#caws supremacy

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

It’s me, I’m bitches

#sebastian stan #seb stan #sebastianstan #sebstan #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #sexy seabass #in sebastian we stan #sexy sea bass #captain america winter soldier #caws supremacy #caws #captain america civil war #cacw #winter soldier #1940s bucky #40s bucky #falcon and the winter soldier #fatws!bucky #fatws

[satan-incarnate-666]

there should be more dad optimus prime fic

#caw caw caw #transformers #optimus prime #dadimus prime supremacy ‼️

[crow-with-a-knife]

Every single person in my life as a child: never approach wild animals! Especially if they’re nocturnal and out in the day!! They could be rabid!

Me: actively disregarding this information and walking outside to feed a wild raccoon some fresh baby carrots because I know she’s a hard working single mother with three kids who are actually grown up now but she still deserves some food just for being herself and my friend named her Pig.

#caws of crow #Pig supremacy #i care about her more than several humans in my life

[marmorenshud]

get your american acronyms away from me

#caw #european just mash a bunch of words together supremacy

[heimdallsbraids]

Blood of Mine | Ch. 6 (Heimdall x fem!reader)

Summary: Life is pretty simple. Survive the harsh conditions of Fimbulwinter in Midgard, trade with your dwarven friends in Svartalfheim and – avoid the shit out of Odin’s most loyal lapdog? If word reaches the All-Father about your blood-bending origins, you’re doomed… (Hints of Avatar: TLA, but not a crossover)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Profanity

First chapter | Previous chapter | Next chapter

View on AO3

Chapter Six: Björn

It was the morning after Thor’s big feast, and you awoke feeling more well-rested than you have in a long time. Your dreams pleasantly consisted of travelling to some foreign lands, far away from the troubles of Asgard – no Odin, no Heimdall and certainly no threat of Ragnarök looming around the corner. It was a nice change from the recent nightmares you’ve been having.

Feeling good, you opted to wear one of your new dresses, admiring its splendid quality as you stood before the window, peeking outside. It was an emerald green number with delicate stitching along the hems and ivory symbols lining your full-length sleeves, showcasing what you assumed was Asgardian supremacy. It fits you like a glove, and you were tempted to order another to take back to Midgard once you built up some savings.

Exiting the hall of bedrooms, you were surprised to see the double doors to Odin’s office open, if only a crack. The man himself could be seen standing behind the massive desk, muttering away as the hushed cawing of a raven echoed around him. It was an odd sight, and you were nearly out of earshot before he called out to you.

You exhaled slowly, backtracking around the corner to peek your head inside. “Yes, Odin – I mean All-Father?”

He beckoned you in with a humoured shake of his head. “Got some time to chat?”

Not having much of a choice, you nodded and stepped inside. Unfortunately, you hadn’t seen Heimdall standing off to the side when you peeked in before, and you barely held back a groan of displeasure as his lips tilted upward in a sly smirk. Here you were wanting to avoid the Gods, and now you were stuck alone in a room with both of them. Just your luck!

Odin didn’t miss the interaction. With a pointer finger, he gestured between you and his son. “You two know each other?”

Heimdall’s answer was prompt. “Of course, All-Father. I make it my business to know who or what enters the realm I love.”

The insinuation behind his words wasn’t lost on you, and you inwardly cringed as he gave you a pointed look while saying it. You tensed. Could he make it any more obvious?

Odin hummed, sounding pleased. “Always on the ball, this one! If you ever have any questions about Asgard, he knows everything there is to know about it. He’ll be happy to show you the ropes.”

“I’m sure he will be,” you replied monotonously, doubting that very much.

“Indeed. Now, I’ve been meaning to say…” he began, fluffing with some scrolls along the expanse of his desk. Some were new, others were old and tattered, and a few were lying open with foreign characters written over them. “You’re more than welcome to come and go from the city as you please. I won’t always be around to take you, but Heimdall here has the ability to travel by bifröst if you ever find yourself missing home.”

Your brows rose at that. Travelling to Midgard with Heimdall? You didn’t know him all that well, but something told you he’d rather go anywhere else than to the realm of humans and shitty Fimbulwinter weather. Not to mention, you doubt the locals at your camp would appreciate his uppity, better-than-thou attitude – if he didn’t just up and ditch you by the Lake of Nine, that is.

You glanced at him to gauge his reaction, but he gave nothing away as he regarded his father and superior with a stance that meant business, all upright and straight-backed. He looked like a hound, ready to bark and bite on demand if its owner commanded him so. It certainly didn’t scream familial love to you. It piqued your curiosity, but you weren’t about to comment on it.

“When’s the soonest I can leave?” You asked instead, making Odin cease all actions and huff a laugh. Even Heimdall quirked a brow, but he otherwise remained stationary.

“Already so eager to leave? I hope you haven’t run into any issues; any problems…?” He trailed off.

“No,” you answered. “I’ve just never been away from home this long. I want to check on my dad and see how everything’s going.”

“I see.” Odin took a moment to drum his fingers against his chin, thinking. Then, he clicked his fingers, “How’s about I take you there now? Meet the parents, see the town?”

You winced. “There’s only one.”

“Hm?”

“Parent,” you clarified. “I only have one. And it’s not a town, either.”

“My apologies. I had no idea.” Odin rounded the table and lay what you guessed was supposed to be a comforting hand on your shoulder. “If you want to go now, we can. Just let me make some arrangements beforehand to keep this place up and running while we’re gone, and I’ll be right with you. Wouldn’t want to return to it in shambles, would we now?”

With that, the man was off, leaving you and Heimdall to stare at where he’d stood nearly two seconds ago. Seeing no reason to hang around, you circled back and made your way to the great hall, figuring you should probably squeeze in a quick meal before your trip. You had no idea the younger God was hot on your trail until he cut you off, treating you to a face full of his leathered tunic. You sputtered and reeled back with a heated glare.

“Running from your problems isn’t very becoming of you, sunshine. Reality getting too hard to face?” He sneered, glowing purple eyes locked onto yours.

“How am I ‘running from my problems’?” You snapped, wanting nothing more than to knee him in the groin. He seemed to notice this, too, because he wedged his leg against yours, preventing you from doing so. You continued, “I’m going home to visit, not hide!”

“That’s right, wench, you won’t ever be able to hide from me. You may have gotten off yesterday, but you’ll be put to work very soon – that, I promise you.” He finished lowly before stalking off through the front doors of the lodge.

You could only stand there, dumbfounded by his harsh overreaction. You had no idea how he came to the conclusion that you were running away, but the nerve he had to act as if you’d somehow forgotten about your agreement pissed you off more than anything. You kicked the wall out of frustration. What did it matter to him anyway? You’d be out of his hair, out of his realm, and most importantly, far, far away from his precious All-Father.

The two of you had also gained quite the audience since, when you finally calmed down enough to look up, several servants and helmets were staring at you, clearly baffled by the scene they’d just witnessed. Aggravated as you were, you stormed off to your room. Thanks to Heimdall's little hissy fit, you no longer had an appetite to worry about.

You were sitting on the bed with your knees tucked against your chest when you received word from a servant that the All-Father was ready. You were silent as his ravens surrounded you in waves, clearing out once you’d arrived in Midgard. You instantly recognised where you were, but the sudden exposure to sub-zero temperatures had you huddling your arms to your chest for warmth.

“Hah, almost forgot!” Odin chuckled. He waved his hand toward your shivering form, “Efri-lá…”

Suddenly, as if a blanket had tucked itself over you, the cold whispers of Midgardian winds weaned away, leaving you nice and toasty in your new Asgardian dress. You probably should’ve changed into regular clothes beforehand, but you were too busy sulking to think correctly. You were just lucky Odin had that trick up his sleeve, or he would’ve had to take you back.

You mustered a small smile. “Thanks. We’re actually not too far from camp.”

“Lead the way,” he encouraged.

You observed as he tucked his cape so that it enveloped him entirely, granting outsiders nothing but the vision of a tall man. He looked every part the mysterious God you’d heard countless stories about throughout your childhood. It was hard to believe you were now his personal guest in Asgard and that he was bringing you here on a house call, of all things. You would’ve been pretty chuffed if you didn’t know any better.

“So,” you began awkwardly, adjusting the sleeves of your dress as you walked. “I take it you’re not as busy today, then?”

“I figured I could spare you some time. After all, you are my guest.” He stated, his voice accompanied by his crunching footfalls in snow. “I do apologise for the blatant neglect. I’ve been a very busy man as of late. Gotta keep the people happy, you see?”

You wanted to scoff at his honeyed words. Sure, the people inside the walls of Asgard were probably satisfied enough, but everything outside of it? All the other realms that suffered, thanks to his input? You didn’t doubt that they were in an absolute state. Especially Vanaheim.

“I see,” you echoed, struggling to maintain your composure. “It must be hard. Protecting so many people, I mean…”

“Ah, it comes with the territory, I’m afraid, but I don’t let that stop me. Enough about me, though,” he declared. “I take it you’re enjoying your stay in Gladsheim?”

“It’s a beautiful city,” you answered honestly, thankful for the change of subject. “Your granddaughter’s very nice, too. We spend time together quite often, actually.”

“So I’ve heard! She’s a fiery young thing if I’ve ever seen one – big dreams, too. It’s a shame she takes so much to her father.”

You tilted your head in muted shock. Was that a dig at Thor? Did this man have a healthy relationship with any of his sons?

“I’m pleased to know she took responsibility for our guest. I have to admit, I was a little worried at first.” He finished jokingly.

A familiar cave opening appeared in the distance, and soon enough, the sounds of people talking drifted within earshot. Your heart began to race. You were eager now that you were actually here, about to see your father again. You weren’t lying earlier in saying that this was the longest you’d ever been away from home and, thus, away from him. You missed him.

Your camp neighbours stared as you hurried to the back with a peculiar man trailing behind you. They had no idea who he was, and you were more than happy to keep it that way.

“Dad?” You called, running inside.

You were surprised to see that he was awake – sober, even – and he immediately stood from the stool near his bed, pulling you in for a bear hug. “Where the Hel have you been, you little shit?”

“I’ve missed you, too, Dad.”

He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear before shuffling to the other end of the tent where a heavy wooden chest sat. He lifted a weighty green sack from inside and gave it a shake, the tell-tale sounds of clinking money reverberating in the tent.

“About that…” You trailed off, scratching the back of your neck.

“You couldn’t have given me some warning before running off like that?”

“Hey, it was for our benefit!” You argued, crossing your arms over your chest. “I had to do something, or we’d have been screwed within a few weeks!”

 “I know. And I am sorry.” Your father sighed, dropping his arms to his side in defeat. “I promise I’m trying. It’s just, ever since your mother-”

Your hand shot up in front of you. “Please, don’t. It’s been years, Dad. We… we need to move on.”

“Am I interrupting something?” It was Odin. He lifted the tent flap and peeked inside. You almost forgot about him amongst the influx of complicated emotions, but you were honestly glad for the interruption.

“No, you can come in if you like.” You told him, shaking your head.

Your dad sent you a questioning glance as he returned the money to the chest, silently asking who the Hel this man was and why he was stepping into your home. Nevertheless, he straightened up and held out a hand, facing him with a presence you hadn’t seen in a long time.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Ah,” Odin grasped the offered hand. “I’m Odin. You could say I’m your daughter’s new boss.”

You didn’t miss how your father’s grip tightened or the way his eyes flickered to yours upon recognising the name. You shook your head, signalling him to play along.

“Björn.” Your father replied, smoothly taking on the role of the unassuming parent. “Thank you for that, by the way. You’ve helped us out of a tight spot.”

Odin seemed to revel in the praise as he clasped his hands behind his back. The two began chatting, and you quickly excused yourself to grab the two men a drink. Upon your return, you discovered them sitting on the stools, still talking.

“Wouldn’t you rather be by your daughter’s side?” Odin asked, and you froze.

“What?” You interjected. You crouched down, eyes flicking between them in curiosity as you handed them each a cup of freshly brewed tea.

“I extended the offer to live and work in Asgard to your father. I thought it better for the both of you that way.”

You were immediately reminded of Heimdall’s words a few nights ago – how he believed Odin already knew what you were – and immediately began waving your hands in front of you. One family member in the devil’s den was more than enough.

“Don’t be silly, he’s fine here in camp. Right, Dad?” You urged, hoping he’d take the hint.

“They need me here.” He agreed firmly, nodding his head. “Fimbulwinter’s only getting worse, and we’re about to have a few new additions join the camp, so we need all the people we can get.”

Odin took a sip of his drink as he processed this. “I can respect that. However, the offer remains the same should you change your mind. Asgard will welcome you with open arms.”

You sighed in relief, not realising you were even holding your breath in the first place. A few more pleasantries were exchanged before the sound of a raven squawking had the God standing from his chair and returning his cup.

“Business calls, I’m afraid. I’ll meet you out front.” He ominously declared. “Until next time, Björn.”

You were granted a private moment with your father as Odin left, the sounds of his footsteps and hushed words fading not long after. Deeming the coast as clear, your father gripped you by the arms, shaking slightly.

“What have you done, sprout? You’re not safe in Asgard,” he jutted his chin toward the tent’s exit, “-and certainly not with him!”

“All I know is I was lucky enough to meet his bitchiest son, then Durlin kept me out of Niðavellir for a good month, and then suddenly, he was taking me to meet Odin!”

“Durlin?” Your father spat, venom lacing his tone. “Really? Did that little shit blab? Oh-ho, if your mother was still around-”

“That’s what I was thinking – and that’s not even the worst part!” You were anxiously shifting on the spot now, waving your hands in grand gestures to help explain the shitstorm you’d gotten into. “That bitchy son I mentioned before? He knows! He fucking knows!”

Your dad stilled. “You’re not going back. Tell him I’m sick or dying – shit, anything!”

“I can’t! If I even think about leaving, he’ll tell his father…”

“Which son is it?”

“Heimdall.”

Grave recognition overcame his features, and your father threw his hands in the air. “Of all the sons, it had to be him!”

You wanted to ask how he knew Heimdall, but you feared Odin would become suspicious if you continued to delay, so you quickly leaned in for a hug instead. “Look, we’ve got an agreement going, so I should be fine until-”

“Should be?”

“Come on. I have to go!”

He shook his head as you pulled away from his tight embrace. “I’m always here, sprout, you know that. Dad’s always here…”

“I know,” you whispered, having already made your exit.

Your chest hurts.

A/N: Yoo, what is with the lack of Odin gifs? I could hardly find any except for the ones where he's getting beaten the shit out of by Atreus, Kratos and Freya omg

#we like character building in this story #hope you like #heimdall x reader #heimdall gow x reader #heimdall gow #gow x reader #fanfiction #crossposted on ao3 #fic: blood of mine #rip gif odin

[cawdaver]

ONE FOR ALL ┊ - do not repost -

"... Swimming with the fishes."

reblogs >> likes!

#ofa supremacy #was originally gonna go for a dark blue and orange palette #i like this though #caw post #azzy art #one for all #all for one #tomura shigaraki #tenko shimura #one for all first holder #first one for all holder #bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #hi remember to drink water #u sexc little weasel

[skidoodle-doo]

Behold my Killer T worshipping.

Hhh- I'd legit worship any character that RADIATES tsundere energy-

🙄🙏

🛐

#cells at work #hataraku saibou #killer t cell #killer t #i simp for my own cells lets goooo #caw #cawmeme #meme #killer t cell supremacy #i worship killer t #totally me being self indulgent and making this meme for that reason-

[crimsongrimoire]

I know a weenie clown, he comes from weenie town

He likes committing crimes from bank fraud to genocide

I hate his weenie queen, I'll crush his weenie dreams

Someday I'll take this knife and end his weenie life

Your bloodline ends here, weenie clown

🐟

YOU ARE THE WEENIE CLOWN!!!! ITS YOU

#cawing #WHY DO U TORTUEE ME #at age 6 i was born without a face #��� #if you want context you gotta join klk supremacy

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

You know what I’ve been thinking about for YEARS?

The way Steve says “if you want- if you want” when he’s talking to Sharon about using his washing machine. There is just something so aggressively cute about it and it drives me absolutely insane.

#steve rogers #captain america winter soldier #captain america #Sharon carter #CAWS #caws supremacy #this has stuck with me for YEARS

[chalabrun]

Once I’m done with revising and updating some of my meta, I’m 100% making a “why I ship the thing” meta multi-chap on ao3 because I am a godless heathen who thinks too fucking much. >:D

#calis caws #me like the usausausa guy: #RAREPAIR AND CRACKSHIP SUPREMACY BITCHESSASSS

[satan-incarnate-666]

:)

let's see if i get a response

#caw caw caw #james rollins #grayson pierce #sigma force #trans gray SUPREMACY

[crow-with-a-knife]

Maybe it’s because I grew up in the south of America but I fuckin love cicadas? Like northerners come here and are like “wtf is that noise it’s so awful” shut up hearing those bugs mean you’re safe from The Scream that’s in the woods so don’t you dare diss cicadas

#caws of crow #cicada supremacy #best loud insect

[moomoorare]

Origins SMP Art 🐾

Lots of stuff

Origins Doodles

Allium Duo 💐🏔️

I did I did it!! I drew them!! The best duo in all of Origins :] !!! :D

Bee Duo 🍯☔

Bee gives the giant prince a flower :D

they're both assholes but in a different font✨

Tubbo 🐝🌷

my design for o!Tubbo

Ranboo😈✨

o!ranboo ^_^

angry cat >=(

Dabbling!! with this ender's design 👊😔

Quackity 🐥💫

Duck mask for the Quack Meister

o!Quackity :3

Tommy 🐦⛰️

redesigning o!tommy

origins tommy doodle

enjoy a grumpy o!Tommy :)

An exercise painting of o!Tommy 🐦

BirbInnit supremacy, no more cock🚫🐔

him ^_^

Philza 🌁🧊

Shiney mask cus Crow Father likes shineyyeey

Caw caw !!

Playing around with his design, still working on it

Technoblade 🐇🥕

twchnobunny doodle 🌷🐰

first Technobunny design

Another Bunnyblade

A Super Fucking Pissed Off Bunnyblade 🐰💫

Literal rabbit :3 with a BIG ASS AXE

fave Bunnyblade design so far

#moomoorare #rare's things

[fuyonggu]

Chen Lin’s Proclamation to Wu (Short Version, No Commentary)

This is the abridged version of this post.

Proclamation to the Generals, Officers, and Subordinates of Wu

By Chen Kongzhang (Chen Lin)

On the first day of the year, the Prefect of the Masters of Writing, Xun Yu, distributed this proclamation to the various generals, officers, and subordinates of the Southland and to Sun Quan's friends and relatives, both near and far:

"It has been said, 'Happiness and misery have no gate by which they must enter, but each man calls the one or the other for himself'. For the man who 'sees his opportunity and acts', rather than remain amidst adversity and peril, has the wisdom of a great sage; he who, faced with danger and pressed by circumstances, heeds the new situation only in the end, deserves the concern of the knowledgeable; and he who only plunges deeper into the muck and mire, never turning aside from doom, merits the annihilation of the foolish. Thus does the refined and superior gentleman consider danger even while at peace, and contemplates future regrets even when they seem remote, while the inferior man is caught unawares by misfortune and laments his loss, and in the end meets with death and destruction. Is there not a great divide between them?

"Now Sun Quan is a mere whelp, and 'unable to distinguish beans from wheat'; he has not worth enough to 'douse the axe' of authority, nor reputation enough to impress anyone. He is a mere hatchling, still growing his adult feathers. Yet he would seek to wander about and do as he pleases, like a dog who barks at his master; he claims that his boats and ships will let him oppose the imperial majesty, and his rivers and lacks shall save him from august punishment. But he does not recognize that Heaven casts its net wide, and he shall be caught in it; he is nothing but a fish in the pot, who will cook when its time has come.

"Has he his rivers to protect him? Yet by the waters of Lake Dongting there remains not a trace of the three ancient states of Miao. Ziyang (Gongsun Shu) had the Jing Gate to guard him, yet he was defeated; Chaoxian (northern Korea) had their ramparts, but they availed them not; Nanyue had their banners, yet they too perished.

“In ancient times, the King of Wu, Fuchai, inherited the legacy of his father Helü and the trained army provided by Shen Xu (Wu Zixu), and he stood astride the region of Kuaiji. Certainly he could have been called a mighty king. Yet when he sought to prove whose was the premier state and struggled with Jin for supremacy, his capital city was sacked by Goujian of Yue and his soldiers were put to flight at Huangchi, and in the end his state was toppled and destroyed and his corpse fell into the hands of the Yue army.

“During the Han dynasty, there was the Prince of Wu, Liu Bi, who was proud, arrogant, and overbearing. Out of his ferocity and cunning, he sought to start disorder, for he believed that he had a strong army and a rich territory, and that he was powerful enough to bully the capital. But when the Grand Commandant (Zhou Yafu) led his army down to Xingyang, the armies of the seven states cracked like tiles and melted like ice, and before Liu Bi could even say a word of condemnation, his throat had already been cut by the blade of Dantu.

“What to make of the fate of such men? Merely this: that the might of Heaven cannot be opposed, and those who rebel against its will are great criminals indeed.

"Nor can Sun Quan be secure in the power of his army. After all, it has been nearly thirty years by now since Dong Zhuo first began the turmoil. And during that time, great heroes and talents roamed the length and breadth of the land, territorial as bears and implacable as tigers. The most powerful among them were those like the two Yuans (Yuan Shao and Yuan Shu), and the strongest were those like Lü Bu; for more than ten years, they stood astride several provinces, and they wielded power and commanded respect. Even beyond them, there were many remarkable heroes with passion and zeal, gazing like owls and glancing like wolves, and in this struggle for heroic supremacy there were too many people to count. Yet in the end, every one of them fell under the axe and parted with their heads; the clouds dispersed and the plains were scorched, and not a man remained among them.

"More recently, there were the generals of Guanzhong (Ma Chao and his allies), who banded together to rebel and cause chaos. They blocked the two Huas (Huayin and Huayang), occupied the Yellow and Wei Rivers, led the Qiang and other tribes to charge forward, and pushed their vanguard towards the east. They possessed towering zeal and lofty ambitions, and it seemed as though no one could stand against them. Yet the Prime Minister (Cao Cao) took up the military battle-axe and spread the word, and, sure as wind and blazing as fire, he 'led the way in front' and routed the foe before a roll of the drums. The result was 'a heap of corpses by the thousands and tens of thousands, of flowing blood and discarded shields'. These are things which all the realm well knows.

"Later, when the grand army had come to the banks of the Yangzi but had not yet crossed, Han Yue (Han Sui) and Ma Chao scampered off and fled back to Liangzhou, where they once again sought to caw and bark. The traitor and bandit Song Jian, who had declared himself King of the Source of the Yellow River, formed common cause with their evil; they helped each other as the lips support the teeth. It was the same way with the General Who Guards The South, Zhang Lu, who was confident in his defenses and so refused to respect royal authority. These enemies were all deserving of our royal punishment. Thus the Prime Minister merely reviewed the troops and made a demonstration at the Yangzi, then once again put the royal armies in order and charged to the west on campaign, to inflict the punishment of the realm against these foes.

"What were the results? No sooner had mere subordinate generals crossed the Long Mountains when Song Jian and Han Sui parted with their heads, and their heads and banners were sent ten thousand li to us. The moment that our army entered San Pass, the various Di tribes came to submit to us, and their kings, nobles, chiefs, and leaders all fled in the face of our advance. When we advanced to Hanzhong, Yangping Gate fell before us; Zhang Lu's army of a hundred thousand men was no more than fallen earth or rotting fish. Zhang Lu himself scurried away, fleeing into Bazhong, but then cherishing the kindness that he had been shown and repenting of his transgressions, he brought his whole family and returned to surrender. The King of the the tribes of Ba, Pu Hu, and the Marquis of the Cong tribes, Du Huo, each led their forces to come and submit, presenting up Ba commandary, and these leaders were employed in office. Thus with one blow of the horns and one roll of the drums, these two corners of the realm were all pacified; we reaped the full bounty of the western sea without even a clash of the vanguards.

"Such things as these only come about through the might and wisdom of Heaven above and the martial prowess of the very spirits of state; they are not something that the power of a mere mortal can accomplish.

"And how generous and benevolent the court is; most impartial, fully civil and fully trustworthy, and greatly willing to grant titles as a display to all the realm. Having submitted to the dynasty, Zhang Lu, Pu Hu, and Du Huo were all granted fiefs of ten thousand households, Zhang Lu's five sons were all granted fiefs of a thousand households, and more than a thousand of the relatives and subordinates of Pu Hu and Du Huo were granted titles from minor marquises and generals on down. Thus were the people able to enjoy tranquility, and the Four Professions returned to their livelihoods. But as for those who rebelled, Song Jian and Han Yue (Han Sui) and their ilk were all 'buried under a mound', while Ma Chao's wife and children were beheaded at Jincheng and his parents and infants were executed in the Xu marketplace. These were not merely the whims of the state to inflict misfortune here and bestow blessings there; they were the just fruits of the submissive and the traitorous.

"Before it snatches its prey, a raptor will often first ascend in order to muster its full power. Likewise, before King Wu of Zhou's ultimate victory at Muye, he first withdrew from Meng Crossing. So too have we been clearing the brambles and cutting away the thorns, restoring peace among the tribes and the Xia (ethnic Han), such that now all the territory for ten thousand li around has become respectful and submissive, and there is no military trouble to be found.

"And now (~217) we have brought forth this heavenly army against you, one million strong, bolstered with the support of the Chanyu of the Xiongnu, Huwanchu (Huchuquan), the various tribes of the six commandaries, the Wuhuan, the Dingling, and the Chuge, and the Qiang and Bo tribes of Huangzhong. Like the rolling of thunder and the unfurling of a mat, we have swept south from Shouchun. At the same time, the General Who Conquers The West, Xiahou Yuan, and others are leading forth fifty thousand elite armored soldiers. The Di and Qiang tribes of Wudu and the zealous troops of the Ba and Han regions are marching south to the Wen River and the Yangzi to swiftly occupy the regions of Tang and Shu. The armies of Jiangxia and Xiangyang are also on the move, crossing the Xiang and Yuan Rivers and approaching Yuzhang. Lastly, our great fleet of tower ships is skirting the coast of the sea and heading straight for the regions of Wu and Kuaiji. All along this front of ten thousand li, we march as one, advancing along five routes against us. Sun Quan's fate is now at hand.

"Now the Prime Minister, as the agent of the state's authority, is acting to remove threats to the people, and there can be no salvation for the abhorrent chief criminals; they shall surely part with their heads. But 'the branches attached and the leaves that follow' may yet be spared; though the leaders are doomed, their followers need not be condemned. The imperial edict does not decree that such people must die. On the contrary, every time that the Prime Minister has vanquished a powerful foe, he has never failed to first offer opportunities for surrender and only afterwards execute those who would not submit. He has recruited generals and obtained talents, and all such people found their full use in his service. And in all instances, there have been meritorious ministers who have 'stood on tiptoes and craned their necks', who have heeded the situation and responded to circumstances.

“For example, when Yuan Shu treasonously claimed imperial title and the court executed him and his generals, the Administrator of Lujiang, Liu Xun, offered up his commandary to the court and return to the fold of the state. When Lü Bu caused turmoil and the Prime Minister led the army to Xiapi, Zhang Liao and Hou Cheng led their troops out to surrender. When the Prime Minister returned to campaign against Sui Gu, Xue Hong and Jiu Shang opened the gates of his city and submitted. During the battle of Guandu, Zhang He and Gao Huan (Gao Lan) changed sides and performed great deeds. Later, during the campaign against Yuan Shang, the General-Commandant, Ma Yan, the former Inspector of Yuzhou, Yin Kui, and the Colonel of Archers Who Shoot At A Sound, Guo Zhao, came and surrendered during the fighting. When the Prime Minister surrounded Ye, the general Su You turned against Yuan Shang and supported the Prime Minister from the inside, and Shen Pei's nephew opened the gates of the city and let the army in. After Yuan Tan was executed, the great general of Youzhou, Jiao Chu, attacked Yuan Xi and drove him out, then heeded the situation and came to submit.

"There were hundreds of such people, all loyal, strong, stalwart, and zealous, all intelligent, all benevolent. They all joined with the Prime Minister to advise him and help develop his plans, to break and charge on campaigns against his foes, to root out his enemies and pull up their banners, and to restore peace and tranquility within the Four Seas. They did not take such actions lightly! It was truly an instance of 'Heaven displaying its heart', of them 'thinking deeply and considering the long-term'.

"Consider well the crossing-point between good and evil; understand the division between possible and impossible. Let the brave not die a pointless death; let the dutiful not maintain a meager charge. Bow to the reality of circumstances, for there is only one road by which you may preserve yourself. And if you do so, then you may establish a mountain of achievements and enjoy an incalculable salary. Those who in the morning were hated criminals may become the highest of generals by evening. This is what is meant by 'recognizing the situation in the midst of difficulties and exchanging bad fortune for good'.

"There are those who will say I am only enticing you with honeyed words and trying to win you over with trifling kindness. But such people are merely stuck in the mud; they are already lost, yet they do not realize it. How many people shall continue to go along with the flow and be snuffed out in the flames with all the others? Would it not be tragic to throw away a chance for good fortune?

"A few years ago, when the army was at Hanzhong, the eastern flank of the state was far away from the west, and the garrison remaining at Hefei was not even five thousand strong, while Sun Quan personally led tens of thousands of soldiers against it. Yet he was routed and driven off in defeat. Now he thinks to stand against the rolling thunder. He has little hope.

"One must gain the assistance of Heaven through submission to its will, and the help of the people through the building of trust; to act properly is called righteousness, and to show kinship is called benevolence. Yet though Sheng Xiaozhang (Sheng Xian) was a superior fellow, Sun Quan still executed him, and though Sun Fu was his own brother, Sun Quan still killed him. No one is worse than him in being a robber against righteousness and a ruffian against benevolence. Thus the gods and the spirits judge him as guilty, and the people are united in hatred of him.

"Those who would associate with such a criminal are themselves considered wicked bandits. That is why when, in ancient times, Yi Zhi (Yi Yin) abandoned Xia, he did no injury to virtue, but when Fei Lian died for the sake of King Zhou of Shang, he was not considered a worthy man. Why? Because there are times when it is proper to remain, but also times when it is proper to leave.

"Now the Prime Minister deeply cherishes the longstanding legacies and virtues of the old Southland clans, which have been known for many generations. It was not so long ago that the brilliance of Wei Shuying rose above the highest mountains and his reputation spread all throughout the seas, that the moral principles and indulgent love of learning of Yu Wenxiu were widely regarded, and that the peerless talents and cultivated virtue of Zhou Taiming were known by all. Thus their descendants should 'long enjoy much happiness', and their sons and grandsons should be protected and preserved. Yet Zhou Sheng and all his clan, though innocent, have been executed; the lineage has been scattered and lost, falling into oblivion among the trees and grass. Is that not regrettable? And we have heard that Wei Zhourong and Yu Zhongxiang (Yu Fan) have inherited the legacies of their ancestors, so that 'what the father planned, the son must build', 'the wood chopped by the father must be carried by the son'. So too should the old gentry clans of the Wu region, the Gu, the Lu, and all the rest that have enjoyed high status for generations, repay the virtues of the Han dynasty and glorify the good names of their ancestors.

"Indeed, all the generals and officers of Sun Quan, all his marital relations, are fine treasures and useful tools of our state. Yet they are all pressing one another forward, like rain tumbling from the heavens; they are like an axe-blade without a handle, and how can that be used? They are falling into ruin together. Is that not lamentable?

"Among birds, the phoenix builds its nest high up on a lofty ridge, thus displaying the virtues of a worthy sage. But wrens and shrikes build their nests on reeds and twigs, and when the reeds snap the chicks are destroyed; this displays the delusions of the lowly and foolish. And currently, the Southland itself is no different from such a reed or twig, with many worthy people perched upon it. Truly, they are in great danger.

"The court is generous and magnanimous, tolerant and forgiving, and most sympathetic to the lives of the people. They seek the execution of one man alone, but have no suspicion towards anyone else. Thus they present uncommon rewards, in the expectation of uncommon achievements. Is there not some domineering fellow, some man of passion and drive, who will seize this moment to wrest control of their fate? If so, be diligent! For whosoever can arrange a grand undertaking and perform the greatest of achievements will earn great glory and riches; that would lead to the greatest fortune. Or if you cannot bring yourselves to do that, it would still be sufficient for you to analyze well the situation you face and consider how to exchange death for life.

"Even a tiger will gnaw off its own paw if it is bound by a rope, and even a strong fellow will chop off his own wrist if there is a viper on his hand. Why? Because of the danger posed to the whole body. They see the preservation of their whole body as more important than the loss of the limb. Will you then take delight in your misfortune and think you are at peace, continue your wandering and forget to turn back, be blind to the praises of the Daya poem and ignore the ways in which the past worthies exchanged sides, and turn away from a sure means of safety and prefer to remain on the snapping branch? Shall you live your life only one day to the next, until in the end you are lost? For when our great soldiers are flung against you, then the jade will be smashed along with the stone, and even if you sought to save yourself then, it would be too late.

"Thus I have sent forth these offers to recruit you, to offer titles and rewards and this opportunity to reform yourselves. When you receive this proclamation, carefully consider what I have said to you.

"This decree has the force of an imperial edict."

#Chen Lin #Sanguo #Three Kingdoms

[poorlyconditioned]

Still to come.

This text was written in relation to a performance entitled Still to come (A feminist pornscape). Thanks to NONA Residency, Sarajevo for hosting and to the Museum of Contemporary Art, Zagreb for housing me whilst writing.

 __

Still to come

Accompaniment to reading: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CYWsZ4TtIt0

~

I don’t know how to count this one…

 Conjure your lust from the banal. Find yourself mirrored in the proposition of lit snaking ropes, unused. You think of your brother’s box of pulled tape ribbon, of dipping in deep, up to your elbow, swallowing your arm, as they describe the muscles of anuses learning to open wide, learning to return. A small pucker. Needles of cacti calling the hairs across your skin to alert. The knife blade of your forearm is now a weapon, the clit on your back screaming for a re-do: that moment her hand covered yours and you pulled away, terrified of sparks. Get out of here, get closer. I could cry salty tears, where have I been all these years?

 Nipples flop repeatedly, pointing at the crowd, each particular. What strange creatures humans are. Almost as strange as boyfriends, as bras, as this small platter you’re served to select your sexuality from. Nice but narrow. No one mentioned tree bark or rotting moss or the moment bone becomes metal.

 Birds twitching and rigid. Some thrills I can’t define.

“I want my skin to be doubled and then punctured, slowly.” “Sure, I’ll do that for you.”

 Witnessing you feel it, witnessing you feel it, we are witnessing you feel it.

Whose body?

 Oh, that’s your sexuality right now?

Little wow, tell me how, how uncommon to my eyes, to my senses, tell me more. Confuse me, I adore confusion (I strive to). I want to be where I don’t understand. Where I can’t describe what it is before it is. Where I don’t know how this unfolds starting with kissing and ending with – break my ideas of cocks and cunts and fingers and lips. Let’s let our shoulders morph into green leaves and our toes become thick tongues and wonder oh wonderful, what will you make my body become next?

There’s no climax but there’s peaks and valleys: we are here for the long haul. #insertlesbianjokehere

 I don’t want you to fuck my brains out, I want you to show me the bridge where my brain becomes a dick tip bulging and the shore line licks, tide coming in. Where my brain becomes a vein, feeling only pulsing blood. Where the foam on the waves alights and is our neuropathways and we are turquoise and nothing.

  A fist full of lotion and a Morana-white egg become all I’ve ever wanted. (When I describe the eggs, carefully held in warm slippery palms, over the phone later I’m met with a soft sigh. Everyone gets it.) Mentos clicking against many sets of sharp teeth. Oh I feel that I could melt… I’m hurled. Hanging halfway out a window while you trace the outline of my foot on brick with your fingers that have become chalk. Fuck me powder blue and shadowed. Fuck me which is your head and mine becoming linked by plastic wrap across the room and we turn, slowly reeling in towards each other, an unstoppable slow boat crash, reminding me of Red Bind in Chandigarh. How long has this been going on?

 You want your skin to turn blushed and bright from scratching yourself, that makes you hot, that’s what you want? In my scrambling blunders, I want to know. I will say yes to all I can say yes to. I will honour whatever I can’t meet. I will never shame you for wanting a crow to caw into your cunt. Your kinks are your medicine. Your kinks are your medicine. Your kinks are your medicine.

 Dancing at a party, hands slimy and dripping to our elbows. A soft dangling touch as white alien fingers flicker across feet. Turtle-shelled, a completely hidden body, its opacity what’s visible. Like a slug, like a stone. Don’t wake me if I’m asleep. I catch a whiff of a geography in which I can’t be touched, so I’m safe. Let me dream that it’s true. My spine is stacked metal prisons, swaying, padlocks clanking. The melancholy was a refusal to embrace what you showed me: I don’t want to be alone anymore. I am alone.

 The parts of a body that I don’t know how to name. That little spot. That thing that is just what it is and is not a limb, not a book, not a knowable place, it’s only you. I don’t have the words because all I have are the words we’ve been given. Make it for me, show me what you want before wanting is only capitalism, is only white supremacy, is only patriarchy, is only conquest and domination and cum shots and fluffers and this is how a body looks. This is what a body does.

 Let’s undo bodies together.

 Butt cheek huddle high five. A team without winning ambitions. Finding another world.

 Make your pornscape and I’ll make mine. From before this boring selection we are left with, cold and limp and lackluster. From before desire was organized.

__

Still to come (A feminist pornscape) credits:

Presented at the Queer Zagreb Festival, May 2018. Concept and choreography: Rahel Barra, Ida Daniel, Ana Dubljević, Frida Laux, Zrinka Užbinec Performance: Rahel Barra, Ida Daniel, Ana Dubljević, Zrinka Užbinec Lights and stage: Carina Premer Costumes: Silvio Vujičić Photo and video documentation: Julia Novacek Production: Marijana Cvetković

For more about the show see: https://adubljevic.wordpress.com/portfolio/still-to-come-a-feminist-pornscape/

#stilltocome #feministpornscape #queerzagrebfestival #rahelbarra #idadaniel #anadublijevc #Zrinkauzbinec #carinapremer #silviovujicic #julianovacek #marijanacvetkovic #performancewriting #performativewriting #artwriting

[arosesthorne-blog]

the crew of the Bloodied Thorn (pt. 2)

(Continued from part 1, here)

Papa: This rugged, ragged old lalafel is likely, within only moments of engaging in conversation, to make repeated note of his title of ‘the strongest lalafel in Hydaelyn!’ It’s a mystery to the crew which officiating body sanctioned Papa’s use of this title, if any, and how exactly he came about gaining said title. Worse yet, when a storm whips furiously at the Thorn’s rigging and she begs for a strong arm to keep her steady, Papa can often conveniently be found cowering in a corner, failing to put his claims to the test. In fact, if this leathery old man has any suitable claim on any title of supremacy in all Hydaelyn, it’s mostly like biggest coward. Papa’s much bigger than the average lalafel, a point of personal pride for him; he uses it as justification to bully and tease the other lalafel crewmates, but he’s quick to cower and mumble deferential apologies whenever Conner shoots a glare his way. With a hide tanned from years in the sun and sunken brown eyes, Papa does have one exceptional feature which no doubt inspires the envy of countless men - a hell of a mustache, big and white and thick, twirled up at its ends flawlessly, its majesty emphasized all the more on account of Papa’s shiny bald head. Papa’s one of the Thorn’s oldest crew members, with a history onboard the ship that predates Kina’s legendary ‘hostile takeover’; she’s never been very enamored with the old bastard, and isn’t afraid to smack him around if he annoys her. Still, she keeps him around because he does make her laugh once in a while - usually because of how quickly he shifts from ‘strongest lalafel in Hydaelyn’ to ‘simpering wimp’ at the bark of her voice.

Polly: Every good pirate crew needs a squawking bird, right? Right?? That’s Kina’s philosophy, anyway; she remembers all the good pirate stories she used to indulge in secretly as a kid featured smart-alecky avians. Insisting that her crew have much of the same, she recruited.. well, something a little different. A runaway ixali, the crew would probably know a lot more about Polly if they could understand his squawks, bawks, screeches and shrieks. After years of listening to him crow and ca-caw in terror, anger and frustration, the crew have started to piece together some things about the outcast. Beast tribes naturally have their own appreciable share of criminals, and these societies are.. decidedly less compassionate about how thieves are punished. Not wanting his hands (or head) chopped off, Pahualemuc (that’s what the crew thinks his full name is, anyway,) took off across the Shroud after stealing.. something, important, but no one’s quite sure what. and wound up running into Gridania like a chicken with its head chopped off (which he had indeed been close to becoming.) He probably would’ve ended up gutted by a Wood Wailer if not for Kina’s timely intervention; he’s been a part of the crew ever since. Having worked as an herbalist, botanist and alchemist with his tribe, Polly has three main jobs on the Thorn - preparing medicinal herbs and pastes, brewing up the grog, and running around shrieking, terrified, during battle. Polly is terrible in combat and even the faintest sign of danger will have him screeching uncontrollably, flailing and running for the hills. (or the stairs below decks, if he can help it.)

Haversham: Sometimes you need a few maniacs on your side. Okay, maybe you don’t, but when one happens to be a tiny woman with a massive inferiority complex in charge of a dangerous pirate crew, one would certainly have use of a psycho, wouldn’t one? Especially one who.. well, who really likes fire. Boats, being made mostly of wood, tend to fold quite quickly if one happens to employ a psycho with a pyro streak wide as the Garlean Empire. Haversham really. REALLY likes fire. Thrown out of the Thaumaturgist’s guild, and every other conceivable school, association and club for black magic across all of Eorzea, nothing has stopped him from doing what he wants to do - mainly, string up as many living beings as possible and roast them like pigs on a spit. A short, spindly, scraggly little midlander, Haversham’s body has withered to almost skeletal proportions, and the only hints of color on his pale complexion are the swathes of reddened scar tissue and burn marks that litter his flesh. Eyes always wide with sadistic wonder, Haversham talks in a rattled, manic tone, his words always throbbing with paranoia. He looks like he’s perpetually on something, though the only high he rides is his addiction to pyromania.

Ogglepot: Any pirate crew needs a good appraiser; an expert in antiques, jewels, gems, and riches capable of finding the ‘good stuff’ and making sure the crew get top-tier coin for top-tier treasures. In her search for a new appraisal expert, Kina didn’t precisely endeavor to find the greediest, stingiest, rudest goblin in all of Eorzea - but that’s certainly what she found. Ogglepot hails from a small goblin band from La Noscea, but he always knew he needed more. More gold, more coins, more jewels, more more. The simple life of a trader or a hunter wasn’t enough for him. He haggled and bartered for his tribe for years, but he never got to use any of the wealth they acquired - something he fiercely resented. One night he shamelessly robbed the band’s treasury and lugged bags-upon-bags of gold to Limsa, looking for more, more. Ogglepot always had a good eye for value, but it was in seedy alleyways and dark corners of the Limsan markets, trading in black-market riches, that he really made a name for himself. A ruthless businessman like Ogglepot, however, is bound to make enemies - and he did, many of them. One powerful rival, an unscrupulous trade-baron named Mischk, wanted Ogglepot done for, and his business destroyed, in case anyone tried to move in and take over the goblin’s shipping company. Through his underworld contacts Mischk tipped off Kina and her crew that a wealthy, dangerous marauder would be sailing Kina’s routes - and that he wouldn’t give up without a fight. Kina and her crew ransacked the ship, but quite at-odds with what they’d heard, they found rude, grumpy old Ogglepot in charge. Kina took the goblin prisoner, but with his help, she soon realized she had been duped. Ogglepot happily offered to help her get her revenge, and.. suffice to say, Mischk isn’t a player in the Limsan black-market anymore. Seeing the opportunity he was always looking for, for more, more, Ogglepot offered his services to Kina, and has been sailing with the Queen since, helping her with finances and his broad array of underworld contacts.

More to come laaater~

#kina #the crew #writing