away support pillars many people rely on to get through life because they are based on a divine presence, not a human one. It means that Nabateans are not allowed to be present in Fodlan - or at the absolute minimum, allowed to hold any form of power - in her mind, because they "lack humanity." It means that the religious are weak-willed and can't survive on their own. It means that they are not allowed in her Empire, as shown by all four routes expelling them in some way (even CF, when she says before she initiates the war that Rhea as well as the servants of the Goddess must be killed in walking her path).

Like... to expand on one of the examples, Dimitri and Claude do not start the war, they have no idea that the implementation of political reforms must be made in the aftermath of war must be made, and yet their solo endings, while still vague on the exact details, give us an idea of how they're going about actually implementing the changes they want to do, with these changes being said to have a visible, positive impact on the people.

Dimitri installs a participatory government that allows for the common people to have a say in politics in order to have their voices and concerns heard directly from them as well as improving foreign relations in general, and Claude installs new trade routes between Fodlan and Almyra and sends forth Almyran reinforcements to assist in Fodlan's skirmishes with Imperial loyalists in order to foster better relations between the two nations. They are very simple explanations for how they're ruling and how they're accomplishing their goals, but they're a starting point. We have some clue as to how they get from Point A to Point B, and we see that they have a very clear, very directly positive result.

Edelgard? The one who started the war? Who started it with the presumption that she knew how best to rule it? Who knew that she needed to rule and implement changes in the aftermath of war ahead of time? She simply "reformed the class system." No how's, not even a simple one, she simply - supposedly - does it. And again, FEH (as well as some supports, like Ferdinand's) shows that she hasn't thought this through, that that part of ruling wasn't a priority for her when she started the war.

To me personally, that's not a sign of someone with good intentions. It's another sign that she mostly started the war in order to get back what she thought was rightfully hers, which was rulership of Fodlan under Adrestia's banner, with little care as to the outcome of her actions in getting that apparent birthright. None of the above results of her actions contradict this idea whatsoever, and many in fact bolster it (only she may decide who is worthy of promotion, only she may decide what the people are allowed to know of history, only under her watch may religion be allowed).

Now, does the setup of her having this intention make sense? Definitely, yeah. Being told by the one family member you have left of this supposed grand birthright that belongs to you and your country and how this evil race of godly beings is stealing it away from you and you must fight to get it back - after you've experienced the horrific lost of every single other family member you know and love to torture you were forced to witness and after you yourself were horrifically tortured and after you've come to the realization during the torture that the Goddess everyone loves and worships didn't help you - and with the torture happening to you in the first place (again, according to your one family member) because other people that aren't you and your family wanted power that rightfully belonged to you and your family....... uh, yeah, that can make more than a few people go a little extreme in their grabs for power. In that regard Edelgard is extremely sympathetic and understandable... just not good.

Again though, this is me personally! I'm not gonna sit here and say that seeing her intentions as good is an invalid view of Edelgard or anything. Hope I answered your question!

#anti edelgard #anti-edelgard #edelgard discourse #edelgard critical #just to be safe #was bout to take a nap and saw this ask lol #thought it was interestin' but imma take that nap #sorry for the long af answer lmao

[six-of-brides]

Wretched And Divine: FEAR Transmission 1: Stay Close

Co-writer: @x0-emoidiot-x0​

Person we reached out to for help (I have no idea what else to call them) @anxiousreject​

Heather

As I creep silently between the tall stone buildings of the FEAR headquarters, I try to be as quiet as possible. I can pretend to be here for other reasons, but if they knew my true intentions, they’d be after me for sure. There would be no chance of survival.

I hope my kin made it out after running away... Did they find someplace safe? Did someone take them in? Someone who is on our side? Someone who can help them stay safe? There’s no guarantee I’ll be able to tell without seeing it myself. Right now, I do not have time for that. I have a mission, and I’ll worry about them after. I’m already on a tight schedule, and I can’t figure out where they are right now. Right now, worrying is time I don’t have. All I can do now, is hope and pray they’re safe.

“Can I help you, miss?”

I freeze in my tracks.

Play it cool, Heather

“Yes, actually. I need to know where the army is. I have some information on the Wild Ones. I need to get that into their database.”

traitor, traitor, traitor I think to myself.

No, that’s not true. Think of your goal. Find the army’s whereabouts. Get the information to Prophet. Don’t get caught

“Do you know anyone that works with the rebels?”

“No.”

Of course you do. Your husband is probably off wreaking havoc on their forces

“Do you work with the Wild Ones?”

I mock offense. I think I took a cue from my daughter.

Good lord, I miss her.

“How dare you say such blasphemy! Of course I do not work with those traitors!”

You don’t know if he’s alive. For all you know, he died in a hole underground the minute you turned your back on him.

I guess that’s a lie. I do take information to them so they know what to do. Tonight, I’ll try and get some answers. I’ll ask the Wild Ones what they know about the location of my husband and daughter at the moment. I just hope they know something. They might know about Abigail, but you’re never supposed to give your real name as an adult, they probably won’t know anything else. 

“Wherever Abigail is, my husband is never too far away.” I remind myself.

I’m a spy, I don’t pretend to join the side of FEAR. As far as my parents are concerned, I’m asleep right now, when I’m actually out past curfew stealing information.

If only you could see your little girl now

Suddenly, I hear a voice over an intercom, meant so only the others working here can hear it, I know from the last few times I’ve been here. I get out a pad of paper that I find lying around. This will tell me their next plan of action, I can get it out to the Wild Ones, let them know what they need to do next. I listen closely and prepare to take in the next words I’m about to hear.

“We expect a battle for humanity is about to begin. With each uprising, a fake sense of safety will ignite in you, an unseen shadow will slip from doubt towards those who protect you and defend you. But the thoughts slip away, and remain calm. Stay close to FEAR. Only we can protect.”

The information on this loudspeaker is all bullshit meant to keep the soldiers of FEAR in check, so they don’t question their positions. This is their only way of knowing what they’re going to do. 

They expect a rebel attack soon, they could be ready for anything. They don’t say anything about moving into what they suspect is rebel occupied territory, but they are talking about the battle in general. This means they most likely expect an attack on their end, so they are prepared to defend.

I have to get this information out to The Prophet. A lot of running, even more quiet. I can’t be seen or heard by anyone. Once again, if I get caught, I get killed. 

“Ah, Heather. Thought I’d find you here.”

Are there more people up this time of night?

“Why are you here?” It comes out more sharply than I intended.

His horns bang on the door. I restrain the laugh.

He looks at my arm. The ink is showing.

His mask prevents any emotion coming out of his face, but I can still feel the disappointment.

“Still haven’t gotten that removed.”

“I don’t feel the need.”

“You know tattoos are a surefire ticket to hell.”

Pretty sure the Bible was referring to pagan symbols, but okay. I guess.

He goes, and I can finally breathe easily.

I get the file I need. It lists all the supplies at FEAR’s disposal for battles. Quietly putting it in my coat, I sneak out.

I start walking quietly through the hallways and corridors of the main building before I sneak out the door and through the gates. From there, I start walking back in-between the buildings. I need to be extra quiet here, because the guards always patrol these areas, looking for people like me.

I see one walking in my direction, and I instantly duck into the shadows. They can’t see me here, or at least, I don’t think so. The guard keeps walking this way and looks into the shadow. My heart is beating hard, so loudly that it’s the only thing I can hear. This calms down when the guard turns away and keeps walking.

“Are the supplies here?” He says to someone else I can’t see. I scramble for my paper.

“Yep. We got ‘Em good the last time. Thanks to Deviant. Then we knocked him out and killed the bastard.”

knew he was no good, that traitor. Glad he’s gone

“We can’t let them get away. They’re planning something. I can feel it.”

“We should go there now.”

The guard shakes his head. “We only have slightly more soldiers than they do. We need to wait.”

“I desperately want them in Hell now.”

“So do I. But if we go now, we won’t accomplish doing God’s work in getting rid of these Heathens.”

When the guard is finally out of sight, I walk away and keep walking until I get closer to the outskirts of the city. At this point, I just start running. I don’t need to be quiet anymore, but I do need to be fast. This information needs to get to them as quickly as possible, so they can plan their next steps carefully with as much time as they can get.

The roads begin to fade into vast amounts of sand. Nothing but sand and dirt now. Definitely getting more out into the desert. I run faster until I run out of breath. When I stop to take a breath, I look up and see the rebel camp in front of me. I’m getting closer. I keep running until I reach Prophet’s tent, the largest one around.

I walk in and see him staring into space. Somehow, his lipstick has been unaffected by the sand.

“Prophet.”

He quickly jumps up and grabs a knife before he notices it’s me.

“Oh, thank God. It’s just you.”

“I’m just as scared.”

“I’m not frightened.”

lies

“FEAR isn’t planning an attack, but they’re prepared for us to attack them. You don’t have to prepare for their immediate presence, but you need to prepare for what may come from attacking them. And here..” I hand over the file to him “is a record of what they have. You actually have an advantage on recourses in a few areas.”

He looks as if he may now be scheming a plan for their next battle. I hope everything goes well for them, they’re our biggest hope to defeat FEAR.

“Also, on a side note. Your makeup game is on point.”

Thank you.” He blushes. He actually blushes.

I guess he’s not used to it.

“I still remember everyone’s comments.”

There’s a pause of silence.

“People suck.”

“I know.” He says.

Another pause.

“Anyway, thanks again.”

I decide to ask him about my husband and daughter.

“Hey, um..can I ask you a favor?”

He closes the file and looks up at me.

“Sure. What is it?”

“I need you to find someone. Black hair that’s shaved on one side, narrow face, blue eyes..”

“Savior’s with us.” Prophet grins. “Abigail looks like her father.”

“She does.” My smile grows bigger.

I go through the information in my head.

They’re here, fighting alongside them. My husband has taken on a new name, he goes by Savior, Abigail kept her real name. I breathe a sigh of relief. 

“You can see them, if you want. I don’t think there’s anything Savior wants more than to see you.”

It’s so tempting. Even a week apart is unbearable. But I can’t.

I wish I had time to talk more, but I have to hurry back. I have a bigger chance of being caught in the day, and my parents will at least get suspicious if they find that I’m not home.

I start running again until I get back into the city. I don’t have to be as sneaky, but still have to be quiet. There are still people willing to report me for being out so late. I keep walking, ignoring the pain in my feet from doing so much walking and running until I get back home.

When I reach the house, I decide to sneak in through my bedroom window. I’ll wake someone up if I sneak in through the door instead. I get inside, close the window, and check the time. Two-fourty-five. About four hours until the sun comes up. That leaves me with plenty of time to rest.

I can do less worrying about where they are, but now I’m worried about what’s going to happen to them during battles. Abigail’s just a kid, they probably wouldn’t have her fighting, but now that they have “Savior” as a soldier, he could get hurt easily. I don’t know if he’s just a normal soldier, though. After all, he does have those powers. New ones, even. That would put him in a higher position than before, greater risk of being captured.

Then my thoughts get the best of me.

The FEAR officials have always wanted to get their hands on one of the Wild Ones’ higher-ups. They want Prophet because he’s the leader, but they claim that any one of them would work. I‘m even more worried about what could happen to them. Well, I can rest easy knowing that they’re alive and with someone trustworthy…

#andyblackveil #wretched ans divine #bvb #black veil brides

[buckysrighthanddoll]

Nyx, of the Night

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Reader

The reader is called Nyx in this, however, it is a reader insert :)

Warnings: language; slight pining; mentions of PTSD, anxiety, and drugs; the reader literally murders two people (oof)

The most recent addition to the Avengers--that’s who you were. They called you Nyx, the Greek Goddess of the night. You worked tirelessly at perfecting your powers--bringing death and sleep to people with a focused glance. You could also use “force fields” to do many things, including moving objects and throwing back the enemy.

Nobody was sure how you got these powers. You didn’t have a tragic backstory (beyond childhood trauma that was experienced by far too many people), you weren’t in some freak accident; nothing indicated that you would ever turn into this.

You, being a worshipper of the Greek deities, thought that perhaps it was a divine thing. Maybe something convinced a god or a goddess to bestow you with powers. The theory was ridiculous, but it was the only thing you could even think to come up with.

Getting close to the team wasn’t as easy as you would’ve hoped. It took a while for Steve to warm up to you, and even longer for Nat to start conversing with you openly. But, now, you were at least on good terms with everybody. You, Natasha, Steve, and Bucky were a small team within the team, which made you happy.

You and Nat would go out to brunch, you and Steve would sit around and sketch, and you and Bucky did everything together. He was easily your best friend. You used to think that he was quiet and held back, but it was the exact opposite when you got to know him. He was always making comments and joking around about whatever topic you were on about. Bucky made you laugh a lot more than you cared to admit.

Which brings us to the next point--you were deeply in love with your best friend. He just had a charm about him, and he cared about people, and he was friendly and funny, and have you seen those thighs? The man was a Greek god, and you were just another hopeless devotee.

You wouldn’t say anything, though (much to Steve and Nat’s dismay). It wasn’t that you couldn’t date him, but it was that you both just worked so well as friends. You were terrified to fuck that up. So much could go wrong, and you weren’t willing to risk that unless you were certain Bucky felt the same way.

Bucky, luckily, felt the same way. Yet, he also kept his mouth sealed about it. Even when it was blatantly obvious to everybody else, he chose to see it as you two just being friends. Steve and Natasha understood why; Bucky thought that he was a monster, even after all of the therapy and constant reassurance that he wasn’t. He believed that he didn’t deserve someone like you, who made him forget the past and live in the present. You were grounding to him, like a breath of fresh air.

The four of you were making cookies in the kitchen. It was Christmas, after all, and you wanted to do something privately before Tony’s big party tonight. Were any of you shocked that Tony was hosting another party? No. Were you happy about it? Also, no, but you supposed this was a better way to spend the holiday rather than out in the field. Besides that, this was your first Stark party.

Somehow, you’d managed to get out of the other two Tony had thrown this year. The first one, you played sick and snuck out with a friend from way back in the day. The second one, you were on a mission in Bulgaria. You and Nat managed a ten-minute facetime call with Bucky and Steve, and even got a quick moment with Sam and Wanda before they had to go.

And now, even though you wanted to just curl up under the blankets and put on a movie, you forced yourself to go to Stark’s Christmas party.

You had plenty of time to prepare for it since it was currently noon, and the party was at seven. Steve had suggested doing some baking for the team and some of the higher-ups of SHIELD, which sounded great at the time--now you just wanted another hour of sleep.

For the most part, you just mixed and decorated since baking wasn’t a strong suit. You stayed in the kitchen when Nat went to do her workout (“it’s a daily requirement, Nyx”), and you started decorating when Steve responded to a text from Tony.

“Are you ready for your first Stark party?” Bucky asked, leaning on the counter beside you.

“I feel like nothing can prepare me for one of his parties,” You laughed, adding more frosting to a piping bag.

“Whatcha wearing?”

“You tryna match or something?” You joked flirtingly. He rolls his eyes with a smile. “Nat picked it out, so I have no clue if it’s up to standard.”

“If Natasha has any say in anything, you’re prepared,” Bucky laughs. Fuck, that laugh. It was music to your ears.

“Don’t forget what you promised me,” You sang out as the oven went off. Bucky groans and pulls out some pecan tarts while you cut the tip of the icing bag.

“I can’t forget when you remind me every two minutes,” He jokes, setting the tray on the counter. He spins you around and places his hands on either side of you, trapping you in a way. Both of you knew that you could give him one look and he’d be asleep, but this was a position you certainly weren’t complaining about. “I owe you one dance, doll. I know,” He says, his voice softer than usual. It took everything in you not to reach forward and kiss him. But, of course, you reminded yourself why you couldn’t. It could ruin your friendship.

Instead, you stealthily dipped your finger in the frosting and then swiped it on the tip of his nose. Bucky had a look of shock, and then a wave of expectation. You couldn’t see either of them, though, because you were laughing your ass off. He backs away and grabs a cloth to wipe his face, and then you get back to work.

It was moments like those that you loved with Bucky. Sometimes he’d back away, and other times he’d tickle you until you couldn’t breathe; either way, it gave you serotonin.

Natasha finished her workout routine right as you finished frosting the cookies, and she helped you clean up. “Hope you don’t mind, but I gotta steal her for a bit,” She smirked, looking at Bucky.

“I don’t mind at all,” He says, trying to get some flour off of his black shirt. “I’ll see you soon, ladies,” He adds, giving that signature smile.

Natasha decides to get some food from a random diner on the other side of town. It was a light lunch but definitely needed. You had managed not to eat any of the batter (which was truly surprising). And then, once you got back to the tower, it was go time.

Nat went to her room to shower, so you did the same. She met you back in your room twenty minutes later with a towel wrapped around her and a makeup bag in hand. You put your wet hair back and started on the makeup.

It was a full beat, to be honest. Your skin looked like porcelain, and your eyes and lips were snatched. Nat went all out, too, opting to use a bold red instead of your mauve lipstick. Then, you did your hair in curls. They weren’t too tight, and they weren’t too loose. Tonight, you let your hair stay down rather than pinning it up. Next came the dress. Nat picked a flowy red dress for herself. It ended a few inches above her knees and had a halter top to it. She chose an a-line forest green dress for you. It had a deep neckline, and it shimmered, but it wasn’t sequin. It was like there were diamonds sewn into the fabric--it was unlike any dress you’ve seen. Your dress, like her’s, ended quite a few inches above the knee.

After sliding on your heels (and realizing you were half an hour late), you both took the elevator down to the party deck. It only took up one floor (typically Tony’s parties took four, but he kept it light for Christmas), but it was still set up so extravagantly.

“Let’s make a straight shot for the bar and see how many shots we can take before Steve and Bucky find us,” Nat said. It was less of a suggestion and more of a command, but you did it either way.

“Nat, you know I’m a lightweight,” You warned as you stood at the bar.

“Even more fun,” She smirked, waving down the bartender. The young man poured six shots to share between the two of you, and they were gone in seconds. Your goal was to keep up with Nat. And you did, but you were also feeling it by shot number six.

Steve found you guys first, asking what was going on. Natasha gestured to the empty shot glasses and water that you were sipping on, and he nodded his head in understanding.

“Where’s Bucky?” You asked.

“He’s in his room; he had a flare with his PTSD. He just texted me and said that he’d be down soon, though,” Steve answered. He whisked Natasha away after that, taking her to the dance floor.

You were concerned about Bucky, so you downed the water and hit the elevator. Tony made these so that they were faster than any elevator in New York, but the ascent to Bucky’s floor was maddeningly slow.

Passing your living area and heading to the only other door on the floor, you knocked. Bucky answered it a few seconds later, eyes widening at you.

“Doll, you look stunning,” He said.

You stepped into his room and shut the door, turning back to him. “What’s going on, Buck?” You asked him.

He sighs, knowing that he couldn’t keep anything from you. “I missed two days of my meds, so my PTSD and anxiety are flared.”

“Okay,” You told him. “Is it okay to touch you right now?” Bucky nods his head. How could he say no? Your arms around him grounded him in ways nothing else could. As much as he hated his nightmares and restlessness, he longed to have you in his bed and helping him sleep. Half of the time, you didn’t even need your powers to accomplish it.

You wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled him into you, gently laying your head on his chest. Both of you let out a sigh of relief and welcomed each other’s warmth. “I’m sorry,” He muttered.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart,” You replied. Bucky furrowed his eyebrows at the pet name (you never used them on him) but felt his cheeks heat up at the sound of it. “If you don’t wanna go down there, you don’t have to.”

“But I promised you that dance.”

“I’ll take a raincheck, Buck. Your health and wellbeing are infinitely more important than a dance.” Before he could counter, you speak again. “Wanna come with me to take my makeup off?”

“I have some wipes in here,” He says, releasing you from the hug. You follow him through the hallway and to the bathroom, where he pulls out an unopened pack of makeup wipes. “I keep them in here just in case you or Nat need one.”

“You’re so sweet, Buck,” You smile, taking a wipe from the package.

“I’ll grab some sweats and a shirt for you if you’d like me to,” He adds. “We can set up a movie or something.”

“That sounds perfect,” You say. Bucky goes across the hall into his bedroom, and you take off your makeup. When you’re done, you meet him in his room, where he’s scrolling through Netflix. Changing in front of Bucky was something you had done before, but it never stopped being awkward, especially when you needed his help to unzip your dress.

Once you were both ready, you got under the sheets. At first, you were just side by side, but it quickly turned into a full cuddle session. For once, you were the first to fall asleep.

The next morning, you and Bucky were called into Tony’s office.

“You two look splendid,” Tony quipped. You didn’t think twice about being in Bucky’s sweatpants and shirt, a cup of coffee in your hand and a scowl on your face.

“It’s five in the morning, Tony,” You snapped back. You weren’t an early riser compared to the rest of the team--it was something Steve repeatedly told you to work on. “What’s this about?”

“There’s a trade deal happening on the Solviski case,” Tony started. “And you two are the only ones here that speak Polish. Therefore, I’m sending you both out for recon and hit.”

“So what you’re saying is the biggest mission we’ve seen all year, where we need to exercise every facet of my training, is my first mission?” You asked. You were in disbelief. You hadn’t been on a single mission. The only thing that came close was when you stopped a bank robbery. And that wasn’t a mission--that was just poor timing for you and the robber.

“Yep,” Tony said. “Get suited up. There’ll be a quinjet ready in an hour. The mission should be two days tops.”

You and Bucky turned and went back to your rooms to get ready. You brushed your hair and teeth, packed your bags, and met your partner at the hangar. Once he got there, you both loaded up and took flight.

It was relatively easy, considering Bucky can put in the coordinates and place the flight on auto-pilot. So, when he did that, you sat back and tried to enjoy the ride. It was ten hours from New York to Poland.

You got a hotel room first. It was a damn good thing you were both fluent in Polish because the nerves started to kick in, and Bucky had to do most of the talking to get checked in.

“Okay, so we have to go to his party tonight--”

“Another party?” You groaned. Bucky laughs softly before continuing.

“We’re going undercover as Mr. Dominik Rovlov and his loving wife, Mrs. Katina Rovlov. We’ve been married for five years, and we need to make a deal with Solviski to get drugs for our small gang in western Russia. And we have a deal that he can’t refuse.”

“Which is?”

“20 million zlotych, or the equivalent of five million dollars,” Bucky answers. “Let’s hit the town,” He added.

“For what?”

“I didn’t bring a suit, and I’m assuming you didn’t bring a formal dress. Plus, you need to work out your nerves,” Bucky answers, placing his hands on your shoulders. “Why are you nervous?”

“It’s my first mission, and it’s high-profile. Mixed with the fact that Polish isn’t my native language--it’s like my fourth or fifth.”

“Hey, listen to me,” Bucky coos. “You’re Nyx. You’re like a Greek goddess. I wouldn’t mess with you; you’re powerful beyond words, doll.” Bucky always knew what to say and do when you were nervous. He knew you like the back of his hand. “You ready?”

“Sure?” You questioned. You were as ready as you were going to be. This was the easy part. All you needed to do was get a dress and get back here to prepare.

Bucky decided to split up when you got to town. He said that it’d be quicker since we only had two more hours to be at the party.

Once you got back to the hotel, you quickly changed into your dress while Bucky changed into his suit. The man was hot beyond belief.

“You look--wow,” Bucky smiled, running a hand through his hair.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, sweetheart,” You smirked. Bucky tied his hair up, slipped on his shoes, and then you got into the rental car. It was luxurious, but you didn’t care about the vehicle. Bucky had all of your attention.

Once you showed up at the party, Bucky parked a block away. He got out and opened your door for you like a gentleman.

“Okay. If something goes wrong--anything at all--you pull the pin,” He starts, referring to the codes you had made up in the hotel wrong. If you adjusted your earrings, it meant that something was off. It could be that you suspected that he was catching on to you, or anything along those lines. But if you pulled the pin out of your hair, it meant that a fight was going to break out any second, and you needed to be prepared. You weren’t horribly concerned with hand-to-hand combat or even knife-fighting; your powers were well adjusted to that. But if bullets were going to start flying, you didn’t know if you could put up a strong enough field to keep you and Bucky safe. “Nobody gets a single scratch; you got it?”

You nod your head in agreement. “Got it.”

“Okay,” Bucky says, taking a nervous breath. “Now, kiss me.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Kiss me. I need to know what to expect, so I’m not surprised in there.”

“Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.”

You took a second to process the situation. Bucky was right--he usually was. This would eliminate both surprise and flooding emotions if you had to kiss in front of a crowd of people. It’s just that this was not how you expected your first kiss with Bucky to go.

You place a hand behind his neck and gently start to pull him down to you. He cups your face, leaning in agonizingly slowly. His lips flicker from your eyes to your lips, his mouth slightly parted, and if you didn’t know any better, this would be a dream-come-true.

Your lips finally meet, and your eyes flutter shut. This kiss felt right, even though it was a practice for a mission. Bucky’s lips were so soft and gentle, and he moved so smoothly that it didn’t let you think. His other hand, which previously held no position in this, came to rest on your waist.

You broke the kiss first, moving only an inch away from him. Your mind wandered back into your body, and the weight of what was happening around you hit.

Bucky had a small smile on his face for a second. “Okay, I got it.” You swallowed thickly and backed away from him, and you both walked the block to the entrance of the house.

“Dzień dobry (hello),” The guard at the front said. “Dla kogo jest rezerwacja (who is the reservation for)?”

“Dominik i Katina Rovlov,” Bucky said. The guard checks his list, sees the names, and lets us into the house. The house was extravagant. There was gold framing on hand-painted walls, a giant chandelier, and all the guests looked eloquent.

“To jest piękne (it’s beautiful),” You said, taking everything in.

“Nie tak piękna jak ty (not as beautiful as you),” Bucky responded, his eyes never leaving you. You smiled and looked up at him.

“Co powiesz na ten taniec (how about that dance)?” You asked. Bucky took your arm and led you to where the other couples were dancing, and you joined in smoothly.

“Solviski knows how to find us,” Bucky whispers. “The offer was already laid out; now it’s about waiting.”

You nodded your head but didn’t say a word, focused more on the dance than the mission. It was a bad idea to go on a mission with Bucky Barnes. He would be the death of you--or perhaps he’d be the life of you.

And you could’ve sworn Bucky was an actor in his youth. The way he looked at you right now, with such tenderness and warmth, like he would do absolutely anything for you, it looked like he was falling in love with you right before your eyes. It was intoxicating. You could get drunk off of one simple look from him, and that was perfectly fine by you.

“Jesteś poszukiwany w głównym biurze (you’re wanted in the main office),” A butler said, tapping Bucky on the shoulder. “Chodź za mną (follow me),” He commanded, nudging his head toward the upstairs.

Bucky and you followed in a single file line, with you in the back. You made as many observations as you could--escape routes, the number of people that were in any given area, the location of the guards and butlers. Anything to help if the plan went wrong.

Once the butler got to the door, he knocked in a code. A female guard on the other side opened the door, giving a curt nod before looking at you and Bucky. She wore a plain black mask that covered the lower half of her face. Her dark brown hair was slicked back into a ponytail, and her eyes were a piercing grey. She was intimidating to most, but to you, she was as innocent as a child.

She opened the door and let you in, standing in front of it once it was closed. “Cieszę się, że przyszedłeś (I’m glad you came),” The man behind the desk said. From the files you’d gotten from Tony, it was easy to tell that this man was Solviski. Your nerves wanted to scream at you, and you had to keep your mind focused on anything other than kill mode, but you managed to look stoic. “Miło cię poznać (it’s a pleasure to meet you),” He added, gesturing to the chairs in front of him.

“Przyjemność po naszej stronie,” You said with a light smile.

“Moja żona i ja nie mogliśmy się tego doczekać (my wife and I have been looking forward to this),” Bucky adds.

“Otrzymałem twoją ofertę (I received your offer),” Solviski starts, tapping a file on his desk. “Po prostu nie mogę odmówić (I simply can’t refuse).”

“Świetny (excellent),” You say, clapping your hands together. “Załatwmy to (let’s arrange it).”

Bucky pulls out the briefcase he had carried in, and sets it on the desk. He opens it to reveal the money that we “owe” him. As Solviski looks through it, Bucky wraps his arm around your shoulders and gives three quick taps--the symbol to enter phase two. The hit. This, in your opinion, would be the easy part.

“Przepraszam (pardon me),” You started. “Myślę, że właśnie zacząłem okres (I believe I just started my period),” You added, faking some sense of panic. You stood up and looked to the female guard, who (although rather neutral) looked sympathetic. “Czy możesz mi pokazać łazienkę (may you please show me the bathroom)?” You asked her sweetly.

“Czy potrzebujesz czegoś ode mnie (do you need anything from me)?” Bucky asked, like a good husband should. It wasn’t a part of the plan for him to be caring, but you supposed it was just who he was.

“Nie, dziękuję, kochanie (no, thank you, my love),” You responded with a small smile. Turning back to the female guard, you nod as a signal that you’re ready. She leads you down the hallway and to the guest bathroom, where she opens the door and holds it for you.

You feel absolutely horrible for doing this to her, but it has to be done for the mission. So, you use a force field to shove her into the bathroom, and then shut the door behind you both. “I’m sorry,” You mutter as the lunges at you. You grab her arms and twist them so they’re pinned behind her, then you turn her to look into the mirror. Your gaze focuses right into her eyes and you will your brain into kill-mode. She looks stunned as she has an aneurysm, falling to the ground.

Quickly, you grab her body and place it into the bathtub, shutting the curtain. It was a good thing you wore gloves to this event because even though the Avengers would be taking care of the legal matters, you still felt horrible about the evidence you left behind.

You opened the door and locked it from the inside, shutting it behind you as you left. This would buy more time to complete the hit and make your escape. You gave the knock that the guard had given before entering, and the second you had entered, you gave a major blast to Solviski.

He flew backwards and hit the wall behind him, immediately coming back with a gun drawn. You threw up a forcefield right as Bucky stood in front of you with his metal arm as his only defense. The bullet stopped in mid-air, suspended by the field. You let Solviski empty his clip, watching as he panicked more and more. Once he ran out of bullets, he went to phone for more guards, but you gave him the same look that you gave to the guard, and he was dead in seconds. The second you felt the life leave his body, you dropped your shield, letting the bullets fall to the ground.

Bucky turns back toward you, heaving a sigh of relief as he pulled you into a kiss. You stood shocked for a second, but then your brain caught up to what was happening. Bucky pulled you tightly to him, nearly moaning when your hand went to his hair to keep him in place.

“Don’t you ever scare me like that again,” He said against your lips.

“I had it handled,” You argued, biting down on his lips gently. He let out a breathy laugh as you pulled away.

“We have five minutes before the butler does his routine check-in; we need to leave,” Bucky said. You nodded, reluctantly processing his words.

Bucky led you out of the room calmly in an attempt to play it cool. It was a quick exit, and an even quicker walk to the car. The two of you didn’t even stop for a breath when you were at the hotel. It was two minutes of throwing everything into your bag and speeding to the quinjet.

You felt like you could finally breathe the second the jet was in auto-pilot. Leaning back in your seat, you took one grounding breath before undoing your seatbelt and standing up. Bucky followed behind you, and you quietly changed back into your civilian clothes.

“Hey, we should probably talk about that,” Bucky said as he slid his shirt on.

“Yeah, we should,” You repeated. You sit down on one of the benches, and he takes a seat next to you. “Listen, I don’t know if you kiss everybody like that on their first mission, but--”

“I should’ve done it sooner,” Bucky blurts out. He notices your shocked expression and takes that at his opportunity to continue. “I’ve liked you for months, and I should’ve said something before we went on a mission.”

“You--did--Buck--I just can’t--huh?” You stammered. You take a second, collect your thoughts, and try to speak again. “Bucky, are you sure?” You asked. Wow, that was a dumb question. “I mean, aren’t you scared that we could ruin what we already have?”

“We could, or we could have something even better,” Bucky bartered. He had a point, and you truly never thought of it quite like that. “I wanna give us a shot, as long as you’re okay with that.”

You smiled and nodded your head at Bucky, making him smile even more. He leans down, cupping your face and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. This feeling was one you could get used to. Where you felt warm and fuzzy, as though you had taken five shots and were just starting to feel it hit.

They called you Nyx. The goddess of the night. But even the goddess of the darkness deserves a little light, right?

#bucky barnes #bucky #barnes #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier #nyx of the night #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes fan fic #marvel one shot #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes x enhanced!reader #winter soldier x enhanced!reader

[cynthiaandsamus]

Custom Toonami Block Week 70 Rundown

Code Geass: So Lelouch is gonna go join Nunally’s ‘let’s all hold hands and get along’ area but literally no one wants to go after Euphy murdered everyone last time. You’d think there’d be at least one dumbass like “Maybe it won’t be a massacre.” But yeah Zero’s like “Oh well I just happen to have a million people I can give to the zone if you exile me and let me go scott free” and everyone’s like “that’s a super shitty thing to do but okay” so then Zero tells Suzaku that culture is stored in the titty and all the one million people do their I am Spartacus thing and wear Zero’s costume which had to be a logistical nightmare, like Zero’s outfit already is pretty expensive with the fancy clothes and the helmet and shit and some of them are randomly customized even though that defeats the purpose like how do you do this on a terrorist budget in a few days without anyone in the government finding out. Like “we received an order for a million pounds of the thing used in Zero’s helmet on the black market” seems like it’d stand out. But yeah, the million Zeros get away, partially because of the “dogs playing basketball” rule that they’re all Zero because their culture of being Zero is stored in their titty which wouldn’t hold up in court but also because if they just kill a million people who’re just trying to leave that’d be bad for the government, not that they’re not used to genocide and being hated as Imperialists but Suzaku specifically doesn’t want that on his and Nunally’s hands while they’re trying to actually do shit for Japan for once. Feel like there’s probably a good cause for peaceful detainment and not letting them just walk out but it’s not like they’d find Lelouch or whoever the supposed second Zero was anyway even if they strip-searched everyone since he was never there and if it isn’t Lelouch the only thing that makes him Zero sight-wise is the mask.

Inuyasha: So yeah we get the conclusion of Shiori’s story for Inuyasha and I just can’t help thinking about how nice it is that she went on to help a lot of other half-demons in Yashahime because of an act of kindness that Inuyasha showed her right here, really good ripple effect shit. But yeah Shiori gets pissed that her grandpa killed her dad and Kekkaishi YEETs him and his followers out of the barrier so Inuyasha can backlash wave the lot of them. We still got fifteen minutes left though so even after Inuyasha says he’s not going to murder a little girl for a powerup that’ll get power crept in a few seasons, Shiori offers him the blood coral crystal to break to give him the powerup instead as thanks for not fucking murdering her. We can’t have the climax of the episode just be Inuyasha smacking a crystal ball though so Taigokumaru’s spirit yeets itself out of the crystal and fights with Inuyasha and attacks Shiori but her dad makes a barrier to bounce him off of so Inuyasha can kill him a second time and get the Red Tessaiga. There’s some navelgazing about how life as a half demon is rough but how Inuyasha thinks that hardship will be good for Shiori and he’s rooting for her in his own way and in Yashahime we see he’s right and all in all that’s pretty nice. Anyway next time we have the Panther Demon filler arc which is honestly probably one of my favorite filler arcs in Inuyasha so that’ll be fun.

Yu Yu Hakusho: Yusuke continues his fight with Suzaku and Suzaku splits himself into seven, which this doesn’t seem to be the Multi-Form or Shadow Clones deal where it divides his energy, each one seems as strong as the original so that’s just kind of broken. Keiko pulls a bait and switch on the zombies which neither Suzaku nor Yusuke see coming despite watching the whole thing on Spirit TV, guess Suzaku had the camera point at the door instead of on Keiko for some reason even though the point is to make Yusuke watch her die. Anyway Yusuke flashes back to Genkai telling him he’s a little bitch that always doubts himself and splits his energy across multiple plans instead of having the confidence to go for something with everything he has and make it work instead of holding back in case it doesn’t. This and remembering his mom crying over his death and all the relationships he’s formed makes him go Super Saiyan in what I can only describe as a Fully Body Shotgun which I don’t think ever comes up again. He knocks down all the Suzakus but it’s just time to start the real fight since Yusuke’s lifted his limiter again like he does in every fight.

Fate Zero: So the clusterfuck in the middle of Saber and Lancer’s battle continues to grow as Iskandar just fucking dares everyone to come at him and five of the seven servants actually do. Gilgamesh is all like “Ugh, why do I have to do this shit, breathing sucks, I’m a king, someone breathe for me.” And tries to murder everyone with spears and shit but turns out Berserker is Darth Vader this time around and uses the force to steal his stolen weapons until Rin’s dad is all like “Dude you’re showing the whole world our fucking moveset, get the fuck out of there. Which given that Gilgamesh is an archer which are supposed to be independent and he’s a fucking snobby asshole, even with a Command Seal I’m surprised that worked. Also Waver’s racist teacher is all “hah wow, I was supposed to have Rider and the token teenager character stole it from me” and Iskandar’s like “I like this kid that’s ride or die with me even though he cries all the time way more than someone who doesn’t even step onto the battlefield you stuck up prick” and then Lancer and Berserker double-team Saber (giggity) and Lancer’s not happy about it because he was fighting Saber first and doesn’t wanna just jump her with Darth Vader but more Command Seals are thrown around until Iskander runs over Darth Vader with his fucking Lightning Chariot and that’s kind of shitty because Racist Teacher man wasted a Command Seal to have Lancer attack Saber for like five seconds before making him retreat. Bug Dude is also kinda freaked out that Berserker just kinda went for Saber meaning she must be pretty pissed at Saber about something anyway so basically everyone runs away and nothing is really accomplished, we didn’t even really need Kiritsugu’s sniper shit or Assassins’s Ninja Bullshit for this everyone’s just had enough and goes home. Also Caster is a creepy yandere simp for Saber but really who isn’t in this series.

Konosuba: So Aqua’s ready to sit in a lake for a few hours to make some money but for the first time in her live her divine booty is not enough to solve this problem. She gets traumatized by getting attacked by demon alligators and Kazuma and co. are honestly uncharacteristically worried about her and ready to try and help her. Meanwhile generic isekai protagonist has a crush on Aqua despite already having his own harem of bland girls and wants to steal Aqua back but basically the whole group is so totally anti-White Knight they can see right through his shit and turn him down. Kazuma beats him up in the most Kazuma way possible and steals his magic sword, proving that not only is he not doing anything to defeat the devil king but he’s actively sabotaging those that are. Aqua fucking decks the guy and blackmails him so she’s rich now and Kazuma’s rich from selling his OP Isekai Cheat Sword. Also the Dullahan dude is back for revenge about bombing his castle and Kazuma’s like “Wait were we still doing that? Thought we stopped, oh well everyone in this world’s problems are our fault somehow so it sounds about right.”

Sailor Moon Crystal: So this time we get Makoto’s story who’s probably my favorite thus far because her job is punching shit and making sure Usagi doesn’t die from the hundreds of things ready to hit her on a daily basis. I have sort of found a redeeming trait for Usaig in that she’s willing to reach out to anyone and everyone, like she’s not what I would call traditionally ‘nice’ but she is friendly and that ability to pull disparate people together does kind of make more sense for why she’d be the leader rather than the other girls who have useful but more specific talents. But yeah continuing with the trend of things teen girls like trying to destroy the world, haunted bridal shop that also reveals Makoto’s tragic backstory of being a more believable version of Tall Girl. Makoto transforms and beats up the Bride lady with a combination of Zenbonzakura Kageyoshi and Azula’s lightning bending, no fair that she gets two powers but I guess she is the tough one so it make sense. Now we’ve basically got the whole crew except for the one that we already know is active but hasn’t joined the group yet so we’ll see how this goes.

Durarara!!: So Mikado’s in deep shit after stealing the girl away that half the town is looking for, all because he has it hammered into his head that whenever a girl asks for his help he has to give it. There’s a bit of discussion about the nature of the Dollars that I’m sure won’t be important later but both Izaya and Celty show up outside Mikado’s school and he’s kind of in an awkward position since there’s nowhere he can really go but home and lead them to the girl. So he decides to find out about them, or at least Celty, Izaya’s just kinda along for the ride. He gets Celty’s backstory and agrees to take her to the other girl only to get jumped by Yagiri thugs and pull out some Death Note animation internet shit that has even Izaya stunned, Mikado about to actually become the main character of this anime for a bit.

#ooc #Toonami #Custom Toonami Block #Code Geass #Inuyasha #Yu Yu Hakusho #Fate Zero #Konosuba #Sailor Moon Crystal #Durarara!!

[pokeverse-amethyst]

Sooooo… this is gonna be a long one, strap in. What follows is a metric ton of HCs about every single evil team and how they have worked themselves into every aspect of daily life, as to make them way more difficult to get rid off than just with a couple of arrests. Timeline wonkiness when trying to explain what likely happened first is to be expected, I’m playing fast and loose with all of this stuff. I might be way off topic in some regards but HECK HERE GOES. ~~~

TEAM ROCKET: This is pretty much of a no-brainer. What we have here is a classical mafia structure, and you just need to look at countries with extensive mafia presence to know that they are baked into every single fucking thing. Giovanni has worked years upon years to cement himself straight into Kanto and Johto, consequently making it impossible for any of the other teams to even THINK about gaining a foothold there. No further explanations necessary. ~~~ TEAM AQUA / TEAM MAGMA: This one is a bit of a more difficult one. But then again, let’s presume that most of the teams recruit a mixture of people who fully believe in the team’s message, who misunderstand the team’s message, and who see themselves in the team, but not necessarily in the message (so just looking for somewhere to belong and to gain some kind of direction). Oh, and monetary gain. Can’t forget that. So in the case of both Aqua and Magma? I like to believe it started out with Maxie and Archie working together on a plan to give nature back to Pokémon. Like, with trying to get more protected zones established, kinda like Fiore has them? But they were hitting resistance too often. Now I’m not saying that they were on the wrong track from the start or developed into what is basically eco-terrorists, but… they probably saw way too much bad shit happening to Pokémon around them. Maybe they heard what Team Rocket was doing to Pokémon in Johto and Kanto. Maybe they heard rumors about what Cyrus nearly accomplished, what Lysandre almost triggered, what Ghetsis managed to fuck up with his whole power play madness (TWICE, too!), what the Aether foundation might have had triggered if not for the intervention of a Legendary, what Rose made possible in the GALAR REGION of all places… Suffice to say, they probably felt like they needed to seriously up their game… to make sure that the other teams didn’t fuck up the world beyond repair before THEY could make the world a better place. The only thing that finally broke Archie and Maxie up though, was an inability to settle on what would be better. More landmass, more sea? What would be the gentler way of resetting humanity? Suffice to say, their vision might have attracted way too many who nudged them along. So TLDR: Archie and Maxie mostly reacted to what the other Team Bosses were doing and were helped along by Grunts/Admins that were way too into the whole “we will be the only humans deserving this new, shiny world”. They were numerous enough and determined enough to turn into a slightly terroristic group, but until the ultimate use of Kyogre/Groudon, they never really registered that much on Interpol’s radar. And when Interpol learned of them stealing a whole ass sub? It was already too late stopping them in their tracks in time. After all, Interpol had all the other regions to monitor as well… ~~~ TEAM GALACTIC: So. Charon doesn’t need much of a head canon fuckery. He just did it for the money, that much he stated openly. And Jupiter, Mars and Saturn? They all admitted openly to being along for the ride because they believed in Cyrus and the world being fucked up beyond repair, thus needing a good ol’ divine intervention from the whole-ass creation trio. But I don’t think any single one of them fully understood what Cyrus’s goal was. The commanders (that are not Charon) squarely fall into the category of “misunderstanding the ultimate purpose of the team”, as do all the Grunts. And as mentioned above with Team Aqua and Magma, Galactic probably saw some of the stuff that was happening around them and ultimately decided (and this is mostly for the Grunts and the Commanders) that Cyrus probably wasn’t so far off with the human spirit being incomplete. But they made one crucial mistake (pretty much the whole team, even Charon). They thought that Cyrus’s assertion over the incomplete nature of the human spirit was a reason for the man to believe in a world that should be made whole, not in wiping the whole fucking slate clean and going Tabula Rasa on the whole of creation. Much to the annoyance of everyone involved (and with that I mean the Creation Trio and the big boss of them), he actually went far enough to step on everything just to gain the power to control the legendaries. Also, time to unearth an already yoinked HC of mine that Giratina mostly retreated into the Distortion World to get some good alone time in, only to be disrupted by Cyrus bursting in. On that point also: time not really working all that clearly in the Distortion World. Kinda like Narnia rules, in as there is no fixed constant for time moving forward in either one or the other extreme. Sometimes, time will move forward extremely fast, other times, you spend years and years in the Distortion World and only a few seconds passed. After all, everything gets a bit… wobbly in there. But around the time Cyrus entered, Distortion World time became… more orderly. And that was what prompted Giratina to go VERY UNAMUSED ON HIS ASS. Think of it as time being influenced by what is thrown into the Distortion World. BACK to the Team, though. Galactic honest to Arceus believed that what they were doing would give the world a much needed boost… and were unpleasantly surprised when they were later on all shown that Cyrus wanted to go destruction and rebirth on the world. But that is not to say everyone was unhappy about this revelation. ~~~ TEAM PLASMA & NEO PLASMA: What easier time to convince disparate beliefs than with the apparent reason that they were just helping Pokémon that would have been unhappy in the care of their trainers? Wether the Grunts believed that the Pokémon should then consequently be released back into the wild or that they THEMSELVES deserved the Pokémon way more than others? What easier way to convince them of Plasma’s ideals? And there was no real discussion amongst the Grunts over this dichotomy. Sure, a few were disputing the one or the other stance, but most were still agreeing that the trainers they took the Pokémon from did NOT deserve them. No matter how pure their reasoning was. No matter how reality really looked like. Sure, they were removing Pokémon from some really nasty trainers? But on the greater scale of things, they mostly took Pokémon from trainers who they loved being with. And Ghetsis had his thumb on this a lot. See, Ghetsis didn’t want N to sway too much, before he finally met the protagonist. So Ghetsis made sure that only obviously abused Pokémon removed from trainers were brought to N. …why, no, this doesn’t mean at all that they were usually just from the outside. Ya think Ghetsis only had his main team? Dream on. ~~~ TEAM FLARE: What is there to say about Team Flare? They are basically a mix of the worst of the self-viewed elite of the region. There is entitlement to being viewed as the best of the best (and you can’t tell ‘em otherwise), there is doomsday fans who would do the whole shit with bunkering down and then fighting in an apocalyptic wasteland and fancying themselves new leaders in that changed world, there’s the ones who just think they will be able to surpass even Lysandre… What about the Admins of Flare? They half share Lysandre’s views of beauty. But mostly, they are in too deep to quit, and also half about relishing the fact that they get to work on something truly unique and devastating. They want this whole power thing to work out for them because some time in their lives, they might have felt like they were owed power and didn’t receive it. They were owed recognition and didn’t receive it. They want to be the new top of Kalos without working TOO hard for it. Without anything laying rocks in their path. Without any obstacles telling them that, no. They fucked up. ~~~ AETHER FOUNDATION: The moment Lusamine found out about the Ultra Dimension, she ostensibly was lost to her goal of getting her hands on the power to change the face of the world. And to preserve beauty. In many ways, her goal was similar to Lysandre… to a degree. The Aether Foundation is half staffed by people who truly believe that conservation work is the most important factor in the Pokémon World, to preserve some of the more endangered species around the world, and half staffed by people who truly believe that the Ultra Dimension holds answers to problems humanity might not even have recognized as such. This latter half was unpleasantly surprised when they started to learn the truth from the Ultra Dimension researchers. Finding out that Necrozma had destroyed the natural light of that world and was now the only source of more light for the city? That was a shock. But that didn’t necessarily mean that the Aether Foundation would have been broken up by that. Because honestly? The part of the conservation enthusiasts who were not deterred by the Ultra Dimension incident made the Foundation bloom beyond what it was possible to become. So in short: this foundation survived its leader far better than many others, and actually managed to get accepted. ~~~ MACRO COSMOS: This is the team that shocked their region with just how far their influence had gone. And that is to say that they existed at all, right under the noses of the region. Rose’s whole deal is a big part why Leon would later be plunged into a crisis of conscience, despite everyone assuring him that he had no way of knowing just how far Rose was willing to go to show the region how wrong it was to not immediately acquiesce to all that he envisioned for the future. The mere fact Rose was UNWILLING to wait what would at most have been half a day for Leon, to celebrate with the others after another big Champion Tournament? That was what sat so ill with many in the region. It wasn’t so much the message that Rose felt everyone had missed (that was actually just his version of events - most of the Macro Cosmos Grunts were attached to him solely for the reason of having privileges that none other had, and when they saw how he was acting, only the most dedicated few could ignore what was going on). So we are dealing with another team that was shocked how far the leader would go, but even more so than the Aether Foundation, the members scattered when Rose enacted the Darkest Day right out of nowhere. There is still worries that remains of Macro Cosmos could be out there, trying to bust Oleana and Rose out of prison and actually finding another way with which to scare Galar into complicity. How well that would even go is a whole different question… because the new champ is even stronger than Leon, and THAT is real fucking bad news for anyone who would want to establish themselves.

#Big whopping HC post incoming #Dash Commentary: Musings in Primorvia #Primorvia's Voice [Mun] #The Mountains Hold Many Paths to Secrets [Headcanon] #This went on for longer than I expected #I have no idea where even half of this came from #If I accidentally rephrased something someone else HC'd before I'M SORRY I KINDA LOST TRACK WHERE WHAT MIGHT HAVE COME FROM #Anywho have an oggle at almost 2k words of RAMBLE

[adhonoremrpbios]

-- CHARACTER --

Name: Narcissa Black Faceclaim: Elle Fanning Age: 18 Blood Status: Pureblood Affiliation: Neutral with Deatheater ties Former School & House: Hogwarts, Slytherin Occupation: Unemployed

-- BIOGRAPHY --

From the moment she entered this world, during that liminal time before the sun has risen, but the sky is still lighter than in the depths of the night, Narcissa was the antithesis to the traditional Blacks. Where her sisters, mother, father, cousins had dark hair, sharp features, cutting eyes, and venomous mouths, Narcissa was a ghost; soft, curved, delicate, haunting.

The third and final disappointment to Cygnus the Third who so desperately wanted a son, Narcissa was all but ignored by her father from the beginning. If he wasn’t presenting her with a lavishly expensive doll or gown, he didn’t care to talk to his youngest. Bellatrix was the apple of his eye.

Alternatively, Druella became enamoured with their fair daughter. Her features were unlike any others in the family, and Druella valued two things above all else; beauty and how that beauty can be useful to her. Before Narcissa was even capable of speech, she had a string of pearls too tight around her neck like a collar that her mother used to remind her that her grasp was inescapable. Her youth consisted of years of lessons, tutors, and strict schedules. Even by Fitzwilliam Darcy standards, Narcissa would be considered an accomplished young lady. The better she became at any given task, the more her mother demanded of her. There was no such thing as perfect to Druella, only more to improve upon. That was the beginning of Narcissa’s deceptions. She was certain to never show how talented she was, and let her family believe she was completely average.

She envied Andromeda, whose quiet nature and subdued appearance made her free of their parents tutelage. The middle child was left to her own devices and could go as she pleased throughout the day. If ever given a moment, Narcissa would soon enough steal away to a private corner of the attic, basement, or garden with an old tome from the Black’s personal library. Of course, her respites never lasted too long. The house elves, her sisters, or even her mother would find her and drag her back into the endless lessons. Narcissa never complained. She did all that her mother asked, biding her time.

The solitary light at the end of the tunnel was Hogwarts. Bellatrix had gone, Andromeda had gone, and Narcissa had been left solitary for a year, yearning for the day she’d be able to board the train at King’s Cross Station and disappear to a year away from her suffocating mother. It occurred to her a few months before she was meant to leave for school that perhaps her mother wouldn’t allow it. She even thought she’d overheard Druella begging Cygnus to let her homeschool Narcissa for the rest of her academic career, but thankfully, he’d sternly refuted his wife. Narcissa needed to be sociable and influential at school if the Black family was to continue its powerful grip on society.

Druella wept when Narcissa packed her trunk for her first year. She’d been distraught about her youngest daughter leaving for weeks. Their mother kept wringing her hands and proclaiming that she had no idea what she would do with her time now. Narcissa feigned regret for leaving and assured her mother that she’d find some way to fill her time. However, Narcissa had never been more excited to experience the freedom that came with school. From the moment she stepped on the train, it felt as if a world lifted from her shoulders. Even her pearl necklace didn’t feel quite so strangling.

Narcissa sat in a compartment with Andromeda and a few of her classmates instead of trying to find other first years to talk to. Frankly, she appreciated simply looking at the scenery as they went along. She enjoyed just sitting and being without having to do anything. Andromeda warned her that there would be people at Hogwarts who would have heard of her, and there would be plenty of rumors about her and her family, but Narcissa didn’t care. They could say that she was the devil incarnate, and she’d still be excited to hear a voice that wasn’t her mother’s saying it.

After the sorting ceremony, she began to realize the full implications of her sister’s warning. She unpacked her trunk in the Slytherin dormitory with the rest of the first year girls and attempted to make her first friends. They all smiled until names were exchanged. She heard the whispers when her back was turned. They only intensified when the eldest Black sister appeared to check on Narcissa her first day. After a quick greeting and good luck, Bellatrix told the rest of the Slytherin girls to be nice to her sister or else. As kind as the gesture had meant to be, it assured Narcissa a rather lonely first year. Even those who wanted to suck up to a Black sister didn’t bother to talk to Narcissa for fear of invoking Bellatrix’s wrath. Not to mention, Andromeda came off far more personable- an easier friend.

Narcissa threw herself into learning who she actually was. She had plenty of free time without friends to worry about and without her mother’s constant presence, though she did have to dedicate a portion of her week to responding to her mother’s letters. She decided to have average marks in her classes despite fully understanding the material and even studying further than what the classes required. It was to her advantage the world continued to see her as the beautiful sister. While the rumors about her spread even more, Narcissa became more and more lonely. She decided to play into the persona that everyone had created for her.

Her school life continued as such until the middle of her third year. Narcissa began to study legillimancies and occlumencies. She was very good at it. Disturbingly good at it. During the middle of the night, she began to explore the innermost thoughts of her schoolmates, professors, and anyone else she thought would be interesting to understand. The more accomplished she became, the more willing she was to do what was ethically questionable. The more ethically questionable her decisions became the more her curiosity for the darker arts and divination became. However, her studies no longer fill that space in her that craves connection.

Things changed when she agreed to an engagement with Lucius Malfoy prior to her graduation from Hogwarts. He was one of the few to ever see through her facades, and managed to melt away a bit of her ice over the years. However, it was soon revealed that he’d been promised to her by her father from the beginning making everything a lie. This enraged the girl who promptly called off the engagement and absconded from her parents home. While the Blacks are trying their best to keep this a secret, Narcissa has been well hidden from everyone looking to pull her back into the fold.

-- TRAITS --

Negative - Haughty - Deceitful Positive + Thoughtful + Observant

Narcissa Black is taken by Lex.

#narcissa black #taken #B

[obsidianmichi]

Can you tell something about your Falon'din? What kind of magic does he prefer? His favourite type of people, or kinks? Do you think he is really Dirthamen's sibling?

Sure, I can talk about my Falon’din. I love that guy.

Devil, Devil by Milck is his theme song. He’s the devil.

Background:

Falon’din/Suledin isn’t his original name or original state of being. He was once someone else long before Elvhenan was established as one country. Like Harel and Harel, he was once the ruler of another elvhen civilization that was incorporated into Elgar’nan and Mythal’s kingdom during the early days when Arlathan was just beginning to stretch outside itself. He is Mythal’s “son” or creation rather than the true son of her body like Andruil. He was considered too valuable to destroy but too dangerous to be left alive. He was torn apart and transformed into two separate beings, Suledin (Falon’din) and Sulevin (Dirthamen). One kept their memories and the other did not. They aren’t truly brothers, but they’re not unrelated either.

Other Elven Gods who are not originally of Elvhenan but raised into that status include Dirthamen, June, and Ghilnan’nan.

Falon’din is considered to be the Father of Demons by the Ancient Elves, Elgar’nan’s right hand and the enforcer of his will. He was one of their generals, along with Dirthamen, who did the vast majority of the conquering to create the Elvhenan Empire.

Solas blames himself for the destruction of Elvhenan, but the instigator of events which led to the fall was, in fact, Falon’din.

During the rising of the Veil, Falon’din partitioned off a portion of himself and escaped from Arlathan in spirit form and within the body of a trusted retainer. However, when the elves became mortal so did he. Like Mythal, he discovered a way to pass his soul forward, usually into a child about to be born and a trusted retainer who maintained their immortality would awaken him when he turned ten years old.

Falon’din’s study of spirits over millennia allowed him to discover a way to restore immortality to the elves, however he discovered this by accident while using reincarnation to restore the soul of his beloved. He probably could’ve brought the Veil down, but Solas’ plan worked to his benefit. Even when able to work with only a fraction of his power, he was free to pursue his true goals unfettered by the watchful eyes of the other Evanuris.

Most of the access the Dalish have in my universe that they hide from the outside world come from him and his work, and there’s even more the average Dalish is unaware of.

Magic: Soul Magic, Fate Magic

Falon’din is an incredibly powerful mage, though he doesn’t normally show his raw power and instead prefers a more subtle approach. He goes in for magic which will allow him to structure a situation, stir up rumors that cause civilizations to fall, and can create riotous mobs with just a word.

Falon’din is the master of magical arts involving the soul or spirit. We can call this a lot of things, soul-magic, soul-forging, soul-manipulation, reincarnation. I’d say “spirit magic” but that gives the wrong impression, and is subtly different from Solas’ magic which involves his study of the Fade. This wasn’t his original specialization when he was one being, but one he learned to master over eons in order to revive the one he loved from annihilation.

On top of everything else, he’s also a capable martial combatant.

Right now, he’s only at a fraction of his full power if the Veil came down and he reunited his soul with his body you’d start to see why Solas hates him so much. He knows the Veil falling is inevitable, which is why he’s moving to get there first.

People He Likes: Eirwen

Falon’din values loyalty above everything, but he is loyal to one single individual and, while he cares for those who put their faith in him, there is nothing he wouldn’t do to correct an ages old mistake. He prefers retainers who are capable of independent thought and allows them to voice their opinions, but they won’t remain in his service long if they have nothing worthwhile to contribute. He favors expediency, practicality, and self-sufficiency when the situation calls for it, but he’s not above offering a helping hand if the situation calls for it. He’s not fond of moralistic whining, people calling him evil, or telling him what he already knows. He doesn’t value stupidity or pointless self-sacrifice. The vast majority of heroic archetypes bore him, and he’d be incompatible with most Dragon Age protagonists, also incompatible with most companions. He considers himself evil, and he sacrificed the self-righteousness Solas clings to a long time ago.

He works with people who are independent, self-sufficient, diligent, practical, clear sighted, have strong personalities, and are ruthless in the pursuit of what they want. He dislikes when people are clingy, when they ask for more than he’s willing to give, when they break their oaths, or force their will or morals on others. He’s impressed (we’ll use that word lightly) by those who seek to the truth beyond their first impression and ignores those who respond with surface level knee jerk reactions. He has no issue axing those who prove to be too much of a problem or get in his way.

Eirwen is the person he cares for. The one he loves and everything he does is to restore her. He’s not doing it so they can be together. He doesn’t expect her to love or forgive him if she gets her memories back. Eirwen is always watched by someone who serves him. He had mixed feelings about letting Solas get close to her, but he also knew the journey from stopping Corypheus would be too beneficial for restoring her soul. In order to save her, he has to let her live, let her experience the world, come into her own beliefs and opinions even if he disagrees. He values her independence.

The organizations he leaves behind aren’t reliant on him and could go on in his absence, which is what he prefers. The great irony of Falon’din is that those who serve him are loyal because they like him and prefer him to serving anyone else. He is exactly the monster Solas insists he is, there’s just more to him than meets the eye.

You can see other characters he likes, though. His current mother Deshanna and Sariel are examples. He won’t raise anyone from the dead or restore their immortality if he doesn’t believe they’ll prove useful to the goals of his people in the current Thedosian climate.

Kinks: Eirwen-sexual

If Falon’din engages in sex with someone who isn’t Eirwen, it’s rarely for pleasure and usually has some other purpose in mind. He’s partners generally leave satisfied, but he’s elusive and usually it feels like something is missing. (His emotions, his emotions are missing.)

With Eirwen, he’s completely different. Eirwen and her reincarnations are what he cares about. When he’s with her, “Love Me Like You Do” by Ellie Goulding starts playing in the background. Being around her is like breathing a sigh of relief and all the walls come down. He gets soft, and warm, and relaxed; which is very different from the careful, calculating, controlled Falon’din we usually see. You could probably consider him touch-starved, so he’s very snuggly and very touchy-feely. He’s content to just lie on a bed holding her, stroking her hair as she falls asleep.

For Falon’din, it is genuinely painful for him to be separated from Eirwen. He feels their separation deep in his soul, grating like sand sown into a wound. He’s never truly happy, never truly content. Unlike Dirthamen, he remembers watching Mythal and Elgar’nan use their combined powers to obliterate her and steal portions of her essence to empower themselves as they tore him apart. (Have I mentioned Falon’din despises Elvhenan?)

He becomes reminiscent to the being he was before Mythal and Elgar’nan, the great general who lived an exemplary life beloved by his people and his queen. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do if she was the one asking. That includes killing all the Magisters in Tevinter and the Black Divine, celebrating victory with sex on the throne. He’d also be perfectly content to leave the universe, seek adventures in the Fade beyond the reach of everyone and everything, and never have contact with Thedas again. However, during past reincarnations, when he didn’t have something necessary to accomplish and they did get married, they usually lived happy, content, comfortable lives.

- Michi

#falon'din #falon'din x lavellan #long post

[aardvark-123]

Gensokyo Festival Day 9: Eiki Shiki’s Personalised Guide to Self-Improvement

Too busy for an endless string of spell-card duels, our beloved yama has decided to put some of her wisdom into writing. I suggest you read it closely; even if you aren’t the person each section is targeting, you could learn something useful.

...No, she’s not standing over me with “Disrespecting a divine being” written on her Rod of Remorse. Why do you ask?

Reimu:

Stop pestering people for donations. A polite request is acceptable, but prolonged begging is obnoxious and discomforting.

Remember to ask questions before shooting. You are the natural rival of youkai, it is true, but that is no excuse to bully them without reason. With humans and other beings, take extra care that you do not attack them unless you truly must, since they can be more fragile than youkai.

On the other hand, try to avoid forming close friendships with youkai. Remember that you are a shrine maiden, not an aspiring jinyou.

Good work with that fortune teller, by the way.

Most importantly, please at least try to commune with the gods on a daily basis, and keep looking after the one who resides in your shrine. I will not hide the truth from you: If a high-ranking god is sufficiently fond of you, they might order me to allow you into Heaven or place you in their service as a Celestial. That is an unreliable and manipulative strategy, however, so I do not recommend it.

Marisa:

Stop lying. You lie so much that it has become a habit, your automatic first line of defence in almost any situation. Deception will ultimately do nothing but drive your friends away and destroy your reputation.

Stop stealing as well. Patchouli's books are her own, and nobody is going to take your claims of 'long-term borrowing' seriously. Give her back her books.

You must try to think about how your actions affect other people. The world does not resolve around you, and all the people you have burgled, assaulted, lied to, humiliated and sexually exploited deserved better. They are living people, not just your playthings.

Look, just... Just try harder, will you?

Sakuya:

Try to be a better friend to your fellow humans. Although far from ideal, the witch and the two shrine-maidens are decent people who have at least a vague fondness for you. Politeness costs nothing and can always brighten somebody's day.

Put some thought into your future. Although your power over time is impressive, it will not save you from the ultimate fate of all things. You can save yourself from a long sentence in Hell, but only if you are willing to apply yourself.

Try to become a positive influence on your employer. Remilia's sins are almost beyond measure, and even the many millenia she could live will barely be enough time for her to redeem herself.

Youmu:

Avoid spending too much time in the Land of the Dead.

At least try to take your role in life seriously. Your nature as a half-phantom is a gift, but it can very easily become a curse if you do not strive to balance the life and death inside you. Use the powers of your swords sparingly, your own power even sparinglier more carefully, and heed the wisdom of your mistress.

(I will ask her to make her advice easier to understand.)

Perhaps most importantly, have some faith in yourself. You are not perfect, but nobody is. You are a strong warrior and a talented gardener capable of great things. Do not lose yourself in a mire of self-doubt.

Reisen:

Apart from one large sin, you have lived a largely wholesome life, so keep it up. Be dutiful in your work. Be kind to your friends and colleagues, stand by them in times of hardship and war, and make the time to relax and have fun with them.

While carrots may be incredibly delicious to a rabbit, you must not allow yourself to become dependent. Carrot addiction has destroyed lives before, and no matter how certain you are that you can handle it, you probably cannot. Try to limit yourself to two carrots a day.

I probably do not need to remind you, but in the interest of thoroughness I shall. Do not desert a second time.

Cirno:

You would do well to learn some humility. Powerful you are, but there are many beings greater than you, and even a weaker fairy or youkai could defeat you with skill, determination and a small helping of good fortune. Do not let your strength become an obsession. In the end, what matter are the deeds you do, the friendships you make and the marks you leave on the world.

It is not a sin for a fairy to become a youkai, but I urge you to have caution. As a youkai, you will have a duty to scare humans, but you will also be able to die at their hands (and the hands of others). You must be willing to accept your own vulnerability and your need to cooperate with others, or else your career as a youkai will be brief.

If you remain a fairy, stop picking fights with everybody.

The Prismriver Sisters:

This is absolutely crucial: BELIEVE IN YOURSELVES. Each of you must find yourself a purpose for existing and then live out that purpose with all of your heart. Make that purpose a part of the very core of your being and become She who "Insert Purpose Here". Um, so to speak.

(Mainly for Merlin) In general, please try to act with kindness and dignity each day of your life. Being a good person costs nothing.

Mystia:

Concentrate on your surroundings and be mindful of other people. With the power you possess, it is vital that you avoid singing unless you know nobody will be harmed.

Your friend Kyouko is a practicing Budhhist, so please do not expose her to meat, alcohol, foul language and glorified violence. If you lead an innocent soul to Hell, you will almost certainly find yourself suffering alongside her.

Try to offer a range of vegetarian food in addition to lamprey. While you are unlikely to be punished for selling only fish-based meals, it would be courteous to allow your customers a choice.

Tewi:

Your attitude urgently needs to improve. Whether you admit it or not, you are a devious little madam who delights in causing chaos and misery. Your actions once led Reisen to contemplate suicide. If you cannot accept the consequences of your behaviour in this world, the consequences will most definitely be done to you in the next, and nobody will skimp on the lemon juice when they prepare your cactus bed after your week-long shift in the salt mines. So, seriously, put an end to the "harmless" pranks and start helping your fellows.

Also, flattering those who have authority over you will only make things worse.

Aya:

As a journalist, you have two of the greatest and most terrible powers of all: The power to create history and to manipulate the truth. It is best if you use the former only to tell the truth and never use the latter at all. Lying is not harmless fun, it is a terrible sin.

Try to exercise restraint while you investigate things. I have watched you win spell-card duels without once looking up from your notepad, and you are bound to cause a catastrophic accident sooner or later.

Frighten more humans as well.

Medicine:

You must let go of hatred and learn to embrace those around you. (Although, hopefully, not literally.) Your heart has been closed for too long. There are many good people in the world, many kind-hearted children who truly adore their dolls even if they do not recognise their personhood. Do not begrudge humans for what is in their nature. I, too, am trying to change that, and I know that anger will accomplish little.

Consider getting to know some of the stronger youkai and those immune to your poison. Do not approach them with fear or aggression and do not mask your true personality; instead, let them see the true Medicine Melancholy within. You will find that most strangers are merely friends who have not yet made you.

Yuuka:

Your pride and anger are both far too great. To the humans, you are almost a goddess of destruction; to the youkai, you are the foul-tempered older sister whom nobody really likes. The only true friend you have is the firefly youkai who pollinates your sunflowers. No matter how powerful you are, attacking everyone in your path is an act of pure evil which cannot easily be forgiven.

Remember that, no matter how much fun you may be having right now, violence and cruelty are never worth it. If you bring suffering to innocent people, you will suffer far worse treatment in time.

Also, contrary to your belief, I am not your rival. The only rival I have is sin itself.

Please, PLEASE do not try to become an embodiment of purest sin just so you can call yourself my rival.

Komachi:

Stop sleeping when there are departed souls in need of transportation. As inconvenient as it may be for you, people can die at any moment, and as a ferrywoman you must be ready to take to the water at any moment. The fate of the world rests on our actions, and there will be terrible consequences for every being if you do not pull your weight.

Laziness is a sin, and I will not let my inexplicable fondness for you stand in the way of an accurate judgement. Even you will die eventually, Komachi, and I have borne witness to many sins on your part. Just something to bear in mind when you go drinking tonight.

Speaking of which, there are many herbal teas for sale in the Human Village which will help you sleep soundly. Have you tried sleeping at night rather than through the afternoon, Komachi? Research has shown that diurnal shinigami are among the happiest and most productive.

Lies and flattery are not the way of an honourable shinigami; they are the way of a sinner. If you are to speak to me with respect (which I would strongly encourage), do it all the time, not only when you wish to curry favour. Lies and excuses will only make you look bad and erode my already-minimal trust in you.

A healthy, balanced diet is also important. Your great strength and stamina will not last if you continue to gorge yourself on beer and tempura, to say nothing of the marshmallows which you so endlessly devour.

I only have a large, warm chocolate pudding with a delicious molten centre every OTHER day, so please do not embarrass yourself by trying to shame me.

I have also seen you picking your nose. Do not try to deny it, you will only insult my intelligence and make yourself more likely to receive a harsh sentence when you die. It is disgusting and unhygenic. STOP IT.

Your love of erotic manga is more forgiveable, but I will confiscate any such volumes I find about your person while you are on duty. At least try to be professional.

One last thing, Komachi: When you are next in the Human Village, could you pick up some more parchment and a small barrel of rice? We seem to be running short. Tell them to charge it to the Ministry as usual.

#gensokyofestival #eiki shiki #touhou #listicle #please don't hit me lady eiki

[ninjasmart]

Thank you so muck for taking your time to answer my question. I was really worried that the black void met something even worse than 2020 would happen so I feel rather relieved but making decisions is not my strongest side so choosing sounds really scary in its own way. I always thought that ones entire life was pre-decided from the Above in some way but maybe I was wrong. Would you like to talk about your experience, how it happened to you, how did you knew and what did you do about it? /Thanks

First time was a tumor surgery. Everyone was saying I will go, I was dead sure I will not go. I was right. Back then I did not have the sensitivity that I have now so I was receiving my angel messages through people. The message I go was: “You live a second life now. How are you going to live it?” I didn’t know so I was thinking and thinking and my health within a month and a half deteriorated so much that I was a goner. I remember doing “hospital tours” - I make appointments to different doctors in different hospitals, clinics, private practices and I was going to at least 3 a day. 

They were all saying - you need a new surgery. I knew in my heart that if I go to another surgery I will die. I also was telling everyone: I have ordered a Christmas miracle. I’ll be all right by then. I remember praying a lot - not to get better but to find a solution to the health problem and to say yes to the second life. So, they say - don’t google your symptoms but they didn’t say - don’t google them after you’ve prayed. Anyway, it turned out the surgery had triggered extremely rare condition which masked a different autoimmune disease and well.. I self-diagnosed successfully the first one and on one of the tours I met a doctor who did not dismiss my self-diagnosis, looked at the vague symptoms and said - could be nothing but let’s test you for the autoimmune disease. He was right - 4 says before Christmas I was admitted into hospital, 1 day before Christmas I was released and with the pills they gave me, by new year I will stabilized. 

Then I turned into what I knew - work, work, work. I had a manager who was a real abuser when it comes to workload and personal life. I did not have any time for it. When the appendix burst I was fitting the workload of 3 people into a 90 hour work week, no personal life, and an entry level salary. When I was admitted into hospital I did something that was heartbreaking. I said good bye to everyone who was close to me. I was afraid I will not wake up. They were all thinking I am crazy. Turned out - clinical death, blood too thin, complications, burnt marks on my body. The anesthesiologist came to see me after that. She said: We did not think you’ll make it. During that surgery I do not have memory either. However, before it I knew my life is in the balance, I knew that something had to drastically change, I knew that whether I’ll stay or I’ll go is going to be decided by someone else.

After that surgery I stopped being slave to corporate America. The question I had in my mind was: Are you willing to give your life for it? And the answer was: no. Each year I have my surgery dates as a personal - second birth days. Mind you, I’ve had a few more near death experiences, there is a difference between near death and Exit point. In Exit points you know that you absolutely cannot continue like you were before - you either make 180 or you go home. 

The third exit point was quite recently. I have to check my dreams diary to see when exactly it was but it’s besides the point. It was a time when I had forgotten my daily prayer practice. I was too busy, too many things to do. This is when I started having dreams. In those dreams I was having conversations. Different people, different situations - all of them wanted to know: what is my worth as earthling, why am I now doing my mission. It felt like a tribunal, like my soul was questioned and again, the decision was not done by me, someone else had the plug in their hands, I was simply allowed to make my case and have a clear answer to: What will you do if you’re going to stay? 

Mind you, I’ve always been a lazy person when it comes to doing the real work for the Divine. The tribunal gave me a chance to defend myself and see if I will be lazy no more. I was given the chance to work for the Divine. I haven’t accomplished much, or greater things or anything, but I am content that I do focus on that direction more and more and that I am not the same person. I have a heightened sense of Truth, I can see where things originated and where they are going. 

I am also mindful that I follow the laws. Having said that I did break a spiritual law today. There are these people who stole my identity, tried to steal my property, now they are trying to make fool of the courts and get payments from me based on falsified documents. It did not go well for them in court but there has been strange things happening in the house lately. Both my tenant and I confirmed that they have done something to my rental place and today I did something. Not sure how I feel about it. I’ll sleep on it and if I dream it’s right, I’ll do it again tomorrow. Endangering my tenant ( even though she’s more powerful than me) is crossing the line in my book. They didn’t get anything from their evil scheming plans so now they are cursing my place ... oh well. In the immortal words of Gengis khan: Do not anger slow to anger person.

[mazurah]

Lost in Time Ch. 8: Blade - An Elder Scrolls Fanfic

Chapter Summary: Ma’zurah and Fayrl steal a key.

Cross posted from Ao3. Chapter Rating: M for mild sexual situations and mild self harm/religious bloodletting.

First Chapter - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Lost in Time Chapter 8: Blade

When the voice of Mephala subsided, Fayrl’s knees buckled under him, and he dropped to the stone floor with a thud. He stared at the door for a moment, still trying to understand what had happened.

“I am to be Mephala’s Champion? I…”

Fayrl moved forward, grasping at the door handle and pulled on it, but it did not move.

He turned to Ma'zurah, clasping both of her hands in his. “We must find the boy and get this door open. If there is a purpose to our being here, we should endeavor to complete it with haste. Perhaps that is why we were both brought here, by the fate of the Three. I still do not understand it.”

He laughed suddenly. “You are of far more importance in this than am I. If Mephala wishes me to act as your second, then I shall gladly take up the charge. So long as she wills it, I will serve you with loyalty.” His eyes darted away. “It may not always be easy for me. Probably not for you either. But know that your goals are now mine.”

Ma'zurah sat in a daze, trying to sort through mixed emotions. She still struggled with the physical euphoria of being praised by a god, but… “This means we are not going back.” she whispered. “Ma'zurah thought she was done with prophecies…”

“Wait, what?“ Fayrl had been too caught up in the idea of becoming Mephala’s Champion to have registered that. “What do you mean we aren’t going back? Surely if we complete this task we will be returned.” He had to try hard to keep the tinge of panic from his voice.

Ma'zurah stood slowly, blinking at her surroundings as though seeing them for the first time. She reached out a hand to assist Fayrl to his feet.

“She named Fayrl Champion ‘in this age’, and warned Ma'zurah of a task bigger than one god can assign. Ma'zurah is already the Champion of Azurah. If gods are assigning their Champions to assist each other with tasks, there must be something truly huge occurring. We are not going back…”

Fayrl shook his head. “No. Just because we have a big task to accomplish does not mean we are not going to be going back.” He refused to believe that he would never see those he loved again. That he would have missed the whole of his son’s life. That he would not have been there for Avon the next time his parents attempted to marry him off. That he would not help in the protection of his land or people. He would never accept that he would not see his daelekil or little Khes again. “We will be their Champions here, then we will return to our time and continue where we left off. Who knows, I might still be alive somewhere in your time. I would love to have you visit me.”

Ma'zurah laughed bitterly. “You would be over seven hundred years old. Ma'zurah has only met a few mer who have achieved that kind of age, and they were all wizards of great power. Telvanni. It is not likely. And if you are to be Champion in this age, you are not to be Champion in your own. Ma'zurah knows… she knows what it is like to be the plaything of the gods.”

Ma'zurah shuddered and closed her eyes, pushing the intrusive remembrance of the deep knell of huge bells from her mind. “What a fool you are. I’m a god. What a grand and intoxicating innocence. How could you be so naive? There is no escape!” Voryn taunted from her memories. “My people look upon the elements, and see there written a divine testament to my Lordship!” Ayem unhelpfully added. No, she told the memories. Be silent. They are dead–dead and gone and divorced from power. She brought to mind Azurah’s benevolent smile instead, but the memory felt colder than it once had. Ma'zurah took a deep breath and opened her eyes again.

Fayrl saw the dark look come over Ma'zurah and decided a distraction was in order. “You do not give me near enough credit,” he bemoaned. “Why, I heard tale of a devout follower of Mephala who was granted life more than twice that. They say she had served so well that she was allowed to absorb the youth of each of those she gave unto Mephala.” He sighed wistfully. “If I am granted the role of Champion, even if only in this time, there is reason enough to believe in the hope of the strange and rare coming to pass.” He had to believe it was true. To give up on that hope was too painful. They still did not yet understand their situation enough to make any sort of assumptions.

Ma'zurah shook her head. “We need to hurry. Only fools keep the Princes waiting.” Ma'zurah took Fayrl’s hand again and cast invisibility on them both. Following a sudden a playful impulse, Fayrl scooped Ma'zurah easily into his arms, “Allow me,” he said, carrying her through the kitchens, half dancing out of the way of the servants moving about.

Ma'zurah stifled a squeak and clung to Fayrl’s neck until he delivered her safely to the main hall. He set her down out of sight of the kitchens behind a column, and the invisibility spell wore off. “I am to serve you, you should make good use of all of my skills, Nerevarine.” He winked at her.

Ma'zurah gave Fayrl an indignant glare. “What in all the Mundus does Fayrl think he is doing?!”

Fayrl gave her a goofy smile. “I simply wish to make things easier on you. There’s no harm in that, is there?”

Before Ma'zurah had the opportunity to respond, a small figure darted to their side, and an eager Nelkir looked up at them. “You’re back! What did she say? Will she talk to me again?”

Fayrl looked down at the boy, belatedly realizing that he had forgotten in his excitement to ask about the boy. Or about anything else for that matter. Talking to gods often left one a bit disoriented or focused on other things.

“Ah, Nelkir!” Fayrl said smoothly, “She told me she needed me to fulfill a task before anything else. A task which she told me she needs your help to complete.” He leaned down so he could whisper. “You are to show us how to open the door the Lady is behind. She said you are the only one we can trust to tell us how to open it.”

“Really? She said that?” Nelkir gave an excited bounce. “They put magic on the door. There’s only one way to open it, and that’s with a key. There are only two keys–my father has one, and Farengar, the wizard, has the other. If I could have gotten a key, I would have done it already, but they keep the keys on them all the time. Maybe you can do something though.” The boy paused and grinned darkly. “If you can’t get the key off Farengar, you could just get rid of him. No one will miss Farengar. I promise you.”

Fayrl exchanged a look with Ma’zurah. “You are eager to see blood?” he asked the boy. “If it is mere blood you wish for, there can be better sport than that. A court wizard will be too noticeable.” He dropped his voice. “Besides, he may have more valuable secrets.”

Fayrl straightened and glanced about. “The best ones to kill are those who truly deserve death. Those who commit the most vile of sins. Those who do the world more harm than good by being in it. That is how you make people overlook it. Kill a murderer or a rapist, and as long as you are careful, you can always claim self defense. But only ever take a life if it is necessary. Senseless bloodshed comes back to get you,” Fayrl warned. Nelkir looked awed at Fayrl’s advice. Ma'zurah looked amused. She shook her head and glanced around the hall to regain her bearings. The tables were empty now, and only one servant remained, clearing the last of the cutlery. The hall looked darker, and through the high windows near the roof, Ma'zurah could see that twilight had dimmed the atmosphere. Azurah’s hour.

“Bo iso jai mor di pala q'zi tsin'ra vaba traajirka,” Ma'zurah murmured quietly to the stars winking at her in the gathering dusk through the tiny windows, “aqir suneja dov'kono vaba nuruj dena. Durravar tohe'i Nirni ako teko'i tenurr; buno kerin zalkavi di Azurah, an etofa vabase vakona di aqir.”

But on the most dark of days when all is taken, light hearts never are left behind. Worship through Nirni’s firey night; bow within the Temple of Azurah, and there will be a vision of light.

Ma'zurah smiled softly to herself.

Fayrl stared at her. Ta’agra always sounded so lovely to his ears, though he spoke it not at all. Sure, he had picked up the odd idea of what some words meant. He’d heard Qau-dar hiss ‘Sheggori mer’ under his breath enough times to understand the meaning. But as for anything more substantial, he had no means of understanding. Azura’s name and the word for Nirn was all he could glean from her words, hardly anything of use if she was trying to give him instruction.

Nelkir gave Ma'zurah a puzzled look before turning back to Fayrl. “Farengar is over there.” He pointed across the hall. “What should I do to help?”

Fayrl returned his attention back to Nelkir. “Do you happen to know if the wizard keeps the key in his pocket or around his neck?” Fayrl knew it was risky to try to seduce a wizard blindly. If he could get any clues, he might be able to work something out, perhaps with Ma’zurah’s assistance.

“Um… on a chain around his neck I think,” the boy responded hesitantly. Ma'zurah looked away from the patch of twilight, back to Fayrl. “Ma'zurah knows some spells. Chameleon and silence. It may be better to wait for him to be asleep and try it then. In the meantime, Ma'zurah would at least like to talk to the wizard.”

Fayrl thought for a moment. “Ma’zurah, do you still have the vial I gave you earlier?”

Ma'zurah nodded and dipped her hand into an inner pocket of her robe to produce the small vial.

Fayrl grinned. “Then getting him to sleep isn’t going to be a problem.”

He nodded to himself as the plan took shape in his mind. “Could you give the vial to Nelkir, Ma'zurah?” Fayrl asked.

Ma'zurah raised an eyebrow at Fayrl, but handed the vial to the boy.

Leaning down, Fayrl stared the boy directly in the eye. “You will have the most important task. When I give the signal, you will need to drop the contents of the liquid onto the wizard. But you must be careful not to let any of it touch you, or Ma’zurah or I, do you understand?”

Nelkir nodded seriously to Fayrl. “What is the signal? What do I do until you give the signal?”

“Stay somewhere very close by, where you can listen. I know you are good at that or the Lady would not have chosen you. When you hear me say, ‘good sera, can I ask you about a potion of a more personal nature?’, that is when you should make sure to drop the potion on him.” He straightened again. “Your method is up to you to choose. And I will ensure that if something goes wrong, you will not be harmed. Now, do the Lady proud and we shall all have a reward.”

The boy flashed Fayrl a wicked grin. “Got it.” He casually walked over to a shelf by the door to the wizard’s rooms and began flipping through a book.

Fayrl felt confident that the boy and his drive to succeed would serve them well. Perhaps the task would help to encourage his faith. And learning responsibility at a young age was so important.

Ma'zurah’s eyes glinted with mischief, but she composed her face into a picture of innocence, walked to the wizard’s doorway, and rapped on the frame to get his attention.

Farengar turned at the noise. “Good evening. Are you the assistant the Jarl promised me to help with my research? It is rather late, but I suppose the sooner we are introduced the better.”

Ma'zurah blinked. “Ah, apologies, but no. Ma'zurah was told that the court wizard is the best person in Whiterun to consult for things of a magical nature. Ma'zurah is doing some research, and was looking for information about Dragons. She was also hoping to consult a local Almanac, and perhaps the court wizard has some history books this one might borrow?”

Farengar looked confused. “You’re here for information about Dragons and you aren’t the assistant the Jarl promised me? Perhaps this is the divines answering my prayers. I had thought this damnable conflict had claimed everyone’s attentions. But then just this afternoon the Jarl sent for me and told me there were rumored sightings of Dragons in the next hold over and two alleged survivors had already made their way into our city.” He finished fiddling with his enchantment and turned properly towards her, starting in surprise when he noticed Fayrl standing silently behind her. “My apologies. I will help with what I can, but I have very little time. As I am always being reminded by everyone here, who haven’t the slightest clue about scholarship or magic, there is a time limit on everything. As if you can put a limit on arcane knowledge.”

“This one thanks the court wizard. And, ah… actually, these two are the survivors of the Dragon attack. That is why Ma'zurah wanted information about Dragons. Is the court wizard researching Dragons?”

The wizard straightened up. “Ah, I see. So you have come from the Jarl. I will need you to help with my research. I will of course assist however I can, provided you are able to assist me in turn. I have a long list of questions that only you two might be able to answer.” He hurriedly rummaged around through the drawers of his desk until he found some parchment and a quill, taking a seat at the desk.

He abruptly stood back up. “My apologies, in my haste I did not introduce myself, I am Farengar Secret-Fire, the Jarl’s wizard, though he calls my research puttering. Might I have the names of yourself and your companion?” He waited, his quill posed to take notes.

Ma'zurah blinked. “Uh… this one is called Ma’zurah, but Ma'zurah was not sent by the Jarl. She came on her own. Ma'zurah would really just like to borrow some books about Dragons, some history books, and to check an almanac.”

Nelkir stealthily poked his head around the corner, and crept around the edge of the wall while Farengar was writing Ma'zurah’s name. He made his way behind the court wizard, and hid under the alchemy table.

The wizard frowned and glanced up. “You only came for the books?”

He set his quill into the inkpot. “Do you have no questions for me? I have been studying Dragon lore for the better part of my career. And I have so many questions for you.”

Fayrl moved forward to the wizard’s desk. “We came to you precisely because we had heard of your expertise in the topic. Do you have anything in your years of research that might help us to understand what we saw? We are happy to exchange information for information.”

Ma'zurah sighed and exchanged a surreptitious glance with the boy under the alchemy table and began looking around the room for books that might be useful. She spotted three books with the word ‘Dragon’ in the title on the wizard’s desk, and a copy of the Third Era Timeline on a bookshelf to her left.

Fayrl’s words seemed to return some strength to the wizard. “I think we can work out a deal. May I have your name please?” He picked back up his quill.

“My name is Fayrl Alari,” Fayrl replied with a slight bow. “A pleasure to meet someone so well learned in history and magic. I worried I might not be so lucky as to find intellectual conversation. Thank you for the opportunity.”

Something close to a smile, or at least, it was not a frown, came over the man’s face. “Thank you Fayrl. I suppose since you have been so kind as to answer one of my questions, I shall answer one of yours.”

Fayrl gestured to Ma’zurah. “My dear, why don’t you ask the first question.”

Ma'zurah looked frustrated for a second as she contemplated her options. Her most urgent questions could only be answered by books, else it would spark more questions about why she did not already know the information.

Her brow cleared suddenly as she recalled something. “Do Dragons talk? Ma'zurah thought she heard it speak.”

Farengar held up his finger and walked to his shelves, searching until he found the volume he was looking for, “Dragon Language: Myth no More”. He flipped through the pages, then set it down before her on the top of his pile of notes.

“They do indeed. In this volume Hela Thrice-Versed has written down some of the Dragon speech and translated portions of text. Fascinating things! And you said you heard the Dragon speak!” He pulled out his book and began to take notes. “Can you recall what it was that it said? Or perhaps what it might have sounded like?”

Ma'zurah shook her head. “No… Ma'zurah was too busy trying to survive to remember any words.”

She ran her fingers across the Dovahzul runes. The thought gave her pause. Dovahzul, where did that word come from? Why was it familiar? The runes seemed like they should be so easy to read if only she had the key. Just one tiny, crucial piece of knowledge.

Farengar nodded. “A shame, I would have been very interested in that. If you want to know more of the Dragon language, the Greybeards are the ones to ask, they speak the Dragon tongue. Though, few pilgrims manage to make it all the way up the seven thousand steps to High Hrothgar.”

Fayrl looked at Ma’zurah seeing how much more information she might want to glean from the wizard before he gave the signal.

“Do you have another question then?”

Ma'zurah shook her head, as though to clear it. “Ma'zurah knows almost nothing about the Dragons. She would like to read up on the basics. She can return with more questions tomorrow. Would Master Farengar please just recommend some books for Ma'zurah?”

Farengar pointed to a stack of books across the room. “If you want, I have a couple of books on Dragons themselves. There is a copy of ‘The Dragon War’ and “There be Dragons” somewhere amongst the other history books. And somewhere on the shelf is ‘The Oblivion Crisis’, perhaps beside that volume of ‘The Red Year’? It has a brief section about Akatosh, though that may not be exactly what you are looking for. Please feel free to look through any of the other histories I have there.”

He dipped his quill. “Would you mind describing the behavior of this Dragon when you saw it? Or perhaps the situation concerning its arrival?”

Ma'zurah gathered the books Farengar had mentioned and put them in a small stack while she described the arrival of the great black Dragon and the beginning of their flight from Helgen.

“There is really not much else to tell. It made a noise like a thousand durzog screaming at once in an echoing canyon, and its voice could be heard well before we even saw the creature. Ma'zurah does not relish the thought of encountering it again.” Ma'zurah shrugged.

Farengar took hurried notes. His face lit up with every scrap of new information, and he muttered exclamations of “fascinating” and “interesting” under his breath as he scrawled it all out. When he was done he looked back up. “Was there anything else you wanted to know?”

Fayrl glanced at Ma’zurah. If she was done, he was ready to let the boy have his chance to prove himself.

“Maybe tomorrow. Ma'zurah needs to research…” Ma'zurah picked up another book and added it to her small stack.

Farengar nodded. “Then I have another question for you.”

“Oh, I do have a question, actually, if you don’t mind,” Fayrl said.

Farengar raised an eyebrow. “Go ahead.”

Fayrl smiled sheepishly and walked closer to the wizard, leading the man away from Ma’zurah toward the alchemy table where Nelkir was waiting. He enunciated carefully. “Good sera, can I ask you about a potion of a more personal nature?”

Nelkir had been waiting patiently, and he broke into a predatory grin at the sound of the signal. He unstoppered the vial and carefully crept up behind the wizard. Fayrl had the wizard’s full attention, so he tipped the contents of the vial onto Farengar’s hand–one of the few exposed patches of skin.

Fayrl grinned as he saw the flash of movement. Nelkir was surprisingly nimble and managed to give the wizard a solid direct dose.

“Watch what you are doing with my potions,” cried the wizard, trying to discern what had gotten all over his hand. He grabbed up a cloth by his work station and began to wipe his hand clean, but already it was obvious that the effects were taking hold. He seemed unstable on his feet.

“Oh, pardon me, I am feeling a bit light-headed.” Farengar slid into a nearby chair. “Just give me a moment, please.”

The man set his head in his hands and leaned against the table. He began to slump, his breathing evening out. After a moment, his light snores could be heard.

Fayrl set a small stack of books under the wizard’s head, then slipped his hands under the man’s robes and fished out the key. He showed it to Nelkir. “You have done wonderfully, Nelkir.” He grinned at the boy. “You have a lot of potential. I hope that you continue to grow and learn.”

Nelkir stood straighter at the praise, practically glowing. He gingerly returned the empty vial to Fayrl.

Ma'zurah tucked the stack of books into her pack and gestured for the others to follow. “If we move quickly, we can return the key before he notices it is gone. How long does the potion last?”

Fayrl pocketed the empty vial and a couple of alchemy reagents. “It should give us about two hours. We should have plenty of time to get to the door and replace the key.”

He started out the door, holding his hand out for Ma’zurah’s. “Shall we head back, my fellow Champion? I am happy to carry you if you’d like.”

Ma'zurah shot Fayrl a disdainful look, and vanished from sight. Nelkir squeaked in startlement, then laughed as he caught sight of the slight distortion of air where Ma'zurah had been. He walked after her, trying, and only sometimes succeeding, to keep her in sight. He peeked into the kitchen. There was only one servant left.

Assuming an innocent expression, the boy walked up to the cook’s assistant. “I’m hungry!”

The servant clicked her tongue at him. “Young Master Nelkir! You should really be in bed by now!” She started to herd the boy back upstairs, leaving the path to the basement clear of all observers.

Fayrl gave a small nod of thanks to the departing Nelkir, and then made himself invisible to follow after Ma'zurah. He hurried down the stairs to the locked door. The key felt hot in his sweating hand, and he was as giddy as a child. There was certainly a mystery behind the locked door. What could he possibly be about to discover? He desperately longed to know this secret.

He became visible again beside the locked door, his heart racing. He could hardly catch his breath.

Ma'zurah appeared beside Fayrl, grinning. “What are you waiting for? Open it!”

Fayrl needed no other encouragement. He set the key into the lock and turned it, pulling the door open with his other hand.

A rush of air came surging out of the door for one instant after the door opened, as if something had burst forth from behind it, though there was no sign of anything having left. Fayrl took shaky steps forward as he saw, by the light of the smoky torch in the hall, a long ebony katana sitting on the table in the center of the room. His breath hitched, his eyes stinging. He knew well what the blade was. Could he possibly be worthy of such a weapon?

“My Prince,” he breathed, hesitant to reach out and take it.

Ma'zurah took in the bare, dark room containing a table with a folded piece of paper, and a black sword that seemed to be of Akaviri origin–an ebony dai-katana. She walked forward and picked up the paper, held it at an angle so Fayrl could read, and summoned a palmful of fire to read by.

“To anyone reading this: BEWARE THIS BLADE It is hoped that the only people having access to this room should be the Jarl of Whiterun and his trusted wizard. If anyone else is reading this, please understand the magnitude of your folly, turn around, and never even speak of this room or this blade to anyone. It has corrupted and perverted the desires of great men and women. Yet its power is without equal—to kill while your victim smiles at you. Only a daedra most foul could have concocted such a malevolent and twisted weapon. But it appears that all who wield it end up with the crazed eyes of those wild men who roam the hills chattering with rabbits. It is not to be trifled with. Not even the hottest fires of the Skyforge could melt it; indeed the coals themselves seemed to cool when it was placed within. We cannot destroy it, and we would not have it fall into the hands of our enemies. So we keep it, hidden, dark and deep within Dragonsreach, never to be used. Woe be to any who choose to take it.”

Mephala’s voice returned, closer this time. Ma'zurah gave a soft gasp at the unexpected wash of emotion. “As you may notice, the description of the sword does not match the appearance of my Ebony Blade. Its power has waned through long disuse. Take it, my Champion, and let it drink the blood of deceit. Wash the crafted god’s blood in the spilled blood of mortals! It will nourish you further as you fulfill its true potential!”

Fayrl moved, trance-like after hearing the voice. His hands clasped around the hilt of the sword and the scabbard. He drew the blade towards him. “Yes, my Prince. I shall restore it to its former glory.”

In an instant the blade was unsheathed in his hand. “We should not demand of others that which we are not prepared to give ourselves.”

He turned to Ma’zurah. “I hope you have a healing potion.” He brought the blade down across his arm. There was almost no pain, in fact, it filled him with a sort of ecstasy to be cut by it. As his arm began to drip, he turned the blade this way and that, coating the ebony completely.

Ma'zurah snarled as Fayrl brought the blade down on his arm. Mephala’s laughter filled the room, but Ma'zurah only grabbed Fayrl’s arm and summoned a healing spell. The cut was gone before Ma'zurah put more than a pittance of magicka into the spell. Fayrl breathed a sigh of relief.

“ Wafiit ! Are you touched in the head? That is not how that works!” Ma'zurah lightly smacked Fayrl over the head. “Ebony is the Heart’s blood of Lorkhaj! The Ebony Blade requires mortal heart’s blood from a betrayed victim! Your wafa ma'i ketra does not give it either! Do not do that again!”

“I knew it was said to absorb health, but I was not sure if it would work if you cut yourself.” Fayrl gave Ma'zurah a bright smile. “But look how much happier it looks with a fresh coat of blood on it? I did not wish for it to lose any more power. Hopefully that snack will hold it over until I can give it a better drink.”

Fayrl reached out and took Ma'zurah’s hand. “Thank you,” he said, and lifted her hand to his mouth to kiss the back of it. Now that we have recovered this relic, where shall we go to give it strength? Shall I ask Nelkir about the criminals of the city? I am sure I could make Whiterun a safer place.”

Ma'zurah smacked her face in frustration. “Heart’s blood, sheggorriit , from a betrayed victim–as in, they have to trust you, or it does nothing. And we have more important things to do at this exact moment.”

Ma'zurah pulled away from Fayrl and sank to her knees, placing her hands palms upward atop her thighs. “Clan Mother Mafala, this one begs the wisdom of your secret knowledge, what should this one do next?”

Mephala’s laugh again echoed through the room. “So formal! If you desire more guidance, I am sure My Sister and Sister-Brother, and many other Siblings besides will provide for you against the coming storm. We all have a stake in this weaving, even the Corners in their own way.”

“And what should this one tell the boy?” Ma'zurah asked. “He desires to be a follower.”

“We shall see how he weaves his own fate. Perhaps he may yet prove himself worthy. Take heed, children. Be wary, be watchful, and know that the Spinner spins ever for the faithful.”

Fayrl whispered the Chimeris prayer of thanks the Farseer had taught him, then bowed low. “Thank you, my Prince. I will not disappoint you.”

Fayrl’s body felt hot, almost feverish. He knew what they needed to do, but his desires tugged at him. The sense of presence faded, and Fayrl sighed. “Shall we get this key back where it goes and slip out before any guards notice?” he asked Ma’zurah.

Ma'zurah nodded. She shut the door behind them, and waited for Fayrl to lock it, then led the way up the stairs and back to the wizard’s rooms. Nelkir ran back up to the pair. “What did I miss? What did she say?” he asked eagerly.

Fayrl smiled as he gingerly lifted the wizard’s head and slipped the key back around his neck. “She says she is looking forward to you proving yourself more and more as you get older, Nelkir. You must work hard to learn the truth of her name and nature, to not be led astray by falsehoods. The Lady’s nature is ever changing, and she will throw many challenges at you. Know that she places value upon cleverness and on making the right decision in difficult situations. Only through overcoming the struggles in life can you find your purpose.”

Fayrl’s hand twitched upon the hilt of the Ebony Blade. The wizard was a man who had trusted them. He would be worthy of being the first to wet the blade. To kill him would start to bring this sacred sword back to life, to extend the power of his Prince that much further.

He looked over to Ma’zurah. How would she feel if he were to take a life in front of her? He could give the child a task outside of the room so he would not have to witness the murder. It was still too early for him to witness such things.

Fayrl stroked the hilt of the sword, turning from Ma’zurah back to the wizard, still gently slumbering. He stared at the exposed back of the man’s neck. He was so vulnerable. It would be so simple.

Ma’zurah did not notice Fayrl’s wavering as she knelt in front of the boy. “Ma’zurah is sure the Jarl has you learning from many excellent tutors. You should learn as much as possible from them, especially about other cultures. There is value in skepticism, but you must also keep your mind open to new ideas. Remember, all knowledge is worth having, for knowledge is power in the right hands. You must prove yourself worthy to the Lady, show that you are capable of wielding secrets as tools if you truly wish to follow her. She can be a hard and demanding mistress, but so are all gods in this one’s experience.”

The boy nodded earnestly, his face a mixture of emotions. “That means I have to prove myself before she will speak to me again, doesn’t it?” “Quite likely. But do not be discouraged. She called you spirited, and Ma’zurah thinks that is a good sign.”

The boy smiled.

End Notes:

Ta'agra Translations: http://www.taagra.com/ Sheggori mer = crazy mer wafiit = idiot wafa ma'i ketra = stupid childish play sheggorriit = crazy person (literally ‘one who crazies’)

Ma'zurah’s prayer to Azura is inspired by one found in the mod Tamriel Rebuilt for Morrowind: http://www.tamriel-rebuilt.org The Ta’agra translation had to be significantly modified. The original text reads:

“But on the grimmest of days when all has been taken, let hope never be forsaken. Invoked through Nirn’s fiery night, kneel upon the shrine of Azura and let there be a glimpse of light.”

Fayrl’s tumblr: @talldarkandroguesome

Fayrl’s husband, Qau-dar, belongs to @warmsandstraveler. Fayrl’s author has an ongoing, publically available RP going with him and several other people in an alternate timeline in which nobody gets lost in time.

You can read the journal of Fayrl’s ‘brother’, Avon, at @avon-m-dunaag. He participates in the ongoing, publically available RP with Fayrl, though his updates are not nearly as frequent.

Screenshot of Fayrl Screenshot of Ma’zurah Check out my art tag for more pictures of Fayrl and Ma’zurah.

Constructive criticism is welcome. We also really like it if you leave comments on Ao3.

#tes #elder scrolls lore #skyrim #eso #morrowind #my writing #fanfic #lost in time tes fanfic #fayrl indoril #ma'zurah the khajiit #Rated M

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FEATURE: Head Space - "Gabriel DropOut" Virtuoso of Villainy, Satania

Where most moe girl slice of life series follow a cast of ordinary characters either enjoying life's simple things or striving for greatness, Gabriel DropOut stands out for featuring an extraordinary cast in the midst of very mundane failure. It tells the story of of angels and demons just don't fit into their preordained roles in the conflict between Heaven and Hell. While this could be a considered a complex dialogue on individuals struggling against the circumstances of their birth, it’s more likely just a comedy about people who are terrible at their jobs. In this narrative dynamic, it may be tempting to say that Satania comes out on the short end for working so diligently but finding the same amount of success as people who are actively avoiding their obligations but, in a story focusing on failures, I argue that Satania stands head and shoulders above her peers. A spectacular tragedy that shines brighter than all others. Where Gabriel and Vigne are unable to perform their duties because they can’t reconcile themselves with their roles in the world, Satania fails entirely on her own terms and embraces what she is. Satania is an unparalleled villain in her heart.

Gabriel is a self-described fallen angel, content to play videogames and avoid her responsibilities for the rest of eternity, claiming that she was simply denying her true nature when she existed as the proudest aspiring angel in heaven. Vigne is a demon utterly incapable of even contemplating evil deeds, preferring to support others and live a wholesome a productive life, causing one to wonder how she even made it through school in hell. Raphe might be the devil incarnate, a sadist who takes no greater pleasure then relentlessly tormenting the weak and putting others into compromising situations while she watches them unravel, who was unfortunately born(?) an angel. Even the seemingly innocent angel Tapris has an unhealthy obsession with Gabriel which has been hinted at being less than chaste. Despite their apocalyptic power, each of them seems satisfied with a life of mundanity and the pursuit of pleasures at odds with their true nature. Their lack of aspiration reflects their dim prospects for the future. Not so for Satania, who will settle for nothing less than becoming the queen of Hell itself.

Despite the latitude the girls are offered in acting directly against their divine roles in their time on Earth, it has become apparent there are some expectations regarding their activity. In the first episode Vigne warns Gabriel that if she continues on her road of unchecked indulgence, she would be called back to heaven. A brief glimpse of Gabriel’s tar-soaked halo also indicated some metaphysical ramifications to her selfish life of squalor. The most recent episode implied a more active process of review as both Gabriel and Vigne’s monthly stipends were reduced. Since it doesn’t seem like tormenting demons earns you any points in heaven given Gabriel’s deduction, it’s safe to assume Raphe isn’t receiving much either. While the purpose of this MacGuffin was for an episode following Vigne’s awkward attempts to act evil, it also demonstrated Satania’s value as a member of her proud demonic race. In the very same episode, like luminaries before her such as the great Wile E. Coyote himself, Satania mail-ordered a ridiculously expensive .44 revolver to make clever use of in one of her schemes. Their allowance must be based on intent rather than outcome, but Satania's expendable income is proof that someone values her efforts.

Although Satania’s results are mediocre, she refuses to settle for mediocrity. She attacks her work with everything she has, living and breathing her role as a demon. Satania spent an entire morning flying into the depths of hell to collect a demon fish for a mere school cooking assignment. She shamelessly proclaims her status as a lord of the underworld with in complete seriousness where lesser demons like Vigne would literally expire from embarrassment. She proudly defies the laws of humans such as school dress codes and class conduct and sows discord by celebrating those who do the same. Her pleasure at having the upper hand in an exchange with angels is obvious as she lords her position as a patron over Gabriel by forcing her to serve coffee, even photographing Gabriel to commemorate the moment. So consumed is Satania with her work that she doesn’t have the time to make friends, forcing her to eat her lunches alone. This suits her just fine, friends would be nothing more than a distraction from her grand designs and inappropriate of a demon whose sole source of pleasure is the suffering of others.

Although she is still young, Satania already has a growing list of accomplishments, having faced off against three angels, Gabriel on multiple occasions, and tasted sweet victory over two of them. Despite their antagonistic relationship with the angels Satania has cleverly integrated herself into their social group to gather information and keep them nearby should an opportunity to earned another victory for her race arise, even using her close contact to surreptitiously take compromising photos of Gabriel (which is actually pretty evil) to later taunt Tapris. Sure she may be the regular victim of Raphe’s pranks, lose to Gabriel far more than she wins, and remains in a constant state of fear that a mundane dog will steal her lunch, but Satania remains undeterred by her defeats and schemes onward.

Even if you don’t appreciate her work, it cannot be denied that Satania is a true virtuoso of villainy. Sure, she is unquestionably the most awkward, tragic mess among the girls of Gabriel DropOut, capable of only the most rudimentary schemes and woefully ill-equipped not only for the life of a demon but even the more mundane existence of a mortal, but she doesn’t let that bother her. Her plans may be rudimentary but her execution is as impassioned as the greatest performers. It’s as if she is entirely unaware unaware of her own shortcomings in pursuit of excellence. Many artists go unappreciated in their lifetimes and this may be Satania’s fate, but she is a demon to her core, dedicated to her craft, and basically the only character in Gabriel DropOut who is willing to actually do their job.

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Peter Fobian is an Associate Features Editor for Crunchyroll and author of Monthly Mangaka Spotlight. You can follow him on Twitter @PeterFobian.

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[carterconlon]

The Responsibilty of Little Strength by Carter Conlon

Download PDF of The Responsibilty of Little Strength

"And to the angel of the church in Philadelphia write, 'These things says He who is holy, He who is true, He who has the key of David, He who opens and no one shuts, and shuts and no one opens: I know your works. See, I have set before you an open door, and no one can shut it; for you have a little strength'"(Revelation 3:7–8).

I believe that just like this church in Philadelphia, the Church in America today has only "a little strength." We are not nearly as strong or powerful as many of us would like to believe. Our voices have been largely marginalized and we have been cast out as "salt to be trodden underfoot," as godlessness seemingly has the upper hand (see Matthew 5:13). However, I believe that the beginning of a spiritual awakening comes from having the humility to finally admit our true condition rather than boasting of what we are not.

Furthermore, we can be encouraged because Jesus says in this passage, "I have set before you an open door that no one can close" (see Revelation 3:8). In other words, "I am inviting you into a place where the impossible becomes possible. It is a place where you will win a battle that you could never win in your own strength."

It is critical that we hear this today, for we are in the midst of an intense battle—a battle for the souls of the people of this nation and a battle for the future of a society. Just to clarify, this battle is not between Republican and Democrat or Libertarian. Yes, they have the ability, in measure, to give or take away hope for the future. However, there is a much deeper battle going on, a battle that, according to the Scriptures, is not against flesh and blood but against powers, principalities, and spiritual wickedness in high places (see Ephesians 6:12). We must be aware that there are demonic powers specifically set against this nation to destroy and divide it. As believers in Jesus Christ, this ought to be our concern now, for we have been given a great responsibility in this hour. After all, what is the point of having everything go our way while most of our nation ends up in hell?

Jesus went on to say to the church in Philadelphia: "Hold fast what you have, that no one may take your crown" (Revelation 3:11). I believe the Lord is saying to us today, "Do not despair because of this moment. Do not despair because of the darkness that has invaded our schools and seems to be in every facet of our society. Do not despair because evil is on parade, calling itself good. Hold fast to the truth that I have planted within your heart."

"He who overcomes, I will make him a pillar in the temple of My God, and he shall go out no more" (Revelation 3:12). Perhaps you are thinking: What if I can barely survive as a Christian now? I cannot even lift my voice in the workplace because I am so afraid of being vilified or mocked. I am a coward, and I know it. Yet now God is asking something else of me? What is it that I have to overcome?

HOW GOD PREPARED MOSES

First of all, you have to overcome your own sense of inadequacy! You must understand that whenever God intends to move powerfully, He intentionally waits until we have only a little strength left. Let me give you an example from the Old Testament.

When the Israelites, God's own people, had been taken captive by a foreign power, He called a man named Moses to bring deliverance to them. However, upon witnessing the burden of his people, Moses initially set out to make a difference with his own strategies, only to end up defeated. Rather than bringing three million people into freedom, he managed to bury one Egyptian (see Exodus 2:11–12). That was all he could accomplish in his own strength.

Moses was then driven into the wilderness for forty years, where he became keenly aware of his inadequacy. Once a powerful orator in Pharaoh's court, he lost his ability to speak well (see Acts 7:22, Exodus 4:10). By the time God called Moses to return to Egypt, he was fearful, stuttering, and no longer had anything but a staff in his hand. In other words, God called him at his lowest moment—when he had only a little strength left. That is when the Lord gave him a great responsibility, essentially saying to him, "Now you are ready. I have heard the cry of My people, and I am sending you to bring them out of bondage, that My glory might be reestablished in the earth"(see Exodus 3:9–10).

FULLY SET APART

Despite his initial reservations, Moses obeyed the Lord. Taking his family with him, he headed back to Egypt in the little strength he had left. However, along the way, "it came to pass on the way, at the encampment, that the Lord met him and sought to kill him" (Exodus 4:24). There was something in Moses' life that had the potential to cause failure on this mission—to the degree that, if undealt with, it would have been better that he die rather than progress on this journey!

What could be so serious? After all, Moses obeyed God in his weakness. He chose to go through the open door that the Lord set before him, so what was it that caused God to consider taking him out along this journey?

We see what the issue was in the next verse as his wife "took a sharp stone and cut off the foreskin of her son and cast it at Moses' feet, and said, 'Surely you are a husband of blood to me!' So He let him go. Then she said, 'You are a husband of blood!'—because of the circumcision" (Exodus 4:25–26). Moses' son had not been circumcised! Most commentaries agree that bringing an uncircumcised son on this journey to set a nation free represented the fact that Moses had not yet become fully identified with the people of God, nor was he fully engaged in the calling of God on his life. Although it was within his power to do so, his own son had not been set apart. Moses was bringing something of himself and his lineage into this battle.

We see this issue arise again when Moses' successor, Joshua, was leading the people of God into the Promised Land to claim their full inheritance and become the testimony that God was calling them to be in the earth (see Joshua 5). A whole generation that was raised up in the wilderness had not been circumcised! In other words, they had not fully identified themselves as the people of God. Before they could enter the Promised Land—before Jericho could fall, before the Amalekites and all the other enemies could be defeated, before the full inheritance that God had for His people could be claimed—there had to be a reckoning with God. All those born in the wilderness had to be circumcised, wholly set apart for the Lord and His purposes.

And so my question to you today is: Do you fully identify with the people of God? Do you fully identify yourself as part of a Body that Christ has placed on the earth for a divine purpose? Are you part of something bigger than yourself? In the book of First Corinthians, we see that the apostle Paul admonished the church because selfishness had crept into their fellowship. The people were gathering together to worship, but they were actually self-consumed, unconcerned about those around them. They never bothered to consider: Does my neighbor have enough to eat? Are they encouraged? Paul said that "many are weak and sickly among you, and many sleep because you have failed to discern the Lord's body" (see 1 Corinthians 11:30). They did not understand what it truly means to be part of the Church of Jesus Christ.

And my second question to you is: Have you fully embraced God's purpose for your life? Before you are tempted to give an immediate "yes," remember that in order to fully embrace God's purpose for your life, there cannot be any uncircumcised thing that you are trying to bring with you into the work of God. In other words, is there anything in your life that the Lord has His finger on—anything that you know you need to put away?

For example, are you a purveyor of hate in this society? Are you fostering division? Is your speech clean? Are you a loyal employee? Are you stealing in the workplace? Do you pay your taxes? Are your relationships holy? What do you do on Friday nights? Just as the Lord stopped Moses on his journey, as well as the Israelites, you and I must stop and deal with these things before we can continue on to do the work of God.

A DOOR NO MAN CAN SHUT

Remember, in our opening Scripture, Jesus said, "Behold, I set before you an open door."That means that once we are set apart and have fully embraced God's purpose for our life, all we have to do is get up and go through the door that He has set before us! The text implies that though our strength is small, we are invited to arise and pass through into a place of victory which has already been prepared for us. We do not have to fight for it, for the fight has already been won. As the Scripture says, "'Not by might nor by power, but by My Spirit,' says the Lord of hosts" (Zechariah 4:6). You see, God is not asking us to craft some brilliant strategy in order to win our cities. He is simply saying, "I am asking you to get up in the smallness of your strength and go through whatever door I open for you. You will go through solely by faith and it is a door that no man can shut!"

We may not know exactly what that door will look like for each one of us, but we do know that those who are willing to go through it have an incredible promise from the Lord: "I will make those of the synagogue of Satan, who say they are Jews and are not, but lie—indeed I will make them come and worship before your feet, and to know that I have loved you"(Revelation 3:9). I believe the Lord is saying to us today: "If you follow Me, I will do something so powerful in and through your life that false religion will lose its hold on the people."

Jesus continued, "I will make you a pillar in the temple of My God. And I will write on you the name of My God and the name of the city of My God, the New Jerusalem, which comes down out of heaven. And I will write on him My new name. He who has an ear, let him heart what the Spirit says to the churches"(see Revelation 3:12–13). In other words, "I will give you strength, making you unmovable. I will write on you the name of hope and victory in the midst of a crooked and deceived generation. You will have another countenance. You will have a source of inward strength that does not come from anything in this world—it comes only from Me!"

I can see it now: Just as the early Church began on the Day of Pentecost, in smallness of strength, you and I will burst out into the marketplace one more time in our generation, and false religion will bend its knee before us. We will travel from place to place in our weakness, and the glory of God will follow us. That which seeks to destroy men and women around us will have to bend its knee, acknowledging that Jesus Christ is with us!

Of course, this means that you and I are given the choice today: Will we stay in smallness? Will we stay swallowed up in what this world has told us we are? Or will we get up and go through the open door—in our weakness, in our struggles, in our trials—yet with faith to believe God for victory in every area of our lives? Will we believe that God will give us the power to put away whatever needs to be forsaken—every work of darkness, evey wrong attitude of heart, every mistake we made in the past that still heeds the voice of condemnation?

It is time for us to recognize our responsibility in this hour. It is time to believe God for the power to identify with the Body of Christ and fulfill the purpose that He has ordained for our lives! It is time to get up, though we have only a little strength, and go through that open door into a victory that only God can bring—believing God for our families, our coworkers, our city, our nation! It is time to believe God as Moses did—not because of our own strength or with our own plans, but because of the victory of Christ who has given us authority over all the power of the enemy (see Luke 10:19). Remember, God is the One who makes us more than we are. He is the One who takes us where we could never go, that His name might be glorified once again in the earth!