long live god

The Way to a Heart (1)

When Hanzo first joins Overwatch, it was just as tumultuous as the world around him.

Experiences of each agent—clashing ideologies were a focal point that nearly every argument gravitated around, and tensions only mounted with the addition of world-famous ex-weightlifter, Aleksandra “Zarya” Zaryanova, and Vishkar architect, Satya Vaswani into their fold. (They are perfectly fine people on their own barring their prejudices that make conversation outside of the simulations a bit terse, but it is not an issue Hanzo concerns himself with.)

The defunct Overwatch nearly crumbles on its own foundation before it’s even able to take off, the barrier of differing morals and methodologies is their greatest barrier to overcome. Fighting Talon is easy. Fighting for a cause as loose as ‘world peace’ is a fool’s errand made more complicated by the differing standpoints of each agent.

Hanzo understands this well, but needs no part of it, seeking refuge in either the highest elevation of the Watchpoint, the training rooms, or the cool and impartial cafeteria where the only judgment passed is from himself unto the food choices presented to him on the terminals. He found himself visiting the latter more often than he himself would have expected.

Keep reading

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No, it’s you.

—–

cheesy metaphor for freedom aside, look, they have plenty in common and would be adorable friends, dont look at me

Remember when Cas went all the way to the Purgatory portal with Dean then let go of his hand because he felt he still needed to pay for all his failures??? And now the Empty throws it all back in Cas’ face and he’s all, “BITCH!! TRY AND STOP ME LEAVING!!”

anonymous asked:

What's your take on the world ending for the Greek Gods? Or when they cease to be relevant to mankind, and what happens to them? Would Athena, Aphrodite and Artemis take the streets and march for Pride? Would Demeter be the manager at a zoo?

Time passes. The world changes. Temples fall. People now speak their names as if they are fairytales.

The gods are dead.

~

Apollo’s chariot lies broken and forgotten in the ruins of a city no one knows the name of anymore. He watches the sun crawl across the sky of its own volition, without him to push it forward.

“Do you miss it?” Artemis asks him, appearing by his side.  They stand at the top of a sparkling glass building, almost the same as ever. She walks among the mortals more than he does, she always has, and She’s dressed like one of them. Tight clothes and half her head shaved, sparkling gems curling up the delicate shell of her ear. She looks like one of the teenagers that fill his concert stadiums.

He thinks of the way his chariot threatened to escape his grasp every morning, the oppressive heat of the sun beating down on him, the burns and the undercurrent of fear that one day he would lose his grip on the reins and plunge the world into darkness.

Apollo leans his head on his sister’s shoulder. The sun rises slower without him, but it rises just the same. “No. Not really.”

~

Hephaestus’s workshop has evolved with the times – from a volcano base to a modern lab, but always a workshop bursting with creation. The cyclopes are still his best assistants.

Aphrodite steps over discarded parts and expertly walks around frantic cyclopes carrying bubbling concoctions. Her dark hair is swept up in a bun and she wears chunky glasses and a blood red pantsuit that almost hides the fact she’s the most beautiful woman to walk the earth. “I have a client, try not to blow up the house. Again.”

“Yes dear,” he says, but doesn’t looks away from his soldering. She hadn’t expected him too. His prosthetics are off and on the floor besides him, and he’s seated on a too-tall chair to compensate for the loss of height.

She reaches out and carefully touches the corner of his eye. Crow’s feet have started to work their way onto his face. They’re getting old. “It’s the couple that’s fighting because he wants kids and she doesn’t want to carry any kids but doesn’t want to say that. It would probably be easier if I just told them to adopt and threw them out the window.”

“Yes dear,” he repeats, sparks flying. A few land on her, but she doesn’t burn. Of course.

She moves her hand up and pushes it through his hair and resists the urge to pull him from his work and abandon her own so they can make out on his worktable. “I love you.”

Aphrodite turns to leave, but Hephaestus grabs her wrist and pulls her back. He holds up a single copper lily, the edges of the petals still glowing with heat it had taken to shape them. He carefully slides the stem into her hair so it sits at the base of her bun. He grazes her bottom lip with his thumb as he pulls his hand back to his side. “Yes dear.”

~

Demeter rages.

She makes imprudent deals to control an earth that no longer falls under her domain, and she enacts her revenge against the mortals in whatever way she can. They have forgotten her, forgotten the earth, and in their ignorance they seek to destroy it.

She shakes the bedrock and splits it open, but still they do not learn, and as the temperature of the earth rises so does her temper.

The sea is not hers to command, her power is of earth and of earth alone, and even now she gave more than could afford to lose to keep her grasp on it. But these mortals do not learn.

Demeter goes to the sea and makes an inadvisable bargain. She goes to the crumbling remains of Olympus and makes an even worse one.

Typhoons and hurricanes whip across the land. If they seek to destroy her, she will simply destroy them first.

~

Hera sits on a pure white couch in an elegant mansion, smiling for the journalist seated across from her.

“What do you think is the most influential decision you ever made?” he asks, “If you could pinpoint the success of your business to one moment, what would it be?”

She tilts her head as the light of the camera flashes. “Why, divorcing my husband, of course.”

“Would that be your advice to young women hoping to be as successful as you?” he asks, “To not get married?”

Hera thinks of thousands of years by Zeus’s side, and how little it got her. She thinks of Hestia’s men, and Artemis’s women, of Hephaestus’s love for Aphrodite, of the way Hades softened the sharpest of Persephone’s edges.

She says, “Do not get married to someone who makes you less than you are. If you are not a better person for being together than apart, then do not be together. It’s as simple as that.”

Simple, but not easy.

Leaving Zeus was the hardest thing she’s ever done.

~

Persephone isn’t forced to spend half the year on the mortal earth anymore. She goes when she pleases, which isn’t often.

Sometimes she’ll sit by Artemis’s side while she brings a new life into the world and holds the warm, wriggly child first. She visits hospitals and makes the flowers bloom out of season, and spends long hours sitting under the sun and feeling it’s warmth touch her face.

Hades left his realm rarely before, and even more rarely now. More people are being born than ever, meaning more people are dying than ever. Their realm is massive, comprising of all the dead of several millennia. Hades and Hecate spend their days as always – desperately trying to expand the realm so that they don’t all have to live on top of each other.

“Have you heard?” she asks one day, seated on his desk and leaning across it so he can’t work on the latest draft for another level of their realm. “The gods are dead.”

He gives up on attempting to tug it out from underneath her. “Are they? That’s odd, none of them are here.”

Persephone doesn’t bother to hide her smile. They haven’t figured it out yet. Maybe they never will. But when death comes for them, as death does for all, it will be to Hades and Persephone’s door they are brought. Hades himself will usher Gaia and Amphitrite into the underworld, when the time comes.

That time is not today.

“Darling, I really do need to work on this,” he ineffectually tugs on the map again.

She pushes him back into the chair, climbing on top of him and pressing their foreheads together. “No, you don’t.”

“No, I don’t,” he agrees, and obligingly moves his head so Persephone can nibble at his neck. He manages a whole thirty seconds before going, “I mean, I really do, Hecate said if I didn’t have a plan by the time she leaves for the mortal realm tomorrow, I’ll either have to wait until she gets back or do it by myself, and I’d really prefer to do neither–”

Persephone kisses him to shut him up, twisting and pushing them through the realm so they land on their bed. “I’ll help you finish it later. Focus on me now.”

Hades doesn’t answer, but he does flip them so he’s above her and reaches below her skirt, so she’ll take that as agreement.

~

Hestia sits around a bonfire, watching a group of teenagers get drunk and dance around the flames. They’ll never be younger than right now, never feel as much love for each other as they do right now.

She is besides an old man who warms his hands from the fire coming from an abandoned trash can.

She lies on a bed as a girl lights two dozen candles around it as a surprise for when her lover gets home.

She watches a young man make dinner for his boyfriend for the first time and burn the chicken on both sides. They eat it together anyway.

She sits on the kitchen counter when a sister takes out a pie from the oven, made special for her little brother’s birthday.

She is there when a father ticks the thermostat up high in freezing dawn of morning so it will be warm by the time his wife and children awaken.

Most people don’t have hearths anymore. But there is warmth, and love, and for Hestia that is enough.

~

As their names fade from existence, as his name is called less and less on the battlefields of mortal men, the more Ares sleeps.

He falls asleep in too tall trees and on park benches. He sleeps in seedy motel rooms and naps in every one of Athena’s libraries. He sleeps curled up on a chair in Aphrodite’s office, and on the floors of a lot of veteran resource centers. As fast as he can tell, that’s the most they help any veteran.

Still, his favorite place to sleep is the underworld.

He goes knocking on Orpheus’s door, who is always willing to play for him. “Hades is here,” Eurydice says, “Would you like to me to go get him?”

He shakes his head, “Persephone is home. I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

Eurydice and Orpheus share the same look of faint disapproval, but neither of the say anything, for which he is grateful.

He lies in the soft grass of the garden Persephone made, and lets Orpheus’s playing lull him to sleep.

Later, he’s woken by strong arms picking him up and holding him against a familiar chest. He doesn’t even have to open his eyes to know who’s holding him. “I can go,” he yawns, his actions at odds with his words as he pulls himself even closer the warmth coming off the king of the underworld.

“No,” Hades says. “Stay.”

Ares lets out a content sigh as Hades presses his lips to his forehead, and he’s not great about touch, about people laying their hands on him and getting in his space. But Hades has always felt safe, felt like home.

He stays.

~

The gods are dead.

Long live the gods.


gods and monster series, part xiv

read more of the gods and monsters series here

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Riding on these feelings,
We’ll go to the HAPPY HAPPY TRAIN!

Some live-action BATB headcanons (mostly about Lumiere and Plumette’s wedding because I’m a sap):

  • Prince/Beast is bi or pan (”…his parties with the most beautiful people,” “…and earn their love in return”).
  • Before the spell was broken, the members of the staff who were able to move throughout the castle would relay messages between Cadenza and Garderobe from time to time.
  • Lumiere and Plumette get engaged soon after they become human again. Lumiere had promised her it would happen once the curse was lifted, and sometimes talking about their possible future was comforting to them.
  • Lumiere makes Cogsworth his best man, mostly because he’s very organized, but also because it means he’ll have to give a toast and admit that Lumiere has good points.
  • Chip is the ring bearer.
  • Cadenza plays the processional music, and Garderobe sings for their first dance (okay I’m going by modern wedding customs, I don’t know if any of this is how they did it in 18th century France). 
  • Lumiere cries when he sees her in the dress.
  • So does Cogsworth.
  • Everyone’s crying or almost crying during the vows, mainly because they thought there would never be a chance for this to happen.
  • When the officiant says “You may now kiss the bride” he hasn’t even finished the sentence before Plumette grabs Lumiere’s face and kisses him.
  • The Prince insists on throwing them a huge reception in the ballroom and basically invites the entire town (LeFou goes with his new boyfriend, of course).
  • Plumette has a dance with Chip and he’s standing on her feet the whole time and it’s adorable.
  • Everyone keeps saying how Plumette is the most beautiful woman there (and let’s be real, she is). Lumiere can’t take his eyes off her and he keeps smiling because he’s so ridiculously in love with her and he can’t believe his luck.

So @packratofdenialism gave me this idea for a fanfic where Meredith lives and she and Yondu coparent Peter. This happens in my head because Yondu got suspicious when Ego told him to pick another kid up “in about a year” and investigated and decided to help Meredith out as a way of dealing with the guilt he feels since he’s come to the conclusion Ego’s done something awful to the other kids he’s brought him. Here’s a scene from before Yondu and Meredith go to the Collector for a potential fix as their last idea. They’re waiting in a bar for the Collector to send for them, and Meredith ends up making Yondu come clean as to what he thinks is really going on (he initially lied to get her and Peter to come with him by pretending Ego sent him).

—-

“If this doesn’t work though…you’ll still take Peter to his father, right?” Meredith asked.

Yondu went still.

“Yondu?” she asked. “You’ll promise me, won’t you? That you’ll take him home?”

“…Can’t promise you that, Meredith,” he said quietly.

“What?” she asked.

“I can’t,” he said stiffly. “Can’t promise you…because I won’t do it.”

“Why the hell not?” she demanded, leaping to her feet. Her world spun instantly and Yondu grabbed her before she hit the floor. “I thought you wanted to help us!”

“I am helping you!” Yondu said. “And I won’t be helping him if I take him there!”

“Why?” she yelled.

“Cause none of the others ever came back!” he snapped.

“…Others?” she asked as Yondu slowly sat her back down on the stool. “What others?”

“His other kids,” Yondu said. “I…I took Ego his other kids. No one ever saw them again.”

“He….had other kids…” Meredith said. She felt very cold all of the sudden as things started make some sort of terrible sense. Why Yondu was so cagey about why “Ego sent him” to pick her up and try to find her help. Why the Ravagers crew clearly hadn’t had a clue of where to start looking for how to deal with a tumor. The oddness of the tumor being so hard to operate on even for more advanced species…

“Yeah. I didn’t tell you cause you wouldn’t have let me help,” Yondu said. “But…you’re not special, Meredith. He’s done this before. It’s not that he couldn’t bear to watch you die. It’s that he told me to wait until you did die to get your boy and bring him to Ego.”

Meredith took a deep breath as she tried to understand what the hell she was being told. She’d known something was up with Yondu’s original story for a while now, but for it to be that…

“That’s what all the whispering was, then?” she asked. “All those times you stopped talking when Peter or I came over?”

“Some of the crew figured you weren’t really cargo. ‘S why I made you quartermaster. Shut up the whiners if you were puling your weight,” he said.

“And what happened if I was cured and demanded to go see Ego?” she asked.

“…Honestly I was going to let Horuz handle it. He likes being an ass so he could have broke it hard and not minded the fallout,” Yondu said. “I’ll admit, was not looking forward to Peter crying. Makes a chest twist up when he starts whimpering like that…”

“You think the tumor’s weird.”

She wasn’t entirely sure why she said it, why she remembered him saying that.

Yondu nodded slowly, “Yeah. We’ve been told that. Remember, you thought it was just, uh, intimate exposure to…”

“No. No you think…you think more,” she said. “You don’t think it was an accident, do you?”

Yondu cringed a bit under her gaze. She was right. He’d put a lot more thought into this than just a favor to a dying woman. He’d thought of the why as more than some accident. He just hadn’t said anything.

“…You think he did it on purpose,” Meredith said slowly.

“I don’t know what-”

“I didn’t say you knew, I said it’s what you think,” Meredith corrected, cutting Yondu off. “That’s what you think happened.”

Yondu sighed, “I know he knew about it. And I know he told me to get ready to pick Peter up when you died, which he had a pretty good timescale for, despite never seeing the boy alive meaning he’d bene gone for over six years. And I know every kid I ever brought him was never seen again and he didn’t seem to give a damn about any of their other parents.”

Meredith let that digest. It made terrible sense. Ma had been right all along. Just a fling for a guy using her who left her with a kid.

Oh god what was that thing he’d planted on earth? She’d have to send a call home over it, tell them to get…oh who did you even call to deal with that shit?

“How many did you bring him?” Meredith asked, trying to focus on the issue at hand, on verifying what Yond was saying now when he’d lied at the start.  

“’Bout a dozen,” Yondu said, staring at the bar top. “Wasn’t counting really; I was greedy and I admit it. They were his kids, he said pickup for pay so I picked up. Don’t know if he had anyone else doing it. Probably did. If I got suspicious enough to stop others probably did too and I was just the next he asked. Guy’s been around a long time.”

“And you never heard from them again?”

“Not even the ones I suggested should call if they needed anything,” Yondu said. “Last one…last one I was going to turn down. She was young. Younger than Quill.”

Meredith bristled at that. “Chronologically or developmentally?”

“Both,” Yondu said. “But the crew needed money and Ego could make gems so I caved. Not proud of it. Gave the kid a com, told her to call me if she got scared, or in a year if it went well. An anniversary call. Said I’d give a present if she did.”

“She never called.”

“Nope. Would have been three days before he called me about you,” Yondu said. “I don’t know what he’s doing to his kids, Meredith, but it ain’t good. I have my way? I never take that boy of yours near Ego.”

“So you know he’s collecting his children who are never heard from again…and you think he was going to kill me…why?” Meredith asked. “Why not just have you take Peter?”

“Maybe he figured, boy has your genes, he’ll make his way back to you before I get him to Ego,” Yondu said. “But he won’t do that if you’re not there.”

“Jackass,” Meredith muttered. “…Him, not you.”

“Nah, I’m a jackass. Took all those others to him, didn’t I?” Yondu asked.

“Wish you hadn’t?” Meredith asked.

Yondu “mm’d” in a manner she took to mean agreement.

“That’s why you helped, isn’t it?” she asked. “You felt guilty.”

“S’ not really guilt in your case,” Yondu said. “Didn’t have a thing to do with you or your boy.”

“But you had ‘a thing to do with’ around a dozen of Peter’s…siblings,” Meredith said. “With Ego’s other children. You wanted to keep Peter safe, didn’t you?”

Yondu huffed, “Maybe I just wanted to piss the jackass off by keeping Peter from him.”

“You didn’t need me alive for that,” Meredith said.

“…Was lousy. What he was trying to pull with you,” Yondu said. “Was crap.”

“Think he did that to any of the other…parents?” Meredith asked.

“Don’t know. He didn’t give me timescales for them,” Yondu said. “Just said to pick up one of his kids. Just did it. Never asked. I was a fool who never asked.”

“Yeah, well,” Meredith sighed. “I was a fool who fell for a spaceman. So we’re both fools.”

—-

That’s part of what’s written so far! Hope everyone likes it!

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Sormik week day 6! Woohoo! I’m back.
No baby Sormiks this time, but have all the more fluff. This one is for @amarietie/ @tmariea for Storms in Our Blood. Today’s theme is “Lastonbell—Promises/Acceptance”, and although this scene indeed takes place in Elysia and has nothing to do with the Lastonbell promise, I figured the prompt was as good as any to do a marriage proposal.
I… I went over the top with the cheesiness, didn’t I? *hides*
The layers have fancy names to distract from the ridiculous romance going on here. Like “background panels”, background background”, “fucking rain”, “fucking lightning”, “rainy bits” and “rainy muchs”.

Anyway, I’m sorry this is so rushed, but I hope it gets the idea across just fine! I really really hope you like it, Mari! :,)
This is my little thanks for your kind words and deeds for me, and for your Earth Armatus Rose occasionally saving my ass in ToLink, hoho. HAPPY SEVERAL MONTHS LATE BIRTHDAY OR SOMETHING

For everyone else: go read the story, it includes more artistic use of seraphic artes, and more kisses in the rain, if that doesn’t convince you I don’t know what to tell you