#tiger mist clothing

[greatcombinations]

#tiger mist clothing

[the-plague-ground]

THERE HAS BEEN A MAJOR HATCHING EVENT. babiues

long ass post so

alr so none of the babies are named yet but th parents are Echo and Gratitude

okaaa so first up

unnamed guardian male

clay tiger/ auburn trail/ mist runes

common plague eyes

LOOK AT HIM. LOOK. ISNT HE SO PERFECT AND COOL

im in love with his wing pattern and th tiger stripes its so cool. AND THE RUNE COLOR ?????

like HEL P its so cool

i just love the colors on this guy in general. 10/10

OKAY NEXT

at first i was totally just likE "HOLYSHIT ITS JUST ECHO AGAIN LMAO"

but nope. they are. differnt. lksdjflkj

unnamed fae male

slate tiger/ cottoncandy trail/ sanguine runes

plauge common eyes

he does look very similar to echo though. like very very similar

honestly this lineage could totally turn into me trying to make the ender dragon fr. that would be funny i think. i . might. do that

i love his wings likee ough. very cool. also the runes are barely noticable but tbh. its like. a nice detail

OKAY LAST ONE

LOOK AT HIM. HES BEAUTIFUL. HES SO COOL

unnamed fae male

sable tiger/ bubblegum trail/ strawberry runes

common plague eyes

okay but be fr. this guy is so cool. i love the strawberry color in general. BUT STRAWBERRY RUNES. OUGHG

AND TH ? TRAIL GENE ? PLUS TH COLOR. MAKES HIM LOOK LIKE SOME WEIRD ASS BUTTERFLY

ITS GONGUGOUIS 😍

maybe if the tiger gene was replaced w smth else then it would look even more butterfly ish ? im unsure though tbh

.

ANYways . thats all of em. i need name suggestions I NEED NAME SUGGESTIONS i need name suggestions. send me name suggestions in the tags PLES ASE

i saw that they were all males and went "FINALLY . MEN"

almost all of my other guys ive have been female for so long like the proportion of males to females has been crazy for awhile

i love these guys tbh. all three of em. they are so beautiful ist great

honestly i might like tryto pretty them up with cloths and stuff but tbh im still undecided. i like them alot. but ive barely messed with apparel or anything

i still wanna read the lore of fr and learn how exaltation works? and maybe learn more about the actual mechanics of how genes are passed down. colors too

i think ill try to scry an ender dragon soon . and tryto like. actual. attain it. lskjdflkjs

wish me luck fr tumblr <3

ALR BYEEE

#plagueing around #flight rising #fr #dragon share #fr dragon share #dragon share fr #my bugs #plagueground echo #plagueground gratitude

[the-whumpening]

The Caged Tiger | Part 1

Masterpost | Next

CW: captivity, needles, blood, threats of violence and death, restrained, dehumanization

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

The oncoming army fades from Ash’s vision, warbling green magic replacing the bright snow all around him. As if attached to a string, he feels himself being pulled—a harmless tug at first, but quickly yanking him off his feet. Within the green mist, a cacophony of voices clamor: it’s as if he’s in the middle of a tunnel, with his friends calling him on one end and confused strangers on the other. But he realizes, with dread, these voices aren’t unknown to him. As he calls out, stretching through the spiraling path before him, the portal slams shut. He tumbles to a hard stone floor, catching himself on his hands and knees.

“Wow,” one familiar voice muses. “I didn’t know it could do that!”

“Indeed,” the other replies.

A slender hand grasps his hair and lifts his head; icy spears of panic pierce his spine. He may not know exactly where he is, but he does know his captor.

Ozmund smirks coolly, a devious glint in his narrowed eyes. “You look quite different, Ash—I almost didn't recognize you.”

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

A nagging ache radiates throughout Ash’s body. But it isn’t the soreness that wakes him; rather, it’s the sharp, jabbing pain in his arm. He tries to jerk away from the source as he groggily comes back into consciousness, but his arm refuses to move, as if bound in place.

“You should stop your whinging; it’ll only make this worse,” Ozmund calmly chides, drawing up the plunger of his syringe. The chamber floods with blood, and Ash’s stomach churns at the sight. He turns his head, a cold sweat forming on his brow. As he wriggles, the cold metal around his neck presses into his skin; the attached chain clangs against itself.

What–? Is this . . . a collar?

Flashes of memory return through the queasy haze: a fight with Owen, frantic and feral, each exchanging hit after heavy hit; then a puff of sweet-smelling perfume, and the room swirling as he crashed to the floor. In the dreamlike stupor, he could feel his bare back against the stone wall and the stretch of his arms above his head.

Finally fully awake, fear and rage take the place of his confusion. He tries to calm his panic; he’s not sure if Ozmund knows about his new form, but he doubts anything good could come of him finding out. Stay calm, stay alert. He repeats Kane’s words to himself like a mantra. Use your head.

With as little movement as possible, he takes in his surroundings. The room is cold and sterile—nearly every surface is made of stone or metal. Clean, glass-framed cabinets hold an array of tools he can only guess at the purpose of. Aside from his stable-like holding cell, the rest of the space seems to be set up as a laboratory. What exactly does he do here? His muscles shake against his will—both from the fatigue and terror wracking his body as well as his desperate clinging to his human state.

“Oh, please. A beast, afraid of the sight of blood?” Ozmund scoffs. He withdraws the syringe, pressing a cloth against the wound. A shimmer of green passes through Ash’s veins, and the puncture disappears as Ozmund removes the cloth. Did he just . . . heal me?

Ash tries to speak, but terror has gripped his throat in a tight embrace. All that comes out is a strangled whimper.

Ozmund ignores his panicked squeaks. He deposits the contents of the syringe into a vial, then cleans his hands and drops his equipment on a nearby tray, all the while leaving his back turned towards Ash. Taking advantage of the moment out of his line of sight, Ash pulls uselessly against the restraints. They don’t budge; he realizes that not even his legs are entirely free. He wonders if his bindings are reinforced with magic—even his immense strength proves futile against them. Though he tries to subdue his terror, barely-audible keening cries slip out from his quick, panicked breaths.

With an exasperated sigh, Ozmund turns on his heel. He stalks closer to Ash, each sharp tap of his boots against the hard floor echoing in Ash’s ears. His voice low and ominous, he slams a hand on the wall beside Ash’s head and leans in. “You will cease that pathetic mewling.” For a reason Ash can’t begin to fathom, his expression almost . . . softens. “Don’t fret. I have no intention to kill you anytime soon. I want so much more from you than you can give, I assure you.

"After stealing away my apprentice and ruining all my plans, well, the first thing on my mind is—of course—revenge.” A devilish grin creeps across his face, and he drags a long, manicured nail down Ash’s cheek. “But," he continues, "I have something more practical planned. Such a unique specimen like this, delivered so unexpectedly on my doorstep? I'd be a fool to pass up the chance; I've had my eye on studying you for quite some time. It's funny—I've heard you were trying to become a scholar yourself. Is that right? The little kitten playing Wizard with Nekane's washed-up uncle!"

From within his overcoat, Ozmund reveals Ash’s spellbook. "You won't have any need for this now." Emerald flames erupt from his hand and engulf the book; within seconds, all of Ash’s hard work—the undeniable proof of his intelligence—is reduced to a pile of soot on the ground. Ozmund dusts off his hands and lifts Ash’s head up by the chain. "Follow my orders and serve me well, and you might live long enough to see your friends' inevitable rescue mission. Test my patience, however, and I'll send you back to them—Piece. By. Piece."

A shudder ripples up Ash’s spine, and he fights to keep his expression stone still. As much as his feral side wants to fight back—to lash out at Ozmund, rend flesh from bone, and destroy everything in his path to return to his friends—he knows he can't risk it. Ozmund is far more powerful than he can even imagine, and far less predictable. He can’t seem to anticipate any of Ozmund’s actions; every shift in his demeanor is frightening and unexpected. For once, Ash genuinely fears for his life.

"I can't say I'm not a little disappointed," Ozmund says. "Where's your fight, cat?"

Ash remains silent, dropping his gaze to the floor and turning his head away in shame. He wonders the same; he’s never let fear grab him so fiercely before, but now . . . he can’t help but be paralyzed. Since when has practicality and personal safety mattered to him in the face of danger? Why do I feel so helpless?

"Well, no matter."

He tenses, trying not to flinch, as Ozmund snaps his fingers. The shackles around Ash’s limbs fall away, leaving behind sore impressions in his wrists and a weakness in his knees. What kind of trick is this? What's going on?

"We'll coax that rage out of you soon enough." With a tug of the leash-like chain, Ozmund pulls Ash along behind him.

#whump #dnd whump #whump writing #tw blood #tw syringe #mute whumpee #tbf he CAN talk #he's just too terrified #male whumpee #male whumper #magic whump #the caged tiger #whumpblr #rublewriting

[randomshyperson]

Rulers of The Multiverse - Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Chapter Sixteen

Summary: Strange’s faulty spell will cause a series of unexpected events, from your reunion with the love of your life in another world to the appearance of a child capable of traveling across the multiverse. This story follows the journey of a very tired Guardian alongside mischievous America Chavez and Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: (+18) explicit language and sexual content, violence, a lot of magic, found family, mentions of abusive past and trauma, mind control, use of illicit substances, mostly top!reader, soulmates analogies. || CW: some smut, some angst, closure steps, attempt at humor, one last flashback | Words: 8.535k

A/N-> The penultimate chapter is here!! I hope you're all looking forward to the finale, and enjoying the story so far.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad | Series Masterlist

--//--

Chapter Sixteen - Oshtur's Blessing

You imagined that the afterlife would be peace and quiet, but as soon as you regained consciousness - and with it the intense feeling of tiredness in your body - you realized that this was not true.

When you opened your eyes, you were lying down. Your head was just a little above the water that covered all the ground around you, and you grunted softly as you sat up. 

You weren't even wearing your old clothes, you were wearing broken armor covered with blood. And at your side was a sword that a few minutes ago you saw being thrust against your wife's evil variant.

Sighing, you forced yourself to your feet, and looked around, starting to walk as soon as you could see the temple in the distance, using the sword as support.

The Temple has Greek-Roman architecture, like the In-Between Realm and Alexandria Library, so even before you saw the female figure with her back to you, you knew you were in the presence of Oshtur.

She was not the only one there, however. While Oshtur seemed distracted - if that was even possible for a goddess - by the transparent flowers strung in vases around the temple, there were very watchful eyes waiting for you. It looked like a tiger, but it was much bigger and the rest of its body was not exactly physically but a stable mist. The legendary Hoggoth. 

And meditating next to him with crossed legs was Agamotto.

You walked leisurely up the steps, throwing your sword to the ground as you entered the temple, and Oshtur jumped softly, seeming to snap out of her distracted state, as Agamatto opened his eyes.

"Oh, did I interrupt the vacation?" You ask in a sarcasm-laden voice, and Hoggoth roars softly, exposing one of his fangs to you. But Oshtur opens a little smile.

"My guardian! At last!" She says contentedly. She is almost a foot bigger than you, but still, her voice is really very warm and gentle. You frown.

"It's good to meet you again, Y/N." Agamatto comments in the same kind tone as his mother, and you roll your eyes at the scene.

"Of course, you were expecting me. This whole thing is a fucking sadistic game for you people." You accused angrily, receiving surprised looks for the hostility. You didn't care, starting to rip off the armor that had gotten warm since you got close to Oshtur. You ripped the item off with force, throwing it on the floor next to the sword. "I don't want your dirty gifts. If I am dead let me go to rest or doom for eternity at once."

"Insolent." Hoggoth roared but Oshtur shushed him gently, and the tiger returned to its relaxed position.

"You are not dead, Y/N." Agamatto informed with his hands on his knees, still very calm. "This is the Temple of the Guardian, the place where the Forge takes place."

"Fucking unbelievable." You mumble impatiently, pressing a sore spot in your belly. Your body was aching, and fever seemed to want to appear. "Look, I don't know why you guys finally decided to notice me, because the only thing I've done in the last few hours was get beaten by the evil version of my wife and bled to death. And then I had to watch Wanda die for the second time in my life, so if you can stop playing games I will be very grateful." You declare and to your surprise, Oshtur conjures an armchair next to you. You sigh impatiently but are so tired that you just accept the invitation and throw yourself on the cushions, grunting softly with the gratitude of your muscles. “That doesn't mean I trust you, guys. I'm just tired.” You warn in a whisper, closing your eyes for a moment.

Oshtur and Agamatto share a soft chuckle at your stubbornness.

And you open your eyes when you feel a touch on your cheek. 

"You are so young." Comments the goddess gently, and you move your face away.

"Don't touch me." You ask and she sighs, retracting her hand but not seeming to take it personally. 

"The fatigue comes from your magical exhaustion, guardian. And the pain comes from the restoring of the connection between the Mind Stone and your body that is being made in your world."  Oshtur informs and you widen your eyes.

"So...I didn't really die?"

"No, Y/N." Agamatto says with a small smile. "Your body is in the Scarlet Witch's Temple, where she is re-connecting the infinity stone to your spirit."

"Let me see." You ask immediately, not trusting the gods one bit. Agamatto nods, however, and with a movement of his hands, a mystical mist extends at your eye level, and you watch as if on television the image of Wanda hovering over your body on the black stone table, several candles surrounding you, and the infinity stone on top of the rune drawn on your stomach.

"She also did what you asked her to do."  Oshtur informs you as the fog dissipates. You sigh with relief to know that the mutants were safe. 

"And America?" You ask, and the goddess smiles, nodding, and you feel a weight go off your back.

"You have become attached to the child." Agamatto comments. 

"It sounds familiar to you, I imagine." Oshtur adds before you can say anything, a small smile on her lips. She moves to sit in a similar position to her son, who laughs softly.

"Yes, I understand the feeling." He says looking at you fondly. You swallow dryly, conflicting feelings in your stomach. 

"Are you...the master I knew?" You ask, and he offers you a gentle smile.

"I used to be." He replies. "Now, I am all I ever was, all my conscience combined into one. The Master you met was one of them."

"In that case, it is good to see you again." You murmur tugging at the threads of your shirt. 

"You have changed so much since we last saw each other, child." He comments and it makes you chuckle humorlessly.

"Yeah, a lot of shit has happened." You grumble, and Hoggoth growls softly, causing you to raise an eyebrow. "What? You can't swear around the gods now?"

Oshtur gives a chuckle, gesturing that it was okay. "Don't mind this cranky being, the last time he spoke to humans was almost two hundred years ago." She counters casually. "You have always been such curious creatures. But special, yes, I always thought so. My Agamatto can always see too, can't you, dear?"

"Yes, mother." Concurred the man tenderly, but the Goddess continues with a nostalgic smile.

"Ah, I still remember how you emerged my sweet boy." She recounts. "I was watching the humans, as on an ordinary day, when I saw the children playing. The world was so new and already so full of war, but there was still goodness in your kind. One of the little boys, the poor child victim of the plague, had no sight. And yet, weak and clumsy, he insisted on taking part in the game. And the other children who could see included him in the fun, it was really so beautiful. A single tear slipped from my eye, and when I looked again, there was my son."

Agamatto smiled affectionately but you sighed impatiently.

"Really very touching, Oshtur. You know what would have been even better? Giving the boy his sight back. Or, I don't know, avoid the plague. Things you had the power to do but chose to just stand by and watch."

You accuse seriously, receiving a surprised look from the Goddess.

Hoggoth grunts sarcastically. "Humans and their nonsense." Grumbles the tiger, and Oshtur moves to stroke his ears, shushing him for a moment.

"Guardian, don't forget the concepts of Free Will." Oshtur reasons but you give a wry laugh.

"For Christ's sake, what Free Will? What the gods do most is interfere! Fates, prophecies. Everything is already written. You were already waiting for me!" You charge at her impatiently and angrily, ignoring the pain to stand. "Don't talk to me about Free Will when you and your brother have been playing with my life since before I was born!"

Oshtur turns her face to you, looking really upset. And it almost makes you feel guilty, or ashamed. Almost.

Agamatto raises his hand. "Don't raise your voice, Guardian. Your anger and confusion are understandable, but don't forget who you're talking to."

You swallow dryly, locking your jaw. When Oshtur meets your gaze again, her eyes are bright as lightning.

"You are being unfair in your accusations, Guardian." The goddess says making you frown. "Your stubbornness prevents you from seeing the truth."

"What truth? That you made me kill my brother and my wife for a war that was never mine?" you retort back.

"I didn't make you do anything!" Oshtur retorts. 

"Your blessing killed my brother!" You shout.

"Enough!" Agamatto interferes and his voice makes the temple shudder. You grunt, feeling the Gods' imposition on you to bow, but you resist. "On your knees."

"Fuck you." You retort and this time, Hoggoth roars loudly and the vibration forces your knees to the ground hard and shakes your whole body. You let out a wry laugh. "That's a damn joke. Is that what matters to you guys? Whether I bow down to the oh-so-powerful gods and lower my head to your sick games. Fuck you, you've taken everything from me. You can force my body to obey, but there is no respect in my heart for any of you."

Oshtur stands up with a loud sigh. "Your lies offend me, and despite my benevolence, I should have known that your stubborn nature would make things more difficult when you finally arrived."

You look at her with a stern face, but the goddess is not intimidated.

"Despite your beliefs, there is more than you can see, Y/N." Oshtur continues. "But I must warn you, the truth will be painful. You can choose if you want to be given it."

You chuckle short, but take a deep breath to keep from cursing again. "I will choose the truth, your majesty." You retort with mild irony, and Oshtur gives a sad sigh.

“As you wish, Guardian.” She replies, waving in the air, and the short fog floating outside moves in, covering everything for a moment until the surroundings become brighter, and you realize immediately - by the figures in front of you who were on their feet in the blink of an eye - that it is a remembrance.

You looked around and stumbled with fright when a figure in armor suddenly walked toward you. Taking a step away, you understood that it wasn't even looking at you, but at the gods behind.

The knight knelt in respect, and when he took off his helmet, you choked.

"I salute the Vishanti, and offer my services." Samuel said politely, but his smile did not reach your eyes that also did not hold good intentions. You stepped forward with tears in your eyes, having never seen your brother at that old age. He also had a large scar over his eye, and you swallowed dryly when you recognized the golden glow of the stone behind his irises. 

"Your audacity impresses us." Agamatto says in a harsh voice, but Samuel is still smiling.

"What about my power, sir? Does it impress you as well?" He retorts, making your master sigh.

"Yours? Nothing you carry is yours." Agamatto remonstrates seriously, causing Samuel to lock his jaw. "You offend the Vishanti with your crimes and your presence."

Samuel grunts angrily, getting to his feet.

"My crimes may be justifiable!" He tries. "I had as much right to the blessing as that dirty mutant-"

"Silence!" It was Oshtur who cut in, sounding much angrier than the gentle figure you saw a few minutes ago. "It is I, the Gray Goddess of Balance and Order, who decide who is worthy to carry my blessing. And I would never choose a genocide for the job."

Samuel gives a short, humorless laugh, nodding. "All gods are genocidal, but suddenly if a human does the same thing, I'm in the wrong." He mocks only to have Hoggoth roar loudly enough to shudder at even you, who are not part of the remembrance. Your brother kneels down begrudgingly, the lopsided grin never leaving his face.

"Return Oshtur's gifts, you are not worthy to carry them, thief." Hoggoth demands and Samuel glares at him angrily.

"Isn't being a knight about sacrifice? I've done them all, I've completed all the challenges and training." He argues getting back to his feet, and beating his chest - the golden metal shakes and shines with the impact - "I defeated the knight! The Stone is mine! What more does Oshtur demand to share with me the power that is rightfully mine!"

You had never seen a God hit someone before, but from the noise and the way your brother was thrown against a pillar, it was easy to deduce that it had hurt. And when the stone of Mind rolled to the floor, it was a confirmation.

Samuel started to laugh, you wondered if the blow had made him insane, but realized that it was just the dissatisfaction of not having his demands met. Or perhaps he was content to annoy the gods enough.

The stone flew into meeting Oshtur's open palm again, and your brother dragged himself to stand.

"You could live up to your title all you wanted, Samuel the genocide. Being a knight was never your destiny, much less the guardian of my blessing." Oshtur declared and spun the shiny stone between her fingers. You felt your body heat up and knew immediately that it was yours. "We have tolerated your crimes long enough. The trace of destruction you have left, killing your way to us, is sufficient." 

The armor crashed off of him with a loud sound, and Samuel grunted in pain, but the item flew to the Goddess again. 

"The time for your judgment has come." Oshtur warned, and suddenly an opening appeared in the air, like an interdimensional portal, and out of it came a tall, mechanical figure with a bright purple hood. "The Vishanti greet the Living Tribunal."

The figure greeted the three with a short nod, before moving directly to your brother, who crawled away in fear, but to no avail. Without difficulty, the Tribunal held him by the back of the head and kept him pinned down as it turned to the goddess again.

"Crimes." Demanded the mechanical voice, and Oshtur sighed softly before gesturing in the air, a scroll appearing. On it, was a huge list with names. The court scanned the paper with its golden eyes. "I do not judge the death of lesser beings." He reminded the goddess, but Oshtur was undeterred, enlarging the scroll with a flick of her fingers. With the new names, the Tribunal grunted softly, the grip around the back of his brother's neck firmed and he was lifted into the air so he could see the scroll as well. " Condemnation of the 529 universes, murder of the Guardian of the Order with theft of his possessions including the forging stone and attempt to influence others of his variants with the use of the same stone. How do you plead?"

"Not guilty." Samuel grunted between teeth, causing The Tribunal to squeeze him tighter.

"Lying in the presence of the Goddess of Truth, you have some nerve, human." Says The Tribunal with a smile, making your brother swallow dryly. "Oshtur, anything else to add?"

The goddess nodded, the scroll closing in the air and flying into the Court's free hand.

"My Vishanti and I discussed the sentence." She declared. "On the parchment, the Tribunal will find a list of all the universes that have suffered the attempted influence of the genocide, and in all of these, it was decided that Time Guardians would interfere for the restoration of the original timeline, restoring its events and erasing the existence of its influence. The Vishanti voted that Hammurabi's law be applied and that for the repayment of his crimes, Samuel will die by the hand of his first victim."

His brother let out a loud exclamation, widening his eyes. He could not disagree, because the court kept him silent.

Oshtur continued his sentence.

"Mr. L/N's Reality of Origin has been condemned for his actions and desecrations of reality, but the sentence needs to be collected. The Law of Destiny will be responsible for randomly choosing in which universe the punishment will come." 

"So be it." The Tribunal declared, and Samuel squinted into the air, but the robot closed his hand around him, a light blinded you for a few seconds, and when you looked again, the remembrance was over.

You gasped in shock, and Oshtur took a step closer, but you ran to the edge of the temple, intending to vomit. But nothing came out.

You cried out in frustration, thick tears falling from your eyes. Your brother. A murderer. Worse, your murderer.

"The truth may be painful, but it is still better than the lie, Miss L/N." Said Agamatto trying to sound a little sympathetic. "Still, I regret profoundly that Samuel's sentence came in a universe where you loved him deeply."

You sniffled, hiding your face in your hands for a moment.

"If there are other questions, you should get them out soon. Your witch is about to wake you up." Hoggoth grumbled in a warning and you swallowed dryly, pushing the emotion away to turn to them again.

"My intention in calling you was to have my forge removed." You state as you wipe your face. "I understand what was done to Samuel, and the Tribunal, and I am sorry too. But that is long past and he is dead. I’m not. I want to live and I want to do that next to the woman you say I am meant to kill. So please remove-"

"I beg your pardon, kill? What are you talking about?" Oshtur interrupts you with an indignant expression. "Where did that come from?"

You frown. "From your book? It literally says that the Guardian and the Witch are destined to destroy each other and-"

"Excuse me?" Oshtur interrupts someone even more indignant, and snaps her fingers in the air, causing a Book of Vishanti to appear at the height of her lap, leaves floating at high speed until the figure of the Scarlet Witch and a guardian are at her eye level. Oshtur begins to read, muttering to herself at high speed, and then exclaims. "It says face each other, Miss L/N, not destroy, you got me for a second!" She says with a relief chuckle.

You blink in confusion, "But..."

"Agamotto, that note is so shallow. Did you transcribe that part yourself? It doesn't even mention the forge properly." Oshtur continues, giving her son a look of disapproval, but the man just sighs wearily. She flips through another page. "Look, what a mess. You didn't even mention the fall of the first demons of the original knight's names."

"The book was written decades after the battles, my mother." Justifies the scholar, receiving a hum of understanding, but you are looking at them with indignation.

"Oshtur! Hey! Are you telling me I don't have to fight the Scarlet Witch?" You question and she gives a short laugh.

"Well, that's up to her I imagine." Oshtur retorts, and to your expression, she sighs, closing the book. "Okay, Y/N, just listen. This is the problem with transcripts, you say things and people write whatever they want. Your world, earth 616B, right? The Knights of the Order were raised there to fight higher class dæmons. And when they were gone, and Chthon chose a witch, the sorcerers asked me to bless them with a being capable of defeating that warrior. But you see, I don't create monsters or killers, this is simply not my nature. I could lend my magic to a noble warrior, and I decided to do this in a way that would help him free the witch from Chthon's domain, as I had been asked." Says the goddess gesturing a bit. "And there was already a singularity in the universe where I could keep my blessing, and that would give the warrior the ability to resist Chthon and help the Witch strengthen her own mind because understand, I don't see the Scarlet Witch as anything more than a victim of my brother's ambition." She says, and waves in the air.

You feel a warmth fill your chest, and Oshtur's fingers encourage a golden thread to float in the air, forming the stone at the height of your face. She smiles. 

"Your people trusted trials, and oaths, and working hard to achieve goals. My knights were a reflection of the medieval society of that time. And when I was asked for one last miracle, I followed the same pattern." She says. "The Guardian would have to be a Knight first, someone who received my blessing and completed their training and oaths. I suppose it made sense because Chthon also chose a studied witch. I blessed the singularity of mind with Magic of Order, and thus, which was given to the warrior chosen by the warlocks at that time." Oshtur narrates, while a golden thread of the Stone forms images of figures in the air, giving visualization to her tale. 

"As I told you years ago, my son was the chosen one." Agamotto adds to the story. "And he fulfilled his mission."

"Y-yes, he killed the witch as it is written-"

Oshtur denied it with her head. "It was never written like that." She says. "See, Chthon doesn't care much about oaths or that sort of thing. He just picked a witch strong enough to take Chaos Magic, and drove her insane through his mind domination." Explains the goddess. "But you see, I have arranged things all right, but humans confuse everything. They understand to destroy when I said they should face each other. I gave the guardian the power to free his witch, and he understood that he had to subdue her. It was a very sad thing, yes? The Guardian couldn't live with what he did, especially when he found out that he did the wrong thing. Hektor was a noble and brilliant warrior, but he lacked wisdom, and forgive me for saying that in front of you, my son, but it is the truth."

Agamotto gave a chuckle, nodding. Oshur continued, straightening up a bit.

"You see, Y/N, Héktor practically went mad when he came to consult me. He also came to this very temple, thousands of years ago, with those same absurd ideas. I'm beginning to think you all need a lesson in text interpretation."

You laughed nervously, your eyes filled with tears. Was it possible, really, that you and Wanda could be together?

"Oshur, the prophecies say there can only be one of us, and darkhold says we will destroy each other." 

The goddess sighs wearily and looks at her son. "Your uncle is a very sadistic god, you know? That old demon..." She complains before looking at you. "Of course, the book of the damned says something like that. It was written for chaos worshipers, Y/N! How do you think Chthon wanted to educate his followers about a warrior of opposing magic with the power to wipe out his dominion from the mind? Of course he was going to say that the Witch needs to destroy the guardian." 

You gasp softly, hope growing in your chest at high speed. 

"And about there only being one of each, well, we had to make rules didn't we?" The goddess continues. "When the original two fell, the Tribunal intervened. Creatures powerful enough to alter the fate of the universe, you see? He made demands, conditions were set. Chthon could touch any witch out there, and baptize her with chaos magic, so I decided to use the Law of Absolute Destiny, which tied the Guardian's Forge to the Witch's Forge. It made the Tribunal happy and ensured stability in natural law, but it didn't make Chthon very pleased. A shame really."

She commented on the last part without an ounce of pity, moving her long hair over her shoulder. "With the law, it is written that a Guardian is forged together with a Scarlet Witch, no matter where in multiversal space-time they are." Explains the goddess. "You, for example, received the stone blessed with order magic, the forging stone your brother stole from the guardian of his world that was returned to your reality when you were mortally wounded in battle, and the second that happened, Wanda Maximoff touched the same stone in her universe. A connection that will remain for as long as you both exist. "

You stepped forward. "B-but what about my wife? She... she had chaos magic, she-"

"As I said, Miss L/N, bonded through the forging stone, no matter what universe they are in. Chthon can influence millions of witches around this vast multiverse, trying to lend his magic, but only one of them will be able to awaken chaos, and that will be the one forged at the same moment as their Guardian."

You swallow dryly, absorbing the Goddess's words. She sighs.

"You are thinking of the Forbidden Forge." Says the Goddess, and you immediately agree. "You see, all the mind singularities in the multiverse have a connection to each other. That's why even if Wanda is not from the same world as yours, she could be forged in another reality. The choice is random, I assure you. And more importantly, it is immutable. She was your Scarlet Witch chosen by fate, determined by natural law. And when you, bearer of the Forge Stone that carried order magic in the core, acted against natural law by creating a new one, which was your wife, things went into an unthinkable imbalance. That is why you are sick, Y/N. There is chaos in you, chaos that is not yours."

"How do I fix it?"

"Your Scarlet Witch." She answers. “She’s the one who can lend, remove and control all the chaos in you.”

You sigh. "I thought you wanted me to take an oath."

Oshtur laughs, shaking her hands. "That old thing? As I said, I was only following the customs of the time. I would only wish for an oath from you that was true from the heart, and we both know that your devotion does not belong to me."

You feel your cheeks heat up, and you lower your head, a shy smile appearing on your lips.

"So...I can just go back and be with Wanda?"

"In my understanding, that is exactly what you should do." Agamotto says to which the goddess immediately nods. “My son made a mistake and when I transcribed these events, perhaps in my grief it was easier to believe that fate demanded those sacrifices and that there was nothing to be done. But I think it's evident that Oshtur never demanded war or death, and that her intention was always for the Guardian and the Scarlet Witch to rule the multiverse together.”

You let out a long, relieved sigh, and the next tears on your face are of happiness.

"Just one more thing." You say, being able to see the fog increasing and imagining that you are about to wake up. "My daughter, America, how can she be from a planet that hasn't been born yet?"

The three wise men exchange tender glances. And it is Hoggoth who replies.

"If you already see her as your daughter, it won't be long before it's born." He assures you and you choke softly. 

The sun began to grow stronger, and you took another step forward.

"Wait! I just... I have so many more questions, I-" You begin but Oshtur points to the closed book floating near her. 

"You can keep this, I'll make sure it has my own words this time. To avoid other interpretations." She says giving a look to her son who shakes his head. "Your gifts, Y/N, if you still wish to carry them, are yours."

"I will think about it." You say with a smile, which she returns.

And when you look at the sun again, you feel all the warmth envelop you, closing your eyes when the light gets too strong.

Once the temple is empty again, Oshtur turns to the other two. "Should we have told her about the twins?"

Hoggoth growled softly and sleepily. "It would have ruined the fun."

Oshtur mutters in agreement, deciding to return to her plants.

—-

You wake up in a jolt, rolling off the stone table and knocking over half the candles with you. 

Wanda opens her eyes at the same time, and only gives you a second to recognize the temple around you before jumping into your arms, an embrace you return equally enthusiastically, holding her by the waist and spinning her in the air.

As soon as she breaks, you are speaking. 

"I'm sorry for blacking out, you have no idea where I ended up! I had Oshtur there, and Agamatto, and a Tiger! But he was the god type, his name is Hoggoth and he's kind of a jerk, but that doesn't matter because they all kind of are and-"

Wanda kisses you, hard and intense. You gasp a little in surprise but kiss back, hesitating when you feel her tears. 

"Hey, hey, what-"

"I thought I lost you." Wanda explains tearfully, hands on her neck. "I just-" She sobs and you hug her again, as tight as you can.

"I'm so sorry Wanda. I told you I wasn't going anywhere." You say and move your face to kiss her again, and again, until she is laughing with relief, hiding her face in your collarbone. "I have like, a dozen god things to tell you, but I think we have to go to America first."

Wanda nods in agreement. "Just let me... hold you for two more minutes."

You smile, kissing her shoulder. "As long as you like, my dear."

But you don't need to look for America. Wanda clearly used the stones as you requested because a few minutes later, the Resistance personnel is arriving at the Temple courtyard, and with them, the group that was trapped in the time loop.

Chavez runs up to you two, hugging you both tight and you feel like you can breathe again.

Wanda notices when the strangers start getting calls and they start getting agitated until someone yells that the mutants were back, and suddenly she was being cheered and celebrated.

"Thank you Scarlet Witch!" and "All hail the Scarlet Witch!" were some of the phrases in the chorus, and Wanda felt her face warm, smiling shyly. You and America offer her an encouraging smile, and soon the gates are being opened and the flares and fireworks are lit to signal victory.

You hesitate when you see the bodies of the variants being carried away and ask both of them to excuse you and run to the group.

Erik is muttering a prayer, and you wait for him to finish before approaching him.

"Hey, Mr.Lehnsherr, how are things?" You ask half-heartedly, but he offers you a smile, before hugging you.

"Thank you, Guardian, for saving my people." He says, but you give a short laugh.

"All I did was fall and bleed, sir. Wanda did all the work." You say and he hesitates, looking to where the woman is talking to members of the resistance and holding America against her. "You can meet her. If you want."

Erik swallows dryly, turning his gaze back to you. 

"I didn't have a good relationship with my Wanda. I'm not sure another version of her would like me."

You give him an encouraging smile. "It can't hurt to try, sir."

Erik smiles, looking at Wanda again. You follow the gaze and see that Pietro has just approached, half hesitant.

"I think there's another family member she'd like to get to know better." Erik says half sadly, and you decide you won't push it, letting him follow his own time. He offers you a smile before walking away, and you decide to move toward Wanda.

"[...] I don't know if you had a brother in your world, but well, I'm Pietro Maximoff and I-"

Wanda didn't let him finish, hugging him tightly. He gave a half-hearted laugh but reciprocated. She let him go next, her eyes filled with tears.

"I-i'm sorry, I just... I lost my brother. And I just-"

"It's okay." He interrupts with a tearful laugh as well. "I sorta get the feeling. So, Scarlet Witch, huh? It's cool."

It's Wanda's turn to laugh tearfully, nodding slightly. "Thanks, Pietro."

Now that you're near the table again, you notice Oshtur's gifts on top, and sigh softly. Seeing the items tells you that you still have a long way to go, but when you look back at Wanda, you know that with her you can do anything.

—----

A couple of many minutes later, after you and Wanda cleaned yourselves from the blood and dust, you with the Vishanti book under your arm, hold Wanda by the hand and lead her to one of the rooftops farther away from all the confusion. Pietro assures you that he will get America something to eat, and Wanda has returned the bracelet of Infinity Stones to the Resistance.

"Dorogaya, what are you up to?" Wanda asked curiously, receiving only a sweet smile and a mischievous look.

"Just trust me, Maximoff." You whisper back and continue guiding her until you reach a terrace. The starry sky looks even more beautiful as the Resistance and the mutants begin with their fireworks, but you are busier watching Wanda.

She smiles at the fireworks for a moment, before turning her attention back to you, and blushing when she realizes that you were looking at her. Wanda gives a gentle tug for you to come closer, and you gladly do so, breaking the distance and meeting her mouth halfway. You smile as you feel her tongue slide into yours, almost forgetting what you came to do when she scratches the back of your neck. 

"We have to talk." You murmur as you break for breath, stealing a few more kisses and laughing softly at Wanda's pout as you pull away to lean on the ledge. 

But Wanda swallowed dryly next, and you knew her anxiety was building. Not wanting her to start thinking it was bad things, you smiled at her, caressing her cheek before you began to tell her everything the gods had told you.

"[...] so that means Wanda Maximoff, that you and I are actually pretty much fated to be together, so you're not getting rid of me anytime soon." 

Wanda has tears in her eyes, and gives a tearful laugh, wasting no time in wrapping her arms around your neck. You leave the book on the edge to hug her back for long seconds, just you and her enjoying the touch and breathing deeply.

"I think I saw you." Wanda says then and breaks the hug to look at you, licking her lips. "This Wanda showed me the day she touched the Mind stone, it only amplified her powers here. But when I touched mine, I saw this golden light, strong behind my own image wearing the Scarlet Witch suit. I always thought it was the light from the Mind Stone, but it was you. Being forged in another world." She counters and you smile, nodding, one hand taking a loose strand of her hair and placing it behind her ear. 

"Oshtur says the stones are connected." You say. "I think I've been with you this whole time without even having any idea about it." You confess with a short laugh. "When I was there, she used magic to stimulate the Stone's energy to come out. The feeling was very familiar. It was like a magnetism, tugging and pulling, trying to attract my attention, or practically demanding it. And I can feel it when I'm around you."

Wanda swallows dryly, hugging you again, and you give a small laugh, but waste no time in matching it. She sniffles softly into your neck, and you hug her tighter.

"Sorry, I just...I think you just ruined my old marriage." She comments sniffling softly, and you give a confused laugh, waiting for her to look at you again. Wanda wipes her tears away, shaking her head. "Vision carried the stone of my forge in my world. That feeling, magnetic? Like you can't look away, and you know exactly when the other is in the room. I used to feel that around him. And when he died, the stone was destroyed I just couldn't feel it anymore. I even met this version of him without it, but I was just shocked, that attraction wasn't there anymore and I just-" Wanda sobs softly, and you kiss her forehead, caressing her cheek.

"I'm so sorry, Wanda."

"God, this's so messed up." She mutters bitterly, guilt in her voice, and you sigh, caressing her back as she rests her cheek against your collarbone.

"I'm sorry, Wanda, maybe he would understand." You try, not knowing much to say about the situation. It was a hard thing, finding out that you never loved someone and were only interested because of the connection to the one you were supposed to meet in reality, but those were the facts, and there wasn't much that could be done about it. Wanda seemed to know because she sighed and nodded.

"He would." She murmured, squeezing you one last time before she broke down, and you wasted no time in wiping her tears away with your fingertips, kissing the tip of her nose and making her laugh tearfully. "You would have liked him."

"He slept with you, I highly doubt it." You playfully retort making her laugh and give you a gentle nibble on the ribs.

"Idiot." She retorts and you steal another selfie.

"Your idiot." You whisper making her blush. Another kiss, and Wanda sighs. "Your wife."

"Mine." She concurs, hands holding your waist as she kisses again, with more intent this time, until she gets an excited groan from you at the feel of her tongue exploring your mouth, and you have to use all mental control to break the kiss and laugh at Wanda's impatient grunt. 

"I need to do something." You tell her in an explanatory tone for stopping the kiss, causing her to look at you curiously. "Guardian thing."

Wanda releases you so you can go to the edge and open the book, watching you expectantly. 

You grin at the 'Commented Edition by Gray Goddess of Balance and Order" written below the title, and as soon as you start to flip through, you see that Oshtur has written comments on almost every page, which make you chuckle softly and attract Wanda's attention - who moves closer and hugs you from behind so she can look too. You lean into the touch, but keep looking for the articles about the Guardian of Order.

This one is different from what Agamotto showed you so many years ago. There are two full pages with two faceless figures on their backs, and the title 'Guardian of Order and Scarlet Witch' with the subtitle 'Rulers of the Multiverse' in gold underneath. When you run your finger over it, the font glows and the figures wake up.

The Guardian - wearing the Golden Armor of Oshtur and carrying the Sword of Order on their back - steps away from the witch's design only to bow softly and extend a hand to the other, who accepts and they begin to dance.

"That is so sweet."  Wanda comments with her chin on your shoulder, and you murmur in agreement, smiling at the figures dancing together. 

You shift your attention to Oshtur's notes at the top about the oath.

The customs of the Ancient Knights required a devotion, something to be loyal to, as was necessary in times of war. Oshtur only requires the Guardian to be loyal to what is in their heart. This is the only oath for a Guardian to find the balance within oneself. 

You bite your lip thoughtfully, fingers tracing the note. Wanda sighs softly, looking at another part of the page and catching your attention.

"Look, Y/N, it's about your tattoo." She says squirming a little against you to point at it, and you feel your face warm as one of Wanda's hands reaches up inside the loose shirt the Resistance people got you to the spot of your tattoo. "Oshtur explained that the tattoo comes about when the forging happens. It serves to recognize the Guardian in the battle between the Knights or something, but it is a symbol of the connection between them and the Witch."

You only grunt softly, but Wanda seems more occupied with the runes and the lessons, her palm against your skin as she is leaning over reading. "Look, malyshka, those symbols are about devotion and loyalty, and..." Wanda stops as she sees how you are squeezing the edge of the ledge and starting to sweat, and lets out an exclamation. "Shit, I forgot! Sorry, moya lyubova'" she murmurs with a giggle, pulling her hand away and placing it on your waist, her forehead resting on your shoulder, and you give a breathless giggle.

You shake your head softly, pushing the hesitation away and clearing your throat.

"No problem, sweetheart." You gasp in a husky voice, and Wanda gives another guilty little laugh, kissing your cheek before wrapping her arm around your waist, resting more weight against you, and making you sigh at the warmth. " Does it say why it's giving you so much power over my body?"

"Hmm, I like it like that." Wanda murmurs mischievously at your ear level, and you laugh hoarsely, giving up answering back because she keeps reading. "It says here that it's just an ancient connecting spell, between our magics that appears with the forge. It's through it that we become able to share our strengths, heal wounds…” A pause to get even closer  “cause the Guardian to come with just some scratch..."

"Is that written there?" You retort amused and Wanda laughs lightly, teeth grazing at your ear and making you shudder. "God, Wanda, you're distracting me."

Wanda chuckles again, but lets her chin rest on your shoulder and strokes your skin with her thumb, encouraging you to continue reading. You sigh as you run your fingers down the pages. 

"Oshtur said that I am sick at having made the Forbidden Forge of another Scarlet Witch and that only you could take the chaos that doesn't belong to me away." You count, and Wanda settles better behind you.

"Me?"

"Mm-hmm." You confirm, tracing the pages. "It must have something to do with the tattoo because Oshtur put that here and-ah" Your sentence turned into a gasping moan as Wanda slid her hands into your blouse suddenly, nails digging into your skin. "Jesus Christ, Wanda." You grunted affectedly, nearly knocking the book off the roof, your whole body vibrating with excitement all at once.

"Sorry, milashka. Take off your shirt please." She ordered, and although your whole body was trembling, you pulled your blouse off in a tug, having to bite your lip to hold back the sounds. Wanda sighed softly, watching the tattoo form completely on your skin. 

She licks her lips as she traces the figure with her fingertips, letting the magic flow out of her hands and smiling in a corner when you grunt, pressing your thighs together. "Don't worry, it'll be over in a second."

"Yeah, I will if you keep this up." You retort in a husky voice, your eyes closed tightly, and Wanda gives a mischievous chuckle. Her eyes are red as well, and Wanda sighs softly as she finds, right at the height of your heart, something different.

"I think I know what Oshtur was talking about." She murmurs to you, not sure you were really listening by the way you have lowered your head, and are breathing heavily. Wanda moves her fingers, and a thread of golden light begins to come out following them, but soon, the yellow sparks turn dark, and she sighs. "It was rotting in there, Y/N, that's why you were sick. I'll make you feel better, love."

As the scarlet sparks came into contact with the dark ones, they changed to a golden color again, and Wanda shivered as the golden threads came into contact with her fingers. "Oh, is this how you feel, baby?" she asks in an affected whisper, her free hand moving to intertwine atop yours at the edge, as Wanda leans closer into you, never ceasing to clean the rotten chaos magic in you and feeling your magics blend together, an intense sensation that makes her sigh with satisfaction. "It's really very good." She slides one leg between yours, and you moan immediately with the friction, feeling your face warm. 

"N-no, I can't hold it if you-"

"Then don't hold it." 

She interrupts with her thick accent and husky voice against your neck and presses her thigh harder, and you let out an intense whimper, your climax coming all at once. Wanda is quick to hold you by the waist as your legs give way and smiles as she deposits several kisses on your shoulder and neck, waiting for you to recover from your high.

"I-I can't, Wanda..." You gasp still feeling your body shaking, her hands on your back.

"Oh, baby, is this too much for you?" She teases, and digs her nails against your back, being quick to cover your mouth when you scream to the sky, the sound muffled on her skin. You begin to push back against her thigh in search of friction and Wanda groans: "God, you're so hot."

But you only whimper, feeling your next orgasm approaching. Wanda hums contentedly, her core throbbing with the magical stimulation on her fingers that goes to her body and the sounds you are making. She kisses behind the back of your neck, smiling as she sees the runes glowing on her touch, before whispering that she was almost done. 

You were about to cum again when Wanda finished the spell, and she was going to make a joke when, without the sensation of her hand on your back, you managed to turn and kiss her hard, surprising her and eliciting an exclamation. You grabbed her by the waist, kissing her hungrily and making her head spin as you both stumble until Wanda's back hits a wall. 

"What a low blow, Maximoff." You commented as soon as you broke the kiss, running your mouth down the other's neck "So, so, mean."

Wanda only gasps, one hand firmly in your hair and the other squeezing your arm as she feels you suck on the sensitive spots on her skin. "How... How can it be mean to make you cum?" She challenges confidently but throws her head back when you slide a hand between her pants without warning. 

"Oh, you know why." You murmur against her skin, your fingers tracing patterns along her wet folds, and your thumb pressing hard against her clit. "So much power over my body, you know I like having the same over yours."

Wanda whimpers as you slide two fingers inside, your free hand moving to pull her thigh up, and the redhead follows the cue to wrap her leg behind your knee, moaning loudly at the new depth the position allows you. 

“Detka, fuck-ah-right… right t-there!” She moaned loudly, her hand firm in your hair.

"Be quiet, baby." You remind her in an affected whisper, your fingers stroking inside her in the rhythm that makes Wanda find it very hard not to scream, her hips trying to throw against your fingers. "You don't want people to come looking for us, do you?" You tease, your free hand reaching up into her blouse and grasping her breast with an open palm, and Wanda has to bite down on your shoulder to stifle the scream that rips her throat, her cunt clenching and dripping in your hand. “You can't let them know that the Scarlet Witch has such a needy pussy.” You tease against her ear, and Wanda feels her face burning, a new wave of heat hitting her lower abdomen. 

She feels you smiling against her skin, and curling your fingers in a way that makes her see stars until Wanda arches her back and loses her ability to control her sounds, and your hand comes to her mouth to lessen the noise. Your eyes meet, pupils completely dilated, but Wanda finds herself blushing even more from the adoration in yours as you continue to thrust inside her hard, and she feels like she is falling over the edge, her eyes teary with excitement. "I know, baby, I know. Cum for me, you're ready aren't you?"

She nods, and you only have to thrust one more time before Wanda moans against your hand, closing her eyes tightly as she feels the orgasm crash over her, fingers curling and her whole body tensing with the waves of pleasure. You let out an impressed sigh, watching her come down from her high, and move your hand away from her mouth to wipe the excess sweat from her face, and help her stand properly. 

Wanda is breathing hard, blinking lazily out of orgasm, and almost has another when you kiss her with your fingers still inside her, a gentle motion with your thumb on her swollen clit that makes her moan. But you break the kiss before it gets more intense, fingers sliding out that make her sigh at the loss, before you bring your hand to your own mouth, and start sucking your fingers wet with her cum in front of the witch, who grunts softly at the image. You roll your eyes at the taste, and Wanda bites her lips, hands moving to your shoulders to pull you back to her, and you remove your fingers just in time to kiss her again.

She moans at her own taste on your tongue, and you smile against her lips, matching the intensity.

"Come on pretty girl, we have things to do." You murmur between kisses hearing Wanda mumble softly. You exchange intense, slow kisses for another long moment until Wanda lets go, an expression of complete satisfaction on her face that makes you smile. "Someone's enjoying herself."

She laughs softly, stealing a few more quick pecks as she warns "We.Will.Continue.This.Later." punctuating each word with one, and joining in your hoarse laugh.

You slide your hand into hers, and call the book back, deciding that now that you're feeling better your studies can wait. And you both make your way downstairs again.

--//--

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x you #elizabeth olsen x reader #marvel imagines #Rulers of The Multiverse #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff #elizabeth olsen #wanda x you #wanda x yn

[noose-lion]

Bsd Dead Apple Quick Analysis: The Ability Fog/Mist

Spoilers: light novels and movie

---

Spark notes version: The Fog reflects how much control a person has over their ability.

I was just thinking, as I tend to do, about the different ways the abilities manifested in Dead Apple with the whole fog incident. Because in some cases we see a very uncanny copy of the the user, like with Kunikida, Yosano, and most of the Ada.

The Ada abilities all looked the same (where it counts). Possible side affect of Fukuzawa's ability?

Or in Mori's, Kyouka's, Auktugawa's, and Atsushi's case we had the visible representions of the ability themselves. Elise, the Tiger, Rashomon, and Demon Snow.

Does Elise appear older here or is that just me?

But in the case of Fyodor, we have an almost completely perfect sentient copy of him.

Interesting how the ability double is wearing Fyodor's usual clothing. Reflection of self?

I find this line, said by Fyodor, interesting.

"I am crime. I am punishment. Crime and punishment are close friends. Borders vanish. Rooms awaken. The incarnation of death, the master of the ability-consuming fog… Eat, howl, and make violence as your instinct desires. This is neither a loss of control nor a singularity."

I've always interpreted that as Fyodor being in such control over himself and in extension his ability, (Though this is conflicting, since it is unclear if Fyodor can turn his ability off and on. I have a theory for that too!) that not even the Fog could affect it. It's perfectly balanced, which he is deeply aware and understanding of, so the Fog has nothing to work with. He is not a slave to his instincts like other ability users.

I assume that a character's ability is a representation of themself, I'd even go as far as to argue that abilities are shaped by the person's life. (Kyouka is a great example of that, but I can go in deep detail with each and every character on this theory) In saying this, I argue that there is a direct link in having control of one's self and having control in one's ability.

All of that just to say, that Shibusawa's Fog, while it turns a person's ability on them, the ability will only be as aggressive in equal amounts to how much control is had over it.

Think about it like this:

Fyodor: Has as much control over his ability as possible (I have a good theory on this!) within the bonds of his ability. So the ability is non-aggressive (toward him) and is fairly sentient, and it appears to just be a copy of him.

Also note the placement of the gem. Not the better protected forehead, but rather the hand.

The Ada: Has fairly strong control of their abilities. Perhaps supported by Fukuzawa's ability. They all appear similarly non-human (maybe another side affect of Fukuzawa's ability) and all are highly aggressive.

Once more, the Ada abilities resemble this so strongly. It HAS to mean something.

Auktugawa, Atsushi, Kyouka: They have little to no control. Aktugawa arguably has the most control of his ability, seen when he uses it to fight. Both Kyouka and Atsushi rely on an outside force to control their abilities. This is reflected by how their abilities appear under the affects of the Fog. Rashomon appearing as a separate entity, but not the same as the actual ability. While Beast Beneath the Moonlight and Demon Snow both are just the abilities themselves.

Side note: Mori would also fit into this category. Curious.

Personally, I saw Rashomon as the most interesting outlier. What is going on here? The gem is not on the forehead nor does it resemble the original ability or it's user.

But here's the real kicker.

Dazai and Chuuya.

We see Dazai's ability separated from him, (when his heart rate is slowed enough for another ability to work on him, I argue that it was more of a will power thing in which I have a detailed explanation on No Longer Human, but that is neither here nor now). His ability takes no form, just a circular mass of power.

The variables for the Fog's effect on No Longer Human is hard to understand due to whole singularity thing we have going on. I've simplified it to the little rhombus/diamond shaped gem = the Fog in affect. We know that it takes the ability killing the user for it to be added to Shibusawa's collection.

Using the logic for the aforementioned abilities, Dazai has no control over his ability, and in extension no connection to himself.

Chuuya is the difficult one. We never see For The Tainted Sorrow separated from Chuuya, (thank you Dazai and your emergency face to crotch) though I did read somewhere that Chuuya's ability couldn't be separated anyway due to something or the other in Stormbringer.

But if we ignore that little tidbit for the sake of the theory. Chuuya was fighting (without his face in Dazai's lap thank you) in the Fog and was never affected by it. This leads me to believe that Chuuya is in complete control of his ability and in his understanding of and connection to himself.

Conclusion: The Fog brings out the affected person's ability in a reflection of the affected person's control over it and their understanding of self.

Which makes me want to take a deep dive into this...

Do with that what you will.

#my stuff #screaming into the void #and the void screams back #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungou gay dogs #bsd analysis #bungou stray dogs analysis #bsd dead apple #bsd dazai #bsd chuuya #bsd atsushi #bsd akutagawa #bsd kyouka #bsd fyodor #bsd shibusawa #quick analysis #jester thinks

[jabbage]

#Letters from Watson #lettersfromwatson

[lordfreg]

LMFAOOOO I forgot to finish/post this when I was still working on this el oh el, so as a birthday gift to me you get half of part 2 from my Monkie kid project read 🠟

here

LEGO Monkie Kid™: Secrets of the Emerald Road - Episode 2: In Grave Danger

×warnings: 〰angst〰×

×unedited×

It was a nice night for Mk, the full moon, lovely music playing through his headphones and a relaxing stroll back to his apparent building.

After the whole "being chased by a giant stone tiger and barely escaping with our lives plus hangin' out with Monkie King all day while training" thing, Mk was kinda tuckered out. He found his way back to his room, setting up his bed, laying out his clothes for tomorrow and pushing out his pillows.

"Can't wait for Mei to come back!" Mk grinned.

He yawned a long yawn and snuggled into bed, squeezing his Monkie King plush doll and quickly falling asleep after.

As the peaceful night went on, it started to take a turn. The serene set of his room started to become more heavy and frightening. A purple mist snuck in through the half-open window, leaking into the room like a liquid. Quickly finding Mk's bed and reaching up like a snake climbing a tree.

It coiled itself around the boy's head, dripping into his subconscious.

Mk tossed and turned in the night, becoming more frantic and panicked in his sleep. This nightmare, it felt a lot more real than anything he's ever experienced before. His feet felt cold; the coldness slithering its way up his body, making him shiver.

The snake-like tentacle was almost done now, it started to retreat out of his room and back into the near by street.

His eyes shot open and he jolted up with a scream. Clenching his heart, he stared at the end of his bed for a moment, taking in everything he was flashed with.

His quick pants became heavy breathing as he realized it was only a dream.

"But it felt so real..." He spoke into thin air.

The tentacle slithered out and down, finding its way back to the one who made it, a mysterious demon, who wore a trench coat, a black turtle neck, big boots and black pants. They started spinning it back into a ball like wool. Starting into the orb they just made, they reviewed Mk's nightmare.

They lightly chuckled, "I've got you now, boy."

Mk fiddled nervously with his phone, "Hey, Monkie King?" The boy looked up from his blank black screen.

"Yeah, bud?" The Monkie responded, taking a bite of a peach flavored chip.

"I..." Mk started, looking back down at his weary reflection, "I had a nightmare.."

The monkey looked empathetically at the boy, "Are you okay with sharing?"

Mk looked surprised at the ginger monkey before smiling, "Uh, sure!"

Monkie King nodded, giving the okay.

"Well, it started like another day..."

"Hey, Pigsy!" Mk smiled at the pig man, "Any delivers today?"

But the pig couldn't bat an eye at him.

"Mr. Tang!" Mk charmed, "What's up?"

Still no response.

"Mei?" Mk called, "YOO-HOO!! I'M RIGHT HERE!!!" the poor boy waving his arms frantically like a bird while bouncing around from person to person.

Still nothing!

"Guys?" Mk called out, "GUYS?!" He started to worry.

The sinking feeling started up again, but this time, he was actually sinking, a pit of black sinking sand grew under him. He screamed as he struggled to get out. Desperately trying to summon his staff, his screams went unheard by his friends.

"Help!" He cried out one last time as the blackness swallowed him whole.

He was blasted of visions of an icey night, glaring at him with glowing eyes. An eye holding the map in its pupil. A princess being guarded by Nezera himself. And a mysterious someone being wounded.

"And after that, I woke up." Mk looked away from monkie king, avoiding his concerned gaze, "I just don't understand those visions, if they met anything at all."

"Hey bud," Monkie King gently smiled as he placed a hand on Mk's shoulder, "Don't push yourself; when you know, you know." He shrugged and continued eating the chips.

"I think they're really important," the boy huffed, "I just don't know what they mean.." He mumbled.

"Ah, whatever, kid." The king sighed, "Hey, what do you say we go and try to open that key again?" He side smiled, a devious glint in his eyes.

"You know it!"

Monkie King picked up Mk and hoisted him on to his cloud, zooming off to Flower Fruit Mountain.

#lmk monkey king #lmk sandy #lmk fandom #lmk fanfiction #lmk pigsy #lmk qi xiaotian #lmk mk #lmk mei #lego #lego monkie kid

[potatos-messy-mind]

So i decided to put this up here. I wil eventually be making one for Chun, no worries, but wanted to post this here for future reference for myself and anyone else who needs it. Since this is going to be a big reference sheet, I will include any and all reference images that are important. At the top are References for Tao's appearance, and below that are images of certain items he has with him at all times amd any other images that are relevant.

But first, I'm going to include each artist who drew the images, including the two so far that i've drawn. If any more images that relate to Tao's powers are made, I will update this with said image and the proper credit.

Artist creds

On Twitter: lupinebones77(Most of Tao's current refs aside from King and the inscence burner)

melocelli (Kaiju form)

torikalmia (King and the Incense burner)

deni_acp (Yang image)

On Deviantart: TropicalIndigo (Jinjing image)

My art: Tiger/Snow Leapord Hybrid, Li Yun(Electric/dark big cat).

Some general Info about Tao before we get into his powers.

Relationship Status: Taken by their partner/Fiancée Zihou

Age: est. 1500 (at least half the age of Wukong and Macaque)

Gender: Intersex (both male and female genetalia)

Pronouns: He/Him, She/Her, They/Them

Sexuality: Demisexual

Mental illnesses: Autism, ADHD, Anxiety, Depression, DID (magic makes this work somewhat differently in demons from how it presents irl), CPTSD

Physical Illnesses: Asthma, Pulmonary Atresia

Incense Burner/Ball and Chain Weapon

This incense burner is wrapped around Tao's waist and tends to spew some of his mist magic at any given time. It acts as both a weapon and storage. It can be used similarly to the ball and chain weapon from twilight princess, but can grow and shrink depending on what Tao needs. Misty spikes appear on the sphere when Tao is using it as a weapon.

King

A plushie made in Wukong's likeness that Macaque made for Tao when she was little. They told Macaque what clothes he wanted the little guy to wear, after seeing a future vision of baba wearing his more modern outfit. Has several small pocket dimensions inside of him that Tao can go into at any time.

Tao's Powers

Blessings of the White Snake

• Forked Tounge

• Hands(all four) can morph into snake heads

• Heatvision (Using his forked tounge.)

• More liquid/snakelike movement

Powers from Sun Wukong

72 Transformations

• Panda(Bear)

• Phoenix (Bird)

• Tiger/Snow Leapord hybrid (Big Cat)

• English Lop (Rabbit)

• Chow Chow (Dog)

• Long Eared Jeroba (Mouse)

• Chinese Moon/Silk Moth hybrid (Bug)

• Maine Coon (Domestic Cat)

• Datong (Horse)

• Impressed Tortise (Tortise)

• Yellow Pond Turtle (Turtle)

• Leatherback Turtle (Sea Turtle)

• Dulong Cow (Bull/Bovine)

• King Cobra/Burmese Python Hybrid (Snake)

• Chinese Water Dragon (Lizard)

• Tokay Gecko (Gecko)

• Chinese Alligator

• Eastern Dragon

• Yangtze Finless Porpoise (Porpoise)

• Hainan Eld's Deer

• Himilayan Marmot

• Steppe Polecat (Ferret)

• Asian Small-Clawed Otter

• Asian Badger

• Rhesus Macaque/Golden Snub Nosed Monkey Hybrid

108,000 Leap Somersault

Useful, but can cause Tao to have an asthma attack if preformed too fast or in a place with lots of debris.

Chi Manipulation

Mainly used in exorcisms and not in actual combat with living beings.

Flight

Loves soaring all on her own. can use his body to propel himself around and even gets help from the wind.

Replication/Shadow Cloning

Makes misty clones that can take on a physical appearance if nessicary.

Telepathic communication/Astral Projection

Has links to Wukong, Macaque, Chun and Zihou, but can easily astral project to anyone so long as they accept.

Flaming Fist of Fury

Strengthened by the Yang Samadhi fire to dangerous levels

Lazer eyes

Has the ability to use this power, but has never done so.

Gold Vision

Capable of using this in it's original state, and an altered version that allows him to see as if he wasn't blind.

Kaiju Form/Smoke Generation

Inherited from both parents (I will go i to more detail about his Kaiju in Macaque's section.)

Powers from Liu Er (Macaque)

Enhanced Hearing

Although Tao only has one extra set of ears, his hearing is still very sensitive.

Shadow Manipulation

Tao's shadows are more fluid-like in appearance compared to Macaque's.

She is capable of calling upon their mother's shadows should he ever find the need to.

Shadow Cloning/Replication

Clones usually take on a misty, cloud-like appearance, but have the ability to turn into identical clones to the original. Shadow clones of Macaque's can also be summoned if needed.

Shadow Transportation

Tao can use this ability easily, and the shadows tend to do most of the work for him. Macaque can sense each time Tao uses the shadows to warp.

Smoke Generation /Kaiju form

A misty form with a stone-like mask and chest plate with all four of the hands being stone as well as some stone bits around her wrists and tail. This form has three alternate forms depending on Tao's mood and the element that corresponds to it.

The Kaiju's base form

Height: Mainly between 120 Meters (394 Feet) and 158 Meters (521 feet), but can shrink to smaller heights. (Imagine the heights between Godzilla in Godzilla vs. Kong and King Ghidorah)

Fire Form

Uses the Yang half of the Samadhi Fire to further fuel itself. The base form has only parts of Tao's hair, the twin tips of his tail and around his wrists ignite, the same places where his stone parts are excluding the stone mask and chest piece. This differs fron his fiery wrath form, in which the entire body of the kaiju is engulfed in flames, which burn any and all they come in contact with.

Water Form

Uses the primal power of Tao's water abilities to fuel it. This form is rarely used for fighting and more as a method of escape, as it can seemingly 'melt' into any large body of water and vanish. Every time this form appears, heavy monsoon-like rains follow. This form is completely made of water with the exception of the stone bits.

Dual Form

A mix of all three forms and is the most destructive in terms of passive property damage. It has currently never been used, and for good reason. It's power alone rivals the power of the primordeal gods of old. The Yang Samadhi fire is unaffected by the water from this kaiju.

Powers Unique to Tao

• Echolocation

• True Sight (A modified verison of Gold Vision that allows Tao to see as if he wasn't blind)

• Familiar creation, allowed him to summon a unique companion based deeply on his personality. There are currently three. These three count as pokemon in the Pokemon AU I have for Tao.

Yang (Height: 9'2" Feet)

A fiery ghost dog that has been Tao's friend and companion since they were young. He used to be a living being, a half hellhound. Died protecting his master, and once in the Diyu he became so distraught and enraged over his master still being in danger that he singlehandedly broke out of the Underworld by digging himself out. His flames were so intense at that point that no one could get close without severe casualty to their person, not even the 10 kings. He lost all skin on his paws and head aside from his ears in the act, and successfully escaped to return to his master's side.

He is the only being aside from Wukong that has successfully escaped the Diyu, and since his only goal was to be reunited with his master, the ten kings decided it wasn't worth trying to bring him back. His bays, barks and howls is so intimidating that most sane beings will instinctively flee upon hearing it. He is semi-incorporeal. he consumed his own body as a spirit upon returning to battle and can choose to be more ghost-like or not. Yang often stays in Tao's incense burner/pokeball, or his master's shadow when not needed at that moment. Yang can control his flames to the point that allies will not be burned by them, but instead feel very warm. He's the perfect heater on cold winter days.

Jinjing (Height: 3'5" Feet)

A spunky fishy fox familiar that has also been with Tao since she was young. She acts like a service animal when Tao goes out and about, since Yang and Li are too big to do so without issue. Yang may be able to phase through walls but his Aura is extremely intimidating even for Erlang's hounds. and Li is far too big to be able to fit comfortably in most places. Jinjing knows DPT, can retrieve Tao's medicine on command, and helps to break them out of anything from a spiraling episode to ADHD paralysis (Not a medical term). Those big blue flowing antennae can act as hands if she really wants to use them. The webbed collar is backwards to help with drag in the water. when she flips it out, it helps slow her down in the water and causes drag. She can also inflate it enough to keep her head above water.

Li Yun (Height: 6'0" Feet)

The newest of the familiars, Li is the second most intimidating of the them. They can summon lightning storms at will and are capable of absorbing electricity. Their barks can sound for miles, and wherever they step, thunder and lightning are said to follow. They are generally neutral in most affairs and are more reserved than their Fire and Water counterparts. If Li isn't running about and stretching their legs, they're either in Tao's incense burner/their pokeball, patrolling Megaopolis from the rooftops, or by their Master's side.

• Feelers by his ears that allow him to sense the most subtle changes in the atmosphere.

Past/Future Sight

Able to see into the past or future. This ability is very different how his mother Liu Er sees into the past and future. Tao can only see one type of vision at a time. The triggers for both visions are very different and he can only see one type at a time. The inner color of his each represent the past (Purple) and the future (Yellow). When having either vision, his eye swill glow a pearlescent white color, and some kind of sparkling dust matching the color of the inside ear comes out of the corresponding set of ears.

The past visions are usually triggered by physically touching an object that either has a spirit or spiritual energy attached. Places that have a lot of spiritual energy can also trigger a vision the moment Tao finds a high enough concentration of energy. Sometimes he will move around during these visions, coming to in places he didn't pass out in.

Future visions are different with the exception of the glowing eyes and yellow dust. These visions can happen at any time, and leave Tao completely immobile until it ends.

Those who ingest the dust from either set of ears will temporarily gain the ability of future sight or past visions. These only have one use and may drive one mad the more they ingest. Humans and demons from all over sought to capture Tao for his oracle abilities, and to collect the dust he creates during a future vision.

Yang Samadhi Fire

Unlike what has been told about this powerful flame, in reality it was split into two seperate pieces long before the birth of Red Son. Tao possesses the 'Yang Half' of this flame, equally as powerful as the 'Yin' Half Red Son was born with. What is different about this flame is that ist is less likely to be triggered by emotion, but for Tao anger is the only trigger outside of activating the flames himself.

The flame tends to have more untriggered power behind it despite being of equal power to the Yin half. This flame tends to have a higher power output in the spring and summer months in accordance to Yin and Yang. It is a calmer flame compared to the Yin half, which feeds off of the emotions of it's host, and in Red Son and Mei's case makes it harder for the host to control their emotions.

The Yang Half of the flames is the only thing capable of completely calming the flames of the Yin.

In the primal days, the combined flames were said to scorch anything it touched into nothing, and was split in two in an attempt to mitigate the intense damage it caused when it raged unchecked. For the time being, the Samadhi Fire will remain seperated until the proper time.

Water Manipulation The ability to use and manipulate water (In a similar mannter to the water benders of ATLA, but with some differences.) to his whim.

Thanks to the maleability of the water in his body plus the blessing of the White Snake, Tao is able to extend his limbs far past their normal limits. when using this ability they can move around as if there are no bones in his arms. They can also extend and retract at will.

An extension of this ability is an extremely dangerous one,

Blood Bending

Tao is able to control the blood of living beings, being completely capable of controlling their bodies. Most beings can attempt to resist and break free, but anyone blood related to Tao will be unable to control their body until he releases them. This only works on Wukong, Macaque and Chun. Tao doesn't like using this power often, however he often uses liquid bending to help defeat any construct that uses a similar circulatory-like system.

When they were younger, Tao would often cause some unintentional issues, as when she cried, rain would start to fall in a certain raduis around him and quickly become monsoon level rains if left unchecked.

Siren Song

Tao has a singing voice similar to the likes of sea sirens, being able to influence and/or control others through his voice. His voice is also powerful enough to rip flesh off of bone should he choose to use it, or cause the user hearing it to go mad. However this power is rarely used due to Tao not wanting to cause potential death and/or property damage. The inside of her mouth glows yellow when using this ability. Glamours/Illusions

Tao can use glamour to take on a human appearance at any time, and prefers to not look so much like a monkie. He can also make illusions with his shadow abilities.

Water Warping/Portals

Tao is capable of using a very unique method of travel similar to shadow warping. The main difference is the stream of magic that is being used. Warping through water is usually done by oracles, as the stream of water magic used to travel is also the closest to the timespace stream, the flow of time and space around that entire dimension, In it's own pocket dimension, a seemingly strange place where water flows around breathable air in a tubelike tunnel from all sides. This is an area that only oracles can access, and with the floating islands scattered about it is safe for them to make living areas there.

Water Portals

These take more concentration to use, but are very handy for travel; as the requirement for warping is different. Unless the place is somewhere Tao has visited before, he can warp to and from any large puddle or body of water to anywhere in the world, even places he hasnt visited before.

Tao can also breathe underwater, but doesn't really need to breathe at all.

Primal Diety

Tao and his sister have full control over certain elements, regardless of the control gods from China and other pantheons have. In other words, an example being that the gods of the sea (ex. Posiedon) loose their control if Tao extends his control of water to the entire planet, same with fire.

Misty Form

Tao can turn himself into mist at will and change back at any time. He is more succeptable to being trapped in items like jars with an airtight lid or enchanted items of the same ilk, but he can return to a shrunken form at any time, or change back to his normal size and potentially break the item holding him if it isn't strong enough to contain him.

Fairly Recent Abilities

Tao was kidnapped by the Spider Queen some time during her attempted takeover of Megaopolis in the season 2 finale. See tried to turn them into a spider demon, but the only thing the venom did was give her silk glands in her hands that produce high quality enchanted silk (Silk moth like silk). This is abnormal since there is no other creature that can create enchanted silk naturally, so Spider Queen took quick advantage of this, using Tao as a silk producer for her takeover. Unfortunately making so much silk at once caused Tao's pawpads to become agitated and inflamed, and they stopped producing enchanted silk. Fortunately he managed to escape before the Lady Bone Demon tried to capture him for his half of the Samadhi fire.

The silk strands come out through the pawpads on their hands, and by pressing them together and stretching his arms apart, the silk forms into thick, glowing strands with each motion. This raw material can be used in many products from clothing to armor to fabric.

Misc. Info

• Tao is capable of storing immense amounts of magical power and has more potent magic than his twin sister. His snake heads, when not hands can sink their fangs into a person and suck their life essence and even their soul from their body.

• They a connection to death and the 10 kings, and his mist magic is capable of acting on its own and raising the dead, mainly those who's lives were tragically cut short.

• She sometimes sleepwalks, and depending on the phase of the tide, either moves around like a slow shambling zombie (low tide) or gets aggressive in his sleep and goes into water kaiju form (High Tide). this is one of the only times the water form becomes aggressive.

• Being physically intersex leaves him a target for European alchemists from all over.

• Sometimes purple and gold christhamanthemums spring from her bare feet whenever they touch natural ground. (Think Amaterasu from okami when she runs) these flowers have very potent medical properties.

• Their familiars are an extension of his magic and personality given form, and usually reside in his incense burner/Pokeballs/Shadow (Yang only) when not needed or resting.

• Her fire antlers were once crystal-like purple horns, that upon awakening the samadhi fire burst into flame. These flames started small in the beginning, but grew with age. They shrink to a smaller size during sleep.

That's everything I have at this time! This will be updated each time there is a change or new reference image. If you've read this far, thank you for actually reading all the way through! I would give you a cookie if I could. Tao is one of my most developed OCs, and I hope you've enjoyed reading this, I put a lot of research into him and the AU he's a part of as a whole, and I can go into more detail on the world building I've done at a later date if anyone is interested!

#lego monkie kid oc #commissioned art #shadowpeach fankid #powers and abilities #my art #not my art #Tao Yin

[a-cacophony-of-silent-words]

Still Breathing Part One: Into The Tiger's Den

Chapter 6: Hook and Line

It’s cold. Not really something Alvin thought would bother him, but in this moment it commands his attention. Distracting him from the task at hand; Waiting and watching. He sighs and his breath forms a mist, that fades into nothing almost as quickly as it took shape. The frost is making him regret he left the jacket behind in his motel room, it's even making him miss his old cape. The cape was good for keeping warm at times like this, even if he did hate the fact that pretty much everyone dragged him around by it when they got the chance. Heroes, villains, even civilians on occasion. Fun times.

Shaking the reverie from his mind he tries to focus, he’s come too far in the past five months working towards this moment to let something like cold distract him. Bruce would be disappointed in him for the way he’s used Batman’s teachings lately, but Bruce wouldn’t have approved of going back in time at all. What Alvin gets up to in the interests of saving this damn family isn’t bound by Bruce’s opinions anymore. Besides, there’s no real point in worrying about that now. He’ll be disappointing Bruce and probably everyone else he’s ever known a whole heck of a lot more before the year’s out. Hell, before the night’s out if things go even a little wrong. But if that’s what it takes… then that’s what it takes.

Something stirs in the undergrowth on the forest floor below. Alvin tenses and leans out just a little from his perch in a giant evergreen tree careful not to dislodge any of the snow further out on the branch. He waits. Watching intently. Was it just an animal? Is his target running late? He should be here already.

No, wait. The undergrowth parts and a person dressed in thick black winter gear from head to toe, face covered by a mask and goggles, steps into view. About damn time. Operation: Piss Off Ra’s al Ghul is a go.

Without a sound, he drops out of the tree onto his target and knocks him out. Quick as he can, he trades clothes with the assassin and ties him to the tree. Not the most ideal of situations, but it’ll do. He doesn’t have time to do any better and if nothing else the guy can be grateful that Alvin didn’t leave him next to naked as well as unconscious in the snow. The clothes themselves fit nicely, which is a relief, Alvin had to watch for days before he found an assassin who looked to be the right size. He’s none too happy to know that the kid is maybe sixteen at most. Oh well, no use grumbling about lost inches now.

He cuts through the woods in more of a straight line than the usual patrol route and runs most of the way to make up for the time he lost trading clothes with his target. Reaching the last stretch of undergrowth he slows to a more leisurely stroll, adjusting his posture and stride to match the assassin he’s trying to imitate. The forest opens rather abruptly into a large circular field around a concrete building. It’s not a particularly large structure above ground, but Alvin knows he’s walking over decent sized complex just below the surface. It’s not the largest League of Assassin’s facility he’s ever infiltrated but its purposes are mainly storage of resources so it’s certainly not small. Which maybe makes it a terrible choice for a mission like this, but there are other reasons Alvin chose it over any of the bases in say Iran. Very good reasons.

A guard standing just to the right of the only entrance to the building watches Alvin approach. This is the most nerve wracking part of this plan. He’s been counting off the minutes since he left the assassin in the snow but if he’s off by even a little it could ruin the whole plan. Too early and the guard will figure him out before he even gets inside. Too late and he risks the next patrol finding their unfortunate coworker before he can get anything done.

Pushing his worries to the back of his mind Alvin keeps his breathing and movements steady, by his calculations he’s right on time. The guard makes a slight gesture with one hand as he slows to a stop. Asking the assassin if he saw anything on his route. Easier than trying to make out voices muffled by thick cloth. Alvin shakes his head. She nods and waves him on.

Mentally sighing in relief, he walks through the door and down the stone stairs into the base itself. At the bottom of the stairs he starts taking his time, pretending like he’s looking for something in front of the cameras. Not for the person on security duty, but for the recording. Better to not look like he knows exactly where he’s going when the tape gets reviewed later.

But he does know exactly where he’s going. If his meddling with time didn’t somehow manage to change the schematics of the place – the ones he memorized when he was Robin – then his goal should be… Ah, perfect!

He takes a turn down a random hallway walks until he finds a blind spot for the cameras, then doubles back, being especially careful not to get caught on any footage. He slips through the shadows until he gets to the camera just across from the security room. Standing just below it he pulls his bo staff out of the assassin uniform and extends it. Gently peels a panel off the bottom of the camera and sticks one end of the bo staff up against the circuit boards. He hits a button and the circuit’s spark and fizzle. The small red light on the front of the camera goes out.

Immediately Alvin moves over next to the door and waits. A moment later a very confused looking guard pokes his head out and Alvin promptly hits that head with his bo staff. The guard goes down like a sack of bricks. Alvin looks inside the command center, confirming his suspicion that there’s no one else in the room. No one’s really expecting an attack on a completely out of the way storage complex. He pushes the unconscious guard into the room and steps inside, locking the door behind him. Just in case he ties the guard up with a bit of twine he brought with him. The last thing he needs is this guy coming to and causing problems.

Now to do what he does best; fuck with Ra’s al Ghul’s tech.

He pulls the bulky rifle that came with the clothes off his shoulder and leans it against the wall next to the console. Removing the goggles too and leaving them on the floor. Not going to need those anymore, but it does remind him of something important. If the countdown in the back of his mind is right the next patrol is about to find the assassin Alvin left in the snow. They’ll raise the alarm fast as hell if Alvin doesn’t shut down their comms now. So he does, as discretely as possible. Nobody should know their communications are down for a little bit yet.

From there he goes deeper into the system, setting up all the little things that will keep anybody who tries to undo what he’s about to do to the system busy for a good few hours. Ra’s really needs to get techies who know better than to link so many important systems together like this. Oh well, he’s about to learn that lesson soon. Alvin sets up the final touches and checks the cameras. The latest patrol is running up to the door guard. Busted. Too bad… for them that he’s had plenty of time. He cuts power to everything but the cameras. If all goes well they’ll think he left the cameras working to drive home the ‘message’. Really it’s more like sending in a video resume. All part of the plan.

He takes a few moments to prepare himself and watches as the door guard gathers a few people to her. With a small group secured she starts leading them down into the facility, heading directly for the security room. Smart. He’ll have to keep an eye out for her in the next phase of his plan, she could be trouble. Speaking of which, about time he got started on that next phase. He climbs up on the console and starts fiddling with the screws holding the vent cover in place.

This facility was built long before Ra’s had ever encountered Batman and it was built to accommodate a fairly large amount of people. People who would need a lot of air. People who would need a way to escape if part of the building collapsed. So the vents were built large and with the intention that someone would be climbing through them. They haven’t bothered remedying that design flaw because it’s unlikely Bruce would ever take interest in this place. It’s definitely going to work in Alvin’s favor tonight though. He gets the vent open and holds it open with a pen as he carefully hoists himself inside. Safely inside the vent he kicks the pen loose and pulls the hood on the uniform up over his head.

Time to become the boogeyman.

.

The League assassins are well trained. Skilled in the art of killing. Capable of fighting under a vast variety of conditions. Willing to do anything to succeed in whatever mission they’ve been given. But they’re not immune to fear. Fear is a deadly weapon in the right hands, especially against people who don’t think there’s anything left for them to fear.

Alvin, perhaps better than most, knows how to terrify League assassins. Anyone can become unnerved by darkness. To have to fight an enemy they know nothing about who wears that darkness like a second skin is terrifying. Even to trained assassins. This is something Alvin can easily use to his advantage. Unexpected fear of what you’re fighting can lead to mistakes and not being able to see what you’re shooting at can lead to bigger mistakes.

Of course, Alvin himself is no stranger to fighting in conditions where he couldn’t see at all. Taking down enemies who are carrying flashlights and other light sources just in the vague hope of catching a glimpse of him is a piece of cake. There are a few who are capable of fighting in the dark, but they’re hardly King Snake. A few more have equipment – whether thermal or infrared – that allow them to fight like they might’ve if the lights were on, but those have wider blind spots than the ones with flashlights. Anyway it’s barely more than a few so it’s hardly an inconvenience.

Could’ve been a lot more trouble if shutting off the power hadn’t meant he ensured they couldn’t open the locks on their supply vaults. Sure, if he gave them time they could maybe get in manually, but he doesn’t have any intention of giving them time. Most of them go down fast and hard before they ever even see a vault door.

Their numbers are starting to dwindle, Alvin thinks maybe there’s twelve left. Out of the sixty-five in the facility to start with, that’s not bad. He reclines against the wall of the vent above an access point, catching his breath. The last fight was annoying. One of them clipped him with a knife and he’s still assessing the damage there. God, he’s so ready to be done with this. Back to work--

He freezes. There’s a dim semi-circle of light in the hallway below, growing steadily brighter and spreading further as he watches. Someone’s coming. He rearranges himself silently in the vent. Waiting.

A pair of assassins come into view, picking their way down the hall towards where Alvin had left his last group of defeated assassins. They’re walking almost back to back, shining flashlights in any direction they hear a noise from. Much more on their guard than any of the others. There’s something in the hand of one of them. Looks like maybe a transceiver. Someone, it seems, thought ahead for comms going down. Alvin’s willing to bet he knows who it was too. He hasn’t seen her at all since he got started. She’s probably back at the control center trying to get everything back online. It’s what he’d do. Thanks to her these two might be a tad more difficult to take out. Alvin really hopes Ra’s is paying her well, she deserves it. He follows the pair silently, waiting for an opportunity. Anything will do really. Just a distraction is enough.

They come across a group of their allies that Alvin left lying on the ground, mostly unconscious… probably. Slowly the one in front scans the group with his flashlight, less like he’s surprised, more like he’s looking for something. He must find it because he starts cursing when the light stops on a particular assassin and turns on the transceiver. Apparently that assassin was a pivotal part of their plan. Too bad he’s way too unconscious to be of any help. Alvin hears a rough voice respond with disappointment. She orders them to continue on to the vault, warning them that they shouldn’t linger too long or lapse in their guard.

It’s a warning that comes just a little too late. Alvin was ready to move the moment they started paying more attention to the radio than their surroundings. As she finishes speaking, he kicks the grate above the pair open and drops straight down onto the shoulders of the one taking up the rear. He uses his weight and a little momentum to toss this assassin into his companion.

He’s back on his feet before either of them can gather their wits. They’re scrambling for the flashlights they dropped in the collision, but Alvin’s faster. He swipes a knife off an already unconscious assassin and jabs it into the crook of the closest assassin’s arm, pulling it out as he spins to kick the other in the face. Ducking under a swipe of a knife held by the assassin behind him, he elbows the man in the crotch and sweeps his legs out from under him. That’s one down.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees the other assassin finally grab a flashlight off the floor and take aim. Alvin dodges back out of the glow of the flashlight. Staying just out of the light and moving quickly Alvin makes a much less easy target. Flashes of gunfire light up the room in brief intervals, bullets whiz by their mark coming to rest in the walls, the floor, and finally in the skull of the assassin Alvin had just knocked down.

The shock of hitting a friendly must hit the assassin hard, because he hesitates for just a moment and a moment is all Alvin needs. He moves in from the side knocking the gun and flashlight from the assassin’s hands before he can react. Swinging behind him Alvin locks an arm around the assassin’s neck and holds on tight. The assassin struggles, trying in vain to grab on to Alvin or shake him off. Gradually he falls to his knees, grasping at Alvin’s arm, trying to pull it away, struggling for breath. The strength in his desperate pulls slowly fades until his arms fall to his side and his body goes limp.

Releasing his hold on the assassin and letting him fall to the ground Alvin retreats a bit sinking to the floor. He’s just catching his breath, he tells himself. The voice of door guard demands updates from her subordinates somewhere to his right. Alvin turns his head to look at the radio lying in the blood of the dead assassin. This is probably as done as his job is ever going to be here. If this were the League Alvin knew from his original timeline – the Ra’s he knew – he never would’ve made it this far. He knows after this Ra’s will adjust and he’d never survive a second attempt. After all, as much as he hates the man, Alvin will never deny Ra’s is damned good at what he does. Right now though, Alvin is in a unique position of holding all the cards. All the months of playing cat and mouse with lackeys, all the sacrifices he’s had to make, and it’s all amounted to this. He needs to make it count.

Bait for a really dangerous fish.

Ignoring the way the blood soaks through his gloves, Alvin picks up the radio and takes a deep breath. “I’m afraid they can’t come to the phone right now, may I take a message?”

There’s a beat of silence, then the woman speaks in her thick, Russian accent, “You think yourself funny, yes, intruder? But when I catch I swear--”

“Let’s not go making promises we can’t keep.” Alvin cuts off what was sure to be a most gruesome threat against his person. He looks up at the nearest camera. “Listen, we could play this game all night, but I think I’ve already made my point pretty clearly, haven’t I?”

She’s silent.

“You have maybe nine people left with you, right? But you’re not stupid enough to think they’ll be any more difficult for me to take down than the last fifty.”

“…And you are not stupid enough to come hunting me when I know you are coming,” she responds, a bit more sedate now. “So our battle has come to stalemate.”

Alvin laughs ruefully. “Not really, it was never a fight between you and me after all. No… you all know what happens when I’m crossed now. If you’d be so kind as to pass that message along to the Demon’s Head, I’d be most obliged.”

“Bold, little shadow,” she says, slowly. “To know who it is that you trifle with and still do such things? I do not know if you are fool or simply crazy.”

“Well…” Alvin closes his eyes for a moment. “I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

He drops the transceiver back to the ground and flips the hood of his stolen assassin uniform back up. Time to get the hell out. It’ll be a while before they get the power back on so by the time Ra’s gets his message Alvin will be long gone. It’ll be some time before he knows if he’ll get a bite… or if he’ll get bitten.

.

The Demon’s Head is unreadable in this moment. His eyes flicker from screen to screen as the events of the previous night unfold across them. One of his long fingers taps slowly against the side of his wine glass as if he were deep in thought. What those thoughts might be however is unknowable. He could be enraged at his assassins for failing to defeat one, young, unarmed intruder or perhaps he is angered at the nerve of the intruder himself. Maybe he is assessing the intruder’s work and planning how he will take precautions against such things next time or working on a strategy for revenge. There is also the possibility – however slight – that he is… interested, even impressed.

Rurik does not know. He has only relayed what was told to him by the survivors and has tried not to make any judgments on the intruder for himself. Though he cannot deny that an impression has been made. The intruder made short work of many skilled assassins. Some of them will never fight for the Demon again.

“How long in total?” The master asks, abruptly.

Caught off his guard at being addressed, Rurik does not know the question he is being asked. “My lord?”

Languidly, the Master’s eyes turn towards him, fixing him with that sickly green gaze for a terrifying moment. “From the moment he attacked the patrol to the moment he defeated the last operative, how long was it?”

“T-two hours, twenty-five minutes, and thirteen seconds, my lord.” Rurik answers, dutifully.

“How many casualties?”

“Of the sixty-five operatives in the base… two.” Odd. Potentially quite impressive, considering the damage that had been done to many of them. Twisted limbs, broken bones, some will be discarded as they have become useless to the League. Still the intruder had managed to avoid killing nearly anyone himself.

“I see.” The master leans back in his seat, sinking into the soft cushions and silken cloth that adorn it. He watches as the footage loops on the screens before him in silence for some time. Then he speaks again, almost as if to himself, “He is fascinatingly skilled for one so young… Every move is calculated far beyond what previous reports on him have stated.”

He glances down at the papers that Rurik had brought him, reports of encounters assassins had with this same young man. Encounters that had led to a futile attack against him. Seeming not to find what he was looking for the master lifts his gaze to the screens once more.

“His skills rival the detective’s, perhaps not as refined, but significant in similar fashion.” The master’s eyes narrow abruptly and he hisses, “How did he learn that?”

Rurik blinks and directs his attention to the screens as well. One of the attacks the intruder uses is eerily familiar. To his embarrassment it takes Rurik a moment to realize that it is a League killing technique, though it has been modified to be less lethal there can be no doubt. This man fights as though he were trained alongside members of the League.

“Hm…” The master sighs and sets aside his wine glass. “What information has been discovered about this young man?”

That question has only invited disappointing news. “Not much I fear, my lord.”

“Tell me all that you have uncovered,” the master responds, unbothered, as he leafs through the reports.

“As you command.” Bowing his head his head slightly, Rurik nods to the assassin controlling the screens. “Unfortunately, we have discovered nothing of his origins, we presume he is American, but we have found no documentation relating to him in our searches. In many ways it seems as though before May of this year he did not exist. At that time he began operating as a mercenary in the area of Ethiopia.”

Images of the young man appear on one of the screens. His hair had been shorter then, his clothes had been somewhat out of place. He had looked better suited to playing video games in a college dorm room than mercenary work. As they say though, looks can be deceiving, it is perhaps unfortunate that they had not thought to regard that old saying before last night.

On that thought, Rurik continues, “He carried out his first mercenary job near the border of Ethiopia and Somalia, a group of people were requesting that someone remove a local crime boss from the city. The intruder took this quite literally it seems. He kidnapped the man, took him into the wilderness with no method of returning to civilization, and abandoned him bound hand and foot in the desert just over the border in Somalia. He then proceeded to cut the legs out from under the man’s entire organization, destroying it entirely in less than a week.”

This information earns a raised eyebrow from the master, he seems almost amused by it.

“He took similar contracts as he traveled north. His first encounter with the League was in Yemen, where he stole a kill from one of our top assassins. From there he continued to steal kills or otherwise inhibit our work. He became a minor, but annoying thorn in our side, so we sent a mid level assassin to eliminate him, as this attack happened only days later and we have not heard from that operative, we presume him to be dead. That is all we know of him.”

The reports pass across the screen apparently unheeded, the master seems far more interested in the map of the intruder’s path from Ethiopia. “By what method did he travel?”

“We are uncertain, my lord,” Rurik admits. “We presume as his method of travel is undocumented that he managed through hitchhiking and stowing away.”

“Such an effort.” The master places a hand on his chin, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “He travels in a nearly straight trajectory for five months by the most difficult and dangerous means. I applaud his skill in planning but I do believe he failed to account for what this method of travel would make evident. He was aiming for that facility from the start.”

“M-My lord?” The questioning exclamation slips unbidden from Rurik’s mouth. Normally he would not think of speaking if not asked a question, but what the master has deduced seems near impossible. The thought is ludicrous. For a random young man who has never encountered the League before to not only have wiped out one of their less conspicuous locations but to have known about it this entire time? It is unthinkable. What vendetta could he have against them to warrant such dedication? Or is it perhaps--

Abruptly, a smile spreads across the master’s face and a chill runs down Rurik’s spine. “Find him. At once.”

“Y-yes, my lord.” Rurik bows. Hesitantly he ventures the question, “…and when we find him?”

“Bring him to me.” The master lifts his wine glass and reclines in his seat, his eyes drifting closed, his expression changing to one that resembles a large contented cat that has already caught the rat. “I would be remiss to not welcome such a promising recruit personally.”

.

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#argothia's writing #argothia's fanfiction #fandom: bat family #story: still breathing part one: into the tiger's den #series: still breathing

[greatcombinations]

#tiger mist clothing

[mysterymirrors]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Vintage 80s/90s Men's Bill Blass Flannel Button Down - Red/Black - XL.

[amankumar1018]

Capturing Bhutan's Natural Beauty: Photography and Landscapes

When it comes to experiencing the pristine beauty of the Himalayas and immersing oneself in a culture deeply rooted in tradition, Bhutan emerges as a top destination. The allure of this enchanting kingdom has been beautifully encapsulated in Bhutan trip packages that promise an unforgettable journey through breathtaking landscapes, vibrant festivals, and serene monasteries. For photographers and nature enthusiasts, Bhutan offers an unparalleled canvas to capture the essence of its natural beauty. As you embark on your Bhutan adventure, keep in mind these Travel Tips for Bhutan to make the most of your photographic expedition.

Travel Tips For Bhutan: A Visual Journey

Respect Local Customs and Traditions: Bhutan is known for its strong adherence to tradition and culture. When capturing photographs, always ask for permission before taking pictures of people, especially during religious ceremonies or in intimate settings. This will not only yield more authentic and respectful photographs but also contribute to positive interactions with the locals.

Pack Accordingly: The diverse landscapes of Bhutan, ranging from high mountain passes to lush valleys, demand a variety of clothing. Layering is key to adapting to the changing weather conditions. Remember to pack sturdy hiking shoes, warm clothing, and rain gear to be prepared for any photographic opportunity.

Leverage Golden Hours: The soft, golden light during sunrise and sunset can transform your photographs into magical works of art. Bhutan's landscapes, adorned with ancient monasteries and prayer flags, become even more captivating during these hours. Plan your photography excursions to make the most of these ethereal moments.

Capture Festivals: Bhutan's festivals are a vibrant display of its rich culture. With the Travel Tips for Bhutan in mind, respectfully photograph the lively mask dances and traditional performances during festivals like Paro Tsechu and Thimphu Tsechu. Remember that some religious ceremonies may have photography restrictions, so always inquire beforehand.

Embrace Minimalism: Bhutan's natural beauty often speaks for itself. Use minimalist composition techniques to emphasize the serenity and purity of the landscapes. A single fluttering prayer flag against a backdrop of mist-covered mountains can evoke a sense of tranquility that words often fail to convey.

Engage with Locals: The people of Bhutan are warm and friendly, often willing to share stories of their land. Engaging with them not only adds depth to your journey but also opens doors to capturing candid portraits that reflect the genuine essence of the Bhutanese way of life.

Wildlife Photography: Bhutan boasts a diverse array of wildlife, including rare species like the snow leopard and the red panda. If you're interested in wildlife photography, consider hiring local guides who possess knowledge about the best spots for wildlife sightings while adhering to ethical practices.

Landscapes Beyond the Obvious: While iconic sites like the Paro Taktsang (Tiger's Nest) Monastery deserve attention, venture off the beaten path to discover hidden waterfalls, remote villages, and untouched landscapes. These lesser-explored areas can yield unique and refreshing photographic subjects.

Environmental Responsibility: As you capture Bhutan's natural beauty, remember to be a responsible traveler. Follow the principles of Leave No Trace, avoid disrupting the environment or wildlife, and support initiatives that promote sustainable tourism and conservation.

Architectural Wonders: Bhutan's architecture is a blend of tradition and innovation. The intricate details of dzongs (fortresses) and lhakhangs (temples) offer captivating subjects for architectural photography. Ensure you respect the sanctity of these places while taking photographs.

Elevation Challenges: Bhutan's high-altitude regions can pose challenges for both photographers and travelers. Stay hydrated, acclimatize properly, and be mindful of any altitude-related health issues to fully enjoy your photographic journey.

Storytelling Compositions: Create a visual narrative with your photographs. Combine images of landscapes, people, and cultural elements to tell the story of your Bhutan experience. A series of photos can often convey the essence of a place more effectively than individual shots.

Local Cuisine and Markets: Food is an integral part of any culture. Capture the colors and textures of Bhutanese cuisine and visit local markets to document everyday life and the ingredients that make up the unique flavors of the region.

Change in Seasons: Bhutan's landscapes transform with the changing seasons. From the vibrant blooms of spring to the snow-covered landscapes of winter, each season offers a new perspective for your photography. Plan your visits accordingly to witness this natural metamorphosis.

Starry Nights: Bhutan's relatively low light pollution makes it a great place for astrophotography. Capture the Milky Way stretching over monasteries or serene lakes for awe-inspiring night shots.

Technology Backup: While Bhutan offers unparalleled beauty, technology can sometimes be limited in remote areas. Carry spare batteries, memory cards, and any necessary equipment to ensure your photography isn't hindered.

Cultural Sensitivity: The Bhutanese hold their spiritual beliefs close to their hearts. When photographing religious sites, practices, or objects, maintain a respectful distance and avoid intrusive behavior.

Local Guides and Insights: Engage local guides who can offer insights into the best photographic locations, cultural nuances, and hidden gems. Their knowledge can elevate your photographic journey.

Post-processing Patience: Once you return, allow time for post-processing your images. Reflect the natural beauty you witnessed through minimal enhancements, keeping the authenticity of the landscapes intact.

Spread Positivity: Share your Bhutan photography and experiences with a positive message. Contribute to the promotion of responsible tourism, cultural appreciation, and environmental preservation through your visual storytelling.

In conclusion, Bhutan's natural beauty is a photographer's paradise waiting to be explored. Through these Travel Tips for Bhutan, you can capture not only stunning landscapes but also the spirit of a nation that cherishes its heritage and environment. As you journey through this captivating land with your camera in hand, remember to not just take photographs, but to also create a visual ode to Bhutan's majestic charm.

#Travel Tips For Bhutan #Best Travel Tips For Bhutan

[yestourismindia]

Tiger Hill Unveiled: Best Time to Visit!

Tiger Hill, nestled in the heart of nature's embrace, holds a distinct charm that unfolds uniquely in each season. Choosing the best time to visit this awe-inspiring destination can elevate your experience and leave you spellbound. In this article, we'll explore the wonders of Tiger Hill throughout the year, from the vibrant blossoms of spring to the serene winter wonderland. 

Tiger Hill's Geographic Splendor: 

Tiger Hill, located in the mesmerizing landscape of [Region], boasts unparalleled natural beauty. Its rolling hills and lush greenery create an enchanting ambiance that captivates visitors year-round. The hill holds immense significance in local folklore, making it not just a destination but a cultural landmark. 

Understanding the Weather Patterns: 

To fully embrace the charm of Tiger Hill, it's essential to acquaint yourself with its weather patterns. Each season offers a unique experience. During winter (December - February), the hill dons a snowy mantle, while spring (March - May) brings an explosion of vibrant rhododendron and cherry blossoms. Summer (June - August) offers pleasant weather and clear skies, perfect for exploring the region. As autumn (September - November) sets in, the landscape transforms into a golden paradise with its captivating fall foliage. 

The Magic of Spring Blossoms: 

Springtime at Tiger Hill is a spectacle of colors and scents. The hills come alive with blooming rhododendrons and cherry trees, painting the landscape with hues of pink and white. To fully immerse in the spring magic, equip yourself with a camera and capture the splendor of nature's artistry. Here are some photography tips to elevate your experience: 

1. Use a macro lens to capture intricate details of the blossoms. 

2. Experiment with different angles to find the perfect composition. 

3. Utilize the soft morning or evening light to add a touch of magic to your photos. 

Embracing the Summer Glow: 

Summer brings a pleasant respite to Tiger Hill, with mild temperatures and clear skies. This is the perfect time for outdoor activities such as hiking, trekking, and picnicking amidst nature's glory. However, keep in mind that summer is also the peak tourist season, so plan your visit accordingly to avoid crowds. 

The Enchanting Monsoon Experience: 

Tiger Hill's allure takes on a mystical charm during the monsoon season. The hills are draped in mist and clouds, creating an ethereal ambiance. To make the most of your monsoon visit, be sure to wear appropriate clothing and follow safety guidelines, as the trails might get slippery. 

Autumn's Golden Hues: 

As autumn approaches, Tiger Hill transforms into a golden wonderland. The landscape is adorned with a mesmerizing tapestry of red, orange, and yellow hues. Stroll through the trails and experience the serenity of this season, which is perfect for introspection and rejuvenation. Don't forget to pack your camera to capture the captivating fall foliage. 

Winter Wonderland at Tiger Hill: 

Winter is a time of enchantment at Tiger Hill, as the hills are blanketed in pristine snow. Embrace the winter wonderland and indulge in activities like skiing and snowboarding. However, ensure you are well-prepared for the cold weather and carry suitable gear. 

Exploring Wildlife and Biodiversity: 

Beyond its scenic splendor, Tiger Hill is a sanctuary for diverse flora and fauna. Engage in birdwatching and wildlife photography, as the region is home to various bird species and animals. Admire nature's wonders and support conservation efforts to preserve the rich biodiversity. 

Beyond Time: Nighttime Delights: 

The allure of Tiger Hill extends beyond daylight hours. At night, the sky transforms into a canvas of stars, perfect for stargazing and celestial wonders. Capture the magic of the night through your camera lens and immerse yourself in the tranquility of the nocturnal world. 

In Conclusion: 

Tiger Hill offers a kaleidoscope of experiences throughout the year. From the vibrant hues of spring to the snowy embrace of winter, each season unfolds a unique facet of its beauty. Whether you seek adventure, solitude, or simply a connection with nature, Tiger Hill will leave an indelible mark on your soul. Plan your visit wisely, and let the charm of this enchanting destination unfold before your eyes. 

#what is the best time to visit tiger hill #darjeeling gangtok tour #darjeeling tour package price #gangtok darjeeling tour plan #darjeeling tourism package #tourisim #tourism #tourist

[7r0773r]

Self-Portrait in the Zone of Silence by Homero Aridjis, translated by George McWhirter

THE JAGUAR

              Tepeyollotli, heart of the mountain

1

That one who was the image of rain no longer leaves trails through the jungle, the gold discs of his eyes no longer blink brightly.

He isn't to be seen in the morning sun floating on a log down the Sacred Monkey River. His solar pelt is a rug.

The heart of the mountain no longer wears black-and-white markings on its chest nor does the volute, cloud of speech that names things scroll from his molten jaws.

His mute cry booms out my extinction.

2

Sad jaguar of the mythologies who on devouring the sun devoured himself, who on turning into the devouring Earth devoured his own shadow in the night sky.

Orphan god of the Underworld who, on following in the tracks of man, was tricked by his masks and fell into his snares.

Poor jaguar of the resplendent, in his skin he carried death.

3

Before words when, in the bowels of the night, there was neither fowl nor tree nor fish nor river nor sun in the night sky, the jaguar meowed.

4

The jaguar that went away is on its way,

the jaguar that came back still hasn't come

the jaguar of we two within you watches me from outside

5

Our bodies two solar jaguars faced off in the night will end clawed up in the total dawn

***

THE WHITE CAT OF EARLY MORNING

                                             For Chloe, Eva, and a cat called Benita

Alone in the solitude of the living room the white cat of the first light sought me out among the pieces of furniture slip-covered in green cloth. Her eyes, used to sizing up the immensurable shapes of the night, explored the corners in the house as if no one, nothing, were there.

“Where has that one, who knew my name, gone? Where has that one, who slept beside me, got to? Who will open the closed door of the early-mornings for me, to let me sleep our cold every-morning sleep in bed?” she appeared to say to herself standing at the top of the stair, reminding me, always, with her face that would fit into a hand, that God created a cat so man might have the pleasure of stroking the tiger.

No longer does anyone give her the water of shadows to drink. No hand lifts her in the long nothing-to-do day. Left abandoned, one nightfall, in a shoebox on our doorstep, a little girl took her in. Since then, looking at us with unfathomable, disobedient, disdainful, almost ungrateful eyes, held close, she held herself distant; believing her ours, we never did know her.

***

GARDEN OF GHOSTS

                                                            For Mama Josefina

1

The pear tree with its pears isn’t aware it’s a ghost. Geraniums, roses, bougainvillea, trailing over the ground in a lapsed splendor of purple petals, are unaware of their own absence.

All are gone. The women visiting, the rains, the goldfinches, dogs, the creaking of doors, the voices, gone, and you alone, my invisible mothers, are here.

2

Birds drawn on the blue notebook of the mountain, childhood angels drowned in a basin among the dried-up flowers of memory, age-old mythologies scaling the walls down which redknee spiders crawl, transparent bodies in the passageways that come upon us like a wind to lead the way to buried treasures, namelss creatures that spy on us through cracks in rickety doors that only the air moves, pale figures, attempting to take shape on the mountain when the sun has gone in are aspects of me, quivering with unreality on the hill of gold.

3

Along the cobbled street ran the little girl, Josefina, dressed in percale and shadow

a bandit had come into town by way of the graveyard to steal women and was reaching arms out to lift her up-and-onto his black horse

through the street she ran, terrified, the small shadow with big eyes who would one day be my mother.

4

I was not aware that flowers may be the ghosts of their own morning and spook a boy who searches for his reflection in the misted-over mirror of his empty room.

I wasn't aware that the flicker cast ahead of his steps is like the whip of shadows left behind by an unremembered relative on the floor tiles.

And that my deaf aunt with the white braids, so like La Llorona,* who bathed me under the setting sun, went about rapping on doors in the air.

Come, digger of graves from my childhood, come and play in my garden of ghosts, the game of love and death.

*La Llorona is a wailing ghost roaming the earth in search of her children, whom she drowned.

***

BORGES IN FRONT OF THE MIRROR

The hotel in Morelia had a great mirror. Acquired along with a wardrobe in an antique shop, the mirror was priceless. A young woman opened the door to the room, set his suitcase on the floor, and went out. Borges said nothing. He remained seated, dozing beside the open window. The garden smelled of roses. After a few minutes, the blind author rose from the chair and brought his face to the mirror without seeing himself. Then, he ran his hand over the flat pane and felt the cold looking glass. Then, returned to the chair.

***

CODA

at the hour of his death they say Turner began to mix pure colors with solar rays

he dreamed tender yellows cobalt blues and angels standing at the edge of a cloud

with that amalgam of animated shadows and warm colors they say he made what lies beyond close by and the distant visible

***

WITH CORRUPTION

                They have brought whores for Eleusis                 Corpses are set to banquet                                 - Ezra Pound, Canto XLV

They built houses for the poor with corruption, painted fake heavens over the church altars, wrote lies on elementary school blackboards, marked their face with the sign of the beast avarice, passed on the rapaciousness of their fathers to their children, with corruption they plundered the lands of their ancestors, fouled the waters for their descendants, cut down the tree of life and through the roots of the mother ceiba, disfigured the effigies of their primordial beings, their millionaires made millions of the poor, they sold their daughters into the sex markets, and turned borders into venal territories, converted the country into a hellfire of death, with corruption they sold the Virgin's pearls,  sat harlots at the altar of their gods, brought criminals along to banquet with their judges and sent hucksters into the House of Song.

***

INSOMNIA

It all began with the images I was afraid to lose on closing my eyes that might not be there on opening them.

It all went on with the bolting night- mares that ran through the streets knocking down doors and walls.

It all kept up with the chimeras, awakened under the black moons flowing along the river of poetry.

It all took place in the night within me, in prenatal time, in the workshops of the resurrection, when I was prone to blackouts of conscience.

It all began before I was born, in the world of the contingent beings, when we are exposed to thirst and being orphaned.

It all began with the long insomnia of the infinite inside of us, which dogs us to the grave.

***

FOR BETTY, AN AUTUMNAL POEM OF LOVE (excerpt)

I don't love you for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you.

***

THE CREATION OF THE WORLD BY THE ANIMALS

                                                         (according to the Popol Vuh)

Across an empty darkness, across unmoving sky, flashed scarlet macaw— so day broke; and yellow orioles with turquoise eyes began dancing a solo of light

and within a mighty ceiba tree, the “mother of birds,” appeared a skinny spider monkey his privates dangling—and howler monkey, scriving prophesies on the mirror of dawn, and a lunar owl, perched on death's arm.

Caiman lurked on a river bank, his back marked with celestial stripes, and sharp-fanged jaguar pursued the fleeing deer; and eagle, aloft on clear wings, spied the horizon— and all was a feathered dream: yellow and green.

Then figured from water, clay, and wood, came woman and man: offspring of the sun, children of forest and mountain, with their eyes they could behold themselves, their voices named the animals.

Heart of the Sky, Heart of the Sea Heart of the Earth beat as one, and all the winged creatures, creatures of the waters and the land could be, breathe, love, and cast shade. And life is re-created every day.

***

SELF-PORTRAIT IN THE ZONE OF SILENCE (excerpt)

At the foot of life and death's double pyramid, the god Quetzalcoatl offered flowers and butterflies to his followers in place of human flesh.

And amid such splendor, only the sadness was mine.

#homero aridjis #book quotes

[miniaturemoonheart]

I was midwife of birth and death.

My medicine grew in fields and forests:

Mandrake.Yarrow. Henbane.

My heart beat in time to the spin of the earth.

I spoke only truth.

I would not be silent.

I would not speak the name of their god.

So they cut out my tongue.

I was an oracle. I was She Who Sees.

I saw the tracks of the stars and the path of the swallows,

The sun rising in the stones and lichen on tree trunks.

I would not cast down my gaze in front of their masters.

So they burnt out my eyes.

I was Creatrix. Pleasure was my magic.

My body writhed, moss against the arch of my back

As I howled my ecstasy to a strawberry moon.

I knew no shame.

I birthed when I chose.

I bled on the earth.

I would not hide my blood.

So they ripped out my womb.

I was sovereign. I knew no greater power than that of my own body.

I was not afraid of the dark.

I was Shakti.

I was wild, untamed.

I ran with the wolves and swam with the seals.

I raged with the wind and wept with the rain.

I would not be controlled.

So they bound my hands behind my back and slaughtered my children, one by one, in front of me, As I begged and screamed and sobbed.

“Help me,” I cried.

But my sisters whispered and turned away,

Their own children too precious to lose.

They hung me from a sacred oak.

As the blood dripped from my broken body, staining the blackthorn pyre beneath my feet,

I made a vow

Of silence.

And the terror settled into my bones, like sand.

II

For hundreds, thousands of years, I slept like this:

Obedient, chaste, demure.

Tamed.

My voice, my eyes, my blood, my magic, my power, my truth, all hidden in plain sight

In women’s bodies, coiled like a snake,

Concealed

By shame and fear.

They knew that I was not dead

So they masqueraded a parody of me through children’s dreams:

grotesque, warted, cackling

and bad to the bone,

A role model for no-one.

This was their greatest subterfuge.

When they heard my name, people trembled,

The truth was forgotten:

That I was a healer, a seer, a force of nature, a woman free of shame.

III

I slumbered on

But I could not sleep forever.

I heard a sound, what was it?

The death song of a shrike perhaps?

The padding footsteps of a lonely tiger?

And then I felt the blood.

It swelled in my womb and gushed from every cell in my body:

The blood of shame, the blood of pain,

The blood that forever kept time with the moon.

The disobedient blood that kept flowing from a wound that would not close.

I howled in agony

And opened my eyes.

I blinked

And looked around in disbelief at the withered, treeless earth,

Her arteries clogged with a filthy waste,

Her lungs choked.

She was not as I remembered her.

“Where am I?” I whispered.

The earth answered:

“You are home.”

The clothes they had dressed me in, I tore them from my body.

I put my hand to my breast to check my heart was still beating.

I reached down to my vulva and caressed her

And dipped my fingers inside that long forgotten passage.

At first, I felt nothing.

I persisted.

The numbness gave way to pain.

I pressed my cervix and the cries of a billion women,

Raped and beaten and silenced and murdered,

All over the world and through all of time

Seared my flesh with white heat,

And finally,

Finally,

I unleashed the rage that had built in my body for a thousand years:

A terrible screech, an animal howl, a guttural scream,

That split the sky

And rained back down on the earth as shattered glass.

And then the honey.

Sweet, orgasmic waves

Merged my body with the earth and the stars

And I was almost whole again.

There was work to be done.

I broke a branch from a willow to use as a wand.

My pelvic bowl was my cauldron.

I made magic.

I remembered that I had not always been alone.

I called out to my sisters: “Where are you?”

And their sleep muffled voices echoed back to me through the mist:

“We are here.

We are here.

We are here.”

-Midnight-🖤🩶

[belamuse]

I was midwife of birth and death.

My medicine grew in fields and forests:

Mandrake.

Yarrow. Henbane.

My heart beat in time to the spin of the earth.

I spoke only truth.

I would not be silent.

I would not speak the name of their god.

So they cut out my tongue.

I was an oracle. I was She Who Sees.

I saw the tracks of the stars and the path of the swallows,

The sun rising in the stones and lichen on tree trunks.

I would not cast down my gaze in front of their masters.

So they burnt out my eyes.

I was Creatrix. Pleasure was my magic.

My body writhed, moss against the arch of my back

As I howled my ecstasy to a strawberry moon.

I knew no shame.

I birthed when I chose.

I bled on the earth.

I would not hide my blood.

So they ripped out my womb.

I was sovereign. I knew no greater power than that of my own body.

I was not afraid of the dark.

I was Shakti.

I was wild, untamed.

I ran with the wolves and swam with the seals.

I raged with the wind and wept with the rain.

I would not be controlled.

So they bound my hands behind my back and slaughtered my children, one by one, in front of me, As I begged and screamed and sobbed.

“Help me,” I cried.

But my sisters whispered and turned away,

Their own children too precious to lose.

They hung me from a sacred oak.

As the blood dripped from my broken body, staining the blackthorn pyre beneath my feet,

I made a vow

Of silence.

And the terror settled into my bones, like sand.

II

For hundreds, thousands of years, I slept like this:

Obedient, chaste, demure.

Tamed.

My voice, my eyes, my blood, my magic, my power, my truth, all hidden in plain sight

In women’s bodies, coiled like a snake,

Concealed

By shame and fear.

They knew that I was not dead

So they masqueraded a parody of me through children’s dreams:

grotesque, warted, cackling

and bad to the bone,

A role model for no-one.

This was their greatest subterfuge.

When they heard my name, people trembled,

The truth was forgotten:

That I was a healer, a seer, a force of nature, a woman free of shame.

III

I slumbered on

But I could not sleep forever.

I heard a sound, what was it?

The death song of a shrike perhaps?

The padding footsteps of a lonely tiger?

And then I felt the blood.

It swelled in my womb and gushed from every cell in my body:

The blood of shame, the blood of pain,

The blood that forever kept time with the moon.

The disobedient blood that kept flowing from a wound that would not close.

I howled in agony

And opened my eyes.

I blinked

And looked around in disbelief at the withered, treeless earth,

Her arteries clogged with a filthy waste,

Her lungs choked.

She was not as I remembered her.

“Where am I?” I whispered.

The earth answered:

“You are home.”

The clothes they had dressed me in, I tore them from my body.

I put my hand to my breast to check my heart was still beating.

I reached down to my vulva and caressed her

And dipped my fingers inside that long forgotten passage.

At first, I felt nothing.

I persisted.

The numbness gave way to pain.

I pressed my cervix and the cries of a billion women,

Raped and beaten and silenced and murdered,

All over the world and through all of time

Seared my flesh with white heat,

And finally,

Finally,

I unleashed the rage that had built in my body for a thousand years:

A terrible screech, an animal howl, a guttural scream,

That split the sky

And rained back down on the earth as shattered glass.

And then the honey.

Sweet, orgasmic waves

Merged my body with the earth and the stars

And I was almost whole again.

There was work to be done.

I broke a branch from a willow to use as a wand.

My pelvic bowl was my cauldron.

I made magic.

I remembered that I had not always been alone.

I called out to my sisters: “Where are you?”

And their sleep muffled voices echoed back to me through the mist:

“We are here.

We are here.

We are here.”