will y'all stop fucking calling snowgrave a genocide route. even putting aside the understandable discomfort a lot of people have with referring to undertale's kill everyone run as that [which is an entire post on its own] that's literally not what you're doing. you aren't hunting down and murdering every single darkener until there are no more left in any given area, you're emotionally manipulating noelle into defeating them all in battle and also [possibly] killing berdly, who is one guy. there's a difference. if you're gonna use that term for the most murdery endings at least fucking use it correctly
Clark likes to think of himself as a polite fellow, so when a person entirely covered in bandages walks into the convenience store he gives them a little nod, says “Morning,” and returns to waiting for the befreckled kid behind the counter to finish ringing him up for the little sewing kit he needs to repair his jacket seam. After all, it’s not polite to stare.
What is also not polite is the man in the ski mask that pushes the door open a minute later and levels a gun at the cashier. Just my luck. Clark straightens up, stepping between the intruder and the cashier, scanning him over. No tremble in his hands, a even heartbeat, cold focused eyes - this is an experienced robber.
“You don’t want to do that, sir,” he says, hoping that the two others in the store clear out.
(( @softsliders19 ! ))
I was not myself, myself. The celery feathers, the bacon flitch, the cups deep on the shelf and my cheek coppered and shone in the kettle's paunch, my mouth blubbed in the tin of the pan they were all I had to go on.
How could I go on With such meager proofs of myself? I woke day after day. Day after day I was gone. From the self I was last night.
And then he came home tight.
Such a simple definition! How did I miss it? Now I see that all I needed was a hand to mold my mouth to scald my cheek, was this concussion by whose lights I find my self-possession, where I grow complete.
He splits my lip with his fist, shadows my eye with a blow, knuckles my neck to its proper angle. What a perfectionist!
His are a sculptor's hands: they summon form from the void, they bring me to myself again. I am a new woman.
Eavan Boland, "In His Own Image"
It is her eyes: the irises are gold and round 'they go like the ring on my wedding finger, round and round
and I can't touch their histories or tears. To think they were once my satellites! They shut me out now. Such light-years!
She is not myself anymore she is not even in my sky anymore and I am not myself.
I will not disfigure her pretty face. Let her wear amethyst thumbprints, a family heirloom, a sort of burial necklace
and I know just the place: Where the wall glooms, where the lettuce seeds, where the jasmine springs no surprises
I will bed her. She will bloom there, second nature to me, the one perfection among compromises.
Eavan Boland, “In Her Own Image”
i just think she’s neat,,,sam my beloved <3
Chapter 15: Lothlorien
Summary: After her fight with Thranduil, Phoenix hopes for a moment of respite. Unfortunately, the Mirror wishes to show her a few things.
Notes: Contains sentence prompts from @themerriweathermage (thought I had to tweak it a bit as Phoenix doesn’t have high heels).
This is gonna be looooooooong.
ALSO, I will have phrases in Quenya in this chapter. I WILL NOT TRANSLATE. This story is from Phoenix's point of view and she is not supposed to know what is being said to her until later. It's part of a twist I am creating. Thanks for understanding! (Clearly I cannot stop you if you wish to translate it, just don’t spoil it in the comments, lol!)
I awoke with a start and this time it took me even longer than normal to ground myself. It didn’t dawn on me until I got up from my bed and flung the windows open. Instead of the Rivendell gardens greeting me, it was the Mirkwood forest. Oh, right. This was my last night in Eryn Galen before heading to Lothlorien. No wonder nothing felt familiar.
And the fact that Rivendell was beginning to feel like home scared me all over again.
Knowing sleep was now impossible, I got dressed in most of my flight gear. I packed my bag and left it by the door along with my vest, leaving my jacket open as I departed my room. Where I was heading to, I was unsure. I just couldn’t stay in my room.
The guards nodded politely to me and one even gently suggested a path for me to take, no doubt seeing the pain in my eyes. The path led me to Mirkwood’s gardens and they were beautifully lit by lanterns and fireflies darting across the sky. It amazed me that such beautiful flowers could grow without direct sunlight. I wondered if Thranduil had some sort of magic that kept them alive.
Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.
I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed, “Lord, end my suffering.” Then I raised my voice to the approaching Elf, “what can I help you with, Aran Thranduil?”
He took one look at my face and softened his tone. “I was informed that you were up very early this morning and I was concerned. Are you well? Should I send for a healer? Perhaps you would like some tea or wine? I could get min-”
"I swear to god, I’ll beat you to death with my boots if you don’t shut the fuck up," I rolled my eyes. “It was just a nightmare. Nothing more. It tends to happen when you have a lot of pent-up trauma inside.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “There is no need to be hostile.”
“Lick my boot. Preferably just after I’ve removed it from your ass!” I then sighed at the shocked look on his face. “Sorry, sorry. I’m- I’m very stressed right now and I haven’t been sleeping much. I am sorry.”
“What is bothering you, Khaleesi?”
“Do we have time for that list?” I moved away from the Elvenking. “I don’t know what to say. Normally my dreams revolve around my trauma. But last night….”
“I dreamed about being consumed by flames. And not like before. I was trying to escape from someone.”
I shook my head, “I don’t know. It was someone I didn’t recognize. But I felt great dread radiating from his form.”
Thranduil was quiet for a moment as I continued to walk the garden path. He was a silent shadow as I hummed to myself as I walked. Finally, he spoke softly behind me. “Have they told you the story of Arien and Melkor?”
“Beyond him trying to take her against her will? No. I didn’t think it was relevant to know the story after it was determined Rosa wasn’t her reincarnated.”
“I wish to tell you because it may explain your dreams. I don’t believe it was you that was burning. I believe you saw Arien.”
His words caused me to stop mid-step. “You’re saying I’m having visions of your world?”
“It is possible. This world is full of magic. The changes you may be experiencing could be your body adapting to the magic.”
I blinked at him. “Except I’m human. Humans here aren’t magical. Closest there is are the descendants of the Numenor.”
“But you are not of this world.”
I sighed. “Ok, humor me. Tell me about Arien’s story.”
Thranduil lead me over to a bench amongst the flowers. “When Eru first created Arda, fifteen of the Valar crossed with him to help in the creation. Melkor was the strongest of the Valar.”
His deep voice wove the story of Arda’s creation, the creation of Valinor, the Two Lamps, then the Two Trees, and finally, Arien’s fate after the Trees were destroyed. The whole time, a question kept nagging at me and finally, I had to get an answer.
“Wait, you’re saying that Melkor wanted Arien for a wife. Were the other Valar married?”
“Yes. The remaining fourteen were paired off with each other.”
“Melkor crossed over without a wife? And wanted one of the Maiar instead of going back for another Valar?”
“Arien was the most powerful of the Maiar. Only she could hold the piece of the Tree that would become our sun.”
“Still, something....doesn’t seem right. Someone as powerful as Melkor wouldn’t leave it up to chance that there would be a Maia powerful enough to be his wife.”
Thranduil raised an eyebrow. “What are you suggesting?”
“What if he was married before he crossed over? What if your world doesn’t have the full story? I mean, come on. Fifteen Valar?”
“You think that’s why Arien turned him down?”
The answer felt as if it was at the tip of my tongue, but I just couldn’t see it. “I don’t know. But I do know a story told this many times over thousands of years is bound to get distorted. Albeit accidentally.”
Thranduil was about to comment when Feren came across us. “Forgive me for interrupting. Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn are ready to depart after breakfast.”
I looked around and that’s when I noticed how much brighter it was in the woods. “Wow, guess we lost track of time. Thank you, Feren.”
“Khaleesi,” I stopped at Thranduil’s call. “I know we have had our....moments. But my offer is always out there.”
I gave a small nod of my head. “Thank you, Aran Thranduil.”
Two days later, I was standing in front of another forest, this one shaped to clearly house the city of Lothlorien. And once again, I had to leave Meraxes at the borders. But the forest wasn’t as foreboding as Mirkwood had been. It was an easy walk and soon I was in the home of Lady Galadriel.
Haldir excused himself to check in with his guards and see what his rotation would be. He bowed politely to me and to his Lord and Lady before departing. Now it was awkward. Galadriel and I haven’t spoken much and I knew what Celeborn thought of me.
But Galadriel smiled down at me. “Khaleesi, if you are not too tired from our travels, I would be honored to show you our home.”
“Oh! Yes, please. The honor would be all mine.”
She reached over and touched Celeborn’s cheek. “We will see you at dinner, my love.”
He kissed her hand before departing, never sparing me a glance. I would have been offended if I hadn’t expected it. Galadriel then began to lead me around Lothlorien, explaining in her musical voice how the city came to be and where she and Celeborn originally came from.
We entered the library and it was vastly different from the one in Rivendell. A beautiful glow began to emit from the trees and that was the only indication I had on time passing. As I looked at the bindings of the books that lined the shelves, I came across a large portrait of a very beautiful elleth with silver hair. I had this odd sense of deja vu as if I had seen her before. Then her eyes clued me in. They were the same as Galadriel’s.
“That is my daughter, Celebrian. Lord Elrond’s wife many years ago.”
I felt a pit in my stomach. Holy hell, she’s gorgeous. “She’s very beautiful. I’m very sorry that you were separated from her.”
Galadriel moved to stand next to me, “yes, that was a very tragic day. Celeborn and I raced from Lothlorien the moment I received the mental message from Elrond. We raced so hard, our poor horses almost died. But we were desperate to see her.”
I could feel the tears form in my eyes, knowing exactly how they had felt that day.
“We made it in time to speak with her once more. To hold her hand once more. To kiss her forehead once more.”
I tried to discreetly wipe a tear away. “The pain of such a loss is immeasurable. Though, I do envy Elves. You will see her again once you sail for Valinor.”
“No, we will not.” I did a double-take at her words. “Though Elladan and Elrohir were fast enough to get to their mother, they did not arrive in Rivendell in time. Her wounds were too great for even Elrond to heal. She passed away mere hours after her father and I arrived. And from what the Valar have informed Círdan when we implored her fate, she did not pass through the Halls of Mandos. Her mental wounds were too great to want a physical form.”
“Oh my god, I am so sorry Lady Galadriel.”
She reached over and wiped my tears away. “Do not fret, my child. She is no longer in pain and she parted over five hundred years ago. And Celeborn and I still have our grandchildren to dote over.”
“Still, to lose anyone is hard. To lose a child...I could not imagine that pain.”
“As I could not imagine losing a spouse as you and Elrond have. To not fade away with the pain. To not give in to grief. You both are stronger in different ways than Celeborn and I.” She wiped away one last tear. “Come, I believe dinner will be ready.”
While Celeborn did not stay in my presence often, Lothlorien was not as awkward as Mirkwood. And each time Celeborn left the room, Galadriel smiled.
“Do not mind him, Phoenix. Your spirit reminds him of Celebrian, though he will never admit it.”
Now there’s a comparison I never earned. From what I knew, I was not as good of a person as she had been.
“It is not always about good or bad when it comes to comparing personalities.”
Right, Galadriel can read my mind.
It was my last day in Lothlorien and Galadriel was once again leading me around her city. She didn’t seem to mind, as if she needed this as much as I did. But this last day I didn’t notice where she was leading me until it was too late.
Down the dirt path, we traveled until I saw the tree stump holding a silver, shallow bowl. And behind that, on a shelf, was a silver pitcher of water.
This was Galadriel’s Mirror. Fuck.
Galadriel picked up the pitcher and stood next to the tree stump. “The Mirror shows many things. Things that were, things that are, and some things that have yet to come. I know you have had many questions since arriving in Middle Earth, Khaleesi. If you wish to know the truth, you will need to face your fears.”
Well, that’s not even remotely ominous or frightening. Great.
Taking a deep breath, I moved to the other side of the Mirror. Galadriel began to pour the water into the Mirror and I leaned over to see what it wanted to show me.
I should have stayed in bed.
First, I was given flashes of the past. Fighting with my mother. Struggling with my identity both in sexuality and race as a biracial woman. There were moments of Rosa and I meeting by chance before we started our friendship and I felt my heart rip a little.
Then there was more. The first attack on our government that put the country on a powder keg. Rosa and I hiding in a rundown store with other survivors in the area. The doctor working to remove my damaged kidney.
I could feel myself grip the sides of the bowl as I watched the past unfold.
The first use of Meraxes. My mother and I fighting over whether or not family should be held to the same standards as others attacking us. Rosa dying. Me snapping and using Meraxes on the group that attacked us.
My Khalasar riding towards the capital to take it back as I flew above with Meraxes. The dog fights above the capitol building as fires raged below. Meraxes on the roof of the building, her roar ringing out when our victor was ensured.
But then it morphed into my second-in-command Rick and my Khalasar before the UN, arguing why we had done what was necessary during the war. And I was never there. This was happening while I was in Middle Earth. The voices became distorted as the scene changed again, but I heard enough. I knew what was awaiting me.
The voice hissed from the Mirror and seemed to penetrate my brain. I was filled with the same dread as before.
I couldn’t understand a word being said to me, but still, I knew a threat when one was being issued. My grip tightened on the bowl.
A tule asenye.
The dark voice was putting me on edge.
"Ván!” I shouted as I stumbled backward away from the Mirror.
Tenn' enta lúme.
The last words hissed all around, chilling me to the bone. I looked up at Galadriel and I had never seen such fear before.
“What happened? What was that?!”
She took a shaky breath but wouldn’t answer.
“WHO WAS THAT?! What did he say to me?!”
“You did not understand him?”
“Of course not! I barely speak Sindarin and that didn’t sound like anything I had heard before.”
“But you answered. You told him ‘I won’t do it’ in perfect Quenya.”
“Wait, what? I did that?!” How was that possible?
But instead of answering, Galadriel’s face turned solemn. “There is a dark force trying to fight its way back to Middle Earth. You are no longer safe here. You must leave when the portal appears.”
I sat against Meraxes, miles from Rivendell. No doubt the patrol spotted me as I returned to the valley, but I didn’t want to officially make my presence known. The more time I spent away from Galadriel and her magic mirror, the more the reality I would soon face paralyzed me. And angered me. The threatening voice was beginning to fade like a dream, but what awaited me in my world stood front and center. Demanding my attention.
Everything I sacrificed...down the fucking drain. And apparently, I wasn't safe whether I stayed in Middle Earth or left. Fucking hell.
The sound of the distant hoofbeats caught my attention. I almost thought it was the patrol, but it was soon obvious to be only one horse. And it was a pretty good guess as to whom it could be.
Like a moth to a flame.
I didn’t bother to look up at the rider as they approached. Honestly, I hoped they wouldn’t see me, though I knew that would be impossible given Meraxes’ size. So while I was disappointed to hear the horse stop, I wasn’t surprised.
“You’re a far way from Imladris, Phoenix.” I heard the metal of his armor as he dismounted his horse.
“That’s the point, Lord Elrond. Easier to debate why the universe decided to kick me in the crotch without also having to look at a fantasy world.”
I didn’t even have to look at him to know what look was on his face. Shock and confusion, maybe even hurt. But what happened next, I never could have predicted. He stopped in front of me and his boots came into my line of sight. They were covered in his dark copper armor, looking almost red in the sunlight. Elrond crouched and his face came into view.
He was concerned.
“Lady Galadriel told me you were troubled by the mirror.”
“That is an understatement to end all understatements. I just found out that there is a mob awaiting me back in my world. And the reasons are all bullshit because it boils down to one thing: power.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
I let out a sarcastic laugh, everything I had gone through suddenly breaking the surface. “No. Of course, you don’t. Why would you? Why would anyone in this God-forsaken place understand how royally fucked I am?!”
Anger filled me and I jumped to my feet.
“How could anyone in this world even begin to understand me?! Has anyone once asked how I was? How I truly was? A few months ago I was tossed into a world that I thought was pure fantasy. And instead of being given time to come to grips that it’s real, that you’re real, Gandalf’s real, THIS WHOLE FUCKING WORLD IS REAL. I have been thrown into a queen role I never fucking wanted and told that to get home I have to face a dragon that’s twice the size of Meraxes! And if by some miracle I don’t die, I have a firing squad awaiting me on the other side of the portal.”
I began to pace, hands gesturing wildly as three months unleashed all at once. Elrond was on his feet at my frantic movements. He tried to stop my pacing at one point and I violently pushed him away.
“Don’t!” I growled.
A primal cry rang out of my throat as I punched a metal wing. Then I dropped to my knees, all of my emotions raging to the surface after years of suppressing them. When was the last time I had cried? Probably two years ago, when I had Rosa’s body in my arms.
“It’s never enough. I’ve lost friends, family, my wife, my sanity. I have dreams that will haunt me to the end of my days because I had to kill to survive a war.” Through my blurry vision, I could see Elrond crouch in front of me again. “I gave everything I had. Every fiber of who-”
I closed my eyes and tried to focus my breathing. There was a gentle touch on my shoulder and I collapsed forward. Strong arms wrapped around me and my forehead touched the cold metal of Elrond’s armor. My fingers clung to him, holding him to keep from drowning.
“I sacrificed everything and it wasn’t enough. They want more. They want to drag me in front of the Geneva Convention and try me for war crimes. And they’ll succeed because they want Meraxes. It won’t matter if I’m innocent; once I get home I’ll never be free again.”
So c!Wilbur never takes off his shirt. He hates anyone seeing his back. Not even Sally has seen his back.
Everyone respects this through once the war happened, it became a bit of a problem. Since Wilbur would want to take care of call back wounds himself. Everyone was hoping that Wilbur would never get a bad back injury. Luckily the war passed and Wilbur did not get any bad back injuries.
Once in Pogtopia and Techno was there, things were a bit easier since Wilbur would allow Techno to see his back (granted it was in a room with just them in it but it is much better then before). Techno seems to know why Wilbur does not like people seeing his back.
Cut to Wilbur being back from limbo.
Quackity and Wilbur are having another argument with Tubbo and Ranboo trying to tune them out but failing.
Quackity ends up calling Wilbur a human.
Ranboo is like "Wait what? Wilbur is not human"
Tubbo is like "He has never said he was a hybrid. And he does not look like a hybrid"
Wilbur goes over to Ranboo and is like "Ranboo we need to have a talk" and leads him away from Tubbo and Quackity
Tubbo and Quackity looked confused. They wondered why Ranboo would think Wilbur was a hybrid and why Wilbur acted like that.
Wilbur has no hybrid features nor has said that he is a hybrid.
Foolish comes around and asks why the two look confused and they explain what happened.
Foolish is like "Isn't his father an avian hybrid. Phil. That guy with big black wings"
Tubbo and Quackity smack themselves in the head. Through to be fair, they went so long thinking he was human and when they finally saw his father is was a very chaotic day and people really weren't thinking about what species Wilbur was.
Tubbo: That would explain a lot. He can make good bird noises, likes shiny stuff, and why he hates armor. Hollow bones. I remember Techno saying that Wilbur's armor had to be made differently.
Quackity: Where are his wings? Avian hybrids always have wings. Not all are fully developed but they have wings.
Tubbo's eyes goes wide: Big Q. Wilbur hates anyone seeing his back.
That is when the pieces fall into place. Wilbur hates anyone seeing his back since he does not want anyone to see his wings. Or I should say what is left on them. Since something must have happened to them since even small wings would be have been seen.
Wilbur and Ranboo come back and no one really says anything.
Wilbur sighs and is like "You guys figured it out didn't you. I am not blind to those looks in your eyes"
Tubbo and Quackity nod.
Wilbur is like "I do not want to talk about it but yes. I am an avian hybrid. Ranboo don't blame yourself. You did not know that I did not want others to know"
Tubbo: So you just lie about being human
Wilbur is like "I never confirm nor deny being human. I am silent.
Don't know how but some time later, Wilbur opens up about what happened to his wings.
Just after he got his flight feathers and was learning how to fly, he and some other hybrid kids were taken by hybrid hunters. They wanted his wings. He was able to escape with the other kids but his wings were gone.
Wilbur hates looking at what is left. So he always wears a shirt and just says he is human. People don't ask questions. He tries to hide his avian instincts but they do come out from time to time. Luckily he can past them off as habits he has.
whoever works at medibang and decided to start putting an ad bar on the canvas screen deserves to be beat up
Just heard gunshots right outside my house, and my head hurts. How are you guys doing this fine evening?
He wasn’t going to let them hurt his younglings. Someone, somehow, got wind of Frost’s connection with a certain pair of orphans. It had to have been someone who knew him, someone with a grudge. It didn’t matter. The person responsible for giving the order, and everyone in between them and himself, would meet a gruesome end. He received the threat, and the fools left a scent trail. If they knew him well, they should have known that much of his skill as a hunter and a Survivalist relied on his ability to track by scent. He found them en route to their targets, but they never saw or heard him coming.
Cross one off of his recent list of accomplishments. His murder-fasting had come to an abrupt end with a moveable feast - four men on foot, traveling by night. They meant to invade the estate in Kugane while everyone inside slept, but they became lost in a dense icy fog which was out of place for Hingashi’s still summer-kissed hills. That was when they saw a trio of glowing red eyes trailing toward them, and the oddly tall silhouette they belonged to. The hills were no strangers to all manner of beast, and some have said there were shikigami and even oni residing in the dark places. Whatever had found them, the creature’s scream was unnaturally bone-chilling, and one by one, the men disappeared into the fog, kicking and clawing at the ground to try and save themselves. One by one, they struggled, screamed, gurgled and fell silent as the life was torn from them. Three were gone, and the last was allowed to linger and listen to the sound of bones snapping and flesh being torn asunder. But the beast wasn’t finished yet. The last man flailed at the fog with his katana, hoping to find purchase in the hide of whatever insidious monster lay in waiting, but he met only air. His breath was abruptly cut off by a frigid hand clamping down on his throat from behind, already soaked with the blood of his comrades. “I will know who sent you,” Frost hissed in the man’s ear. Rather than give his prey a chance to speak, he tightened his grip. The man clawed helplessly against the Survivalist’s grasp. “Shh... you needn’t say anything,” he whispered. “I want to see what you’ve seen... the face of your benefactor.” With his other hand, Frost sliced across the man’s jugular vein and clamped his mouth down on the fresh flow of blood. This way, the impulses of the mind carried their message with greater clarity as the blood returned from the brain to the heart. Too, he didn’t want this one to die too quickly. Not yet. He felt the racing mind of his prey, all the fear, regret, the terror of knowing that might have been his last night alive. He felt the internalized scream and plea for air, the hastened prayer to the gods that all men make when faced with mortality. He saw the face of his enemy flicker across his mind and drew back with a grin, and the satisfied exhale of a man dying of thirst finally drinking from an oasis. “Him... ah yes, I should have known,” he sighed. “Thank you for the information.” With a final tightening of his hand, the man’s throat was crushed and released to fall to the ground in a heap. Frost stood there and lolled his head back to drink in the night air as the ice fog dissipated, and to savor the euphoria of a long denied feed.
im on my peaceful arc, im on my peaceful arc, im on my peaceful arc, im on my peaceful arc, im on my-
@xavecamour || antonin
❝ I said distract them, not scar them for life. ❞
“ugh.” sera groaned and lashed her fist sharply across the temple on the skull of the guard blocking their path to the roof of the building as her face shifted back to less monstrous features. “well, that’s boring, dollface. besides, he was already staring at me.” she caught he body as it began to collapse unconscious to the ground. “oof.” with a little effort, she dropped the ragdoll in the corner. “what?”
“We’re going against the largest gun lobby. We could very well die trying to do this. But we could very well die not trying to do this, too. So why not die for something rather than nothing?”
- X González
God, I fucking hate people so fucking much, words can not express how much I just wanna rip someone's throat out with my teeth