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bee-ina-boat · 6 months

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heres a collection of concept art for the rest of the entities for the mythos au!! if you're wondering where the eye is, they've been drawn already!

they are all FAR from done. keep in mind these are all just my initial concepts and i plan to do in-depth design sheets as i go to explore their designs more.

IF YOU HAVE ANY IDEAS ON HOW TO IMPROVE THESE DESIGNS PLEASE THROW EM AT ME- MY ANON IS OPEN AND I READ TAGS I DONT CARE JUST!!!! GIMME!!!!!

(also au context: the magnus mythos is an au where the entities are all gods, similar to various religious mythology, rather than paranormal entities that feed on fear)

design thoughts for each of them under the cut

The Web - God of Fate (she/it): im pretty happy with her design atm, shes meant to be a half spider half woman thing and i love that for her. shes probably the one ive thought the most on so far given her importance to the story. i want her to wear silks and shiny silver jewelry that just sparkles like wet spiderwebs do, not sure if im gonna keep the veil?

The Dark - God of the Dark (she/he/it): probably my weakest concept at the moment. it doesnt do the dark any justice. i mean i like the cloak idea but i want them to be very tendrilly, all consuming, shadowy, but i dont know how to properly portray them :/

The Desolation - God of Destruction and Fire (they/it): i have a neat vision for them! i want them to be made of coal and ash and smoke, to be burning and glowing on the inside, and their body is decorated with melted wax to look like clothes. not quiiiiiite sure about how their melty candle dress is now? i want it to be less constrictive

The Stranger - God of the Unknown and the Whimsical (he/she/they/it): it's meant to be this. weird wirey creature hidden behind masks and a lot of fabrics, like the framework of a poseable plush doll? i like the way the masks look but im not so sure about the body.

The Vast - God of the Above (she/he/they/it): im not so sure about his design at all im gonna be real. i want them to look like the atmosphere and be covered in clouds and have mountains for feet and an ocean cape but i feel like it might be a bit?? idk??? im just not that happy with it :/

The End - God of Death and Time (they/it): ugh i love this concept sm, making death read as less scary and more divine is so fun. theyre based on a seraphim and a sand timer,

The Buried - God of the Underneath (she/he/they/it): ANOTHER OF MY FAVORITES!!!! i love them. theyre inspired by hermit crabs!! and they have silver chains holding their shell to them. they look so endearing with their lil lopsided eyes ;; <3

The Flesh - God of the Body and Meat (she/he/they/it): i have so many ideas for the flesh y'all- im very excited to do a concept sheet for them. theyre meant to have no skin, just exposed bone and muscle, large limbs, hooves, exposed heart underneath a ribcage, teeth that close around their abdomen. white bandages that wrap around like clothes. a teeth/horn crown? i dont quite know whether to go for a more animalistic look or a more human one? like- theres so many ways to go with him idek!!!

The Hunt - God of Predators and Pride (they/it): see, i like this design but i feel like its too werewolf like? yknow? thats cool!! but itreads more monster to me than God :/

The Corruption - God of Nature, Rot, and Disease (she/they/it): i love this weird bug thing. this one i was really inspired for (mostly because. corruption aligned. so obviously im gonna think about this one alot) theyre this weird bug thing, the veil is inspired by the one from the art on the wiki! i want to maybe make them a bit more gross and weird because nature is like that sometimes, a moot on tiktok suggested that i add animal bones!! and i think thats SO smart im absolutely going too

The Spiral - God of the Incomprehensible (it/its): this weirdo is so hard to pin down istg. i imagine them as this spiral thing. body is kindof liquidy, arms are spindly and long, multiple shifting faces, overall just constantly changing and moving and like!!! how am i meant to draw that??? when my brain cant even wrap my head around what its supposed to look like yknow??? bruh jrdbhgfjdldgfh- that being said i think the main problem with the design is that it just gives me too many Michael vibes!!! is it the hair? the arms? its probably both.

The Lonely - God of Solitude and the Self (they/it): i like what this one has going so far! theyve got fog hair, fog tears, their body is meant to be splotchy like turquoise marble, i vibe with it so hard. not so sure what to do with their outfit tho :/

The Slaughter - God of War (he/they/it): another one of my more stronger designs i think! centaur with weapons sticking into them, face concealed, medieval armor and antlers- it vibes

the extinction isnt drawn because i literally have no idea what they should look like aside from color palette-

once again any and all suggestions will be taken!!!! i need ideas!!! plese!!!!

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twst-drabbles · 6 months

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Floyd and Grim 1

Summary: One of Floyd’s favorite words beyond your name was ‘Seal.’ Whenever you hear it, it’s not because he’s seeing the actual animal, it’s because he saw Grim and is chasing him around the yard.

(Floyd being a little shit is always fun.)

“Seal!” A high squeaky voice almost pierced your ear as you fumbled with your newspaper, “Seal seal seal! Oomph… Seal!”

A wet flop, almost like a small body fell into mud before the yelling started up. Uh-oh.

You place your paper down on the table and got up. Seems you were sitting for too long because some of the bones in your spine popped. You ignored the slight pain. There are more important things to focus on. “Alright, what’s Floyd up to now?”

Seal was... an odd choice of a word for that cat. Why seal? Because he's gray and round? Probably. You don't really know any other cat that his specific shade of gray. Or has fire on the ears.

The stray cat that’s comes around, Grim you named him, has been hanging out more often in the garden. Probably because he’s figured out the little pet door you installed in the back. You’re pretty sure he comes inside to sleep in the corner, since there’s some scorch on the kitchen tiles and little bits of gray fur.

You haven’t put anything in his corner yet, not out of apathy but out of knowing the sensibilities of cats. The minute you put in something new in their territory, they either never approach again or they pee all over it. You don’t like either choices, so you just don’t.

You open the door and were not shocked by what you saw.

“Floyd!” You yelled out, knowing it was vain now that Floyd was up and chasing the yowling Grim around the yard. “Oh boy…”

From one side of the yard to the other, Floyd chased after the flame-eared cat with no regard for his distress. His ears flared brightly while sharp teeth and too-strong jaws opened wide and clipped just an inch away from Grim’s tail. No matter how fast Grim ran, Floyd was just an inch away from chomping on him.

In fact, Floyd was keeping up so well that Grim basically has his butt scooting against the floor. A weird little crab run, almost. A furry ball.

Floyd was clearly dinged up with bumps, bruises and cuts. Completely slathered in mud from the neck down but he didn’t care. Not when he’s running on the high of the chase.

How the cat hasn’t started a wild fire in your backyard is beyond you. Well, probably can’t on the account of what happened last time he did that. You can tell that thistle-like collar was not comfortable.

“Alright!” You stepped in just as they were in front of you and captured them both, Floyd by the tail and Grim by the scruff, “Stop.”

Floyd, upside down, swung himself back and forth violently, swiping his little claws right at Grim to try and grab him. “Seal! Seal seal!”

Grim practically retracted further into your hand, hissing. Seems he fears the little eel more than he hated you. Huh.

You walked to the tallest boulder and plopped Grim on top of it. And, of course, the minute you let go, the cat showed you his attitude by sniffing the air and raising his nose high in the air, as if none of you were worth his time.

You ignored him with a turn of your back. “So, Floyd.”

Grim, behind you, started a meow but choked on his saliva.

Floyd went limp now that his entertainment was gone. He stuck out his tongue at you and gave you a raspberry.

“You’re going in quarantine.” All those scraps and cuts along with the mud is a great recipe for infection.

Floyd whined at you, sticking out his grabby hands, demanding for cuddles like that’ll somehow make you forgive him.

“You don’t get cuddles Floyd. You get a bath.”

He sputtered angrily at you as you walked back into the kitchen.

“Hate you.”

“I know.”

Oh, he learned some new words. Interesting. You can’t help but wonder who taught him those.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst-drabbles #twst-drabbles exclusive #drabble #ramshackle #grim #octavinelle #floyd #floyd leech #house pet au #reader insert

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icarustypicalfall · 8 months

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Little Crab

Rodolfo parra x reader fic

Guess who decided to write a comfort fic for fall4rudy based on a story she wrote when she was 4?

ofc me :D enjoy this cute little thing :3

this isn't inspired by any official prompt for the event unfortunately, but i really wanted to write something that felt close to my heart :)

tysm @glitterypirateduck for hosting this beautiful contest about my fav charachter🤭 tysm to anyone who wrote about him, y'all are really incredible and so talented 🫶🏻💗

inspired by @\-jaXXon- bot on cai!!

summary: waking up from a nightmare was never a pleasant moment. But only when you held him close, he felt safe.

warnings: sfw, no use of yn just you, mentions of (nightmares, slight ptsd, self conscious, war, breakdowns), comfort, pure fluff, slight angst

note: if you dont want to read the parts about the incident, you can scror down to the three stars, it wont affect the story :D

"honey i belong with you, and only you, baby"

Your husband, Rudy, returned home from his mission a month ago. Typically, his cherished moments were the vacations he enjoyed after lengthy missions, allowing him to spend quality time with you and make up for the time spent apart.

Upon his return, he shared with you the incident he experienced while searching for Hassan—a traumatic encounter with a fire that left him terrified and in tears. His rescue by Alejandro made him feel reborn, yet the searing heat of the fire still lingers, creeping through his being to reach his core and grip his heart at times.

Since his homecoming, you discovered that Rudy suffers from nightmares, often waking up in the early hours of the morning, breathless and panicked. Seeking solace and reassurance, he turns to you, the only person he allows himself to be vulnerable to.

As you cradle him, he never ceases to apologize for disturbing your sleep or causing you to be late for work, blaming himself for the burden he believes he imposes on you.

One evening, as you sat together at the dinner table, Rudy whispered with his head bowed, his fingers fidgeting with his spoon, "I'm sorry, mi Cielo. I shouldn't be such a crybaby to you... I truly don't want to."

No need to mention how hard you tried to not cry as you cradled him later, with both of you sprawled on the couch, soaking in the silence to the bones.

No matter how often you assure him that you don't mind comforting him, even if it means waking up in the middle of the night, his guilt persists.

He cannot shake these self-conscious thoughts, despite the numerous missions he has accomplished and the abilities he possesses. Rudy cannot bear the feeling of being a burden or not being good enough, even amidst his trauma and fears.

☆☆☆

In the dimly lit room, it was nearly three in the morning, and you found yourself awakened by your husband's restlessness. His face contorted in discomfort, sweat beads forming on his forehead.

Gently shaking his shoulder, you roused him, his eyes snapping open, his brows furrowed, struggling to steady his breath. Brimming with shame, fear, and anguish, Rudy squeezed your hand, a tear escaping his eyes as he looked down.

"Forgive me, amor... I've awakened you once more..."

Your hand cradled his jaw, feeling the warmth radiating from his soft cheek beneath your cool touch. With your thumb, you gently wiped away his tear, tilting your head as you offered a reassuring smile.

"Don't apologize, my darling, I don't mind.. Tell me.. how do you feel"

His eyes shimmered, and though the room was dim, you could detect a faint blush adorning his cheeks. Leaning into your touch, he closed his eyes and murmured, "Tired... But I don't think I can sleep again... Perhaps I'll watch a movie or something. You should go back to sleep, mi Cielo."

Knowing him all too well, aware of his reluctance to impose or seek more attention, you shook your head and enveloped him in a tight embrace. Rudy hugged you back immediately, resting his head in the crook of your neck, his warm breath against your skin sent shivers down your spine. Without thinking, your hand absentmindedly stroked his shiny waves as you sighed.

"Stay with me. I don't want you to leave."

He nodded, uttering something unintelligible, but you assumed it was an affirmation. Drawing circles on his back, the quiet ambiance calmed both of you. An idea sparked in your mind, and you smiled nostalgically at the thought before tugging gently on Rudy's hair to capture his attention. He looked at you, now more serene, seemingly finding solace in the rhythm of your heartbeat as he listened.

"Would you like to hear a story, amor?"

His brow furrowed, but he nodded nonetheless, resting his cheek on your shoulder as he gazed into your eyes.

"Please don't judge me, but I wrote it when I was four."

He chuckled, nodding before resting his head on your shoulder.

"Once upon a time, in the deep blue sea, there lived a crab with his family. His name was Little Crab."

Rudy smiled, nuzzling closer to you, his eyes closing as you continued to caress his hair.

"Little Crab was kind-hearted, always offering help to his family and neighbors. Yet, he harbored a fear."

Rudy nodded, contented sighs escaping his lips.

"Little Crab was afraid of venturing into the ocean. He had never dared to explore its depths, fearing he might never return to his loved ones."

"Oh, that must have been truly saddening," Rudy murmured, his voice barely a whisper.

"Well, yes, it was... until Little Crab discovered just how much he was loved, how everyone eagerly awaited his return, and how they never gave up on him. Encouraged by their support, he mustered the courage to try. And he succeeded! Little Crab learned to swim, he became the most adventurous crab in the deep blue sea."

Rudy's breathing had steadied, his eyes now filled with admiration as he gazed at you. "That's a beautiful story, mi amor. Thank you."

You smiled, the weight of his nightmares momentarily lifted. "Rudy, just like Little Crab, you have the strength to overcome your fears. And I will always be here, supporting you every step of the way. Te quiero mucho, amor."

As you both settled back into bed, a sense of peace washed over you. The room was now filled with the soft rhythm of Rudy's breathing, a testament to the comfort and solace you were able to provide.

Knowing he felt safe with you made your heart flutter. Rudy was a fire and you were a moth, flying right into the flames, burning with the despair of war and fear but rejoicing the glory of your long-standing love and commitment to one another.

masterlist • cutie • pattotie • <3

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stormbreaker101 · 9 days

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El Dorado's History, Morganthe's Backstories, and Kane's Plan

Or, in other words, trying to make all of the scattered bits of canon make sense.

Disclaimer: This is headcanon. Though I try to not directly contradict canon, I do have to fill in the blanks a lot, and sometimes something in canon just blatantly does not work with everything else.

So, let's start at the very beginning.

The creation of the Spiral, and the Titans being put to sleep. The way that the Fire Titan sleeps in Dragonspyre and the Ice Titan hibernates in Grizzleheim, the Storm Titan slumbers in (what is now called) El Dorado. I was inspired by this post by @bowl-of-wyrms. Along with the Tritons, El Dorado was home to many species we see elsewhere in the Spiral, particularly in Celestia, Skull Island, Wizard City, and Lemuria: The Watermoles, Crabs, Sharks, Prawn, other Fishfolk, Troggies (though that's such a distateful sounding name for them, I've decided to rename them the Coqui after the animal of the same name, inspired by a friend who has done the same) and perhaps other peoples based on aquatic & tropical species. Collectively, I'm going to call the people who lived there the Doradans.

Closeby to El Dorado was Celestia, a world and people hand-made by Grandmother Raven to steward the Astral Schools, similar to how she made the Kalamar, Dwarves, Nimbari, and Alphoi in Empyrea to steward Life/Death, Fire/Ice, Myth/Storm, and her Edicts. The reason the Celestians ended up separate from Empyrea was because the Astral Magics (being a triad) couldn't make a Paradox Chain the way the other schools could, so Raven placed the world elsewhere.

I like to think of Celestia as becoming El Dorado's moon, or the two worlds being like a binary system. This is in reference to my other headcanons of how the Spiral works as a physical galaxy (which I should write up and post sometime lmao). In any case, these two worlds are VERY close-knit.

Another world that is closely involved with the two is Azteca. It's a bit more of a 'third wheel' in the system, but there had been the trade of knowledge and craft between Azteca and the other two. Azteca has its own extensive craft of Astral magic (as seen in-game with the spells you can learn from there), and El Dorado contains plenty of Aztecan architecture and stonework (I shall explain my evidence for this headcanon shortly).

Aside from architecture and magic, a third notable craft came from these three worlds coming together: the Golden Organs. The Organs were devised to help one control the Storm Titan if he were to ever wake up again. They channel different aspects of other Schools of magic to help one counter and bind Storm.

The Golden Eye gives its user perfect perception, and draws on the Life school as the force of awareness and existence. Observing everything from the mightiest of forces to the smallest pieces of being. It takes in both information and magic, opening more than just your physical eyes to all that the Song of Creation has to offer.

The Golden Mind gives its user perfect recollection, and draws on the Ice school's tankiness. It works as a magical storage system to contain and withstand all the information that comes through the Eye, protecting its user from overwhelm. (And from that perfect knowledge retention comes heightened intelligence like we see in Kane.)

The Golden Heart gives its user the ability to hold all the mana that the Eye helps you take in, drawing on the Fire school's connotations of passion and energy. In nonliving beings such as clockworks, it would also give them the capacity to feel desires and emotion to the extent that a living person does.

The Golden Hand gives its user the strength and precision to harness all the mana within the Heart, taking inspiration from Death being all about finality and transformation and channeling the fear from oneself to others.

Missing just one of the four Organs when trying to control the Storm Titan can spell disaster for both the entity using them and for the lands around them.

El Dorado's reputation of being home to wondrous magics has existed for just about as long as El Dorado itself has existed. Ages ago, the Golden Hand and Eye were stolen away and lost elsewhere in the Spiral. This thievery spurred the Doradans and Celestians to create the Golden Sentinels to guard the remaining two Organs, which were basically souped up versions of the various Constructs we see in Celestia.

So that's my headcanons on El Dorado. Now onto my Arc 2 thoughts.

In my interpretation, Morganthe grew up in Avalon, raised by her elder brother Malory and mentored by Merle Ambrose. After King Artorious's near-death and transformation into the Pendragon, Merle Ambrose decided to leave Avalon and found Ravenwood Academy & Wizard City. Morganthe was among the first students enrolled.

She also became the first student expelled from Ravenwood after her attempts to practice Astral magic nearly resulted in the destruction of Wizard City. She joined Coleridge's crew and ended up in Khrysalis. After destroying the Radiant Alcazar (the burrowers' own Star magic temple) she, Coleridge, and the crew landed on the new North side of Khrysalis, where the Arachna were quick to take her in. They helped her master Sun magic in the Solar Arc, but couldn't help her with Moon and Star. She also began to earn the title of Shadow Queen here, as the Arachna recognized her potential and were willing to build her up as theirs.

Thus began Morganthe's warpath. She started in Zafaria, claiming it as a base of operations (which is how I'm interpreting the whole "Zafaria was once her home" comment that Avalon seems to otherwise immediately retcon) and trying to bully her way into learning its Star magic. She gained a sizable following from each of the four nations, though lost the Deck of Shadows that the Arachna gave her in a fight against the newly founded Council of Light.

Embittered by her loss not just in the new Star magic she had just gotten from Zafaria but also the Sun magic from the Solar Arc, Morganthe decides she must go big or go home. So she goes big, marshalling the new Morgantine Army against Celestia, the divine center of Astral magic. The Army is made of Shadow Weavers from the Arachna, some of her Zafarian followers, and the undead she pulled from Celestia's own graves.

This is where El Dorado and Morganthe overlap. The Celestians and Doradans summon the Storm Titan to try and turn the tide (ha) against the Morgantine Army. However, only having the Heart and Mind was their downfall. Without the Eye, they couldn't take in all of the power that Storm had. Without the Hand, they couldn't control what power the Heart was able to absorb and store.

The Storm Titan ended up permanently flooding Celestia, knocking Celestia & El Dorado off of their regular orbits, and even chipping some pieces of El Dorado to scatter into the Spiral. One group of chunks became its own world: Skull Island, where we see remains of Doradan and Aztecan society today in its scattered ruins.

As for Morganthe, she failed to go big so she had no choice but to go home. Back to Khrysalis, where she finally relented and admitted that she couldn't grasp Astral magic yet. It was always far too slippery. She needed something stronger. She needed to actually use Shadow. Becoming the Shadow Queen not just in title, but in ability. It was the only avenue she could see left, the last option presented to her.

Oh and because Lemuria has had me in a chokehold for the past 2.5 years and will continue to strangle me for years after, it's only a few years after the Storm Titan's destruction (also known among the surviving Doradans both on El Dorado & flooded Celestia as "The Great Storm") that Stallion Quartermane leads the Old One to Celestia. The Old One took a fragment of what little dry land already remained and some of the Watermoles & Sharkfolk for Lemuria (whose descendants we see there today), swooping in as some benevolent savior that they oh so desperately needed after they just suffered a mass-extinction event and the loss of a LOT of their people and creations to the flood.

And now this headcanon history jumps some 1500 years later, when Marco Pollo creates the map to El Dorado. He and his crew make the journey there, and Gazpaccio manages to snag the Golden Heart and Mind, though not without angering the Golden Sentinels that the ancient Doradans and Celestians had made after the first thievery.

Gazpaccio puts the Golden Mind to use, creating Kane to help him get a leg back up in society after his former financial allies, the Tortellini family, kicked him to the curb. When the Polarian War breaks out, Gazpaccio released Kane to the King and Queen of Valencia as a mechanical master of strategy that could halt Napoleguin in his tracks.

There's a funny interaction that happens in the background that nobody is really aware of. Out of the four major Spiral Powers--that being Marleybone, Monquista, Valencia, and Polaris--the lattest is the most magical. It is home to the Auroracle (ancient spirit able to give prophetic messages to those who ask it), the Luphilim (guardians of the Auroracle and other divine sites in the Spiral) , and the majority of Borealis Gemstones (the purest chunks of the First World). I'm of the headcanon that Napoleguin became such a threat to the Spiral Powers because he dared to integrate magic into politics and war. He became essentially a battlemage general, similar to Grand General Spitfire perhaps.

And Kane just so happens to be made of an artifact designed to help one control uncontrollable magic. The Golden Mind's more ancient programming kicks in, giving him the drive to rein in magic. First he establishes the Armada to break Napoleguin's army. Next, he encourages the Valencian royalty to include a term in the post-war peace treaty, that magic shall not be involved in international politics. This treaty later expands to the Armada outlawing all magic.

The Golden Mind's anti-magic programming kicking in also activates another ancient piece of code it has: seeking the other Golden Organs. This is what drives Kane to seek El Dorado, to complete the set. He doesn't know where the other Organs are, but is certain that they, schematics for building them, or clues as to their whereabouts, are in El Dorado. And thus, canon Pirate101 (Arc 1) plays out.

also yea this means that Kane destroying the Golden Heart is stupid and just Does Not Work with this headcanon. I am fully of the belief that the Heart had to be destroyed just so it wouldn't stay an unresolved plotpoint as the writers had to desperately tie the plot up in Valencia Part 2. That isn't to say that Kane in this AU would want to immediately install the Heart. Having a potentially-infinite store of magic without having the tool necessary to channel it (i.e., the Golden Hand) may only cause him difficulties. He would hesitate to install it until he had the Hand.

As for Pirate Arc 1's end, with the Machine taking the Golden Mind and Queen revealing herself to be alive?

That's a story for another time.

#leah speaks :3 #wizard101 #pirate101 #i wrote a thing!#it took a good 2 and a half days just to figure everything out #this long ass post doesn't even mention everything I had to consider timelinewise #it's just everything that i can explain in a sorta linear fashion and is relevant to El Dorado ITSELF #anyway AAAAA this was so hard but so fun to write and solve #i hope y'all like it

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illuminatedquill · 8 months

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Sabine Wren: The Cave (PART ONE)

Story Summary:

Takes place one month after the Ahsoka finale. Sabine Wren, stranded on Peridea after Thrawn's escaspe, continues her Jedi training under the tutelage of her master, Ahsoka Tano.

Troubling visions plague her sleep, leading her to a nearby cave that overflows with Force energy. At her master's suggestion, she ventures inside - leading to a confrontation with the darkness rising within her . . .

(Part One)

"Let me get this straight," said Sabine. "You want me to do what inside the weird, dark cave?"

Her master, Ahsoka Tano, stood across from Sabine, arms crossed in her typical fashion. "I want you to go inside. There's a pool of water hidden near the back. Take off your armor and submerge yourself in it."

Sabine stared at Ahsoka. "Is this a funny way of telling me I smell?"

Ahsoka smiled and shook her head. "No, Sabine. I'm not asking you to take a bath."

The younger woman sniffed. "Okay, good. Because it's the Howlers that stink and we ride them everyday, so even if I did smell it's because of them."

They'd been travelling around with the nomadic Noti, the strange crab like people that Ezra had found shelter with, for about a month now. In the distance, far to the north, a beam of light emanated from a mountain top. Every day they grew a little closer to it- and so did their enemy, Baylan Skoll; Ahsoka could sense his presence.

Even from this distance, the beam of light made Sabine uneasy. The Force felt . . . intense, was the only word she could think of to describe it. Like a mighty waterfall of unfiltered, raw energy that grew louder and louder with each step closer. It pressed against her newfound Force senses, almost a physical pressure in it's own right.

Other than their travels, there wasn't much to do. Sabine continued her training and took turns with her master scouting around the land for any other traces of life.

Mysteriously, the bandits that had attacked Sabine during her first foray on Peridea had vanished. There were signs of their encampment here and there but, otherwise, it was like they had completely vanished.

Sabine had a bad feeling about it. Ahsoka shared the feeling but, for now, it was somewhat of a relief that they didn't have to worry about another attack.

The T-6 shuttle cockpit was silent as Sabine worked through her thoughts. She rubbed at her eyes, feeling suddenly tired despite the day still being young.

She focused through the mental fog. "The weird cave I found was strong in the Force."

Ahsoka was silent, watching her. The Jedi padawan continued, "I've been having bad dreams."

"Force visions, Sabine," corrected her master.

"Visions are supposed to show you something, right?" Sabine snapped back. "All I see are snapshots: fire. Screaming. And - "

She stopped herself, not wanting to say the rest.

Ezra. Falling to a shadowy figure with an orange-red blade.

The image stabbed deep into her heart, like a sliver of ice. Every night, the same dream.

And it just kept digging, deeper and deeper.

She wanted it to stop. Nothing ever before had scared her so much, to where the fear ached in her bones; lined her every breath.

Ahsoka was silent for a moment longer before replying. "The Force is trying to tell you something, Sabine. You're not letting it in."

Annoyance crept into the younger woman's retort. "I thought I had. With Ezra, on top of the Thrawn's fortress! I saved his life."

Her master sighed deeply. "It was an impressive display of strength. But it might have been because Ezra was in danger that you unlocked your potential."

Sabine locked eyes with the older woman. "You're saying I can't do it on my own."

Ahsoka shrugged. "You haven't been able to manifest much since he went home. That is a fact."

It was a bitter truth to swallow, but Sabine acknowledged it. She still struggled with the Force; she could barely lift one of the Noti with her full concentration and that winded her like nothing else.

She hung her head. "It's still so hard. So hard."

Ahsoka knelt beside her and gave a hug. Sabine leaned into it, feeling Ahsoka's care and affection and strength flowing into her through the Force.

"I know it is, Sabine. But you're still fighting. The process may seem slow and arduous, but I promise that you are making progress. It's there. I see it."

The simple acknowledgement and encouragement lifted Sabine's heart.

After soaking it in for a few more moments, Sabine pulled away. "So, you think taking a bath in this cave will help me sleep?"

Ahsoka laughed. "Sure."

The Jedi padawan stood up. "Well, let's get to it. I'll grab some soap and we'll be on our way."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Mid-afternoon, they arrived at the cave.

Sabine had discovered it during one of her earlier scouts; a foreboding sense of gloom and melancholy had tugged at her through the Force. She followed it until the cave appeared, just beyond the crest of a hill.

The opening jutted out of the otherwise barren landscape, like some huge mega-shark breaching the ocean waves to swallow it's prey. The rock was some kind of obsidian, but there was an odd sheen to it that gave a sense that it was almost . . . glowing.

Inside that gaping mouth you could see nothing; it was all shadow.

The Howlers shuffled nervously in front of the mouth, clearly eager to be away from this place.

The two Jedi disembarked and walked to the opening.

Ahsoka gestured forth. "This is where I leave you, my padawan."

Sabine swallowed, a gesture thankfully hidden by her helmet. "You're, uh, not coming with me?"

"This is your journey. You must take it alone."

Great. Off into the spooky cave all by myself.

She missed Ezra terribly in that moment. She always missed him.

I missed you, he said during their battle in Thrawn's fortress. His eyes sparkled when he spoke the words.

Sabine wished she had said it back. That, and so much more.

She felt a tapping on her shoulder and came out of her reverie.

"Huh?"

"I said," Ahsoka replied, "to take only what you need." Her tone was scolding, but there was an undercurrent of amusement in it.

"Okay. And what do I need?"

Ahsoka smiled and said, "Well. What do you think you need?"

Sabine rolled her eyes. "I'm a Mandalorian. I want all the weapons I can get."

"You're not just a Mandalorian, anymore. You are a Jedi."

"Jedi-in-training," Sabine corrected. "But I think I get the point. You want me to leave my weapons behind."

"I don't want you to do anything, Sabine. If you think your blasters and lightsaber are needed for the cave, then go ahead and take them."

"Great!" said Sabine, cheerfully. "Then I'll do just that."

Ahsoka sighed and crossed her arms in annoyance.

Sabine frowned. "I'm sorry, Master. Let's compromise."

The younger woman reached into her pocket and took out a bar of soap.

"I'll leave the soap. Happy?"

The older Jedi aimed a kick at Sabine's leg. She leapt out of the way with a flourish before jogging into the cave's opening.

Just before the darkness overtook her, Sabine took one last look at Ahsoka. Her arms were crossed (of course) and the older Jedi still maintained a smile, yet through the Force she felt her master's worry and . . . something else.

Fear. For her . . . or of her?

Only one way to find out.

She stepped into the shadows.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

She found the pool of water more quickly than she imagined.

The cave's darkness had proved empty - nothing stirred inside except the occasional drip of water from the ceiling above. Her lightsaber was held above, ignited, to ensure that she did not suffer any embarrassing falls on the way.

I am a brave Jedi padawan. I do not fear the darkness. Or rocks that will trip me and cause me to face plant.

Yet that overwhelming sense of gloom and . . . despair still permeated everything. It wasn't an oppressive sense, pushing against her like the strange beacon of light they were approaching.

No. The cave's Force aura felt more like a funeral shroud.

Sabine shivered and stared into the pool.

The water was clear as glass. The pool stretched wide and round, almost like the pools she'd seen in holos of how the Coruscant elite lived in their luxury apartment. Some sort of bioluminescence pulsed within its depths that sparked every now and then . . .

It almost looked like she was staring into the night sky.

Sabine poked a finger into the water. Cool, but not ice cold.

She sat on her haunches, thinking for a moment.

"Well," she muttered. "Better get to it."

She stood up and began to remove her armor. A short minute later, Sabine had on only her undergarments; her boots, blasters, jumpsuit, and Mandalorian armor lay neatly in a folded pile at the pool's edge.

The lightsaber she was still taking, though. The familiar grip of the weapon's hilt gave her a sense of comfort and surety that she sorely needed at the moment.

With a deep breath, Sabine waded into the pool.

Once it got chest deep, she adjusted stance to begin floating on her back.

Time passed as she stared into . . . nothing. She just felt the gentle lapping of the cool water against her body and the comfortable heft of the lightsaber in her hand.

Drowsiness began to overtake her. Sabine felt her eyelids starting to droop . . . began to feel herself starting to sink; she struggled to stay upright, but it was so easy to let go . . .

A voice came to her in the deep

and

dark.

You have gambled the fate of your galaxy on that belief.

It was true. She had. But Ezra had made it home.

Now see the consequences of your gamble. See what you have WROUGHT.

The dreams. The Force visions ripped through her -

she was drowning

Ezra, somewhere, yelling for her. Screaming her name with such anguish -

smoke, choking her lungs, filling it with ash

fire, scorching through city streets with the dead as its tinder

more yelling; orders being issued with the flat, filtered voice of storm-troopers cracking through the air

a screeching whistle - something exploding - but she waves a hand and the rocket is flung away with the Force -

blaster-fire ripping through the air, as she strides through the burning remains of Lothal. The capital city lay in ruins; buildings bombed and turned to rubble, far as the eye can see. Smoke and screams and fire filled the air, turning the sky into a blood-red orange.

The place of Thrawn's last defeat.

He made sure to be thorough this time, she thought.

wait, no, no, this can't be happening, where am I

A squad of stormtroopers awaited her at the encampment. Up ahead lay the governor's residence. Rebels lay entrenched inside, making their last stand against Thrawn's forces. It would take days to lay siege and break their hold.

But not for her. Not with the Force at her disposal.

Captain Enoch snapped to attention at her approach.

"Commander," he acknowledged in his robotic tone.

The warrior nodded to him in reply. "Report."

"The rebels are holding fast against our forces inside the governor's residence. It's built to withstand heavy weaponry and explosions. Our only option is to take it floor by floor, until we reach the top."

"And the governor? He is with them?"

Captain Enoch nodded. "On the top floor. He coordinates the remaining rebel forces."

"I see." She craned her neck skyward, taking it all in.

The governor's residence was in the shape of a needle with a flat oval disk perched on top that contained his personal quarters. She had always found it to be too eloquent for her taste, but the building's surprisingly resilient construction meant that there was only one way in or out.

Calculations formed in her head. The warrior nodded once to herself and set upon her plan.

"Have your men fall back, Captain. I will move to expedite this battle to it's conclusion."

The warrior sensed his confusion. "Is there a problem, Captain?"

"How do you plan on sieging the residence, Commander? By yourself?"

Inside her helmet, a grim smile formed.

"There will be no siege, Captain. Have your men stand back and wait for my signal."

Enoch saluted and issued the orders to his men. Without moments they dispersed.

Once they were far enough away, she began to reach out through the Force.

Mine. It will be mine. I will bring him to me.

She reached out, feeling the flat oval disk on top of the governor's residence. The presences inside were angry, scared, but still focused. She could hear Governor Azadi, passing along encouragement and still hammering away orders to what was left of the Lothal rebellion.

And, through the Force, she began to push down. Down on top of the governor's residence.

Metal screamed in protest - she found herself screaming, too, with the strain - and then began to buckle.

And governor's residence began to fall, being pushed down by the Force. The oval disk crushed the tower holding it aloft as it fell - and all the rebels who lay within it, caught unawares.

It landed with an explosion of dust and debris. She held out a hand; most of the rubble landed away from her, but the odd pebble still dinged on her armor.

For a moment, silence ruled. She studied her work, breathing hard from the exertion before reaching out -

Yes. The governor was still alive.

Impressive, old man.

Captain Enoch reached out on her comm link. "Your orders, Commander?"

Studying the rubble, she spotted some shapes moving through the fog. They were in no shape to fight, though.

"Sweep the wreckage and eliminate the survivors. But leave Governor Azadi to me."

The lightsaber ignited in the warrior's hand with it's customary snap-hiss. She walked forward into the remains, searching. Behind her, Captain Enoch and his men worked with ruthless efficiency to wipe out the remaining survivors; the occasional muffled scream silenced by the retort of a blaster bolt.

At last, she finally found him. Her quarry.

Legs trapped beneath a large section of shattered ceiling, Governor Azadi stared at her. Through the Force, she felt anger, righteous and bright, but no sense of despair; a sense of resignation that recognized that this was his End.

The warrior peered down at him, the light of her blade laying bare all his wounds and just how . . . old he looked. Battered, broken - it was hard to believe that she once looked up to this sad old man.

"It's you," he managed to get out through teeth gritted in pain. "It's really you."

He sounds so sad, she thought. But not for himself.

"Governor Azadi," she said. "Where are the Jedi?"

"I didn't want to believe it when he said. It couldn't be. Not you."

She said nothing. A twitch of her fingers, and the broken ceiling shifted.

Azadi yelled out in pain. She knelt down, this time holding the lightsaber closer to his neck.

"I can make this quick, Governor. Or I can make this last for what's left of your life. It's your choice."

The old man spat at her.

She twitched her fingers again. The rubble shifted. Azadi screamed, but his eyes never left her face.

"Traitor!" he cried out. "I will never kneel to the Empire! Never again!"

The warrior felt her patience run out and grabbed at his shirt. "Where are the Jedi? Where are Ahsoka Tano and Ezra Bridger?"

At last, that garnered a reaction. "Far from your master's gaze. You'll never find out."

Fury blossomed in her chest, burning throughout her body. She drew on the Force again and pulled him out of the wreckage.

He screamed as she dragged him, the ruin of his legs dragging limply behind. Finally, she stopped and faced him properly to the ruins of his residence.

"You see the wreckage, Governor? The remains of your once opulent house? You see the fire, smell the choking smoke, hear the screams of your people?"

Azadi let out a half-choked cry. At last, she felt the anguish begin to spread within him.

"We offered you peace. Your people lie in ruins, suffering or dead, all because you could not place your duty over your personal feelings! Because you were weak! Because you were selfish!"

She lifted him up, the Force holding him several feet off the ground.

"Do you feel the heat from the fire as it burns the life out of your planet, Governor? I hope so. It will be the last warmth you feel in this lifetime."

She pointed the hilt of her lightsaber at the old man's chest.

Before pressing the trigger, she heard him whisper. What she'd been waiting for, so, so desperately.

"He's waiting for you in his watchtower."

And then, he looked at her. So sad.

For her.

"It's still not too late. He can help you."

She needed nothing else. Wanted to hear nothing else; his pity gouged out a hole in her chest and it howled that she repay the wound his words dealt with the same.

The lightsaber ignited. Azadi sighed as the blade pierced his chest.

no, no, no, no STOP

His last words: "I'm sorry, Sabine."

Something wet streamed down her cheeks inside the helmet at his words. The warrior ignored it.

Moments passed in frozen glass. In the hell-scape of the fallen city, the warrior had a moment to reflect on the crumpled body of the former Governor.

Her gaze moved to outside the city; past the fires and battles raging. To where she knew Ezra's watchtower was located.

I should have guessed you'd be there, Ezra.

Captain Enoch stepped up to her and asked, "What are your orders, Commander?"

Sabine - the warrior - did not reply. But her lightsaber ignited once more, the snap-hiss producing the orange red blade dragging on the ground behind her: a single, sizzling red line that followed as she walked.

Towards home. For the last time.

(TO BE CONTINUED IN PART TWO)

#sabine wren #ezra bridger #sabezra #ezrabine #star wars #star wars rebels #ahsoka #my fic #fanfic #ahsoka show

41 notes · View notes

fazfacts · 4 months

Text

HOT DAGA SENTENCE STARTERS

it's actually criminal that nobody has done this before. feel free to change as needed!

❝ If you don't like it, you can kiss my buns. ❞

❝ Oh, he looks all pissed off 'cause his hat's still gone. ❞

❝ Good, I'm glad he's pissed. ❞

❝ I hope he crashes into that wall. ❞

❝ Oh shit, he crashed! ❞

❝ Wow! They look like a happy couple. ❞

❝ She's not happy with his driving, I'll tell you that. ❞

❝ Oh, he's on fire, he looks like he's hurting. ❞

❝ What a horrible occurrence that just happened! ❞

❝ What the fuck? ❞

❝ He's gonna come back like Michael Myers. ❞

❝ I can't really tell what it is, but it went by real quick. ❞

❝ Why did you run from me? ❞

❝ I...I didn't know how to tell you, but...we have a son now. ❞

❝ Wait -- I'm so confused... ❞

❝ Hello, [name]. I'm your father, [name]. ❞

❝ Why did you try to shoot me and leave me for dead? ❞

❝ That wasn't me. ❞

❝ It's me, [name], your evil twin sister. ❞

❝ I won't have you two together. You know I love [name]. ❞

❝ Now it's time to die. Mount your crab. ❞

❝ [Name], step aside! ❞

❝ Do you remember where we were? ❞

❝ Who are you? ❞

❝ Nice to meet you. I love you. ❞

❝ Promise you'll never shoot me, [name]. ❞

❝ Let's cover ourselves in mustard and get craaazy! ❞

❝ I hope you never get eaten on the Fourth of July like my parents. ❞

❝ Your words are making me happy, so I am smiling. ❞

❝ Always love each other, no matter where your paths take you. ❞

❝ We are siblings, but also best friends. ❞

❝ Why would we ever fight? ❞

❝ I have seen it in my special dreams. ❞

❝ Let's go eat the rest of Amelia Earheart for dinner. ❞

❝ My funding...my precious funding... ❞

❝ It's all over now. I suppose I'll let myself rot. ❞

❝ I'm in urgent need of your services. ❞

❝ What a shame...I was so close. ❞

❝ That's a good hashtag. ❞

❝ Like my dear old dad used to say, there's no free condiments in life. ❞

❝ Most condiments are free, actually. ❞

❝ How dare you! ❞

❝ Please, respect my father. May he rest in peace. ❞

❝ This talk of your father seems very shoehorned into this conversation. ❞

❝ I'm your son! From the future! ❞

❝ Hoooly shiiit. ❞

❝ Why did you do it, [name]? Why'd you do any of this? ❞

❝ Because, [name], I'm straight-up evil. ❞

❝ That's bad for the fabric of reality and space-time, I think. ❞

❝ Okay, it's technically not murder or anything. ❞

❝ This is what you get. This is the law of the wild. ❞

❝ I can't bear to watch this inevitable carnage. ❞

❝ I just want a picture of this moment. ❞

❝ I need your help to avenge my death. ❞

❝ We're a family again! A real family! ❞

❝ That's a terrible name. ❞

❝ I'm pretty sure this is a trap... ❞

❝ A crow ate one of my eyes at the bank last Labor Day, by the way. That's why I have an eyepatch now. ❞

❝ Did it ever occur to you, [name], that I loved you and your mustache? Well, I don't anymore, and I see you've shaved your mustache, you idiot. ❞

❝ The day we broke up was the best day of my life. ❞

❝ I saw him do a magic trick once where he sat on his own lap. ❞

❝ I'm suddenly afraid my wife will leave me for him, but he's a nice guy, so that's okay. ❞

❝ Wait a minute, you weren't invited! ❞

❝ It's me, [name], and I'd like to welcome you to Hell. Time to die! ❞

❝ I am displeased! But that does sound narratively rich. ❞

❝ Will you press pause on your shit for five minutes? ❞

❝ I now have to imagine a thing I don't want to imagine, under any circumstance? ❞

❝ Are you proud of yourself? ❞

❝ But I cannot attempt to process that at the moment, for the fear of the emotional toll it would take on me. ❞

❝ How'd we survive? ❞

❝ Ooh, what a plot! ❞

❝ We could go back in time to stop it all. ❞

❝ No need to explain that, we'll remember it always. ❞

❝ Thank you for your service. ❞

❝ Enough talky-time, more spacey-time, idiots. ❞

❝ We threw them into a volcano. They're gone. ❞

❝ I don't negotiate with assholes. ❞

❝ I can't believe it -- I'm alive! ❞

❝ Oh, no, no, hey, c'mon. Nothin' to worry about here. ❞

❝ That doesn't make any sense. ❞

❝ My parents were very juicy and I am, too. ❞

❝ You...don't seem trustworthy. ❞

❝ Oh, I'm plenty trustworthy. ❞

❝ So what's your deal again? ❞

❝ Hm. Makes sense if you actually track the story, probably. ❞

❝ I wonder if Earth's tasty. ❞

❝ I'm not one for decision-making. ❞

❝ I'm both the mayor and the sheriff. ❞

❝ Don't worry, you will soon go to jail. ❞

❝ I want to get perfectly sane, haha. ❞

❝ You're getting more and more sane by the day! ❞

❝ Everyone's dying and the world is basically over. ❞

❝ Sometimes your life don't go exactly as you planned. ❞

❝ The fact that I doubted myself for even a split second is some military-grade bullshit. ❞

❝ It's me, [name], and I'm pissed. ❞

❝ I can't die, I'm beloved! ❞

❝ Question: what the hell's going on? ❞

❝ If you do anything dumb, I will kill you with my hat. ❞

❝ You didn't need to do that, by the way. That's cruel. You understand that? ❞

❝ I didn't ask to exist. In fact, I was very content not being. ❞

❝ Look, I'm sorry about doing you dirty. ❞

❝ We've got some things to discuss, you and me. ❞

❝ Ohhh, okay. We're both dead, then. This is for sure a place where we're both dead. ❞

❝ My last memory was me putting a goldfish in my mouth to make my children laugh. Then I choked to death. ❞

❝ Play shitty games, win shitty prizes, [name]. ❞

❝ I was so consumed with hate and anger that I lost sight of who I was. ❞

❝ Are you just, like, checked out of this conversation now? ❞

❝ I'm just a guy in a void. ❞

❝ I got murked and it chilled me out. ❞

❝ That's my catchphrase, now that I'm fun. ❞

❝ Tell you what, I hate this planet. ❞

❝ There's a small part of my funky, no-good heart that's like, "hell yeah." ❞

❝ Hey, you want some money? It's got my face on it. ❞

❝ The one thing I've always said is, "you can definitely trust someone who repeatedly insists that you can trust them," you idiot. ❞

❝ I'm the queen of deception and straight-up dirty tricks. ❞

❝ Game recognize game, however inferior. ❞

❝ I've just had a tremendously confusing dream. ❞

❝ I'm not in the habit of taking drinks from strangers. ❞

❝ But I'm beloved... ❞

❝ I. Don't. Caaare. ❞

❝ It's almost Friday, the day for kissing! ❞

❝ If you value your life, you might consider staying out of mine. ❞

❝ Is there any way we can put this all behind us? ❞

❝ Are you fucking kidding me? You shouldn't have asked that question. ❞

❝ Oh, thank God. I was about to flip my shit. ❞

❝ Full disclosure, no offense: you seem nuts. ❞

❝ My mind is so clever, some describe me as a God. ❞

❝ My name is [name], and I'm here to say: you'll soon straight-up die today. ❞

❝ I'm perfectly sane, so now it's time to play my funny little game. ❞

❝ Where'd you go to college? Detective school? ❞

❝ I'm gonna save your life for my own benefit. ❞

❝ I have no beef with you. You're clearly dealing with some stuff. ❞

❝ Don't worry, I will murder you. ❞

❝ I feel like you're not being receptive to literally any of my shit. ❞

❝ I was hypnotized for many, many years and frankly, I'm not too happy about it. ❞

❝ Well, you can't blame me for that. I'm dead. ❞

❝ I think you could maybe choose not to be complicit in the destruction of the universe. ❞

❝ Jesus Christ, take a breath. ❞

❝ If you don't stop this instant, I'm gonna hug you. ❞

❝ I feel like a happy sunshine person who always wins. ❞

❝ I feel as critically-acclaimed as I always do! ❞

❝ You should know by now, nothing exciting ever happens around here. ❞

❝ Hey, you ever think about what happens after we die? ❞

❝ Sorry for my dad being a dick all the time...and for following his orders without question. ❞

❝ I hate you and I'm glad you look all fucked-up! ❞

❝ Namaste or whatever. ❞

❝ I just wanna chill 'til I'm dead. ❞

❝ Whoa, okay. I think I'm gonna die. ❞

❝ Those were the bad guys! Why were you, like, chilling with them? ❞

❝ Man, you really pooped the bed on this one. ❞

❝ Okay, your tone is appropriate and I apologize. ❞

❝ I will miss you, [name], the biggest baller of them all. ❞

❝ I'd actually be double-dead, which is the worst kind of dead. ❞

❝ What can one do in the face of such monumental loss but breathe a weary sigh, for the world is a little quieter now. ❞

❝ Sometimes your death don't go exactly how you planned. ❞

❝ I tried the best I can, but I ain't got the stuff. ❞

❝ Frankly, life's been pretty dope. ❞

❝ I know life's been crazy, but believe me, you'll be fine without me here. ❞

❝ There's really no need to cry. ❞

❝ I know things seem kind of shitty and that the odds aren't looking pretty, but what's the point of quitting now? ❞

❝ I won't be here to see it, but you bet your ass that I believe that you'll still save the day somehow. ❞

❝ If I had a fuckin' bucket, then I got a hunch I'd kick it. ❞

❝ Sorry for the cursing, but I'm feeling worse and worse. ❞

❝ I don't wanna die, but I'm probably gonna die. ❞

❝ I'm dying now, just so we're clear. ❞

❝ Holy shit, this is it, I'm gonna die. ❞

❝ I'll see you later, pals, I'm outta here. ❞

#buzzfeed unsolved hot daga #hot daga #hot daga rp #hot daga starters #sentence starters #rp prompts #rp memes

20 notes · View notes

brayneworms · 11 months

Text

fearful, wonderful.

featuring. scaramouche.

tags. kabukimono!scaramouche, trans!scaramouche, yokai!reader, gender-neutral reader, slowburn, general allusions to war and death, yokai lore/imagery.

word count. 4.09k

notes. MINORS DNI

synopsis. the both of you are missing pieces. you will never be human. you will be more human than anything that came before you.

masterlist. prev. next. ao3.

I. EVEN THE IRON STILL FEARS THE ROT.

There are spirits that live in your eyes.

They live, they dance, they die, all in the confines of your sclera. Sometimes when you blink, you see them imprinted even in your mind. Some of them are your friends, some your enemies. It doesn’t matter at the end of the day. They live and they dance and they die all the same. You watch decades go by in a blink. You watch a flower sprout and bloom and die before you can even think to pluck it. Beauty is something that escapes you, the longer the years go on. The stars blur together in silver streaks across the sky, unending glistening tubers counting the years of your misery.

You find something like solace in Tatarasuna. Your village nests itself at the bedrock of a cluster of mountains that jut up against the Inazuman horizon. You’ve lived through the war, now you reach peace. Peace is a house with a red door and a lavender-melon tree outside. Peace is a community of humans who are all kinder and more well-meaning people than you. Peace is the children that play in the flowery meadows, the elderly women who hang their wet linens on the wires outside their homes, the men who chop wood and manhandle iron.

Peace is laying down to sleep on your futon every night with the knowledge of all your days spent, and all the ones yet to come. Peace is dreaming of friends long dead and mistaking for a moment that they will be there to greet you when you wake, only to open your eyes to an empty room, a cold hearth. You keep your teacups out of the cupboard, hanging from little wire hooks protruding from the sugi wood. They’re seto, hardly finely crafted, but you think built with heart. That is something humans are good at. Building with heart. They stir love into their creations.

You have never known yōkai to do the same.

You make tea in the evening. The sun crests over the purple sky, dips behind the mountains, shading your village in fiery light. You look out of the window of your kitchen; the glass has become cloudy over time, built up with moss and condensation piling between the panes, but you can see out, far out, across the lavender field. Two children play there, throwing a ball made of cloth back and forward. As your water starts to boil over the fire, their mother wanders out, takes them both by the wrist and hauls them back inside whilst they cry and whine.

There is something so human in that, you think. They know the meadow will be here tomorrow, that the moths will not consume their cloth ball in the night. And yet they cry. It is so human to want everything to linger in the here and now.

They have no sense of future or past. They seek beauty in its extremity, hunt for it under every corner, drink it like lifeblood.

You’re beginning to see the appeal, the longer you stay.

Your tea is earthy. It’s made from dendrobium.

You drink it outside in the dying light, and it looks like blood, and it feels like home on your lips.

You find Katsuragi one evening on Nazuchi beach. You know that he sometimes takes off his shoes and walks along the foamy shore, looking for crabs or turtles that have wandered into water too shallow and tossing them back to the tide.

Katsuragi is a softhearted man. He slants his hand against the sun to see you properly as you approach. Your footsteps sink deeply into the purplish sand—further than they should, for someone of your size. It is one of the many things about you that you’ve learned unnerve the humans.

You slide your geta off your feet as you approach the shoreline, hold them by the woollen band between two fingers. Katsuragi bends down and observes a jellyfish trapped in a rock pool.

“Don’t touch that,” you tell him as he reaches. “They sting.”

“Do they?” He looks surprised. “I’ve never been stung.”

You shrug. “Maybe they sense your kind intentions.”

“Ah, well, I’m absolutely brimming with those.” Katsuragi grins, then leans down again. You tap his wrists sharply.

“Let me,” you mutter. “I don’t feel it.”

“Of course. I forget.”

You don’t know if that’s the truth. Most of Taratsuna knows that you’re a yōkai, even if only because you’ve lived in the same place for around a hundred years and not aged a day. They have no clue how long you’ve lived before that, though. And they never will.

You cup the water beneath the jellyfish with two hands. It squirms in your grip as you lift it into the air; its feelers wrap over your arm like pale ribbons; its body is soft and rubbery and achingly vulnerable in your hands. You wonder if it knows that its attempts to sting you are in vain. You wonder if all things hurt the people trying to help them, only because they don’t know aid from sabotage.

It slips from your hands back into the water and disappears beneath the surface.

“Thank you,” Katsuragi says earnestly. “You’re a good soul, Y/n.”

You don’t tell Katsuragi that there is a large part of you that doesn’t come alive unless you are hurting or being hurt.

“I’m not,” you say instead. “I’m tsukumogami. I have no soul.”

“Jellyfish have no brains,” Katsuragi shrugs. “But we care for them all the same, don’t we?”

One night—the night that everything changes—sleep escapes you.

Every time you close your eyes you see war. You are seto-taishō, and so it is all that you know. Rain pours down from the black sky in sheets, collects in the mossy gutters and pools on rooftops. The lavender meadow by your house will flood at this rate. You think of all those flowers coming loose from the topsoil like a hundred thousand frail purple corpses, awash downstream.

You keep a collection of scrolls tucked away inside a dresser drawer; they tell stories of your life, your past, your friends. All of it long gone and dead, yet their pictures remain. You unroll them tonight, loosening the velvet ribbons that catch them fast, lay out the worn parchment over your dining table. You run your fingers over the cracked and faded paint. What will you have left of them when even these scrolls return to dust? Your own memories? What a sick joke.

Their screams echo in your ears; you feel your skin press tight over your bones, like your heart is too big for your body, and you press your knuckles to your mouth to stifle a scream. Tatarasuna is good. The people here are good. You are not, and it is why you will never belong.

It is why you will never integrate yourself with them, because they are only humans, and their lives pass you by in a blink. You have loved and hated an uncountable number of humans, and they live and die just the same, and it hurts so badly that it’s all you can do to shut it all out. You’ve learned that it’s easy to become entranced with humanity, and their kindness, and their hope and resilience—but it is just as easy to become revolted with it. With their fleeting lives and their selfishness and their hypocrisy.

At first you think you hallucinate the knock at your door. It’s pitch black outside and howling a gale; lightning forks down from the sky habitually, blazing the landscape violet for a split second before it dissipates back into darkness. But then it comes again—more frantic, more urgent, and you set your scrolls to the side with a mounting feeling of suspicion.

You think about hunting for your weapons. It seems you truly cannot escape your nature, or you would have burned the things years ago. As it is, they lay stashed and growing dust under your wardrobe. In lieu of arming yourself to the teeth, you slip a delicate half-dagger into your sock as you approach to the door. You press your ear to the wood, hearing nothing for a moment but the dull roar of the storm outside.

And then another knock.

You crack the door open. A curtain of cold wind whips inside, making your lit hearth sputter and protest and choke out a plume of black smoke.

And Katsuragi says, “Hear me out.”

Your brow furrows. A crack of violet lightning splits the sky, and you see them. A figure so much smaller than Katsuragi that they were almost swallowed entirely. Head bent against the lashing rain, small and slender against Katsuragi’s thick corded-muscle arms. You blink, looking from the nameless figure back to Katsuragi. He lifts his eyebrows, beseeching.

Slowly, you open the door. Katsuragi sags with relief and steps over the threshold, and it's only as the both of them pass over it that you notice they’re holding hands. The sight of it looks bizarre. The figure behind him moves with both easy grace and childish uncertainty. Their lithe, pale fingers curl around Katsuragi’s fist.

“Thank you,” Katsuragi pants, swiping his dripping wet hair from his forehead. You close the door silently behind him, culling the howling gale. “You don’t know what this means. I barely do.”

“Explain,” you say quietly, eyes flickering from the man you recognise to the figure you do not. They stand quite still in the middle of your living room, dripping water onto the tatami flooring.

“Yes,” Katsuragi says, then promptly gets distracted. “Hey there, don’t stand so close to the fire,” he chides, seizing the figure by their wrist and pulling. “You’ll get burnt. Or your robes will set alight.”

They go without question, stumbling where Katsuragi’s gentle pull guides them. The longer you look at this figure in your living room, the more your hair is standing on end. “Katsuragi?”

“Yes. Sorry.” He hesitates, then jerks his head. You follow him into the hallway and he slides the door shut behind you; the figure in your living room watches, unblinking, until the very moment the door touches the frame. Wide blue eyes, like ice shimmering on a winter lake. “I found him at Shakkei Pavilion. Just wandering around. He had this on him.”

Katsuragi hands you something. Your eyes widen as your eyes come to focus on it—an elegant golden feather, unmistakable.

“Hung around his neck,” Katsuragi says lowly. “It’s a mark of the archons.”

“The Shogun?” you mutter, turning your head back to the closed door in disbelief.

“I see the resemblance alright,” Katsuragi says. “It’s strange. I don’t think he’s quite… human.”

Your spine stiffens. “What do you mean? He’s… yōkai?”

“No, not quite,” Katsuragi winces, looking awkward. “But… we walked in that rain for nearly an hour. I’m about to catch my death from the cold, and he was just… standing there like he didn’t even feel it. I don’t even think he was breathing.”

“I’ve never heard of anything quite like that,” you admit. “But… why bring him to me?”

Katsuragi bites his lip. “I can’t… in good conscience cast him aside,” he says quietly. “By the looks of things, he’s been abandoned once already. The—the look in his eyes, when he realised I was trying to take him with me… almost like he’d never even conceived of it before. But I also—I don’t have the time to look over him all day, not with my job. And yet… he hungers for it, I can tell. To be a part of something.”

“Is that so?” you say archly. “And how can you tell?”

Katsuragi’s eyes soften. “I see it on your own face often enough.”

Your jaw clenches. “Losing your sight in your old age, I see,” you spit. “Or maybe you’ve taken one too many hits to the head.”

A breathless chuckle. “But, see… I think him finding a place in this village will be good for him. I’ll pay a visit to my friend Niwa in the morning—he taught my niece to read and write, you know? He could learn to be a real person.”

You almost ask, why do you care so much? And then you remember that this is Katsuragi. Katsuragi who wanders the shores in his spare hours, finding sea animals who had wandered too close to land. All Katsuragi did was look out for lost souls. He collects them—things without brains. Things without souls. You cast a glance at the shut door again, picturing the figure behind it.

Things without hearts.

“So you want me to… what?” You look at Katsuragi in disbelief. “I’m not the one to raise him, Katsuragi.”

He shrugs. “He’s not a child. He is ignorant of the world, sure, but he seems to have lived much of it already. You wouldn’t be a parent. You’d be a friend.”

“A friend?” you repeat with derision. “I’m hardly fit to be anyone’s friend.”

“Well, I’m hurt.” Katsuragi grins. “All this time, I thought we were buds.”

“You’re hilarious,” you say acidly. “Be serious. Let Niwa house him. Do it yourself, if you care so much.”

“I can’t,” he begs. “Nobody else can. Don’t you see?”

And suddenly you do. You are the only one suited to look over him, because of one very specific thing you both have in common. You are not human. And neither is he.

“You don’t want him to be alone,” you say quietly. Katsuragi looks at you helplessly. “I think you’re making a mistake, entrusting him to me.”

Katsuragi gives you a crooked smile. “Who says I’m not entrusting you to him?”

The thing—boy?—has moved a little from where you both left him when you shut the door. His back was to you, and he was stooped slightly over your dresser, examining the small collections of kitchenware you had stored carelessly upon there.

“What are you doing?” you snap, striding over. The puppet doesn’t flinch, exactly, but his body sort of locks up in surprise, and he turns those wide indigo eyes over to you with the sort of innocence you’d once thought only small children or animals possessed. The seto cup in his hand trembles.

“I was… just looking,” he says tremulously.

“You’re touching,” you grit out. “Touching isn’t looking.”

The puppet looks down at the cup in his hands, and then he slowly sets it down on the dresser. His features—somehow soft and pointed at the same time—are taut with faint confusion. “Is it valuable?”

“To me, yes.” You snatch the cup up and hang it back on its hook. The puppet’s eyes follow you, hopelessly confused. You sort of feel like you’re pointing a crossbow at a deer that’s never been hunted before.

“Easy, now,” Katsuragi intervenes—he raises his hands as though about to place them placatingly on your shoulders, but the venomous look you shoot him cowes him. He rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck, instead. “He didn’t know, okay?”

You bite your lip, staying schtum. The puppet looks from you to Katsuragi uncertainly. The silence swells.

Finally, Katsuragi stoops down to talk to the puppet. “So… you’re going to be staying here for a while, okay? At least until we figure out what more we can do.”

The puppet’s lashes flicker in surprise. “Will I see you again?”

“Of course,” Katsuragi says warmly. “I’ll stop by all the time. I just don’t have the time to house you with me at the moment, okay?”

“I’m not going back to the Pavilion?” the puppet asks quietly. “I… get to stay?”

Katsuragi raises his eyes and looks at you beseechingly.

This is a terrible idea.

You’re going to ruin this poor puppet’s life.

You throw up your hands in exasperation and nod.

As Katsuragi says his goodbyes, you go to the closet and pull out a spare futon and some blankets. There’s a spare room, but it’s about the size of a large cupboard and currently is used to store your old armour and weapons. The puppet will have to share your room. You unroll the futon in the furthest corner from your own bed, right under the window. Muted strips of moonlight fall over the sheets, stifled by the rainfall.

When you wander back into the living room, Katsuragi is preparing to leave. You hesitate.

“Don’t want to dry off before you go?”

He shakes his head with a demure smile. “Not much point. I’ll get soaked either way.” He walks over to you with his dark eyes soft and open. “Thank you for this. I’m grateful.” His voice drops. “So is he.”

You don’t voice any of the things that rise to your lips instinctively. This is a mistake. I’ll mess this up. I’ll mess him up.

I can’t teach life. All I know is death.

Instead, you shrug. “Whatever.”

With another pat on the puppet’s head, Katsuragi departs. The puppet’s eyes follow him warily before turning to you. The expression on his face is expectant, like he’s waiting for you to tell him what to do.

You cast an awkward look around. “Are you… cold?”

The puppet blinks. “I don’t think so.” He looks down at his soaked clothes as though they don’t even belong to him. “That’s rain outside, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

The puppet looks thoughtful. “I heard it often, in the Pavillion. I always wondered what it looked like. What it felt like. But I couldn’t feel much of it.”

“Right.” You shift awkwardly. “Well… you should change into some dry clothes, at least.”

The puppet blinks. Tilts his head curiously. “Why?”

“Just… you know.” Your tongue feels too big and awkward for your mouth, and you have to bite back an irritated huff. “It’ll feel better.”

The puppet still looks confused, but he only bites his lip this time instead of answering. The skin there, caught between his teeth, is smooth and unmarred. The clothing in question is, indeed, so wet that it’s sticking to him. The plain, unembellished karaginu is practically translucent against his fair skin, his dark katsugi veil clinging to his long, dark hair. And what hair—it cascades like a dark waterfall down to his waist, stringy with rainwater, framing a thin, pale face.

He looks like a woman, in this light. Pretty enough to be one, you suppose. The feminine clothing and hair weren’t helping.

You rummage in your cupboards for a spare jinbei, hands curling over soft eggshell cotton. When you press them into his arms, he looks hopelessly confused, and you heave a sigh.

“Undress yourself, and put these on,” you tell him. “Your bed is in that room, under the window.”

You turn your back, wandering into the kitchen to make tea. You take a cup—not your seto ones, they never get used for something as prosaic as teamaking—and spoon dried curdled leaves into it, light a fire under a pot of water. It bubbles happily away as the flame catches and sputters in earnest.

You look over your shoulder, intending to ask the puppet if he would like something to drink also (do puppets need to drink? Do they need to eat?) but your voice dies in your throat. His veil lies in a wet pile of diaphanous lilac silk at his feet. He has struggled halfway out of his karaginu, the top half pooling limply at his waist as he works at his belt.

“W-what are you doing?!”

The puppet’s head snaps up at your near-shout, eyes wide. His fingers fumble at his waist, and the sharp jut of his shoulder blades and spine contort as he whirls around to stare at you.

“Don’t change here,” you tell him incredulously. “Go into the bathroom or the bedroom.”

The puppet looks utterly bewildered and a little hurt. “What? W-why?”

“For privacy.” You take a deep breath through your teeth. He lived alone in a domain for Archons-know how long. Of course he would be unaccustomed to the concept of shame. Maybe it’s not right for you to introduce him to it—but you can’t pretend the sight of his bare torso doesn’t rattle you in all the wrong ways. Strange markings carve into his skin at the elbows and shoulders. They look like weird shadows, but you don’t keep your eyes on them long enough to gauge their meaning. All you see is an expanse of smooth, unmarred skin.

“I don’t understand,” the puppet says quietly. “Is my body offensive?”

“It’s not that,” you get out through gritted teeth, eyes glued to the wall. “It’s just… decent. Please go and change somewhere else.”

There’s a pause—and then you hear a quiet rustle of shifting clothing. Silently, the puppet picks up his sleepwear and treads down the hallway to the bathroom. The door slides shut with a sound like a sigh behind him.

You turn back to your tea, trying not to feel guilty. The water in the pot froths and spits now, starting to bubble over the cast-iron rim. You wonder if you hurt the puppet’s feelings. You wonder if he has any feelings to hurt.

Things without souls. Things without hearts.

What a pair we make.

Katsuragi’s trust in you feels like a sick joke.

You pour the tea, and whilst it cools, walk over to where the puppet was changing. He left his veil in a sodden pile on the floor, so you pick it up and hang it on one of the coat hanger hooks. It drips sullenly and relentlessly, a steady dull tapping against the tatami flooring. You cast a glance at the closed door, the one the puppet undresses behind.

Aid and sabotage.

Maybe it’s you who doesn’t know the difference.

After another ten minutes, the door slides open in a soft rush. The puppet pokes his head around the frame. “Am I wearing it right?”

The shirt is backwards, and when you tell him so a frustrated furrow carves itself between his brows. He wriggles his arms back out of the holes and twists the fabric around his torso—and then he looks up at you, and you think that if he had the capacity to breathe his breath would be bated. He looks as though his every happiness clings to you telling him he’s finally done something right. His eyes are impossibly big, like night-blooming lilies, begging for your blessing.

He doesn’t yet know that you are unfit to give it.

You nod tersely, drain the last of your tea. “Give me your wet clothes,” you tell him. “I’ll hang them up to dry.”

He scrambles to obey, shoving the damp pile of fabric at you with haste. He watches you hang them up like it’s the most captivating thing in the world, rosebud lips parted in awe.

When you show him his futon, his eyes gleam. He sets his body down gingerly, spreads his palm over the sheets. Feeling the fabric to an almost obsessive degree, clenching his fists so the white cotton bleeds between his fingers, rubbing his cheek against the pillow like a cat. As you settle into your own bed, staring emptily up at the ceiling, you hear him shift, a rustle as he sits up.

“Why didn’t Katsuragi want me?” he asks.

“He didn’t have time for you,” you answer. “He works a lot.”

There is a short pause as the puppet processes this. “Why did you want me?”

“I didn’t,” you grit out. “But I have you now.”

There is quiet, broken only by the endless rush of rain outside. Then the puppet sighs, long and deep and mournful.

“I might have known.” His words seep into the darkness, a million miles from the neutral, curious tone you’ve heard so far. His voice sounds hoarse and much older, suddenly, weighed down with a hundred years of pain. “Nobody ever really wants me.”

With that, he turns on his side, pulling the blankets up over his head.

You don’t know if he sleeps. You certainly don’t.

When you close your eyes after a few hours, you see spirits. They dance and they live and they die. The smell of blood wakes you up. As usual, when you bolt upright, gasping for breath, they are not there.

Someone is, though. For the first time in you don’t even know how long, someone is.

The knowledge of that soothes you back to sleep.

#🫀.scribes #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #kabukimono x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin impact oneshot #scaramouche oneshot #wanderer oneshot #genshin impact x you #scaramouche x you #kabukimono x you #wanderer x you

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thisisnotthenerd · 5 months

Text

Happy New Year @shakespearestolemyurl !! I have the other half of your 2023 @d20exchange gift: Songs of the Celestine verses for the Bad Kids!

Group Verses

On occasion, an adventuring party will receive a set of verses that encompasses the group as a whole—these verses are sung together as opposed to individually. Often, these are written by a bard within the group, taking the form to detail the exploits of their own adventuring party.

This set of written verses regards the Solesian adventuring party known as the Bad Kids, who defeated Kalvaxus and the Nightmare King during their first two years at the Aguefort Adventuring Academy. The author of these verses is technically unknown, but it is believed that Fabian Seacaster, during his early bardic education, composed these verses for his friends using the form learned from his pirate father, William Seacaster, after he joined the College of Swords during the Bad Kids' quest to retrieve the Crown of the Nightmare King. 1

______________________________

Adaine Abernant-O’Shaughnessy:

A wizard born

To endless scorn

Who chose the face the fighting storm

Upon her word

That she has sworn

The elven oracle

She’s stolen books

And taken looks

At futures she has now forsook

From tiny nooks

She found the hooks

Now categorical

With arcane hands

She made her stand

A mage come far from foreign lands

And as she scanned

She made her plans

And broke her manacles

For now she is

Second to none

The oracle for everyone

And free at last

She’ll have her fun

Adaine the oracle

______________________________

Kristen Applebees:

The cleric chosen

For devotion

Her heart in ever-changing motion

Questions Couldn’t

Remain unspoken

The Prophet now come free

So determined she

Can’t be deterred

She tried to fly with a Ribbon dancer

Oh she stands sure

Even though her

Dex is negative three

From Helio

To Yes? Or no

She understands what can’t be known

In philosophy

She seeks to grow

Cassandra’s only priest

A cleric’s light

Within the night

Guides darkened paths with clear sight

She walks alight

And fears no fright

Saint Kristen Applebees

______________________________

Figueroth Faeth:

The rebel bard

Cannot be charred

Flamboyant in her disregard

With warlock spells

She will safeguard

Fig the InFaethable

She changes face

In every space

And plays with skill electric bass

She’ll catch your soul

And take your place

While playing rock’n’roll

She gave request

For Aguefort’s best

But something she could not have guessed

Was to the west

And in her nest

Writing wizard’s scrolls

She’ll drink some gin

No fear of sin

Her secrets kept behind her grin

But when you’re friends

She’ll let you in

Fig the InFaethable

______________________________

Gorgug Thistlespring:

Barbarian bound

To hear the sound

Of metal music all around

He oft confounds

And breaks the ground

Gorgug Thistlespring

He looked for meaning

In the gloam

For heritage to call him home

Child of orc

And man and gnome

he is now the crab king

He fuels with fear

an endless rage

He came from deathly forest aged

Who is his dad

He cannot gauge

Insight is not his thing

He wields his axe

And hammer too

He’ll call across the world to you

He fixed his phone

Made sending stones

it’s Gorgug keep going

______________________________

Riz “The Ball” Gukgak:

The roguish goblin

Killed a dragon

With deepest passion he was gobbling

He’s hidden when

He gets his shots in

Riz Gukgak? Nay, “the Ball”

With arquebus

And sword to choose

The briefcase where he keeps his clues

Or healer’s kit

And clue tattoos

He makes good use of them all

The little shrimp

Of the bad kids

When seeking clues do as he bids

While counting fingers

He shot Biz

He’ll commit assault

Though self-contained

With party in reins

He thinks at night with buzzing brain

He’ll ne’er refrain

And fears no pain

The fury of the small

______________________________

Fabian Seacaster:

The bardic fighter

Sheet igniter

Hellish motorcycle rider

With dance and fire

He will reach higher

Fabian Seacaster

Born to pirate

Legacy and

Elvish smiths and fighters free

He made his way

From land to sea

And faced disaster

The warlocks slain

‘Twas only him

And erstwhile friend, Chungledown Bim

And on a whim

From battle grim

He fled and fell even faster

And from that moment

He was changed

His skill in elvish dance now trained

With sword and sheet

And crossbow ranged

Fabian Seacaster

1 Given the personal nature of these verses, there are a few deviations from how the song is typically sung for pirate heroes. While titles and epithets commonly feature in the Songs, this rendition features continual references to titles endowed upon the Bad Kids, formal or otherwise, save Seacaster's own verses. These include: the Elven Oracle [Adaine Abernant-O'Shaughnessy], the InFaethable [Figueroth Faeth], the Blessed Saint [Kristen Applebees], the Crab King [Gorgug Thistlespring], and The Ball [Riz Gukgak].

#dimension 20 #d20exchange2023 #songs of the Celestine #the bad kids #adaine abernant #kristen applebees #fig faeth #riz gukgak #gorgug thistlespring #fabian seacaster #fantasy high #fantasy high sophomore year #d20 poetic thoughts

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altargarden · 2 months

Note

I've been feeling drawn to Leviathan lately, so I was wondering if you have any advice or just things you think more people should know about them?

sure thing! i can do my best to help!

general advice:

always be polite and respectful. during your first encounter, try to come with some form of offering for her time.

don't make commands if you have something she can help you with, make requests instead. she will not always fulfill requests, and you need to respect that. just like people, demons are allowed to say no.

don't approach her with expectations, good or bad. having bias will not help you in any form.

if you wish to talk to her, during the beginning of your relationship, don't directly channel. give her a medium to bring messages through, such as a candle flame, divination cards, or even a book or a playlist to randomly go through.

i personally started off our relationship by referring to her as "lord"/"lady" - this is not a must, but it does establish a strong amount of respect for her power.

candles, incense, and prayers never hurt anyone. frankincense is a pretty common worship incense, if you need something general. however, i have found she likes the colour blue or gold (for candles), and dragon's blood (for incense). if you're in a place where you can't burn things, try an LED candle where you can change the colour, or wax melts in the above scents. i tend to do a healthy mixture of both, and i've never been told it's not wanted.

what people should know about leviathan:

she has a very heavy energy to some, and it can take some getting used to. if you haven't contacted her before, you may get a sensation of fear or general overwhelming sensations.

don't be off-put if she's pretty shut off from you at first. it's not that she doesn't care, she's just very guarded. it comes from her being a very emotional being, and my theory is, she does this to keep those who contact her safe.

she enjoys salty foods and (don't think of her weird for this) drinks. offerings of strong black coffee with sea salt in it has never let me down.

she respects gusto! if you have a little audacity, she respects the bravery.

she enjoys spending time close to the sea. other large bodies of water are also appreciated, but she likes the sea the most. if you can take time to visit the beach, she will appreciate it.

she likes things of her likeness, as like most dragons, she carries an element of pride to her. this can be as simple as things that are teal, blue or green, or it can be an expensive dragon statue.

to me she doesn't show herself in human form. however, i don't doubt the other accounts from other users that she can appear as human, if you request it.

offerings i recommend: blue, teal, green or gold candles, dragon's blood incense (or frankincense), scents/herbs/items marked as "protective", smoke, water, gold coins, sea shells, stuff found at the beach, dragon imagery, imagery of large ocean animals such as whales, sharks, and seals, serpent imagery, tears, jewellery, pearls or fake pearls, sea weed or foods with sea weed like sushi, fishy foods (crumbed fish, calamari, crab), salt or salted water, sand, muddy soil, the feeling you get after you wake up from a nightmare, difficult to process emotions in general (offer her to eat your negative emotions, it won't affect her i promise), fridged or ice water, prayers, thanks, compliments and gratitude.

offerings i don't recommend: non-blood body fluids (you may experiment when you're both comfortable with each other, i won't stop you, i just personally don't give body fluids to her nor have i ever done so), dry earth/soil, large fires (candles are okay but other fires she isn't really interested in), irrelevant imagery, any reference to her role in the bible (i get bitter feelings from her), the colour red or brown, blood (you do you here, but to me it's like giving blood to a shark - just be careful).

possible devotional acts: going to therapy, confronting your fears, speaking your emotions, eating salty foods, drinking the required amount of water, enjoying going swimming, educating yourself on aquatic life (especially sharks), dancing in the rain (make sure you do it safely), laughing as hard as you can, playing games that involve monsters (pokemon is a favourite for her), praying to her, giving her requests to help you with, knowing you're fierce and powerful!

i hope this helps! thank you so much for inquiring about her. she's the infernal being i'm closest to, so thus i have the most to say about her! if you have any other questions i'll be happy to listen. :-)

#bun talks #leviathan #theistic satanism #demonolatry

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superoffbatter · 3 months

Text

Wolfstack's Ticking Time Bomb | Hard Mode Guide

Are you guys having fun with the new World Event? I know I am. I am having so much fun with my runs (and only 1 self-explosion so far) that I've decided to write up a guide for it!!!

There's around 14.000 of the World Quality left so we don't have all that much time to continue. If you just want to experience the travel, do a medium/easy run!

An Easy run is especially worth it if you just unlocked the ship, even. And the event is very cool!!!! The fear! The tension! The tick-tock of the bombs as you drag the bulk of your ship through the sharp rocks and winding paths, heart racing, eyes full of terror.

The doubt! The way you grow increasingly afraid, increasing terrified, thinking of anything, any solution at all to get out of this problem you have gotten yourself in. The maddening sound, the warmth, the desperation, the growing threat of mutiny quelled only be the ever more terrible threat of an explosive demise.

This might be the *best* out of all the Living World Events we got so far!

Alrighty, so to the guide part.

First out of everything- admit that you are not going to be able to succeed in the checks. It's fine, if you're lategame to try and go for the medium ones, but the checks in the hardmode can reach up to 24 Zeefaring to 100%.

Yeah, it's genuinely insane. So, ignore them.

But if you can't use half the cards- how will you, a zailor of quality, finish this event's hardmode and get a nice new quality for your mantelpiece?

Here are some recommendations.

First of all, grind as much Strong-Backed Labour as you possibly can. I actually recommend either:

The Bazaar Side-Streets (marginally more efficient with underclay. Don't worry about the 3.50E you've just spent- this event can reach 8 EPA in hardmode, even if you don't have the needed Zeefaring.)

The Southwark statue in Jericho Locks. It's the best option for SBL, bar none, though it requires card draw.

In any other circumstance, I'd tell you to go for the Underclay, but this event is genuinely so profitable the Bazaar Side-Streets become a viable option. Every action you save is worth its weight in gold.

Get *as much SBL as possible.* 6-9 is the absolute minimum in my opinion.

Second: Stock up on Second Chances. Specifically, Dangerous chances. Keep your Suspicion below 5 as well so you can draw a certain very good card in zee.

Next: keep your Troubled Waters low. A bit of pirating here and there isn't too harmful- it doesn't really increase TW that much over the regular cards.

Keep at least one TW-reducing card in your hand, so you can use them to switch regions from Home Waters to London and from Stormbones to the event location. If you have more then one TW-reducing card in your hand, lower your TW, but always make sure to change regions with a TW-lowerer.

This is because your hand is wiped on region change, so to minimize TW you need to do this!

Good cards for TW reduction:

"A Corvette of Her Majesty's Navy,"

"The Wax-Wind" (if you have a zub)

"What do the Drownies Sing?" (if you have a Drownie Effluvia from Fruits of the Zee)

"A Giant Angler Crab" (specifically "Ready the guns and fire at its soft spots" option, reducing TW by 2 CP).

When you get there, every level of TW will be converted into the event menace, Volatility, and reaching 8 volatility will blow you up.

Now, you got to the hard part.

Most likely then not, you are not going to be able to do the advanced checks here, so keep to the Watchful check (which is super easy) and the Dangerous check (which is amazing)! They are, respectively, 'Steady! Steady!' and 'No way! There's no way!' and they will be your salvation.

Those second chances? Those are for the Dangerous check. Never play the Red Science check unless you're very very endgame and utterly loaded on that stat.

(I enjoyed the game telling me that 10% RS check is, incredibly, safer option than the one that has an actual chance of success and I can spend a second chance on.)

There are, at first, only 4 cards in deck, so you can keep drawing and playing those two.

By the time you have Progress to the Admiralty Depot 5, you start drawing a (bad) card called 'Now! Now!'

It's not very good. It has an insanely difficult check which you should never roll on, and an option that spends 1-3 Labours for some guaranteed progress.

When you draw this card, take a deep breath and check your Volatility. Is it below 4? Is it at most halfway to 5? If it is and your progress is *not* 6 or 7, you can bite the bullet and do a zeefaring check to draw again. You can take the damage. If it isn't, simply spend the SBL and draw again.

The card 'We're not going to make it!' has a slightly lower amount of damage dealt to you so pick it, if this happens.

Now, have you drawn 'Steady! Steady!' or 'No way! There's no way!' in your new draw?

Play those.

Now, draw again and hope for one of those two.

If you draw a Zeefaring check again, sigh mournfully and spend the SBL.

Rinse and repeat- even if you have the worst luck ever, 9 SBL should be enough to get you there.

And congratulations! Your heart is racing, your breath is hot- but you have earned your bounty.

#fallen london #guide

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honey-minded-hivemind · 9 months

Text

For the 🦈SirenSong!AU, the reader is going to be related to Logan/Wolverine (35 people voted, majority chose him in the poll, so this is the route we're taking!). The reader will likely be a deep sea siren like him, Laura, and Victor, but could also be part open ocean or reef siren... maybe the reader is more reef or open ocean siren than they are deep sea... or mayhaps they are fully presenting as one of the other two instead of the deep sea type! Imagine what you will, but I might explore (or make canon) one of these ideas in the future.

As for their color scheme, it is probably similar to Logan, Laura, and Victor as well. Something sunny, warm, or warm-toned neutrals... similar to a piece of bumblebee jasper, fire agate, amber, tiger's eye, cat's eye, or other similar warm-toned patterned and shaded gemstone, with bits of brown and black involved. Their scales and fins though... that I plan to make a poll for, one each, so until those are done, I'll leave it vague what their fin and scale types are.

The reader is a mixed bag of feelings and experiences, due to being caught in a siren pup trafficking ring when they were younger, experimented on for a short time, and then raised by a kindly human once they escaped... they don't remember much about the ocean or coastal towns and cities, nothing but vague impressions and certain key things. They do have things they like and dislike, and have unresolved traumatic issues pertaining to the ordeals they went through, and losing their human caretaker recently before the present story...

Some of the things they like are:

• Pearls (any color, shape, or size; they vaguely remember playing with them, but can't remember when; they like the smooth, cool texture to them, too)

• Shrimp (tasty and simple; ate them with the shells on, until they found out you aren't supposed to do that, ever)

• Fluffy Blankets

• Cats

• Crabs (cute AND tasty!)

• Otters (fluffy noodles)

• Seals (cute and fat)

• Octopi (cute; prefer not to eat them, due to their intelligence)

• Jewelry (gold, silver, string, pearl, gem, glass, it doesn't matter: if it is shiny, sparkly, or dangles, they want to collect it)

• Books (Shakespeare, Ivanhoe, Aesop's Fables, or even some children's books like the Narnia series, Goodnight Moon, or Winnie The Pooh... much knowledge and wisdom and whimsy can be found in all of those, and the reader loves them all)

• Classical Music (they adore hearing instruments like the harp, the drums, or the cello)

• Odd Stuffed Animals (the animals that aren't regularly made into plushies, like fish, squid and octopi, caterpillars, foods, etc.)

• Hugs (they crave affection, but don't have friends or family to receive them from or to give it to)

And some things they dislike are:

• Most Humans (they fear them, and have mostly dealt with the more wicked, shady sort; they try to avoid being near them for too long, in fear of them discovering they are a siren)

• Other Sirens (they fear the other sirens hating them or seeing them as defective, due to being so out of touch with their own species and for being caught by humans; but they haven't met another siren since they escaped the humans who caught them)

• Loud Noises

• Bright Lights

• Babies (due to the drool, vomit, and excretions that come out, not to mention their wailing)

• Hot Weather

• Open Ocean (they don't know how to survive on their own in the ocean, and they haven't been to the sea since before they can remember... and the wide, empty waters make them feel lonely)

• Sea Snakes (venomous and can swim, they are a childhood fear of their's)

• Scorpions

• Large Empty Spaces (small empty spaces don't bother them, but too large of a room and only them to fill it makes them feel lost and paranoid)

The reader is someone who feels awkward, doesn't always understand social cues, and tries to be kind (if a bit secretive) to others. They want to be good, and they want friends and family and the love they provide, but they are on their own, now that their only caretaker, the human who raised them, has passed on... So the reader heads into the coastal city, where they know sirens are in charge and they have a better chance at not being found out. They can't risk anyone coming after them or discovering what they are. They won't risk being caught again, they can't bear the thought of having to go through that sort of torture, that type of pain, again. If only the knew that sirens are very caring, especially towards their own... and with the reader being a pup... once the sirens discover that, they aren't ever leaving their new bby on their own with no protection, no pod, no parents or siblings or family... And Logan/Wolverine is certainly going to be emotional when he sees his lost pup again, and he sure as h*ll won't be letting them go, not without a fight... not after losing them all those years ago...

#honeycomb thoughts #platonic yandere marvel #yandere platonic marvel #platonic yandere #platonic yandere x reader #platonic yandere xmen #yandere x-men #platonic yandere wolverine #xmen the animated series #xmen evolution #🦈SirenSong!AU!

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