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outofgloom · 9 months

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PAIN AND THEN DARK

The suns of Metru Nui were bright and hot. Too hot, for too long. The heatwave had lasted a year so far and showed no sign of stopping. The meteorologists could not explain it; neither could the seers. Various protocols had been enacted across the Metru to protect and maintain the city's infrastructure, but at times it seemed like a losing battle.

The skyline of Ko-Metru was looking rather pathetic today. The Metru of Ice was the hardest hit by the rising temperatures, and perhaps the most miserable as a result. Another of the great Ice Spires had destabilized during the warm night and collapsed, filling the streets with quickly-muddying slush.

"Woe unto us!" cried a Nonguite street-prophet, standing strategically beneath the shade of a protometal joist, now exposed by the melt. He was maskless as usual, and clearly reaching the limit of his strength.

"The world shall end in heat-death, it is foretold!" he continued. "See how the eyes of Mata gaze down upon us, examining us, judging us. Closer he bends, and we are like insects before him!"

Ioro ignored the ragged Matoran, as did most everyone else. He stooped into the underhang of the crystal tower's base, noting that the usual permafrost foundations were deteriorating here as well. He made a note to shore them up when he left.

The Ice-Toa allowed himself a small expenditure of elemental power, dropping the temperature of the air rapidly, and entered through the low doorway.

"Soon shall the end come!" the distant voice crowed. "Shed your masks, and meet him with your true face!"

A Ga-Matoran glanced up, feeling the icy coolness Ioro brought with him into the medical ward.

"I was summoned," Ioro said. "Another heat-stroke?"

"Not quite," said the Ga-Matoran. She looked down at her tablet, beckoned for him to follow. The ceilings were a bit higher here, allowing the Toa to stand upright as they navigated the halls.

"Patient is identified as Kylda, of the Lower East Sanctums."

"That is Kylda, formerly of the Eighteenth Tower of Knowledge, for the record."

"Mhm."

"What has happened? Is he alright?"

They rounded a corner. Various medical personnel scattered as they passed through the center of the ward. There were whispers. The Ga-Matoran finally stopped at another doorway, examining her tablet again.

"Hang on, let's see...You are the 'Ioro' listed as a direct associate of Kylda in the Ko-Metru central records, correct? I have a mask-record on file for you, but it seems it was from...uh...before."

She gestured vaguely up and down the Toa's body. Ioro flashed his Metru identification morosely. They entered the patient room.

There was a low bed, and various mechanica beside. Ioro reached the bedside in one stride. The figure lying there did not move.

"Kylda..." he mused to himself. Then, to the Ga-Matoran: "Tell me."

"He asked for you by name when they brought him in, but lost consciousness soon after. That was several hours ago. He was--"

"--What happened to his eyes?" Ioro interrupted. "Why the bandages?"

"Ahem. He was clearly overheated from wandering outside, but the most substantial injury was to his oculars. I'm afraid they are completely destroyed."

"What?! How..."

Ioro bent closer. The bandages were woven beneath Kylda's mask, hiding whatever terrible injury lay there. His mask...

"The eyeholes of his mask are...They appear to be..."

"Burnt," the Ga-Matoran said. "Yes. We've ordered a new one from the temple-vault, but I'm not sure that..."

She trailed off.

"He is dying."

"Yes. You arrived just in time."

"You are certain?"

"Yes."

"What can I do?"

"I don't believe there was anything that could have been done. The damage goes deeper than the apertures themselves. We have made him comfortable, but it will not be long now."

"I see."

"There is more: A representative of the Metru Council was here earlier, and she delivered me this directive. I have it...uh...right here. It's for you."

The Ga-Matoran stepped forward and offered a small tablet stamped with the Council Seal. Ioro took it and turned away to read.

For the eyes of Toa Ioro only. Summon Rau for this cipher.

Ioro shifted to his Mask of Translation, read further:

Report of a disturbance at the Second-Channel Observatory Sanctum, Ko-Metru sub-district fourteen. Target of interest is Kylda, formerly Inaku Kylda, formerly of the Eighteenth Tower of Knowledge (position reverted). Intelligence suggests that this Matoran intended to engage in further repetition of illegal astrological activities.

You are designated a direct associate of this target, with knowledge of the target's history. A representative was sent to the Po-Ko Medical Ward, Ko-Metru sub-district nine, where Kylda was admitted, but it was determined that interrogation was not possible at that time. Your directive now is to go to the Second-Channel Observatory Sanctum, Ko-Metru sub-district fourteen, and determine what activities may have taken place there.

Any data derived from these activities is to be destroyed, in accordance with the Prohibitions. Report back to Station, sub-level three of the Coliseum when complete.

Ioro looked up from his tablet. Kylda's breathing was shallow. The mechanica chirped steadily. The Ga-Matoran waited at the door.

"Give me a moment with him, please."

The Ga-Matoran backed out of the room.

Ioro stood still, gazing down at his friend. He looked small to Ioro--all Matoran did, of course. But even smaller now, lying there. It had been too long since they had spoken. He'd worried that Kylda might do something, left to his own devices. Return to...old obsessions.

Ioro glanced back to the doorway. Low conversation in the central ward beyond. No inquiring eyes. Quickly, silently, he knelt beside the bed, hand to Kylda's scorched forehead, and shifted to his Mask of Telepathy.

Down through the shifting psionic waves, through the twisting mental pathways he searched for fleeting remnants of consciousness. Thoughts flickered past, muddled and indistinct. He pushed on, seeking a place of cohesion, of active awareness.

At last, blurry impressions began to resolve, and he felt a faint presence.

"Kylda, I'm here," he said with his mind-voice. "Do you know me?"

"...Ioro?" the answer came slowly.

"Yes."

"Ioro, you are...You came! Where are we? It's dark..."

"We are in your thoughts, my friend. Perks of being a Toa."

"I can hear you. I think I've been...dreaming."

"You've been unconscious."

"They gave me some of the numbing fruit at first, and that helped."

"Are you in pain?"

"No, no...not anymore."

"That's good. I'll tell the healers."

"How long..."

"Just a few hours, I think. They found you on the street and brought you in."

"No, I mean...how long do I have left?"

"...What?"

"I can feel it, Ioro. I was...crawling. I was outside for a long time, in the sunslight. It was too much; I can feel it in my core."

"Let's not rush to--"

"Don't lie to me."

A long pause. Ioro searched for the words.

"I'm sorry, Kylda," he said at last. "There...there isn't much time left."

"I see. It's my own fault. I couldn't stop myself."

"Please tell me you didn't. You know the Prohibitions."

"I made a mistake, Ioro."

"Why? After all that happened, after losing your place at the Tower..."

"I don't know why. I couldn't help it, somehow. It's been on my mind for so long. The work was...It was unfinished."

"It should have stayed unfinished."

"No, it had to be done...And I did it, Ioro. At long last, I did it!"

Another pause.

"Tell me."

"I snuck back into my old observatory--you know the one. I planned it all out, brought in all my things. I'd been doing the calculations for years. It was easy to make the proper adjustments, just like before."

"Just like before...so you violated the Prohibitions after all. I had hoped--"

"Curse the Prohibitions! You know how I feel about them."

"Yes, of course--"

"--Divining of the suns and moons tells us just as much as the stars. More, even! They are a direct link to the mind of Mata Nui. A terrifying thought, that we Matoran could look the Great Spirit in the face. I've always said the seers are too small-minded, too set in their ways."

"--Spare me the speech, Kylda. You sound like the street-prophets."

"Don't say that. You know that hurts me."

"I'm sorry."

"Anyways...well, I did it! The suns were just rising at dawn. I adjusted the great lenses of the telescope and trained it at Akuavo, the upper sun, and affixed my old tinted lenses. I kept some of them, you see..."

"Of course you did."

"And I looked...and I looked through...I saw..."

The telepathic voice grew quieter.

"Kylda?"

"Saw..."

"Kylda stay with me."

"Ioro...my friend...I think..."

"I'm sorry, Kylda. I should have been there. I should have stopped you."

"I think I saw...no...No!"

The mindspace agitated, convulsed. Ioro felt sick, but held on.

"Can you hear me?"

"I saw it! Oh, I saw it for sure, and it burned me, Ioro. It burned me in my eyes, in my brain. I thought the lenses would be protection enough, but I was a fool."

"That's not true."

"I looked into the eye of Mata. I looked and he judged me!"

"It's over now. There's no need--"

"--Behind the suns, Ioro. It was there."

A shudder went through the mental pathways. Ioro felt a pang of something. Dread...and that old curiosity.

"...What was there, Kylda?" he asked after a moment.

"What did you see?"

==========

The observatory was dark and cool, well-shielded from the warm air outside. Ioro had finished his catalogue of items, wiped the remaining records from the various memory crystals. Not a trace was left. It had been a long process, sifting through the various materials Kylda had brought in, making sure the Prohibitions were kept. The long sweltering night was almost over by now.

The Ice-Toa brushed dust from his hands. He was overdue to report in. Station would have a reprimand for him, in all likelihood. He was normally very punctual. Very precise.

He stepped toward the low door.

"...What was there, Kylda? What did you see?"

He stopped, hand hovering over the access panel. Slowly he turned, fixed his eyes on the mechanism that dominated the small, domed space.

"I must tell someone, or I'll never be at peace. But you must promise..."

The telescope was of the usual kind: a shaped flute of metal, fixed to a stone pedestal. The great crystal lens was not visible beyond where it intersected with the dome.

"Promise that you will tell them. That my work...our work...will not be in vain."

"Kylda, I don't know."

"Swear it!"

Dread...and curiosity. The eye-piece branched from the base of the telescope, a blank eye pointing downward.

"I...I swear."

There was a dark spot on the floor of the chamber, a small scorched hole burned into the stone.

"Behind the eyes of Mata, Ioro...Behind the suns. I saw...another. A greater sun. I saw it. Stark and terrible, in a greater void. And not only that: a thousand lights, ten-thousand...all around. All staring at me out of the emptiness. Unreadable. And then pain. And then dark."

Ioro realized that he had forgotten to remove the last of the tinted lenses Kylda had affixed to the eye-piece.

He shook himself and stepped forward, stooping beneath the curved metal. That would have to be destroyed as well...

"I don't understand."

"Maybe you can't...Maybe...But know this: After I fell and crawled in the fire of Mata's judgement, this question was burned into my mind: If our suns are truly the eyes of Mata Nui, as the mad sages claimed of old...Then what...then what...then what...then what..."

"It's alright, Kylda. I'm here. It's okay, you don't have to--"

"--then...what...Eyes!"

The telescope stood above him with its great lens pointing skyward.

"...are...looking...down!"

The eye-piece stared at him expectantly.

"...down upon...Him...upon...Us...from that greater void?!"

Dawn crept over the horizon.

"Tell me!"

And then pain.

And then dark.

#bionicle #art #writing #fanfiction #outofgloom #works

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weaselle · 8 months

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story idea just hit my brain like a purse full of bricks (would work good as a tv show maybe)

setting and characters: the crew of some turn and burn bar and restaurant (sort of like waffle house meets applebees and always super busy)

The staff is used to being slammed to hell every saturday night, but on this particular saturday night, hell was becoming far too real...

the sudden re-emergence of magic into the world has resulted in a near apocalyptic situation, especially as magic has returned at 100 times its old strength. So there are demons and angels and vampires and centaurs and things just, everywhere now.

before the dust settles into a new routine, there are a lot of casualties on the normal human side, and tho that number comes back down as the world adjusts, it continues to be an elevated statistic in this new world full of orcs and imps and demi-gods and werewolves and things.

So when things first kick off, it's like the end of the world, and the staff of this restaurant just, keeps serving whoever, or whatever, walks through the door, since providing a service seems to be keeping them relatively safe. They have to get very creative to cater to some of the new guests, and they don't leave to go home because they are afraid of everything going on in the streets.

it is the story of a ship crew, battling the elements, but the ship is a busy restaurant, and instead of the vast sea and terrible tempest, it's the magic apocalypse swallowing the world just on the other side of that door, and inventing a gallon sized cocktail for the crazy slug monster that just ate a bar stool.

After a little while, the clientele itself is what keeps things going smoothly, as even a werewolf will mind their manners if they walk in and see a demi-demon at one table and a necromancer at another with a gaggle of vampires enjoying some bloody marys at the bar.

Several other employees show up with nowhere else to go and a couple of the magical guests wind up getting hired for various reasons to fill out the ranks enough to allow 24 hour service with off shifts (this also goes a long way toward being able to cater to the new appetites they have to feed - perhaps a necromancer cook or a sorcerous bartender.

the patrons enjoy having a decent modern restaurant that's still operating, and resent having their nice meal interrupted, so woe unto anyone who starts any shit within these four walls

And that's how the Crackpot Hearth (or whatever) became neutral and sacred ground in this new and nightmarish world, where people and creatures can all have a drink and a bite to eat in peace, while for the restaurant staff things are about the same actually, but a lot more interesting.

#story idea #this is why i never get very far on my WIPS #because i always think of something new instead

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darkness-beyond-ink · 2 months

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The Cursed Beauty 🧛‍♀️

She knows not of her name, nor of her past.

She only knows the woe of being curst,

A living off'ring for some ancient sin.

She roams the barren land, in quest of hope,

But finds nought else but death and dreariness.

She is not lonely in her agony.

There are more like her, with the selfsame gem,

Condemned unto the selfsame destiny.

They are the Curst Ones, chas'd by the Dark Lord,

Who seeks to have their pow'r for his own use.

He is the one who curst them, long ago,

In furious spite and envy of their grace.

He is the one who hides their visages,

That none may see their beauty, or their grief.

She hath forgot how oft she hath met him,

And how oft she hath fled from his pursuit.

He ever finds her, wheresoe'er she goes.

He ever mocks her, with his bitter words

And his deform'd and twisted countenance.

He ever tries to take her gem, and life,

But she resists him, with her valour and her art.

She knows not wherefore she defies him still,

Or what she hopeth for in her despair.

She only knows she cannot yield, or die.

She only knows there must be some escape,

To free herself, and them, from this foul dream.

She only knows she is the Cursed Beauty,

And that she will not cease to strive and fight.```

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eccentricmya · 2 months

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You've heard about the Oathless Fëanorion (chosen by popular vote to be Caranthir)... Now get ready for:

The Allergic Fëanorion

While one Fëanorion was off missing the Oath swearing due to urgent business, our boy—the one with pollen allergies—was very present and zealous about his father's words.

He was the first to leap up to join in repeating after his father, and would've doomed himself to everlasting darkness in the process, if not for his ill-timed sneezing.

As it happened, the season Fëanor had chosen to rebel was a bit... not good for our allergic boy. Though, Fëanor would argue that it was Moringotto who had done the choosing when stealing his Silmarils, and murdering his father of course, may he RIP.

Whichever the reason, pollen season meant that when the words—"our word hear thou, Eru Allfather"—were uttered, a sneeze took over our miserable allergic Fëanorion and what he ended up saying was this:

"our word hear thou, E-achoo-father!"

Embarrassing as it was, in that moment of frenzy it mattered little; nobody seemed to have noticed amidst the clamour. So our allergic boy kept quiet and pretended nothing was amiss. For indeed, he felt nothing had gone wrong, how could he know?

It wasn't until they were on the ships and the allergic Fëanorion was in conference with two of his brothers that he realised everything was not going according to plan!

Oathful Fëanorion: the Oath™ has bound us for eternity.

Oathless Fëanorion, solemn: Oh yes, the oath. Terrible business that.

Oathful Fëanorion, morose: I can feel its shackles pulling me towards certain war with the enemy.

Allergic Fëanorion, confused but pretending not to be: Ahahaha yeah. The chains are surely sturdy and masterfully crafted. Almost like I can't feel them!

Oathful Fëanorion: ???

Allergic Fëanorion: It's because I'm one with the Oath you see.

He oh-so-smartly got out of that awkward conversation but now, he had to fix his mistake!

Our allergic boy's time comes when Fëanor was self-combusting (RIP dad but he needs to properly swear the Oath™ before his brothers find out!). So he's a little bit too enthusiastic when they start reciting the Oath™ once again, except this time, there's Fëanor's ashes swirling in the air....

And would you look at that? There goes our allergic Fëanorion again!

"Be he foe or achoo"

Oh.

"neither law—achhhooo—league"

Oh no.

"hideth or hoardeth, or—achoo—teth"

But he's determined dammnit!

"This swear we aaaall: death weeee will deal him eeeeerrrre Day's ending, woe unto world's end! Ouuuuur word hear thou—'don't sneeze, don't sneeze, don't you dare sneeze!!!'—E-achhhhhhhooooo-father!"

Allergic Fëanorion: 😶 😢

Oathless Fëanorion: 🤝

Oathful Fëanorion no. 1: ...

Oathful Fëanorion no. 2: ...

Oathful Fëanorion no. 3: Sigh. It's alright. You swore it before.

Allergic and Oathless Fëanorion: 💀

Who do you think is our poor little achhoo boy?

#shitposting by dummies #me thinks it's celegorm!#yeah i want it to be him for once lol #silmarillion #sons of feanor #maedhros #maglor #feanor #celegorm #caranthir #curufin #ambarussa #JustBizarre #oath of feanor

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jeremiah-33-3 · 21 days

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Ephesians 2:10 For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God hath before ordained that we should walk in them.

Isaiah 64:8 But now, O LORD, thou art our father; we are the clay, and thou our potter; and we all are the work of thy hand.

Psalm 119:73 Thy hands have made me and fashioned me: give me understanding, that I may learn thy commandments.

Isaiah 29:15 Woe unto them that seek deep to hide their counsel from the LORD, and their works are in the dark, and they say, Who seeth us? and who knoweth us?29:16 Surely your turning of things upside down shall be esteemed as the potter's clay: for shall the work say of him that made it, He made me not? or shall the thing framed say of him that framed it, He had no understanding?

Romans 9:19 Thou wilt say then unto me, Why doth he yet find fault? For who hath resisted his will?9:20 Nay but, O man, who art thou that repliest against God? Shall the thing formed say to him that formed it, Why hast thou made me thus?9:21 Hath not the potter power over the clay, of the same lump to make one vessel unto honour, and another unto dishonour?9:22 What if God, willing to shew his wrath, and to make his power known, endured with much longsuffering the vessels of wrath fitted to destruction:9:23 And that he might make known the riches of his glory on the vessels of mercy, which he had afore prepared unto glory,9:24 Even us, whom he hath called, not of the Jews only, but also of the Gentiles?9:25 As he saith also in Osee, I will call them my people, which were not my people; and her beloved, which was not beloved.9:26 And it shall come to pass, that in the place where it was said unto them, Ye are not my people; there shall they be called the children of the living God.

Deutoromy 32:5 They have corrupted themselves, their spot is not the spot of his children: they are a perverse and crooked generation.32:6 Do ye thus requite the LORD, O foolish people and unwise? is not he thy father that hath bought thee? hath he not made thee, and established thee?32:7 Remember the days of old, consider the years of many generations: ask thy father, and he will shew thee; thy elders, and they will tell thee.

Proverbs 3:6 In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.

Psalm 100:2 Serve the LORD with gladness: come before his presence with singing.100:3 Know ye that the LORD he is God: it is he that hath made us, and not we ourselves; we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture.

#holy bible #bible scripture #bible verse #jesus christ #faith in jesus #jesus #bible #sermon

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human-antithesis · 5 months

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Woe Unto Me - Along the Meandering Ordeals, Reshape the Pivot of Harmony (March 24th, 2023)

Lineup: Igor Kovalev - Clean Vocals, Keyboards Artem Serdyuk - Harsh Vocals, Guitars Dzmitry Shchyhlinski - Rhythm Guitar Ivan Skrundevskiy - Bass Pavel Shmyga - Drums Olga Apisheva - Keyboards

#Woe Unto Me #Funeral Doom Metal #Doom Metal #Igor Kovalev #Artyom Serdyuk #Dzmitry Shchyhlinski #Ivan Skrundevskiy #Pavel Shmyga #Olga Apisheva #Belarus #M-Theory Audio #United States #USA #US #Bandcamp

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yanban-san · 1 year

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Alright but they way that my tiny touch-starved being is, I can imagine how comfy hugs are from each set of twins-

Plain ol’ twins; just barely hiding in their coats as they hug you from the front-

Droids; might be a lil cold from the metal but I bet they got some heat core tomfoolery to warm the both of us up-

Eldritch; I’ve always wanted to know what hugs from shadows and feathers both feel like, just being lost in their innumerable wings, claws, scales and whatnot- every hug could be different depending on the day!

Driders; fluffy back and legs + the little clicks and buzzes they make when they’re happy, sign me up-

Hydreigons; wrapped up in their six wings to the point where you can’t tell human from hybrid-

I want ALL OF THEM to help my attention-starved existence. Thank you for listening to my Ted talk.

-lemon tea anon 🍋 🍵

Honest to god that's how I feel 🥲 Lemme just have hugs from my boys, pretty please-

I always thought the image of the twins having a small darling would be really cute- Like Emmet is hugging you and then he just wraps his long coat around you and you're squirming trying to escape while he's laughing- A Depot agent comes up to see what all the commotion is about and Emmet shushes them, telling them to be real quiet like- Before he asks the Depot Agent if they'd like... to purchase... a Darling- And swishing his coat open to reveal you glaring at him. Woe be unto the Depot Agent that actually tries to purchase you though. You're priceless to your sweethearts, after all. Ingo loves hugging you, or using you in the middle of the day as a pillow to squeeze while he rests his head. He'll wrap both of you in his coat- It makes a lovely impromptu blanket.

I decided to say the 'droids have quantum computers inside of them- But if you don't know, quantum computers... In their current states require temperatures as close to absolute zero as we can possibly get in order for them to work. So if they do have qubits running their brains, they are probably venting a lot of heat all the time- Especially because they have a generator inside of them as well. Hugging them is toasty, and during the Summer they are extra toasty. Of course they also run on pokemon-logic, so maybe they just have some NeverMeltIce jammed into those processors of theirs. I have also been playing around with some- Dare I say, body horror- that might get invoked with their physical interactions with their darling. But I digress; Their hugs are generally toasty, and they will grab you from afar to pull you in for one.

Eldritch boys just constantly hold you. The rare times you're alone, you can almost always feel their presence- Lurking in the shadows and out of sight- And sometimes you get pulled into darkness when you step into the shadows- Only to find yourself in Gear Station, being held by Ingo. "I missed you," He explains, tendrils and shadows coiling around you. His body dripping with the inky void that makes up his true form. Emmet grows jealous, and takes you away the moment he can. Whining as he holds you against him, a thousand voices wondering why you didn't ask him to come cuddle you too? He wants your affections- He's far softer than his brother, and prettier too! And then they spend your sleeping hours curled around you, a bed of fluffy feathers and scales and ink and light, cradling you in their claws and arms- Their precious soulmate. Their darling soulmate.

Driders have a difficult time with the hugging thing- Humans are much shorter than them, and though they have their four arms and their pedipalps, it's difficult for them to hug you- But you can hug them easily, especially if you're riding on their back. It's a place of honor, really- To be allowed on their fluffy back side, cuddling them while being carried everywhere. Their only complaint is that they cannot look at you. Though that is easily fixed. They can hug you easily by placing you in a hammock of webbing, or trapping you under them... They can also carry you- Supporting you in one set of arms and hugging you close with the other pair, kissing you with their spider mouths.

The hydreigon boys have an easy time hugging you- You just have to avoid being nommed on by them. Being bitten is their love language. Bite them back. They'll bite you in their sleep, they'll bite you while they're awake- They'll trap you in a cage of their wings, enjoying the fright on your face- That looks to them like adoration. Together, the six wings become twelve, and they lock you against them- Snapping at each other if they think the other is causing you discomfort. They kiss you, nursing on your skin, refusing to let up- Nesting with you in a lovely bed they've prepared of furs and moss and bones and flowers, while your feet are wrapped up in their tails.

#Ingo X Reader #Emmet X Reader #Emmet/Reader #Ingo/Reader #Eldritch AU #Hydreigon AU #Drider AU #Monster AU #Seth.asks #Seth.anon #Lemon Tea Anon #Hello Lemon Tea!#monster submas #Hugging

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prolifeproliberty · 1 month

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Maundy Thursday - Part 1

”Then came the day of unleavened bread, when the passover must be killed. And he sent Peter and John, saying, Go and prepare us the passover, that we may eat. And they said unto him, Where wilt thou that we prepare? And he said unto them, Behold, when ye are entered into the city, there shall a man meet you, bearing a pitcher of water; follow him into the house where he entereth in. And ye shall say unto the goodman of the house, The Master saith unto thee, Where is the guestchamber, where I shall eat the passover with my disciples? And he shall shew you a large upper room furnished: there make ready. And they went, and found as he had said unto them: and they made ready the passover.

And when the hour was come, he sat down, and the twelve apostles with him. And he said unto them, With desire I have desired to eat this passover with you before I suffer: for I say unto you, I will not any more eat thereof, until it be fulfilled in the kingdom of God. And he took the cup, and gave thanks, and said, Take this, and divide it among yourselves: for I say unto you, I will not drink of the fruit of the vine, until the kingdom of God shall come. And he took bread, and gave thanks, and brake it, and gave unto them, saying, This is my body which is given for you: this do in remembrance of me. Likewise also the cup after supper, saying, This cup is the new testament in my blood, which is shed for you.

But, behold, the hand of him that betrayeth me is with me on the table. And truly the Son of man goeth, as it was determined: but woe unto that man by whom he is betrayed! And they began to enquire among themselves, which of them it was that should do this thing.“

‭‭Luke‬ ‭22‬:‭7‬-‭23‬ ‭KJV‬‬

#Maundy Thursday #Scripture #Bible #Holy Week #Triduum

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swanmaids · 10 days

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fic writer questions - thanks for the tags, @grey-gazania @curufiin and @thelordofgifs! Sorry that it took so long.

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 51, though one is a compilation of unrelated short pieces.

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 89,680

3. What fandoms do you write for? At present just Silm and Lotr, but I'm hoping to participate in Yuletide this year and thinking about The Handmaiden, Hustlers, Swan Lake, and The Wolf Den as potential fandoms to offer

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

spirited away (outsider pov legolas/gimli)

post mortem (clinical/epistolary post-second kinslaying)

it takes a village (5+1 SoF and celebrimbor)

the straight road (epistolary legolas/gimli)

the stones wept (orpheus and eurydice au legolas/gimli)

It seems like my most popular pieces are L/G or sons of Feanor. And they ARE fun to write about, so I'm not complaining!

5. Do you respond to comments? Yes. But sometimes it takes an embarrasingly long time. Because I suck.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? haven (everyone dies) sister sister (everyone dies) if our deed faileth (everyone dies) woe unto worlds end (everyone dies)

Sensing a theme.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? coastin' (Elwing gets her pussy ate by her sexy husband and has an orgasm)

8. Do you get hate on fics? Lol I'm not relevant enough for that.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Yes lol. I'm not sure what's meant by "what kind", but I've done F/F, M/M, F/M, F/M/M, M/F/F/F/F and a fairly big variety of kinks so like... most kinds?

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? No, and I'm not a huge reader of them, although I long for a Silm/Succ crossover

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes! The lovely @camille-lachenille translated see it fall, child of war into French. You can read it here.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? No. I write very slowly and erratically, which I don't think would be fair to any potential cowriter.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? Legolas/Gimli is a long term otp and one couple where I really can't see either side with anyone else (if they want to invite Aragorn or Eomer to join for a night I'm not opposed). Elwing and Earendil is another couple that I feel the same about (and I'm also defensive of them as a couple and genuinely see them as an example of some of Tolkien's most romantic writing). I also really like Celegorm/Orome for being basically perfect for my id.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Eeeh. I'm really trying not to officially throw in the towel on any of my wips. It's just taking me a long time...

16. What are your writing strengths? Can I say smut? I think I'm quite good at setting, food, and clothing descriptions too.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Any plot that's more complicated than "emotion in space" or "dick in hole". Also actually DOING the writing.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I used to do it much more than I currently do. Now I feel like it breaks the flow of the story.

19. First fandom you wrote for? LOTR.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? I've said it before but I was really pleased with how one of your girls came out and have reread it a couple of times since publishing. Actually I think I got some writers block after publishing it because I feel like I can't surpass it lol.

This was fun to do! I'm very late to the party so I think most people have been tagged, but if anyone else wants to do it then please go ahead and say I tagged you.

#tag game

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antvnger · 3 months

Text

((You may! I will split these up into 4 separate posts that will post one a day to spread it out and give you something to look forward to lol))

ENTER BRUCE BANNER, WAKING UP.

ENTER SECURITY GUARD.

GUARD [to Banner:] You fell forth from the sky. Yeah, thus you did!

BANNER Did I hurt anyone by my great fall?

GUARD No one is near who may thereby be hurt. Some pigeons, though, would gladly speak with you and share the anger of their featherbrains.

BANNER ‘Twas vastly fortunate.

GUARD — Mayhap good aim! You were awake when first you fell to earth.

BANNER Thou didst bear witness to the mighty fall?

GUARD Each moment, yea, as you came through the ceiling – so big and green and buck-arse naked too - and landed thereon, where you still recline, upon the rubble - not a gentle touchdown. Take these few clothes, my friend, for you’ll need them. Methought they would not fit until you shrunk unto a fellow of more reg’lar size– A lucky fall for such an alien.

BANNER Enormous thanks.

GUARD —Are you an alien, come from another planet unbeknownst?

BANNER Large issues are at play, yet nay–not that.

GUARD Then, son, I’ll wager you have some condition.

[Exit security guard.

BANNER O, woe is me, who makes such hefty missteps. My life is curs’d, and wreck’d beyond repair – I cannot make mine own end, force myself to sleep - and by a sleep to say we end the heartache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to. Nay, that road is clos’d, for when I tried the other rescued me, though naught of rescue did my soul desire. Instead, I walk the earth like one with plague, the man who doth become the gruesome beast, unfit for regular society, constituent of no community. I am alone, and walk the earth like Cain, the blighted Banner, bann’d from human life, deserving exile, death, or something worse. Unlike Odysseus, I have no home– Instead, I am the cyclops whom he trick’d, or Scylla, who appear’d with dreadful heads– Charybdis too, who’d gladly pull him down. I am the dragon that St. George o’ercame, the kraken buried deep beneath the sea. The minotaur with appetite for blood, I am a gremlin, banshee, spirit, demon, yea, ev’rything that e’er made children cry. Unsuitable for human interaction, a fiend, a brute, a giant, and a freak. Yet if I could control the monstrous man, put him to work for noble purposes and harness his great strength to fight against evil, then e’en the Hulk may have a shred of hope. Bruce Banner and the Hulk: we share a mission; together let us work, with fix’d ambition.

The Bard's Avengers

#for the ant mun #ant mun #anon asks #the bard's avengers #avengers #assemble ye avengers #bruce banner #the hulk #the incredible hulk

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