seen from Mexico
seen from Maldives
seen from United States
seen from Pakistan
seen from Bangladesh
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from South Korea
seen from Malaysia
seen from Spain
seen from France
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Slovakia
seen from France
seen from United States
seen from Ireland
seen from Germany
seen from Brazil
seen from Türkiye
seen from Germany
Kaos’ to do list
Get new voice recorder Check on pets Annoy Kay Buy more sugar Finish Hylian to English guide Flirt with Sora Check on Corax Buy more pencils/pens Ask Alan about installing Mass Effect: Andromeda Find a different era of Hyrule. Research the legends, find exact dates Ask Cerus if he wants to go to Nukaworld Take at least one friend to see Beauty and the Beast See Revan for training Your mom
🎬 + teacher / mentor (hiii, I didn't know there was any Nioh love at all left on tumblr!)
send these
William is dead.
Hanzo sees it happen out the corner of his eye. All he can afford is a split second glance before the yoki swinging its axe down on him and the flaming oni-bis swarming around them demand his attention.
The corrupted fox sawing into William's leg with its teeth makes no difference. The tengu sinks its talons into his shoulders, hauls him off the ground -- the fox hangs on, blood spraying from its mouth -- and flings him onto his back. A loud crack might be his rifle breaking. Might be his neck. Whatever it is, it doesn't kill him. The tengu driving its staff through his chest does.
Growling, snarling, roaring hordes of yokai drown out any sound William makes.
It's over, Hanzo thinks, forcing legs threatening to turn to jelly to dip and weave past claws and swords and the heat of a skeleton's parting cannon shot into the cover of the woods. The words run rampant in his head: it's over, it's over. Only clinging desperately to his father's final words keeps him watching for landmarks and his stomach from emptying itself. He is ninja. He is calm. Haste is the harbinger of failure.
It's not over, he tells himself, The war goes on. Ieyasu is safe. The ranks are lined with legendary generals and the Liefde's cannons. William's death--
--makes his heart strangle itself, knowing he'll never again see those beautiful, blue eyes size up a threat, narrow in disbelief at the notion of yes, the kusarigama is a real weapon, gleam with pleasure as the nuances of a joke that only make sense in Japanese are not lost on him--
William is alive. Sitting with his back to a shrine and breathing hard, but alive.
Hanzo's own lungs stop working.
He faked it. He faked his death.
That's advanced ninjutsu. Where the hell did he learn that? Last time Hanzo tried teaching him how to throw kunai, Adams gave up after five tries, scowling and storming away. If he wanted to kill something far away, he snapped, he'd use a gun.
But Hanzo's seen that temper tamed, a shark on the end of a chain. Pride makes men commit madness. If William has somehow been training in secret--
Adams winces as he finds his feet; Hattori runs over to lend a bracing arm. He sets his hand on an armored shoulder and fights the urge to kiss him senseless. He is ninja. He is calm. "Impressive," he manages.
William stares at him for a moment, finally nods. "She is."
--that was magic? Magic can do that? When they're both safe and sound, Hanzo needs to have a long conversation with Lady Fuku.
⏳ (for Genke)
[For every “⏳” I receive, my muse will openly talk about a bit of their backstory]
Kurou blinks. It’s not often he’s asked about his past nowadays. He thinks for a moment, idly tossing a toy for Smidgen to chase down as he sits in the living room.
“… First off, please use my given name, Hide-san. Even if I’m not your Yoshitsune,” and that’s a concept his brain hurts considering, “there’s no need to be so formal with me. And… I suppose you’re more interested in the way I ended up here after my death.” A soft smile, and he grabs the toy and tosses it again when the little mutt terrier brings it back. “The specifics still elude me and everyone else, but… I never really moved on, even after my final duel with aneue—my Hide,— and so I wandered between the youkai and the dead’s realms for a while. Ember and Ibuki found me when the Realms were particularly close, and, well. My darling popped the Realm Rift without meaning to and I was dumped back into the living world, for better or worse.”
He glances at the restored armor displayed in the corner, next to the rack Usumidori sits upon. “I did decide to stay here, even when offered a method of going back and finally resting. But when there’s this much going on, when Ember’s working this hard to try to understand the Realms better for everyone’s sake, when those damned spirit stones are still causing issues…” a shrug. “I couldn’t leave. Not yet. Though, the learning curve of adjusting from an 800-year gap in society and technology… It was not exactly easy.” He shakes his head, then chucks the toy again, watching Smidgen nearly bowl over Dash in the process of chasing it down. “I did decide to finally shed my old identities and start over. While the past will always haunt me, I can at least live beyond what aniue decided for me. And now it’s been several years, and I’m quite okay with where I’ve ended up in life.”
❛ things aren’t always what they seem. ❜ (burnedmywings)
“As is so often the case,” Kaos replied with a knowing smile. He was right; from the outside it appeared to be a perfectly innocuous clinic, not a front for a nefarious secret society. It sensed different, that was for sure, but it wasn’t like anyone besides her would notice that.
“It’s too bad; I hope they don’t have to close down the clinic after we’re done with it. I’d hate to think about all those people that use it for legitimate reasons.”
From Here
“Only half, huh?” He snorts, a smirk flashing briefly at his lips. Of course, the rest of the other’s assertions quickly earn him a sharp glare and indignant scoff. Jensen knew how to press every single one of his buttons in quick succession, yet even knowing that this was his intention didn’t make it any easier for Frank to resist the resulting flare in his temper.
“Oh, is that how it goes? Because I seem to recall bailing you out of a fair amount of trouble.” Pritchard lets the rebuke hang in the air for a few moments, before his expression shifts into something smug. “Face it, Jensen, when it comes to missions like this, you need me as much as I need you. Precisely because I do know my trade.”
[ @burnedmywings ]
▼, ❖
SEND A SYMBOL FOR A HEADCANON ABOUT MY MUSE.@burnedmywings
▼: What would you find in your muse’s refrigerator right now?
normally, not a lot. toby tries to have more food around that doesn’t need to be refrigerated. cheese, butter, lunchmeats, the occasional leftover dinner, several sodas, and maybe a few beers. her fridge is quite small (she’s used to living in small apartments by now, as compared to the rather large fridge and freezer at her parent’s house), and doesn’t hold much. most of her food is immediately eaten (takeout), at a restaurant, or in a cupboard/pantry.
what definitely is never in her fridge? milk. can’t stand the taste, and even if she did, she’s lactose intolerant.
❖: What is the attitude and appearance that your muse presents in public? How does this differ from the attitude they have in private, when they are alone?
in public, toby is usually very straightforward and somewhat harsh. she normally doesn’t monitor how her thoughts come out. her outward appearance is also very unapologetic. she feels as though her tattoos speak for themselves, and they do. the only thing that is slightly reserved about her is how she dresses. she prefers to be covered up, even wearing long sleeves during warmer weather (it’s simply a comfort thing for her).
specifically when toby is alone, she’ll shed a layer or two, she’ll be slightly paranoid and show concern for her personal safety until she’s busy with something inane, but she’s much more comfortable in her own space when she’s alone. she’ll lounge around over things and open up in regards to body language.
in private, with other people, she’ll be closed off and uncomfortable, always aware of her thoughts, of her body. she’s very guarded and hyper-aware of what she’s doing, and it irritates her. in crowds, around a large amount of people, it’s a show. in close quarters, it’s different. and she hates it.
How does Kaos deal with encountering what's essentially other people's versions in other verses? Unless that's not how it works.
Kaos sees alternate versions of the same people as all estranged relatives to each other; they don’t know one another, but they might be similar in some respects.
Despite her immaturity Kaos is a professional so she doesn’t purposely treat alternates of those she calls friends any different than anyone else. She might be more friendly, though.
