crystal-dagger

More of the Mononoke!AU Klance lovin’. I forgot this scene where San angrily smashed the crystal dagger into Ashitaka’s chest, but then she noticed that the curse has completely spread across his torso. Ashitaka has such a resolute expression on when he gathered San into his arms and apologized for not being able to save the forest. What a beautiful scene ;_;
by the way, the V on Lance’s shoulder glows blue when he feels an intense emotion. It’s a v.cool idea by my buddy @nut-tastic <3 tq mah bro

The last tododeku week fill! This is a generic desk job au when they’re adults but of course they don’t relax.  

“I don’t use my fire side,” Todoroki commented, and Midoriya breathed through his mouth, walked over, and punched him in the face.


His boss forced him to buy flowers as an apology gift, which were nice, but Midoriya was still reeling from the animosity he felt so he tore all of them off except one. It was one of those fancy flowers that were grown with dye so they blossomed with two colors.

The flower was a rose, and half of it was the normal dark red that was so romanticized, but the other was a pure white that resembled snow. It wasn’t perfect—there was a single red petal on the white side—but the resemblance was uncanny and the meaning behind it impossible to ignore.

Midoriya had planted it himself, though he hadn’t expected to use it for such a reason. Todoroki took one look at it and covered it entirely in ice.


The next day Midoriya brought in another rose, and placed it on Todoroki’s desk without a word.

At the end of the day it’s covered in ice, put in a pretty glass vase, and placed next to Midoriya’s laptop.


He brought in another rose. It was returned with frost.


The next rose got more creative—Midoriya painted the pot half red and white, used red multch on one side and covered the other side in sand.

In turn, it was replaced as an ice sculpture, the words “fuck off” shaved into the side of it like it was some beautiful design.


Midoriya does not fuck off. The next day he brings three roses.


He runs out of roses then, at least home grown ones, and resorts to using red roses and white roses.

“Aren’t red roses supposed to be romantic?” Uraraka mentions. Midoriya is too worried about making the colored roses stay on their specified side to hear.


“What do I have to do to make you stop?” Todoroki asks, face blank but the air turned chilly when he walked in the room. His eyes look furious.

Oh, thank god, Midoriya thinks. He had been losing a lot of money on the roses.

“Use you fire,” Midoriya says relentlessly. For all the anger in Todoroki, Midoriya tops it all with his determination and pure spite.

“No,” Todoroki responds. Midoriya narrows his eyes slightly.

“Then I won’t stop.”

Todoroki stomps away.


Another week passes and Midoriya buys a coolor to melt the ice in. Todoroki’s taken to carving creative insults in the ice he returns, so Midoriya buys cards (red on the outside but white inside) to reply.

One day the sculpture asks to meet him outside. Midoriya responds with a generic ok and also a picture of a fire.

“Will you use your fire?” Midoriya asks as a greeting.

“No,” Todoroki answers, “I will not use my father’s fire.”

The story comes out then—about how his father and mother married because of quirks, how his father trained him like a mule and his mother tried to alleviate the pressure, tried to take the pressure away, only to crack under it herself. Todoroki’s scar is a testament of how terrible it was.

“I don’t like talking about this,” Todoroki admits, “but I am. So will you stop your stupid mission now?”

Midoriya hesitates—his heart is breaking in his chest from the other’s story but the tears are gathering in the corner of his eyes because of how nonchalant Todoroki is as he tells it, how emotionless he tries to seem towards to whole thing—but he steels himself. He breathes.

“No,” he says. This time Todoroki is the one to punch him in the face.


Somewhere between the adrenaline and sweat and punches and kicks, Midoriya thinks it probably wasn’t the best idea to piss someone off with such a strong quirk when he himself was quirkless.

He hurts himself more than Todoroki when he kicks at the other’s ice, twirling and jumping to escape the other’s crystalized dagger, but he grabs the pepper spray he’s allowed to have as a quirkless and sprays the other so the liquid condenses on his freezing skin.

“It’s your power!” Midoriya screams, thoughtless in his anger because—

Because Midorya would do anything for a quirk. He had always wanted to be a hero, eyes bright with hope; to fit in with Kacchan with his flashy explosions and devil-may-care attitude; for all the relentless bullying and mockery to stop following him for just one second. He wanted to stop having to say he ‘fell’ and for his mother not to have to grow increasingly worried and uncomfortable as her son came home with bigger and bigger bruises.

But here was Todoroki, blessed with a quirk that he refused to see as his own, didn’t want to see it as anything more than an extension of his parents. Everyone always put in their best and pushed themselves harder than yesterday and went further to catch onto their dreams. Uraraka, Iida, even (especially) Bakugou—they all demanded more of themselves than possible and refused to be stopped.

But here was Todoroki, haunted by his past or maybe haunting his past himself, like a spirit who couldn’t move on, who not only didn’t try his hardest but refused to.

Something gets through, something in Todoroki’s eyes spark to life, but Midoriya doesn’t have time to take advantage of the distraction before the alley is covered in a loud burst of fire.

It crackles and burn and towers, larger than life and certainly larger than the building next to them, and even the knowledge that he probably just provoked someone into murdering him can’t stop the large grin from spreading across Izuku’s lips.

“What are you smiling for?” Todoroki screams, because he has to be in order to be heard over the loud cracking and sizzling the flames are causing. His words aren’t angry—there’s something pulling at his mouth that makes Midoriya want to call him a hypocrite—but then Todoroki pulls back his arms, winding up, and Midoriya lift his pepper spray—

(the chemicals will react and cause more fire if I can control it then i)

All Might steps deftly between them but a loud crack is the last thing he hears before Midoriya is a goner.

(Ah right—when cold air heats up really quickly–)

Boom.


The next week Midoriya is back behind his desks, meekly rubbing the back of his neck as Iida chastises him, when he notices the rose. It’s pure red, but the card attached is white. As soon as Iida leaves, Midoriya tries to convince himself he isn’t ripping it open.

sorry about losing control but also thank you

do you want to meet this friday for dinner?

And then on the back:

the florist said they were out of white roses. i wonder why?


Todoroki opens the red and white card in amusement, different from the flames of anger the fancy lettering would have caused just last week.

Sure! :) Don’t be sorry about the flames—I hurt myself more than anything else! Are you okay? I heard you had to get checked out for frostbite!?

p.s. no clue about the white roses :P

He chuckles light to himself.

Friday can’t come quick enough. 

King Tut's Blade Made of Meteorite

King Tut was buried with a dagger made of an iron that literally came from space, says a new study into the composition of the iron blade from the sarcophagus of the boy king.

Using non-invasive, portable X-ray fluorescence spectrometry, a team of Italian and Egyptian researchers confirmed that the iron of the dagger placed on the right thigh of King Tut’s mummified body a has meteoric origin.

The team, which include researchers from Milan Polytechnic, Pisa University and the Egyptian Museum in Cairo, detailed their results in the journal Meteoritics and Planetary Science.

Keep reading

Bio: Mari is a Hatter, the last of her bloodline. She has three intentions:
1. Have a tea party
2. Eliminate anything or anyone who dares destroy the multiverses 3. Serve the WQ and Crafty Bendy

Gender: F

Sexuality:????

Age:????

Parents: Alice and the Mad Hatter

Eye colors: Pink and Yellow


Markings: shoulders, legs, chest, cheek, top right forehead

Weapons: card spear, rose sword, dagger, magical crystal cards, magic, illusions, monstrous hat, umbrella

Transportation: mirror/door/window portals, umbrella, wings, legs.

Romantic interest: will not reveal

Personality: optimistic, intelligent, organized, kind, caring, loyal, sometimes self-absorbed/ dark, twisted, sadistic, malevolent, malicious

Occupation: multiverse guardian, servant, royal knight.

Superiors: The White Queen, Crafty Bendy

Friends: Bill!Sans, Bill the lizard, Cheshire cat, White Rabbit, March Hare, Mock Turtle, Dodo, Pat, and Duck.

@billsans45 @ask-the-crafty-demon-bleh

The Signs As Star's Spells/Attacks

Aries-  Rainbow Fist Punch

Taurus-  Mega Narwhal Blast

Gemini-  Dagger Crystal Heart Attack

Cancer- Glowworm Blast

Leo- Super Rainbow Dolphin Slam

Virgo- Syrup Tsunami Shockwave

Libra- Honeybee Tornado Swarm

Scorpio-  Rainbow Flytrap

Sagittarius- Jellybean Hallucination Mist

Capricorn- Mending Heart Hurricane

Aquarius- Winter Storm Hyper Blow

Pisces- Glitter Dragon Escalation

Sorcery works at creating around itself a psychic/physical space or openings into a space of untrammeled expression — the metamorphosis of quotidian place into angelic sphere. This involves the manipulation of symbols (which are also things) & of people (who are also symbolic) — the archetypes supply a vocabulary for this process & therefore are treated as if they were both real & unreal, like words. Imaginal Yoga.

The sorcerer is a Simple Realist: the world is real — but then so must consciousness be real since its effects are so tangible. The dullard finds even wine tasteless but the sorcerer can be intoxicated by the mere sight of water. Quality of perception defines the world of intoxication — but to sustain it & expand it to include others demands activity of a certain kind — sorcery. Sorcery breaks no law of nature because there is no Natural Law, only the spontaneity of natura naturans, the tao. Sorcery violates laws which seek to chain this flow — priests, kings, hierophants, mystics, scientists & shopkeepers all brand the sorcerer enemy for threatening the power of their charade, the tensile strength of their illusory web.

A poem can act as a spell & vice versa — but sorcery refuses to be a metaphor for mere literature — it insists that symbols must cause events as well as private epiphanies. It is not a critique but a re-making. It rejects all eschatology & metaphysics of removal, all bleary nostalgia & strident futurismo, in favor of a paroxysm or seizure of presence.

Incense & crystal, dagger & sword, wand, robes, rum, cigars, candles, herbs like dried dreams — the virgin boy staring into a bowl of ink — wine & ganja, meat, yantras & gestures — rituals of pleasure, the garden of houris & sakis — the sorcerer climbs these snakes & ladders to a moment which is fully saturated with its own color, where mountains are mountains & trees are trees, where the body becomes all time, the beloved all space.

The tactics of ontological anarchism are rooted in this secret Art — the goals of ontological anarchism appear in its flowering. Chaos hexes its enemies & rewards its devotees…this strange yellowing pamphlet, pseudonymous & dust-stained, reveals all…send away for one split second of eternity.

—  Hakim Bey - T.A.Z.

After a Night Elf hunter, i suggest a Moon Priestess mog :D . You can see many variations of it in the picture. I am aware the Mooncloth Robe can be complimented both with blue and golden gear, but i felt the icy blue works better. You can check many options and combine them from my suggestions down below:

Head: Titan-Forged Hood of Salvation; Holly Shroud, Archmage Headpiece, Hero’s Crown of Faith, High Councillor’s Circlet

Shoulder: Iceshear Mantle; Aurora Mantle, Pauldrons of Arcane Rage

Chest: Mooncloth Robe

Wrist: Buccaneers’ Bracers , any bracer small enough to get hidden under gloves

Hand: Sanctified Crimson Acolyte Handwraps, Safeguard Gloves

Waist: Lingering Illness, Mindfire Waistband, Sash of Whispered Secrets, Guardian’s Silk Belt

Legs: hidden under the robe 

Feet: Wrathful Gladiator’s Treads of Salvation

STAVES: Staff of Divine Infusion, Splintering Greatstaff, Staff of the Blessed Seer, 

1 H : Cudgel of Consecration, Crescent Wand, Jaded Crystal Dagger, Fang of Oblivion

OFF-HANDS: Talisman of Kalecgos, Inscribed Fan, Bioluminescent Lamp

Last Seed, 28th, 4E 202

Ariveth caught me inspecting Keening and asked me what the “pretty-looking crystal dagger” was. I’ll have to be more careful in the future. Damn assassins and their penchant for making no sound when walking.