#sheltered in the domain after the apocalypse

[gabelew]

sidon but awkward lanky teenager

still not yet grown into his head fin and big adult teef. he'll get there eventually

#zora #sidon #prince sidon #botw #totk #i have so much zora lore for the 100 years between the calamity and the beginning of the game guys like you have no idea #and sidon's teenage years are a major part of it because it's just too fascinating to imagine his 100 years of character journey #sheltered in the domain after the apocalypse #the potential for angst! drama! shenanigans! #i don't believe he was a calm nonproblematic child like come on

[rjalker]

since I keep forgetting and the post keeps getting too long:

feral cat going on a rant to a former, and only just recently strayed indoor only cat about how no, being feral does not mean you're some super cool hero who knows everything and is always one step ahead of everything and living a life of amazing fun adventure. It means never having shelter or safety and knowing that the humans who brought you here broke their promise to not only you, but to your parents and their parents, and now they're all fucking gone so there's no more chances for them to even fix it. Being feral means not knowing whether you're going to survive the day or whether the flowers you're walking past are going to kill you. It means knowing your existence is actively destroying the world around you but you can't do anything about it except decide to die, and what the fuck kind of choice is that?

for a book about the pets left to fend for themselves after the apocalypse.

you are 100% encouraged to take this idea and run with it. It came from a dream I had several years ago now that I just randomly remembered for some reason.

Edit:

You know what, all my books are gonna be public domain anyways, you can just have the two things I wrote for this and use them as writing prompts for your own original story.

= = =

Quote #1

That was the final straw.

"What do you mean you don't know?" [Indoor only cat] burst out, whirling on [Feral cat] "You're feral, aren't you?! You're supposed to know these kinds of things! What do you mean, 'I don't know'??"

[Feral cat] leapt backward and landed, back arched, ears pinned as [Y] hissed, tail twitching just above the ground. A growl started building in [Feral cat]'s throat as [Indoor only cat] stared, shocked by the display of open and abject fear in every line of [Feral cat]'s body.

"What are you--" [A] started to say, bewildered, taking a step forward.

[Feral cat]'s growl turned into a yowl, and [Indoor only cat] froze, unable to comprehend what was happening.

They stayed like that for a dozen racing heartbeats before [Indoor only cat] realized that backing away might be a good idea. And so would apologizing, now that [pronoun] thought about it. [A] backed up several steps, fighting to keep [C] body language relaxed and calm.

“I wasn't trying to scare you.” [Indoor only cat] said,

= = =

Quote #2

"You think that's what feral means? You think being feral means knowing this kind of shit? You think ferals are kings of the streets, fearing nothing, knowing everything? Who the fuck told you that bullshit, your family's free roaming dog? Probably wanted to cover for the fact that he hadn't killed any of us yet and wanted to make himself feel better! You want to know what feral means, lapcat? It means watching all of your siblings die from the cold, or disease, or because they ran into the road and didn't see the car coming. It means watching your mother get killed by a stinking dog with a fancy collar and a shiny tag because her owner couldn't be bothered to keep her on a leash, and she thinks disemboweling cats is the greatest fun since humans invented squeaky toys! Feral means knowing that every human who sees you either hates your stinking guts and will try to run you over, or doesn't give a shit whether you live or die, just as long as you do it somewhere out of sight. It means knowing that your parents parents were house cats, living it up in luxury, just like the humans promised, until one day their humans realized your grandmother was pregnant, and decided they weren't worth the effort of keeping around anymore, not when there'd be kittens to feed, and broke their stinking promise by throwing them out on the street to fend for themselves. Feral means starving every day until you get lucky, and knowing every time you do that every other animal in this stinking city wants you dead with a vengeance. We don't stinking belong here, do you even understand that? We're not supposed to be here! The humans stinking brought us to this whole island, and they were supposed to take care of us, keep us safe inside their homes where nothing could hurt us and we wouldn't have to hurt the wildlife!

We came with the humans, and they were supposed to uphold their end of the bargain, but they didn't! They just kept breaking it, and didn't even try to fix things!

Even the ones who said they wanted to help you, they don't really care at all, they just want to stop you from having kittens, but they don't care what happens to you!

You see this stinking notch on my ear? That's from the human I thought was going to adopt me, bring me home and keep me safe – Well guess what? She lied! She didn't want to help me, she just wanted to stop me from having my own kittens some day, and as soon as that was done, she threw me back into the woods! She just kept stinking saying it was better this way, because I would be so sad if I was brought inside, and she didn't want to listen when I begged her not to put me back! And she didn't listen! Because she didn't care!

The humans brought us here, and broke their promise, and now you, one of the stinking lucky ones, think being feral is a good thing? You think it's a stinking mark of pride? You think it means I know anything and everything I need to to survive out here?

You think I can tell you whether or not this stinking carcass is safe to eat? You think being feral means I magically know what's going to kill me? What's next, you're gonna tell me you think I somehow know when it's safe to cross the street without a human running me over? Have you seen my stinking tail? I'll give you three guesses to how that happened!

Being feral is not some cool heroic stinking journey, housecat, it's a stinking nightmare, brought down on us by shitty humans who couldn't be bothered to do the one job they'd accepted! And now it's too stinking late for them to fix any of it, because now they're all gone, and they're never coming back!

Even if some of them are still alive, none of them are coming back for us, because now you, and the rest of your housekept friends, are no better than we are – feral. And to humans, feral means stinking useless. And don't you give me some sob story about how your human is different, your human really cares, your human is going to come back for you. You lived right on top of ground zero. Your human was probably dead before the first night was even over.”

= = =

and yes these could just be part of the same scene but I wrote them separately, so you can just mush them together if you want.

The key point here is that they have to have actual cat body language though, so if you don't know what that looks like you should definitely learn before writing this. pro tip: cats don't hiss when they're angry.

#writing prompts #writing ideas #story ideas #xenofiction #xenofiction prompts #xenofiction ideas #fictional animal death #animal death #apocalypse prompts #dystopia prompts #idk #long post

[rightpastnowhere]

📝📝 orz

OH HI!!! it’s been a while!!! ur a fren from the marvel days so i’m gonna dust off some of my old marvel ideas :))

1. i really wanted to do more with my mythology au that i wrote some scarvis for for AU-gust (here is the fic if ur interested), and expand it to look at some more of the cast. maybe something with the OG 6, and some sort of first war similar to the olympians vs the titans or whatever. maybe something infinity war adjacent, altho i was sorta running with my own plot or whatever. and i really did want to assign more domains to more of the cast, but i was struggling with some of the bigger domains (aka life) and who i could assign them to (tbh i’m thinking of helen cho just because she deserves more attention but idk)

mostly i kinda wanted to write more of wanda and vision’s relationship - that forbidden romance type shit, but now they’re gods and it’s Dramatic. like the other gods snooping around and trying to see what they’re up to, and playing more with that concept of the divide between two factions. maybe even branching out to those unforeseen consequences hinted at in the beginning, something breaking in the world as a result of order and chaos’ entanglement. idk! i’ve got a lot of ideas for this world but not enough attention span to write it

2. one of those apocalypse aus where it’s just a wasteland. not one with zombies or whatever else to fight, just… trying to live in desolation. trying to start over when the world has been all but destroyed, and the few people left are turning agaisnt each other. the og 6 avengers forming a traveling group that wanders around, taking down the corrupt dictatorial groups or the crazed mercenaries when they can. wanda and pietro escaping from one of those dictatorial groups, one they thought they’d joined for protection, because they’re tired of seeing people hurt and it outweighs their survival instinct, now. vision and helen (his mom because i Have To in any au) taking up shelter in an abandoned hospital, distributing supplies to any wanderers they come across, trying not to be noticed by the big camps or the roving killers. just… wasteland au

you know what?? i also really want to read that for critical role. vox machina as the traveling somewhat vigilantes, but really just a group trying to survive, forced to leave the old house in the countryside they’d used as a base after they run out of resources. finding allura and kima as they travel, as well as zahra and kash and tary and whoever else. stumbling upon percy and cass in their mansion, crumbling apart, the last ones left - and very promptly asking to use like 20 of the guest rooms. again!! wasteland vibes!!

#OOF i wrote more than i meant to #wanda maximoff #vision #scarletvision #helen cho #marvel #mcu #the avengers #critical role #vox machina #jacketpotatoo #asks

[dailyadventureprompts]

I want you to know I read your posts like the morning paper on my way to work- I love your writing and your material's tone and prose aligns a lot with the stuff I write! Wanted to request something to do with dead/forgotten deities- I've been thinking about a dead sun god from when people used to have a "principal sky deity" that has fallen out of favor, and what implications that might have.

Dungeon: The Empyreal Tombs

Setup: Phaetamir was an ancient god light and conquest, who rode out each day on his great solar chariot to survey his empire and encourage his devoted to acts of glory. To hear his priests speak of it, the empire of the faithful would push ever outward towards all horizons, just as the rays of the sun illuminated all corners of the world.

Needless to say, Phaetamir and his followers made a lot of enemies, and it was perhaps inevitable that someone would seek reprisal against them on a deific scale. The sungod's doom eventually came out of the desert, when great spirits of storm and dust knocked Phaetamir from his chariot and quenched his fire beneath an endless tide of sand, dousing his light and burring his capital forever.

Though centuries past and its players all but forgotten, the ghost of this calamity lives on in the shadowfell by way of a nightmarish labyrinth known by delvers of the dark realms as "The Empyreal Tombs". Resembling nothing so much as a city-sized monument to the sungod collapsing in on itself, the tombs are a quite literal metaphor of Phaetamir and his faithful being crushed by the weight of their own hubris.

Adventure Hooks:

As a dread domain there is no one entrance to the Empyreal Tombs, as crossing over the barrier into the shadowfell may be deceptively simple: A party seeking shelter from a sandstorm in a long abandoned temple may find themselves trapped in winding passages after the floor collapses. A historian researching ancient cultures may be riven with dreams of burning while being buried alive, and pull the party in as they try to help. A trapped chest may open filling the chamber with impossible sand, leaving the party to dig them selves free only to discover their environment has changed drastically.

Innumerable dangers fill the tombs, ranging from subterranain dust storms and crumbling architecture to paniced specters of those who lived in Phaetamir's capital screaming as they're stuck beneith rubble. Trying to help these pitiful souls only has them cling on to their supposed rescuer as the walls or ceiling begin to squeeze in, making every potential cry for help bait for a grisly death. While innumerable shadowfell monsters have made their homes in these halls, perhaps the worst are the echoes of Phaetamir's most famous warriors, literally burning with their desire to conquer and driven on by feral zeal.

In the deepest level of the tombs where the heat is sweltering and the air ripples like a marriage, there is a cenotaph: a great slab of stone that acts as both altar and grave marker to Phaetamir, massive so as to contain enough room to write all of the god's many victories. The stone lays upon the body of Phaemtamir crushing him for eternity, allowing his impossible heat and occasional to escape through the thin crack as his spirit pushes against its weight. Those that would seek to remove the altar or plunder the treasures that lay heaped upon it in offerings will have to contend with Diavadess, a formless demon of shadow that was destined to wrestle with Phaetamir at the end of time to decide the empire's ultimate fate. Denied its apocalypse, Diavadess merely waits.

The Cult of the Hidden Sun is known to appropriate Phaetamir's iconography and long abandoned sites of worship, seeking to tap into a shared cultural history spread across the breadth of the now fallen empire. The cult is not above hurling non-believers into the Empyreal Tombs, or in using its winding passageways as transport between their hidden places.

#dread domain #divinity: sun #tomb #dungeon #shadowfell #ruin #desert #curse #disaster #divinity: war #Sword and Sandal #Cultists #random encounter #portals #D&D #D&D adventure #Homebrew Adventure #Adventure #DnD

[powdermelonkeg]

how do you think the Hyrulean "government" would work?? like as in we know Hyrule is one kingdom but there are regions and races within it that have their own rulers. I wonder how much power those rulers have, and if a possible decision the make has to go through the Hyrulean King/Queen to be approved first

Personally, I think that the Hyrulean government WAS an absolute monarchy—giving the royal family total control—but over time, this power's been waning and the Hylian Royals have been more diplomatic in their approach.

Let me explain.

In Ocarina of Time's era, the royal family is in charge of just about everything. The Sheikah answer to the King directly, evidenced by Impa, and Kakariko is used as a shelter for Market Town refugees. Meanwhile the Deku Tree, Goron Chief, and Zora Princess were all entrusted with keys to the Sacred Realm, with the King having the most important piece in the sacred ocarina.

We see evidence to royal control in the fact that, everywhere, all over almost EVERYTHING, we see things that require the Ocarina of Time—and thereby express royal permission—to access.

You need Zelda's Lullaby to so much as access Zora's Domain and Darunia's room

And a letter from Zelda herself to even climb the mountain.

Zelda's Lullaby is used to control the water levels in the Zoras' own temple, at the bottom of Lake Hylia.

And there are Song-of-Time activated blocks literally EVERYWHERE.

Fast forward to Breath of the Wild, though, and the bodies of Hyrule are much more independent.

I'm going to use the Zora as the best example here. Not only do they have a full on military in the form of their armed guards

But the king of Hyrule couldn't order its princess to be champion. Zelda had to ask.

And in Age of Calamity, Dorephan even flat-out refuses.

In the Champions' Ballad, Zelda approaches Urbosa with the same request.

Urbosa treats the whole thing very seriously, despite talking casually with Zelda after. She speaks as an authority in this situation, and calls Zelda "Princess of Hyrule," rather than "Your highness" or even just "Princess," implying that there's a distinction.

So, in BotW era, Hyrule's various races have their own subkingdoms that they rule independently. They work with and for the King of Hyrule, due to them collectively being impacted by the Calamity and being forced to rely on the royal Hylian bloodline to seal it away. It's like a set of treaties; each subkingdom pledges their allegiance to Hyrule's King, promising conditional compliance in exchange for Hyrule's protection against the recurring apocalypse.

#loz #zelda #worldbuilding #headcanons #i have thought about this extensively #hyrule is six countries in a trench coat #ask bee

[fakecrfan]

Since you very nicely offered to write me a fic:

Your prompt is: A story about a background character or characters dealing with life after the TMA apocalypse.

It can be set in the OG TMA universe in the post-post-apocalypse, or it can also be set in a different universe that was affected by the events of MAG 200.

Both OCs and characters established in-show are allowed.

This one aligned so well with my interests that I am actually tempted to open my inbox, briefly, in case anyone else has questions like “what is X bavjground character doing after the apocalypse?” so I can make a series out of it and expand on my post-post-apocalypse headcanons.

For now, you can read your fic here, on over here on AO3

---

Sarah doesn't know where she is.

England, she has to still be in England, she thinks. But it's not an England she recognizes. Not the cobblestone streets of London, and not the moors she used to visit on her vacations. The ground is barren, as though all blades of grass but a few have shriveled up and died. There are no trees, houses, or landmarks for miles--just scorched remnants of where they might have been before.

For a moment, the emptiness of it all is a relief after the hotel. But everything is the same on all sides, and she doesn't know where she is or where to go. She's starting to get hungry, too. She never got hungry in the hotel, nightmarish as it was.

She has to sit down for a moment, take a few deep breaths, and think.

Get food. Find shelter. Survive.

Find Alex.

(God, why had she left her child in a hotel room? Little twelve year old Alex who was still afraid to sleep without a night light. He'd begged her to stay, she should have--)

With that in mind she gets up. Doesn't know what direction to walk in, so she doesn't concern herself with trying to pick one. There's nothing to do but walk, keep her eyes open, and hope.

So she hopes.

---

None of our old maps match the landscape, anymore.

The world these days it's... not like in the before times, as I suppose we're calling it. Despite our hopes, ending the apocalypse wasn’t like everyone waking up from a nightmare. The land is...

It's scrambled, I guess. There are patches of the world that--well. They're not the same, but still have infrastructure intact. Electricity, running water, air conditioning. No scorched earth or rubble in these areas. Just a bunch of traumatized people living in an intact town, or city.

When I talk to them, they tell me it's not the city they remember, though. Everything has been switched around, houses and stores not where they remember them. Their neighbors aren't the neighbors their remember.

Those are the lucky ones. And then there's, well... the outside.

Some places have rubble everywhere, jagged steel ripped apart and waiting for someone to cut themselves on it. Some are frozen over, still waiting for the ice they were frozen over with in the apocalypse to melt. Some are scorched to dust. No phones out there, or anything that lets you connect back with home base.

I'm going out there. We need to map it out. We need to figure out our new world, understand it--and we need to get as many people out of the wastes as possible.

Melanie, Georgie--I’ll see you soon.

---

Sarah does find water. That's something. She's hungry still, so hungry, but she knows that the water is more important.

She wonders if she should stay there. She doesn't know if there will be more watering holes in the future, after all, and she has no way to carry it with her. She decides to keep moving on, and hope for the best.

She starts to see blades of grass poking up, along with some sort of metal crap strewn about the landscape. She looks at them a moment--it seems to be bits of an old carousel? Eventually, a giant sit in their shade, for a while. There she takes a moment to look at the horizon, and goes cold.

She recognizes the tower on the horizon.

A  scaffolded tower with two legs beneath it. A sight she'd last seen on a postcard from her brother. The Eiffel Tower.

Is she in Paris? No, that can't be it. It's just the tower out here in the wastes. There are none of the buildings that would normally surround it. It's almost as though its been ripped out of the city and transported here.

Does Paris even exist anymore? Does London?

If she even finds Alex, will there be a home for them to go back to?

---

I have a theory, Melanie. I think lots of people got transported to different places in the world based on what fear they belonged to. Like, a bunch of lonely people were put in the same place, a bunch of claustrophobic people were put in the same place, and so on. All away from the people they knew.

I’m in one of the suburban safe areas now. No one here knows each other. I talked to them all, and all of them remember living in the same house before, but none of them recognized the houses near them or the people in them. When I went from house to house, everyone had a different native language. I talked to a German guy and a French guy who spoke English, but a lot of them… couldn’t talk to me at all.

There was a woman who--she saw me and she lit up. She grabbed me and started talking a mile a minute in Arabic, I think. But I couldn’t understand her, and she--when I tried to talk back to her in English, her face just. Fell. And then she started to cry.

My dad refused to speak it at home, you know. He-- Actually, never mind. It’s not important. 

She ended up shoving me away.

---

Sarah makes it to the ruins of a forest. 

There’s nothing but stumps left of it, along with litter everywhere. She finds water again, filthy brackish water, and she drinks it anyway because she’s so thirsty. She starts sifting through all of the garbage strewn about for something edible. She finds stale bread crusts crawling with ant and eats them anyway. 

She finds a can of beans, and almost cries. When she can’t find a can opener, she screams instead.

---

The death count has gotten to me, honestly.

I’ve found dead bodies even in the towns and cities. Some looked like heart attacks. Some suicides. People who woke up but couldn’t bear the agony they’d just gone through. That’s still not… the worst of it.

I passed a whole field of dead bodies today.

Hundreds of people, I think, all of them lying dead in the soil. But there were... trails. They had been walking, before they collapsed. All walking in the same direction, to where you can still see London on the horizon.

They were alive. They were trying to get help. And they just... starved, it looks like. The walk was just too long.

How many people are going to die from it all, Melanie? How many already have, out where we can't see them?

I left as many jugs of clean water and rations along the roads as I could. I put up signs pointing to London, saying how many miles out they were, where I had stashed food. I gave them your number, so they know who to call to get to the shelter.

I hope it means the next group that passes by won't die.

I hope there is a next group.

---

Sarah can see what looks like a city in the distance before she collapses. 

She tries to get up, but can’t. She’s been walking for days now, it feels like, only sporadically drinking and almost never eating.  There just isn’t enough energy left in her to stand.

She tries to think about little Alex again, running around in his Batman cape, hoping some kind of love or maternal instinct will kick in and give her the last burst of adrenaline she needs to get up. It doesn’t work. Maybe she doesn’t love her own son anymore, really. Maybe it’s just been fear and guilt driving her this far, and that source has already been wrung dry. 

She manages to crawl a few feet, before she can’t even do that. With nothing else left to do, she starts to cry out. “Help! Water, please!” 

She doesn’t think anyone will hear, or show up. But against all odds, in her dimming vision she sees a figure come into view. Backpacked, clutching a water bottle. 

“Help,” she croaks out again. 

The figure gets closer, and she starts to be able to make out the details of his face. He’s her age, or older, with worry lines carved into his forehead and wide eyes. His nose looks eerily like her brother’s nose, and the shape of his jaw reminds her of her old boyfriend, the one who left her with--

She blinks. Maybe she’s hallucinating, or maybe she’s somehow run into a long lost cousin. But then, the man’s eye’s widen and his mouth opens.

“Mum?”

No, no it can’t…

“A-alex?”

No, Alex was a little round cheeked boy. This is a thirty year old man, at least, taller than her. It hasn’t been that long. It can’t be, it’s not--

“Mum?” He’s doing a frown that looks so, so familiar. This has to be a dream. “Mum, it’s--no.”

He sniffles. He steps forward, and steps back. He paces, uncertain.

“No, no,” she hears him mutter. “It’s all fake, all fake. It’s a trap. That’s what they want, the monsters and the face stealers. No one is real. Don’t give them what they want--’’

“Please.” she begs. 

But she hears him walk away, sniffling, and shortly thereafter everything goes dark. 

---

I have a confession to make, Melanie. I was going to side with Jon, back then. I could have lived with keeping everyone here suffering to prevent more of it. But when he said he was going to kill the whole world, not just leave it--that’s what made me snap. 

I couldn’t let the whole world die. Genocide of the entire human species? Anything but that. Surely passing along the suffering would be better, as long as it didn’t lead to the extinction of whole worlds. But… 

I keep finding more dead bodies.

I went back to that suburb I talked about, to restock on all my food. It was a lonely domain before, I think. I’d thought everyone there would be fine, you know. They didn’t have any deadly sicknesses, or twisted flesh injuries. They had food and water and shelter. But when I went back… more of them had died. 

Lots of suicides. Some of them snapped, and started to self injure.

The German guy I talked to had started to starve. He had a pantry full of food and he just wouldn’t eat it. I tried to get him to eat, to move in with someone else, but he said talking to people “made him sick.” 

I gave up, and left. I had to. There were too many people, and too much to do, so I left him. He’s probably dead now, or going to die soon. Because he can’t find the will to live, and I don’t know how to help someone with that.

The Lonely is probably one of the least directly harmful entities, right? This domain was just a suburb, probably the most comfortable you could get during the apocalypse. And yet the victims are still all dying. 

How much worse is it in places without food and water? In the corruption domains that still probably have deadly diseases spreading? In war zones, in flesh factories?

I think about that nursing home we found. All of the patients who'd died of heart attacks a few minutes after they'd woken up. The ones left alive screaming for help where no one could hear them, for days after the fact. All of the ones that died in their beds before we found them. 

I think about that field of bodies I found the other day. I think about the ruins of that Circus I found, people refusing to talk to me or each other--refusing to help because they didn’t believe it was over and thought everyone else was a mannequin. 

I think… I think it doesn’t matter that we saved the world. If people can’t find the will to live, ro rebuild, to trust and help each other again… I think we’re going through a mass extinction event anyway. 

---

Sarah’s in a car, she thinks. Not a moving one. She’s propped up against a seat,There’s something plastic pressed to her lips.

“Come on,” says a woman’s deep, level voice. “Come on. I got you. We’re getting to London. All you have to do is drink.”

Sarah opens her eyes. She sees a dark-skinned woman trying to coax her to drink, holding up a water bottle. 

“Just a sip,” the woman says. “Just enough to make it.”

Sarah closes her eyes, and takes a long moment to consider whether she wants to.

#my writing #tma fic #post post apocalypse #cw: suicide mention #cw: familial separation #cw: mass death #Basira Hussain

[mimosaeyes]

Jon still gets nightmares.

Set in a post-canon ‘verse where they save the world, build a life together, and adopt a cat. It’s a series now! This fic (2.7k) works standalone, but is best read after the others, especially I Was Found (13.2k of softness). Everything below the cut will spoil you for the end of that fic.

Beta-ed by @emberidzae. Thank you for telling me it’s probably fine.

There is a special kind of quiet that occupies a room near two in the morning. The refrigerator hums, the water pipes whine, sirens go off in the distance — this is London, after all. But beneath that lies stillness, elusive like the space between breaths.

Jon sits on the sofa, rocking ever so slightly and waiting for... he doesn’t even know what. For peace to slip into his lungs. Be carried along in his blood, spread throughout his brain. Every time he blinks, he thinks he sees horrific afterimages on the backs of his eyelids. Tonight, his dreams have been full of bodies: burning, running, festering, falling, twisting, crying, choking. Closing in on all sides of him, until his sight was completely obscured.

Out of that apparent void, a single, all-encompassing eye mired in spiderwebs had opened, and looked directly at him. Under its scrutiny, it was as if he and Martin had never fixed the world he’d broken. Never torn themselves out of the Mother of Puppets’ plots, or away from the Ceaseless Watcher.

He exhales slowly, burying his face in his hands. Surely he should be used to nightmares by now. He’s had a long history with them, between statement givers and his own encounters with entities and avatars. The dreams were always vivid and hallucinatory, clinging to him as he struggled toward consciousness and woke gasping, often clutching the arms of the office chair he’d dozed off in. Later, after he ended the world, he’d stopped sleeping entirely. Slumber no longer carried the promise of rest.

No one remembers clearly what happened to them in the domains during the apocalypse. That collective, polyphonic torment now lives on only in Jon’s mind. He may not be affiliated with the Beholding anymore, but some part of him will always be the Archive.

The frustrating thing is that over the last year and a bit, the nightmares have been happening less and less frequently. He’d actually thought they were going away, but all week now, Jon’s been waking up screaming or sobbing, tangled in the sheets, his pyjamas soaked through with cold sweat. Martin hasn’t gotten through a night undisturbed, either. They’re both exhausted; that’s probably why he managed to slip out of bed without alerting him initially.

Just then, a slight sound makes him look to his left. What he sees is so incongruous to his mood that he begins huffing in silent laughter.

Boo, the smaller of their two cats, is using one front paw to bat at his ear, on which a large dust bunny appears to be stuck. It’s a slightly lighter grey than his fur, else Jon may not have even seen it. 

Jon knows the exact moment Boo notices him looking, because he stiffens for a second. He’s been with them for a little over a month now, and while their efforts to make him feel at ease in their home have paid off somewhat, he remains jumpy.

Jon holds perfectly still. After a few seconds, Boo returns to his scratching, but to no avail. The dust bunny somehow ends up entangled in his whiskers, stretching between them and the tip of his ear. Boo shakes his head once, twice. Then he sneezes — and arches his back, his fur standing on end. 

He had actually startled himself with his own sneeze. Jon can’t help cracking a smile, endeared and grateful for the distraction, inadvertent though it may be. 

Clearing his throat quietly, he asks, “Would you like some help with that?”

Boo ignores him, which is ideal. It takes a certain amount of trust on this cat’s part to be considered beneath notice — meaning, not a threat. When Jon gets off the sofa and tries to approach, though, Boo freezes and watches him warily. So he sits down on the floor instead, thinking.

After a while, he begins softly singing the alphabet.

Immediately, Boo’s look changes from alert to curious. Whenever Jon has had the opportunity to do so, he’s been reading aloud to get Boo used to hearing his voice. Assembly instructions for a new shelf, dubious job listings he finds online, the weekly shopping list. At first, this strategy had been very successful. Boo learned to stop diving for cover every time Jon or Martin called for each other from another room. Then came the day Jon paused midway through washing up after dinner, to find Boo sitting not two metres away from his feet. It had been a crowning moment of triumph until Martin said, “You hum songs when you do the dishes, did you know? I think he likes it.”

Jon had somehow not been aware of this habit. He was instantly embarrassed.

Not that he’s stopped since it was pointed out to him. He’s actually been experimenting. Boo may have a certain fondness for ‘90s power ballads.

Which he is hardly going to attempt at this time of night. Instead, Jon cycles through the rainbow song and that one about the teapot, making no move as Boo cautiously approaches, blue eyes huge and unblinking. When he’s within an arm’s length, Jon stops singing and offers his hand for Boo to sniff at.

Purring now, Boo lets himself be pet. Jon seizes his chance and gently pulls off the dust bunny. “Now where did you even get this?” he wonders aloud. They’re generally diligent about household chores, especially keeping the place clean. Martin has allergies, and Jon likes the routine.

Boo nudges up into his fingers and leaves a smudge of fine dust on them.

A sneaking suspicion enters Jon’s mind. He narrows his eyes at the cat. “You’ve been in the study all day,” he says. “I saw you go in. And the desk has that jammed drawer, doesn’t it?” 

They’ve been meaning to fix that. The drawer is stuck just wide open enough for dust to collect on the inside. And apparently, for a skinny, timid cat to make his hiding place.

“Well, that’s one mystery solved,” Jon muses, continuing to pet Boo despite the dirt. “Filthy boy,” he says affectionately. “Scruffy. Crumpet will refuse to cuddle with you.”

Mrow, Boo protests in his low, bullfrog-like way. He’s much less vocal than his calico counterpart, so Jon doesn’t get to hear this often.

“I suppose you’re right. She’ll probably just try to clean all this off you. She dotes on you, doesn’t she?”

He falls silent for a while, until Boo indicates with a flick of his tail that he’s had enough. Jon lets him wander some distance off and begin grooming.

In the lull of activity, the memory of his nightmare comes back with a vengeance, screaming in his brain and making him suck a breath in through his teeth. He had known their names as they struggled in their personal hells at the end of the world, had drunk his fill of their suffering and felt sated in that most inhuman side of himself. 

It’s since been ripped away, of course, taking with it the voyeuristic detachment that had, in a perverse way, protected him from the distress his nightmares now cause him. Yet it scares Jon that that had ever been a part of him. Ever found suitable soil and taken root.

He’s fine, though. Or so he keeps telling himself. These aren’t the worst dreams, after all. No, those are the ones where he loses Martin. In the Panopticon. In the house on Hill Top Road. To the call of the Lonely. To the slip of a knife in the Hunt. There were so many ways one or both of them could have not survived. Not gotten to have everything they now have together.

Jon swallows and massages his temples. “Boo,” he says, “you’re afraid of everything. Any tips?”

Boo looks at him for a long moment, then yawns.

“I see,” Jon starts to say, just as a strangled cry comes from the street below. One of London’s many foxes, probably. Jon has learned to tune out this sort of thing, but the sound sends Boo scrambling for shelter.

And he runs to Jon.

“Oh, it’s okay,” Jon murmurs. “Just a fox. It’s over now. It’s okay.” After hesitating a moment, he picks Boo up and deposits him on his lap, then encircles the cat loosely with his arms. He doesn’t squish him — it’s Crumpet who likes to be bundled up and snuggled. He just sort of surrounds Boo, letting him mash his face into the crook of Jon’s elbow.

It takes a long time for Boo’s fur to settle back down. Jon starts stroking him after a minute, keeping his movements soothingly slow. “You’re safe here,” he tells him. 

Then he sighs and repeats quietly, to himself, “You’re safe. You’re here. It’s over.”

Boo leaps off his lap, rumbles at him, then darts back into the study. Jon watches him go, shaking his head. A problem for tomorrow.

He sighs, then pauses and deliberately takes a deep breath. He holds it for a count of five before releasing the air. He imagines tension bleeding away as he does.

Martin had taught him this technique back in the safehouse in Scotland — far from the first time Jon had had nightmares, but certainly the first time anyone had been there to comfort him when he woke up. Progressive muscle relaxation, Martin said it was called. He’d used it himself during his stay in the Archives, whenever those thirteen days he spent trapped in his flat by Jane Prentiss came back to haunt him. 

“Breathe in, tense? Okay, now hold,” he murmured, sitting up in bed next to Jon, his silhouette familiar and comforting against the yellow glow cast by the bedside light. It had been on by the time Jon surfaced into consciousness, still panting and crying.

“One one-thousand, two one-thousand, three, four, five,” Martin counted for him. “Release, breathe out.” His hands ran over Jon’s shoulders, warm and soothing. “Better?”

Jon nodded. “A bit,” he said, his voice a little hoarse. He must have yelled in his sleep before Martin managed to rouse him. “Listen, you... you don’t have to do this. I can go sleep on the couch.”

Martin went silent for a moment. “The other day, when I dreamt I was back in the Lonely. Did it cross your mind to kick me out, even for a second?”

“No,” Jon said at once, shocked. “Of course not.”

“Then that’s settled,” Martin said firmly. “You’re not okay, and I can help. That’s all there is to it. On to your arms next, ready? Breathe in, tense...”

Alone in their living room, but following Martin’s instructions from before, Jon works his way through various muscle groups until he gets to his hands, at which point he clenches his fists and presses his knuckles down against the floor on either side of his thighs. That probably isn’t recommended. He hasn’t done it hard enough to hurt, though, and he needs the sensation, he thinks, to ground himself in reality. To remind himself that he’s here in their tiny apartment, and if he goes to peer out the window, the sky will not look back at him. 

He’s here and it’s long past midnight, but if he texts Daisy, she will grouse good-naturedly, then call him to ramble about how the new podcast she’s started listening to is pretty good, but could never measure up to The Archers. If he goes back to the bedroom and tells his husband he needs him, Martin will rub his eyes and get up to make Jon some tea. He’ll put in milk and sugar, which always seems too indulgent for Jon to do himself, and they’ll cuddle up with a book, or in front of the telly with the volume turned way down.

The people he loves, who love him in return, are within reach. Even when they’re not there next to him. Jon knows this in a way that has nothing to do with the Beholding. It’s just hard to remember sometimes.

He exhales one final time, and that’s when Martin appears in the doorway to their bedroom.

“Hey,” he says quietly, looking soft and rumpled in his pyjamas. His voice is rough with sleep, low with concern. “I woke up and you weren’t there. Is this a bad night?”

Another one, you mean? Jon wants to say bitterly. He bites it back; it’s only the sleep deprivation talking. “I just needed a moment to clear my head,” he says, clambering to his feet. “Let’s go back to bed.”

He honestly feels a lot better, and he thinks he’s done a decent job of sounding normal. He must still look like a mess, though, because Martin frowns and stops him from squeezing past. “Wait. Do you want to talk about it?”

Jon’s already shaking his head. “No. It was just... more of the same.” The first few times, Martin had stayed up with him while Jon stammered out the things he’d seen in his dreams. He listened and tried to reassure him, and it had helped to an extent. But the more Jon spoke, the harder Martin’s lips pressed together in that way that meant he was horrified and trying to hide it. Jon had grown all too familiar with that expression during their walk through the domains.

He clears his throat. “Really, Martin. Everything’s fine.”

“Then why’d you come out here by yourself? Why didn’t you wake me?”

“Well, I thought one of us should get some sleep,” Jon says drily, only he’s tired, so it comes out rather snappy.

Martin cants his head at him, his brows pinching together. Jon can practically hear the gears whirring in his mind. He shifts uncomfortably.

“I know it’s been a bad week,” Martin says at last, softly, “but please don’t shut me out.”

As soon as he says it, Jon knows that that’s what he’d been trying to do tonight. Keep his nightmares and guilt to himself, protect Martin from the horrors he knows about anyway. At least, that was his excuse. It’s not that Jon didn’t want his help; he did. It had simply felt too selfish to ask for it.

Jon watches him for a long moment. He thinks about fear, and love, and self-isolation. He thinks about Martin waking up in the safehouse smelling like sea spray; about telling him to Breathe, just breathe. You’re not alone. Not anymore. He thinks about a little grey scaredy-cat who feels safe with Jon, of all people.

“I won’t,” he says. “I promise.”

Martin gives him a small smile. “Okay. How can I help?”

Jon bites his lip. “Would you... would you just hold me, please?”

“Oh, Jon.” Weary though he is, Martin’s look is full of sympathy. “Of course.”

Jon follows him back to bed. As he lifts his side of the covers, Martin says, “Ah, careful. I think Crumpet’s settled in the warm spot you left.”

He peers in the darkness. Indeed she has. “Your Royal Highness,” he greets her, bowing slightly. That’s the appropriate form of address for a princess. It doesn’t roll off the tongue very easily, but Martin groans and rolls his eyes whenever Jon says it, so he keeps doing the bit.

He can never bear to move either of their cats if they look comfy, so he gets into bed gingerly and ends up pressed close to Martin, who loops an arm over him. They’re face to face, with mere inches separating them.

“Hi,” Jon says, somewhere between shy and pleased.

“Hi,” Martin says back at him, his smile colouring the word. Jon thinks they could be seventy years old and still greet each other like that, bashful and sweet as teenagers with a crush.

Jon tucks his face against Martin’s shoulder, humming in contentment at the warmth and solidity of him. After a while, he mumbles, “By the way. Boo needs a bath.”

Martin laughs. “That’ll be an adventure. Why?”

His voice is light, but betrays how tired he is. Jon shifts and presses a kiss to his cheek. “Tell you in the morning. Go to sleep.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes,” Jon says slowly. “I think I will be.”

[my TMA fic on AO3]

#the magnus archives #jonmartin #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #mimofic

[radioromantic-moved]

updated tma s/i storyline/backstory because all of my rusty quill inserts have an entire biography of background information apparently  (this is a Big Fat post. under the cut for length and tma spoilers up until season 5)

-little american smartass moves overseas to go to college, makes two best friends (jon and georgie), together they co-run the gsa and top the honor roll (also, they become a professional third wheel)

-they move back home after college, and keep in touch with georgie and jon as best they can, with life and adult stuff getting in the way. 

-fast forward a couple years and look out, england, they’re back for more! apparently, their two college bffs have both landed themselves paranormal-based careers while they were away, and they’re absolutely getting in on that.

-ze hangs out at the archives, annoying jon. ze befriends the assistants because who DOESN’T want to befriend the assistants. ze gets offered a job a couple times but ze doesn’t take it because getting paid for paranormal nonsense kinda sucks all the fun out of it. also, the boss creeps zir out a little.

-jane prentiss and the close encounter with the creepy crawly kind is what sparks the idea that ohhh, maybe there’s something Legitimately Weird going on here. and it pushes zir to give jon a statement.

-so maybe everything was not so totally normal the whole time they were in america. so maybe one of their friends bailed on a camping trip so they had to stay in a cabin with some guy they didn’t know and sneak out the window in the middle of the night when one of his “hunting trips” went a little fucked up. so maybe they ran over what was probably a werewolf with their car. (they’re actually pretty proud of that last bit. like, they not only survived but they HIT a WEREWOLF with their CAR. they’re totally the best horror protag.)

-they meet helen when she comes in to give jon her statement. they help her calm down and get some basic information out of her. there’s a little romantic tension there from the beginning (what if our hands brushed while you were drawing an impossible map filled with too many turns…hahaha jk…unless?)

-helen remembers that.

-they rekindle their friendship with georgie like they were never apart at all, though she’s not quite comfortable enough to share her fear-based deal with them yet. but they come over a lot and pet the admiral a lot 

-they’re a casual watcher of ghost hunt uk, and they know of melanie cause paranormal nerds attract paranormal nerds, yknow? they’re officially introduced through georgie, and strike up a nice friendship from there (as long as they don’t bring up the archives around her too much).

-in terms of entities they’ve definitely got something lonely-related going on. something about feeling unable to form any meaningful relationships and worrying that no one truly cares about them yet at the same time not having enough motivation to try and form bonds on their own, so they mask their emotions with humor and sarcasm and push away people who would get close to them. peter lukas has them pegged pretty well and is the first supernatural thing to notably rattle them. 

-whether they actually become an avatar probably depends on the storyline

-other entities with an opinion on them…the hunt thinks they’re annoying. most of them probably think they’re annoying, actually, at some point, which is sort of their goal. the eye thinks they’re sort of interesting. the spiral likes them, for obvious reasons.

-they sometimes visit jon when he’s living at georgie’s house in the s3 era. this is around the same time they’re becoming close with georgie like That, meaning that on occasion the tables will turn and jon gets a chance to be the third wheel. there’s also genuine friendship stuff going on, though. they talk. they believe him.

-at some point, helen pays them a visit in her new form. and listen, as a gay horror fan, they’d be lying if they said they didn’t sort of vibe with it.

-she visits them a couple more times, seemingly just to talk. she claims the part of her that used to be og helen missed their company.

-also tim doesn’t die in any of the good storylines because it’s my canon now and i said so. :)

-same for sasha. they’re all safe, actually, and everything is fine,

-they do research and pass it along to the archives team when they can and field a lot of sad calls from jon. he claims they owe him for listening to them cry about helen when they thought she ghosted them. 

-during s5 and the cosmic apocalypse, they take up shelter inside helen’s hallways. they sort of just stay in a little side room that shuffles their things around occasionally but it’s better than being trapped in their own personal fear hell. 

-ze has a domain of their own (cause if you aren’t feeling fear you gotta be making it) but ze doesn’t like spending time there. it creeps zir out and makes zir feel bad. the domain itself is partially spiral partially eye partially lonely. the lights are too bright and the music is too loud and everyone’s looking at you but you can’t recognize anyone or talk to anyone, and every time you try to get away to find a moment of peace you start to forget who you are, and where you are, and what you’re doing, so you ask around to see if anybody knows but everyone still looks right through you and won’t answer your questions. it’s very you’re at the party by lemon demon.

-ze hangs out out with melanie and georgie sometimes during the Stuff but can’t really stay for too long out of fear of putting them in danger. ze stops helen from eating their followers.

-ze eventually runs into jon as he’s traveling back to london and makes a pitstop in the hell hotel. ze initially just lets jon and helen talk but things really don’t go well at all and ze has to step in before they start killing each other. ze convinces jon that helen is trying, and what she says isn’t always truthful but she’s not going to stand in his way if he wants to set the world back to normal. not if it would hurt zir in the process. jon is skeptical but he trusts zir.

-good ends: the apocalypse is over! yay! everyone lives! double yay! they move back into their house but helen still visits them a lot. possibly, they move in with georgie and melanie. whatever the storyline they get at least one girlfriend which is epic and cool for them. they continue to be best friends with jon and complain about things with each other as a love language.

#every day i am jealous of my tma s/i's love life #s/i talk #nyx on comms #ship: doorway to nowhere #ship: going ghost #tag: statement begins

[bigskydreaming]

Speaking of Riley and other friends who are excellent, allow me to take a moment to pimp some of their books if anyone’s got some spare coin and is looking for good reads while on lockdown.

Noteworthy by Riley Redgate

It’s the start of Jordan Sun’s junior year at the Kensington-Blaine Boarding School for the Performing Arts. Unfortunately, she’s an Alto 2, which—in the musical theatre world—is sort of like being a vulture in the wild: She has a spot in the ecosystem, but nobody’s falling over themselves to express their appreciation. So it’s no surprise when she gets shut out of the fall musical for the third year straight. But then the school gets a mass email: A spot has opened up in the Sharpshooters, Kensington’s elite a cappella octet. Worshiped . . . revered . . . all male. Desperate to prove herself, Jordan auditions in her most convincing drag, and it turns out that Jordan Sun, Tenor 1, is exactly what the Sharps are looking for.

Rio’s got two other books you should also check out, I just grabbed this one at random because they’re all great (though its actually ‘7 Ways We Lie’ that’s my personal fave because Reasons).

Forest of Souls by Lori M Lee

Sirscha Ashwyn comes from nothing, but she’s intent on becoming something. After years of training to become the queen’s next royal spy, her plans are derailed when shamans attack and kill her best friend Saengo.

And then Sirscha, somehow, restores Saengo to life.

Unveiled as the first soulguide in living memory, Sirscha is summoned to the domain of the Spider King. For centuries, he has used his influence over the Dead Wood—an ancient forest possessed by souls—to enforce peace between the kingdoms. Now, with the trees growing wild and untamed, only a soulguide can restrain them. As war looms, Sirscha must master her newly awakened abilities before the trees shatter the brittle peace, or worse, claim Saengo, the friend she would die for.

This one is the start of a new duology and doesn’t actually come out until June 23rd, but Lori’s got a couple other books out already that are also worth the read. Her Infinite series starts with Gates of Thread and Stone and has the first two books out, there will be a concluding third volume still to come. But I’m lucky enough to have gotten to read Forest of Souls in advance cuz Nyah nyah (I’m so mature, phear my age and wisdom) and its by faaaaar my favorite of hers to date, including more than just the other two books she’s had published so far, and just look at that cover. Ugh. I love it so much. 

(It wasn’t her original cover, actually, they originally wanted to go with this cover of Suck that made me go umm how do you say “Eww” in polite, and authors have little to no feedback they can give on the cover, but Lori took a shot and sent in some examples of other cover artists she really liked and thought had styles fitting her image of the book better, and they picked one of the ones she sent and commissioned a whole new cover, and voila, ended up going with the above cover in all its spooky, thematically ominous glory.) 

On The Edge of Gone by Corinne Duyvis

A thrilling, thought-provoking novel from one of young-adult literature’s boldest new talents. January 29, 2035. That’s the day the comet is scheduled to hit—the big one. Denise and her mother and sister, Iris, have been assigned to a temporary shelter outside their hometown of Amsterdam to wait out the blast, but Iris is nowhere to be found, and at the rate Denise’s drug-addicted mother is going, they’ll never reach the shelter in time. A last-minute meeting leads them to something better than a temporary shelter—a generation ship, scheduled to leave Earth behind to colonize new worlds after the comet hits. But everyone on the ship has been chosen because of their usefulness. Denise is autistic and fears that she’ll never be allowed to stay. Can she obtain a spot before the ship takes flight? What about her mother and sister? When the future of the human race is at stake, whose lives matter most?

Cory is actually one of my oldest friends lmao, like, I first met her through another writing friend when we both roleplayed on this messageboard X-Men: Evolution RPG over fifteen years ago, and just....somehow never lost track of each other through all our various hyper-fixations and divergent fandoms and even with years-long ‘vanishing from the internet’ periods by yours truly (I am was mysterious and enigmatic, hear me roar). This is actually her third published novel? Or maybe second, I forget the order....her first, Otherbound, is great too, she’s written a Guardians of the Galaxy tie-in novel for Marvel, and she’s got her next book, “The Art of Saving the World” coming out this September, and its soooo good and head-trippy and the premise is so mindfucky that I have no idea how she pulled it off as well as she did and its great and you will love it or you will answer to me (lol no you won’t, I am all talk, I bruise like a peach, don’t doxx me yo). But On The Edge of Gone remains my personal fave of hers, Denise is an in-text disabled autistic black girl and suuuuuuch a fantastic main character, and her love for her family against the backdrop of an apocalypse actually in its on-going stage, no post about it, is like.....unfortunately a little too prophetic in various ways, lolol, but like, timely as hell and resonates. 

Not Your Sidekick by C.B. Lee

Welcome to Andover, where superpowers are common, but internships are complicated. Just ask high school nobody, Jessica Tran. Despite her heroic lineage, Jess is resigned to a life without superpowers and is merely looking to beef up her college applications when she stumbles upon the perfect (paid!) internship--only it turns out to be for the towns most heinous supervillain. On the upside, she gets to work with her longtime secret crush, Abby, whom Jess thinks may have a secret of her own. Then theres the budding attraction to her fellow intern, the mysterious “M,” who never seems to be in the same place as Abby. But what starts as a fun way to spite her superhero parents takes a sudden and dangerous turn when she uncovers a plot larger than heroes and villains altogether.

I actually met C.B. on tumblr here, via this account, thanks to a mutual mutual, which just goes to show you never know who you might end up meeting on tumblr dot hellsite dot org, and only after that fact did we find out that we had various other mutual friends from our writing/publishing circles of friends, including Cory, lolol, so y’know....small world. But this series has three books out, with a fourth to come, and its such awesome fun, with superpower hijinks galore, an Asian protag and tons of LGBTQ+ supporting characters, trans superheroes, and compelling plots. She’s also writing Ben 10 comics for Boom! Studios, a comic book company that does original content but also publishes a ton of licensed properties like various other cartoons like Ben 10, the Power Rangers, etc, etc. And this reminds me there’s a certain story she was working on the last time we met up for coffee like, lololol probably three years ago now, which means I am way overdue to bug her about it and ask “Is it done yet is it done yet can I read it yet is it done yet” because I am a paragon of patience and a bastion of self-control, obvsly.

Anyway, here endeth the pimping of my friends, go forth and buy ye their novels, verily and such. Or y’know. Don’t. If you don’t want to be cool, I guess. Nerds. (LOL no but if you like my content and posts and topics I think you stand a better than average likelihood of enjoying at least one of the books by the aforementioned ladies, and you’d be supporting LGBTQ+ authors as there’s nary a straight among them. LOL, like I would ever have straight friends, hahahaha could you imagine, what would we even do).  

[vegalocity]

I wanted to do some designs that were more Magical Girl Esque for Miraculous Ladybug, and by the time I started drawing Chat it was officially a Sleepless Domain AU  because Sleepless Domain is a really interesting deconstruction of Magical Girl tropes and conventions without being overly hopeless like other deconstructions usually are.

(if you’re thinking ‘where’s Nino?’ he’s at the bottom of the cut so please don’t reblog this asking that)

for those who aren’t usually into webcomics, here’s the basic rundown and how the ML crew would fit into it:

The world of sleepless domain is... I suppose one could call it a post-post apocalypse along the limnes of Nausicaa and the Valley of the wind. Where something deeply magical and horrible ravaged the lang long ago. But this one city, currently unnamed, has been rebuilt in thanks to the magic they have sustained. This magic takes two forms. The barriers, and the Magical Girls.

The Barriers are in fact two of a kind, the outer barrier and the inner barrier. The outer barrier keeps the monsters out for most of the day, it’s a huge dome like structure that surrounds the city, no one can go in or out when the outer barrier is up. But the Outer barrier needs recharging for about 4 hours every night, from 10pm to 2am. And when the outer barrier goes down, the inner barrier forms. The inner barrier is a sort of seal along every closed surface of the city, it can be breached if a monster is strong enough or has enough time to chip at it, but it can also be opened from the other side by the people inside. 

Which is where the Magical Girls come in. It’s currently rooted in mystery just how and why they get their powers, but when a girl gets her powers she’s usually around age 14, where she gets a mysterious, cryptic dream (some claim their dreams are creepy or depressing, while others find them almost serene) which ends with something, everyone knows there’s more to their dream but can’t remember it for the life of them. and when they wake up their hair and/or eyes have changed to some unnatural color, and a mark of the same color has been left somewhere on their body.  The powers usually leave when they become a young adult. it’s not been specified if there’s an exact age, but the 18-20ish area seems most likely.

The Magical girls are tasked with fighting the monsters as the outer barrier goes down so as to make sure they don’t attack any helpless civillians on the inside of the inner barrier. there’s a lot of commentary on how Magical Girls are treated as both quasi-diefied saviors and straight up commodities throught the story. And as such it’s encouraged that Magical girls work in teams to maximize profit. 

So this is the real shit on how Team Miraculous fits into the story

So Team Miraculous is a Non thematic team, in that despite all of them being based off of animals, they weren’t recruited with the intent on being a matched set. Thematic teams are usually shown to be thematic by having similar outfits, complimentary color schemes, and matching Marks.

Team Miraculous’ Animal theme is mostly coincidence.

So, as for the Ml kids themselves:

Marinette is the daughter of a former magical girl, Sabine Cheng AKA Shooting Star from the thematic Team Star. Sabine was... one of those kids that the city doesn’t like to talk about, someone who had a kid while she was still an active magical girl. Thankfully Team Star was only quasi popular and more of a ‘cult following’ than more overtly famous, so when Sabine quietly retired less of a fuss was kicked up than it could have been. It’s not a very common thing to have a kid while still a magical girl, but there is a precedent. When Marinette was born Sabine’s magic left her, and went into Marinette. There wasn’t much of a change other than her eyes. the color of Sabine’s magic. So when Marinette got The Dream it was inevitable. Sabine herself mostly encouraged Marinette to persue becoming a proper Magical Girl and as it turns out, the Magic that had left Sabine is now hers to channel.

Miraculous Ladybug’s power is not only Unlimited Lucky Charms (because we have no need for ML’s nerfing of the main characters anymore) but also ‘Lucky Streak’ which is based on her PV powers a little. Basically for a limited time whatever she’s attempting to do will turn out well for her, like the marvel lady Domino. 

For the sale of a Five Man Band, and also the iconique nature of the black Cat, Adrien had to be here too, so since there’s already one instance of ‘trans women are real women you fuckwads’ in Sleepless Domain, i’m throwing another in the ring. Adriana Agreste. However unlike Zoe, Adriana was thankfully allowed to come out on her own terms. Mr. Agreste took it... surprisingly well. It was when, two weeks later, that Adriana woke up with black hair and her scleras turned green that he freaked out. THAT’s the fight of the century right there. that’s Daddy dearest confining her to her room, insisting any tutor he could hire would be EONS better than anything at the Magical Girls Only Highschool in the city, and that’s when Adriana sneaks out. She’s not sneaking out to go to Future’s Promisce, she’s sneaking out to register herself she wants to fight, to have this peice of her mother, and maybe understand her sacrifice a little better, her father finds out of course, but adriana’s refusing to stop, After she got registered her counsilor offered to move her into Future’s Promisce’s dorms. So she’s given Gabriel an ultimatum. Either he lets her go to public school and fight, or she’s moving out, needless to say, Gabriel relents. And that’s how she meets Ladybug and the two become the founding members of Team Miraculous.

As Miraculous Cat Her powers have been tweaked a bit from canon. Altering Cataclysm to only work on Monsters, but only on monsters that have solid physical forms. If she can grab hold if it she can turn it into dust. But this pwoer takes a lot out of her. She can either do it one time a night on a large monster, or multiple times a night on small monsters. But alongside that she has that Calamity power that was hinted at in earlier notes and the PV, in that she can summon bad luck and cast it on monsters. Creating damages based on their surroundings. 

Alya’s as she always was as a character backstory. Her mother’s a chef, her father works with animals (though likely he just runs a shelter instead of a zoo since you know... dome city) But her older sister is an MG who just very recently lost her magic and is going to college. Alya still wants what she always wanted, to be a journalist and discover the truth. After what Nora went through as a Solo Magical Girl she wants to be the champion of the MG’s, since most news sites tend to lean into the idea of magical girls as they’ve been socially percieved as, Alya wants to show the world that magical Girls really are normal girls. That they don’t just exist to fight and die for the city. They have their own hopes and dreams. Sleepless DOmain seems to have decided that home technology ended around the mid 90′s since CD’s and corded phones are the norm, so Alya’s Self published journalism outlet is a newspaper instead of a Blog. She’s barely into making the deals with the printing company when she gets the Dream, and decides that’s even better, giving the city a first person perspective as a Magical girl. She opts to join her childhood friend Marinette’s team and become Miraculous Fox, since they’re already non thematic and it’d be easier to work with someone she already knew.

Alya still has an illusion based power of course, unlimited Mirage and all that. but most notably she’s the recon lady. able to summon a small orange fox that can do low level damage to enemies and more importantly she can see through its eyes so they don’’t have to rush into battles blind. She communicates with her fox with her flute when the little guy’s away from her. And she’s almost always seen taking notes on battles and what she learns from other MG’s for the next edition of The Magical Girl Banner

Chloe, of course, doesn’t initially go into this with the right intent in mind. when she was a kid she’s often try to dye her hair and draw marks on her skin in marker, claiming that she got her magic early. She wants the notoriety and fame that comes with being a Magical girl, and using the unfounded rumor that her family is actually descendant from the Founder herself as a reason why she DESERVES to get her magic early. of course, when her frequent target arinette is first to transfer out of their class due to actually BECOMING a magical girl, Chloe is pissed an flips a 180 on her stance, saying that being an MG is overrated anyway. then Cesaire transfers out too, then Lahiffe is asked to be their group’s manager. Chloe is so enraged by seemingly everyone around her becoming MG’s and not her, that whens he finally DOES get her magic she almost turns it down. especially since, for all her attempts to look like she got her powers early, they actually developed in her a year LATER than they should have. Straight up when she comes to class the next day to boast her ACTUAL magic, nobody belives her, thinking she simply put in yellow eye contacts. her hair doesn’t look particularly darker than it was before, her scleras don’t turn black until she’s transformed, and her mark is barely visible when stood against her skin. She ends up on Team Miraculous initially out of necessity, but that’s only the START of her character arc.

Chloe’s magic is more similar to Queen Wasp than Queen Bee. not unlike Alya she has a swarm of bees at her disposal, magic bees of course, they in fact help her fight. her most notable move is sending them swarming on monsters. But instead of paralyzing anything, the bees will turn into small lightning bolts, turning into an inescapable fury. She probably COULD use her bees to paralyze a monster, but that’s more being a team player than Chloe can do right now.

And Finally Kagami. Kagami is also as she always was. a long standing family, rumored to have had Magical girls in the line since Magical Girls first came about. The eldest daughter in every generation of theirs has become a Magical girl, and that runs true again in Kagami. She was groomed form childhood to fight, learning swordsmaship, archery, fighting with a bo staff, and learning any and all magical theory. her family are one of the ones that worship the deified idea of the founder, so it’s no surprise that Her Mother’s first step after Kagami becomes a magical girl is to get her registered and enroll her at Future’s Promisce. What she DIDN’T expect was her mother to dump her off at the dorms, give her a quick ‘behave yourself’ talk, and then leave. Kagamis’ mother was the second oldest, the only reason she inhereited the family name was the fact that her sister had died long ago. Kagami justifies being arguably abandoned at age 14 with her mother holding a secret resentment toward magical girls. The magic that took her sister away, and threatens to take her daughter too. That’s why she traiend Kagami but then sent her away. that’s why her life makes sense. She’s initially against joining Team Miraculous, that None of the Tsurugi’s before her had ever been in a team. But through her own lonlieness, about two years after she got her powers, she gives in and lets herself go from ‘Dragon’s Fang’ to ‘Miraculous Dragon’

Kagami’s got the sharpest deviation from her Canon power. I really coudln’t think of a way to make the Magic aspect work, so the best I’ve got is the transformative aspect. That’s right, Kagami’s magic lets her literally transform into a dragon. She has a sword to fight with when not transformed but the bulk of her magic is in the dragon form. She’s a mix of japanese dragon and western dragon, I don’t have the design finalized yet, but she’s got fire breathing and gold aesthetic, but also more directly japanese looking in design. 

And as a bonus for sitting through all of this absolute garbage:

Nino, long time friend of Marinette’s was asked to be her team’s manager when they realized they couldn’t represent themselves.He instantly clicked with Adriana and became best buds. After which he was given the honorary title of Miraculous Turtle.

As a deal with Mr. Agreste for him not to hire a more experienced manager, Nino has to look presentable when doing managerial things. That means a suit. He can wear the hat and headphones, mostly because he hides them when They’re going to grab Adriana at around 9, but he has to wear a suit if he wants anyone to take him seriously.

#Miraculous Ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #Adrien Agreste #chloe bourgeois #alya cesaire #Kagami Tsurugi #Crossovers are neat #sleepless domain #no seriously go read the comic i cannot do the brilliance of the worldbuilding justice in ONE tumblr post #Nino Lahiffe #kinda #he's just an Omake so idk if he counts #crossovers #Team Miraculous

[echoes-of-the-clockwork]

Book One: Death (Noctis x Reader) Chapter One

I’m literally just copying this from my Wattpad :) I’ll try to include all the photos and gifs for this series, too, on here.

A/n: Welcome, my lovelies! In this x reader series, you only get to choose your name and eye color. Hair color will already be determined as to what role of the Four Horsemen the book follows. 

FYI-NOCTIS AND LUNA ARE NOT ENGAGED IN THIS STORY!!!

I hope you all enjoy this short series! Love you all!!! •••••••••••••••••••

"So..." Prompto muttered, glancing around at their surroundings. "Why're we walking through an abandoned tomb again?"

Noctis sighed at knowing he would have to explain the circumstances again to his best friend. "I don't know, Prom. All my dad said was to head to the Duscae tomb that lied below the wetlands. He didn't say what we would find, but he said we needed to come here."

"His Majesty wouldn't send us on a wild goose-chase through some abandoned tomb for no reason. There must be something we can find down here," Gladio stated, coming to defend his King.

"Though void of daemons, do exceed caution. There possibly may be other foes afoot," Ignis exclaimed as he followed behind the prince through a narrow tunnel. Their flashlights pierced the darkness as the tunnel seemed to be leading them in a certain direction. No branching paths presented themselves as the air around them chilled the boys to the bone.

Prompto's teeth chattered as he rubbed his arms in desperation for warmth. "I-It's freezing down here. What could we possibly find down here?"

"Don't know, but we're gonna find out," the bodyguard said. "You scared?"

"N-No!" The blonde boy denied with a shaky voice.

Gladio snickered and grinned at the younger boy. "You think the dead are gonna wake and attack us?"

"What if they do?!" The sharpshooter wails.

Noctis rolled his eyes at his shield's words. "You seriously think that's gonna happen? That's not even possible."

The brute knew he couldn't scare the prince, but he did make a good point. "You never know. We left the city only a few days ago. Who the hell knows what forces are really at work around us."

The tactician behind the raven-haired boy agreed with the bodyguard. "Indeed. Compared to those in the Duscae, Leide, and Cleigne regions, a sheltered life is what we've experienced."

"Seriously, Specs? You're falling for-" Noctis fell silent when he heard the sound of heavy footsteps echoing behind them. The four boys froze, turning to see if their flashlights could find someone in the darkness. When the sound grew in intensity, they realized it was more than one person by how loud the footfalls were. "Shit..." Noctis murmured.

Unbeknownst to the prince, a figure was standing behind him. Before he could react, the boy was grabbed and dragged into the darkness with a scream. "Noct!" His three friends shouted, searching the narrow tunnel for the prince. With no luck, they ran down the tunnel and away from the approaching footsteps of those behind them.

As they ran, the remaining three boys were picked off one by one by the same figure that had dragged Noctis away only a few minutes earlier.

In the blink of an eye, all four boys were reunited inside a chamber that was well-lit with torches. Prompto was still frightened as he spotted a skeletal warrior looming above him.

The boy screamed, his legs shaking as he collapsed to the floor. Noctis ran to his friend's side and helped him up. "Calm down, Prompto. It's not gonna hurt you."

"Yes, it is!" The shutterbug whined, gripping onto Noctis tightly. "Just look at its weapons!"

Gladio and Ignis were ready to summon their weapons, but the prince stopped them. "Like I said, it isn't gonna hurt anyone! Just listen, dammit!" Prompto sealed his lips, but the fear remained in his being as the warrior watched him and his friends with glowing eyes.

"Shall I help explain the matter at hand?" A feminine voice asked. Prompto, Gladio, and Ignis turned to see a girl with long sable locks, (e/c) eyes, and cladded in a strange outfit.

Noctis sighed, accepting the girl's help. "Please, do."

"Brauhn, step down," she ordered the skeletal warrior. It nodded in response and walked over to her side, acting as her bodyguard. "You four are the ones King Regis told me of. I never expected to see you this soon, though."

The prince had already learned of who the girl was when she had dragged him out of the tunnel. "This is why we're down here. This is Death."

Prompto swallowed nervously. "Is that really your name?"

"Well, no. You could say it's more of a title than a name. My true name is (Y/n). A pleasure to finally meet you all." (Y/n) bowed politely and Brauhn followed her action. The sable-haired girl glanced at Ignis and saw the bespectacled advisor had pieced together the puzzle with such little information. "I see you catch on quick. Quite impressive, I must say."

Noctis, Prompto, and Gladio were now the ones who were confused. The brute glanced at Ignis in curiosity. "What’s going on, Iggy?"

The tactician adjusted his glasses before clearing his throat. "We stand before the embodiment of Death, one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse."

"Hey, I've read that story!" Prompto shouted. "But, it doesn't mention four women."

(Y/n) laughed lightly. "The stories you read are false tales. I, along with my three sisters, make up the Horsemen. If you wish to know the true tale, I will gladly share it whenever."

"Another time, perhaps," Ignis stated.

(Y/n) nodded and soon was called out by Gladio. "Why did you drag us here?"

"You are being followed," she simply responds.

"By whom?" The strategist inquired.

"The ones you call "Imperials." They've been following your moves for quite a while now. But, they cannot reach this chamber unless granted access by me," the Horseman responds.

"That explains the footsteps we heard earlier," the prince murmured, releasing his hold on Prompto. The blonde's fear remained as he refused to move from the spot he fell. He couldn't help but stare at Brauhn, fearing the undead warrior would strike him down if (Y/n) were to leave.

The black-haired girl saw the fear in the sharpshooter and promptly placed a hand on the skeleton beside her. "You've done your job well, Brauhn. Now, dispose of our unwanted guests." In a mere second, the warrior was gone. When a few seconds passed, they heard the screams of the Imperials from the tunnel. Ignoring the screams, (Y/n) faced the blonde with a warm smile. "Do you feel better after I've sent Brauhn away?"

In response, Prompto nods and moves his legs. He stands between Gladio and Ignis as Noctis chats away with (Y/n). Suddenly, the young prince reaches out and pokes the Horseman on the cheek. The girl's (e/c) eyes blink owlishly as she was confused as to why Noctis was poking her. Seeing her confusion, the raven-haired boy snorts with laughter. "Just checking."

"Just checking what?" She questioned.

"Some stories say that if you touch Death, you become one of the dead and join his army of skeletal warriors. Others say you turn to ash."

(Y/n) sighs and playfully swats the prince's hand away. "As I said earlier, those tales are lies. Although, I do have the touch of death." She walks over and picks a small flower that was growing through a crack in the chamber's stone floor. With her other hand, (Y/n) touches a single petal and the flower slowly begins to wilt. Eventually, the flora crumbles away into a pile of ash. "It's a power that I can easily control. Death is just a touch away."

"Um, (Y/n)?" Prompto spoke up.

"Yes?"

"Are there any parts of the stories that are true?"

"Hmm..." The Horseman falls into deep thought before answering. "I do wield a scythe and have a loyal steed. Besides that, everything else is a fabrication of someone's imagination."

Prompto gasped. "I-Is it undead, too?"

"Yes, Thanatos is dead. He's relatively a normal horse besides the vacant eyes. Since we have time until Brauhn deals with the Imperials, I'll tell you the true story of the Four Horsemen right now."

"Yes. It would be in our best interest to pass the time," Ignis stated. Even though he was against the storytelling earlier, the advisor knew they wouldn't be able to leave until the Niflheim soldiers were dealt with.

The four boys gathered around (Y/n) as she sat on a crumbling stone chair and listened to the true tale of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.

***

Four souls were pulled from the four corners of Hell, gifted with abilities no human, god, nor daemon could comprehend. Each soul was given one of four aliases that accompanied their powers-War, Famine, Pestilence, and Death. Now dubbed the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse by the Daemon King, Aeshema, they were sent to a world between the living and the dead known as the Inner Sanctum-a domain where the Four Horsemen would reside and keep order of the monsters who relish to break the seal preventing them from entering the world of the living and quenching their bloodlust.

With the seal preventing the monsters from escaping to the land of the living shattered, the Horsemen were tasked with traveling to the bustling world to hunt down the monsters that escaped and kill them before humans fell victim to their bloodlust. Once each Horseman slew their share of the monsters, they would be granted passage back to the Inner Sanctum.

Once the Four Horsemen reached the gateway and entered the portal, they arrived in the land of the living. Famine, Death, Pestilence, and War went their separate ways and disguised themselves as humans in order to walk among the living and hunt down the monsters incognito without startling the lives around them.

***

The four boys were silent for a few minutes before Gladio questioned (Y/n). "Is that it?"

The girl glanced towards the brute. "Well, yes. The story doesn't have an ending because you're currently living it without knowing it. In truth, the story is no tale you tell. In fact, you are reciting true events that have unfolded and continue to unfold."

"Does that mean your sisters are on Eos, too?" Prompto wondered.

(Y/n) shook her head with a frown. "No. They've already returned to the Inner Sanctum. Famine, War, and Pestilence have already done their duties. I, on the other hand, haven't."

"A complication of sorts?" Ignis asked.

"Yes. There's a group of monsters known as "Wendigos" that I have failed to find on Eos. There location is unknown and I've no clue of where they reside."

"Then, why're you down here?" The blonde shutterbug inquired.

"It's quiet and away from prying eyes. No human would ever wander in here voluntarily... except for you four," (Y/n) said.

A few minutes of silence passed before Brauhn appeared at Death's side. Blood covered the skeletal warrior's armor as he sheathed his axes. (Y/n) smiled and clapped her hands together. "Excellent work, Brauhn. Now, let's discuss what brings you four here. I'm aware of your relations to His Majesty, but he did not mention why he was sending you all my way."

"Oh, uh..." Noctis mumbled, realizing he and the others failed to mention as to why they were looking for her. "Dad said you could help us. Well, he didn't really specify what we would find, only that it would help."

"Help you with what?"

"With our journey," the prince responded.

"An alliance with you would provide us a connection to the royal tombs and to an ally we can trust," Ignis said.

Gladio smirked slightly. "It'd be nice to have an ally with your powers."

(Y/n) hooked her thumb and index finger around her chin, wondering what she should do. Pacing back and forth for a few seconds, she smiled as she made up her mind. "Alright. I'll join you. It'll give me a chance to search for the Wendigo, as well."

Beside Noctis, Prompto was pointing to Brauhn with a shaky finger. "Is he comin' along, too?"

The sable-haired girl snickered. "No. Brauhn will stay here." At her words, the undead warrior's body crumbled into a pile of bones. Before his head fell, (Y/n) caught it and placed it on top of a stone. She adjusted the helmet before facing the boys. "Let's get going."

#final fantasy xv #ffxv x reader #Noctis x reader #Noctis Lucis Caelum x reader #prompto argentum #gladiolus amicitia #ignis scientia #crosspost

[pen-emue]

He’s Earned That

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21259214

Martin is alone. Or at least he tries to be. The Beholding far above makes it difficult, of course. In this new world, all are watched. Still, he takes solace from the fact that compared to the suffering around him, he must be of little interest to it. He is unharmed—magically, miraculously—and his heart is far too raw for him to truly embrace The Lonely. Loss is more the domain of The Desolation, after all.

Maybe that is why he finds himself wandering through the smoldering fields of what had probably once been Scotland. It is all a blur. How long has it been? Days? Weeks? The fog closes around him sometimes but The Eye watches, even there. This place is a battleground. The Desolation clashed with The Slaughter here, before being forced to retreat. They’d scorched the earth as they went, leaving nothing but fear and loss. It is as blank and monotonous as The Lonely but he knows it’s not. This is the world now.

They are upon him before he notices; a group of mud-splattered soldiers, looking as if they’ve stepped from the screen of an old war movie. On the ground beside him, a tape recorder turns on. He smashes it with his boot. The leader is asking him questions, bloodlust in his bloodshot eyes. Martin is barely listening. Staring down the barrel of the old-fashioned riffle, Martin realizes he has no fear of The End. There’s no way he’ll get off that easy, though. It is The Slaughter here, not Terminus, and he has no wish to fight its war.

“I’m just passing through,” he says, lamely. “I’m a civilian.”

There is laughter then, and accusations of espionage. However, Martin notices it comes only from the captain. The others are too still, too silent. The feeling of being watched crawls up Martin’s spine. How this is different from before, he could not articulate, but it is. The men and women in their army fatigues encircled them. They are all staring, but not at him. The captain trails off as he notices. Hundreds of hungry eyes watch him (the Slaughter consumes its own so easily.) The captain yells accusations. Apparently, he is a spy for The Lonely, or perhaps for The Eye. Perhaps, the captain suggests, he is some unholy union of both.

Is he an avatar now? Martin realizes he doesn’t care. Perhaps in this new world, no one is… or everyone.

“Not willingly,” Martin says.

Of course, no one pays attention.

The soldiers do not attack their captain as Martin knew he wishes them to. They just watch. However, when he turns his gun on Martin again, he collapses, screaming into the dirt. His anguished cries echo across the silent wasteland, easily heard by all who’d care to listen. His comrades watch him writhe, uncaring. Marin wonders what he’s seeing. Perhaps The Buried… or perhaps just The End. He doesn’t care.

No one notices when he leaves. Why would they? Adjusting his pack, he continues on towards… towards… he isn’t sure yet. But he doesn’t feel like stopping either.

In a world of horrors, he travels safely. After a while, even the monsters stop trying. Perhaps even those truest embodiments of the powers can feel fear.

~

He eventually finds himself back at The Magnus Institute. Where else would he have gone? It is much the same as he remembers it, even though the city around it has been warped so drastically. On instinct, he goes up to the office. It had been his for some time after all, borrowing it from Peter, who’d been borrowing it from Elias. Elias is here, but it quickly becomes clear that won’t be a problem. He sits curled against the wall, cowering. Martin can see he has been there for some time, probably since the ritual. His usually smug face is frozen in a mask of terror.

Martin listened to the tape. Even among the destruction, it had been intact, as if something had left it for him. He knows that this smug, evil, pathetic man is to blame for what has become of reality. For a moment he wants to hurt him, but this is quickly pushed aside by the realization that nothing he can do will compare with whatever he’s already experiencing. Jonah’s stolen body has begun to decompose, but Martin knows he’s still alive. He knows he will be long after all of his fleshy vessels have been reduced to dust. Even with centuries to prepare, even with all the knowledge in the world, Jonah had been too stupid to see this coming. It seems obvious to Martin that it was not a good idea to create a god who despises you. What did The Eye care for loyalty? It had no more need for Jonah. It had its Archivist.

When Basira finds him, he is still staring at Elias’s stricken body.

“Martin!” Her fear and surprise fade away quickly. “You look… well.” It is an accusation.

She is injured, tense, clutching her pistol like a talisman. He is untouched.

He thinks about what to say. He thinks about slipping away. But suddenly he feels more real than he has in weeks, and he knows if he opens his mouth it will be sobs that escape. Eventually, he breaks; both the silence and his illusion of uncaring. He cries.

The Magnus Institute appears to be a shelter, of sorts, for its former employees. It makes sense that in The Eye’s world those touched by The Beholding have managed to protect themselves. Basira brings him to a room in the archives, his old room. Melanie and Georgie follow them in. Perhaps they truly do care, or maybe its curiosity, or voyeuristic pleasure in his breakdown.

He tells them, of course. It is hard to keep secrets in this place.

“It’s my fault,” he easily admits, but the rest is harder.

He has seen the love of his life consumed by something terrible. Jon is gone. What is left in his place has torn reality to shreds. And this monster, this avatar-of-avatars, will not let him grieve in solitude. He has felt it watching him since he ran from it. Then again, he’s not special in that regard.

He never asked for its protection. All he wants from it is for it to return Jon, but he knows that is the one thing it cannot give. To be plagued by this presence, this echo, it is worse than just having lost him.

Martin remembers Elias’s condescending words, as he sealed his own fate.

“You will keep an eye on him when all this is over, won’t you? He’s earned that.”

One last curse from that terrible man.

It is Basira, in her calm logic, who eventually gets through to him. So maybe Martin was the last nail in the world’s coffin. Maybe he is the last scar on the watcher’s crown. But, like everyone living in this hell, he will have to face his fears eventually. And maybe… just maybe… he has the power to fix things. How infuriatingly ironic that Peter had been right, after all. That Martin might be the only one capable of turning back the apocalypse. It is probably a false hope, but at least it’s hope. Maybe Jon’s still in there.

#tma #tma spoilers #the magnus archives #fic #angst #long post

[scoutception]

Megami Tensei 2: SMT 0.9

Megami Tensei 2 is such a change from the original that it’s almost kind of eerie. Calling it SMT 0.9 is no joke; so many story, design, and gameplay elements that would go on to become mainstays in proper SMT were introduced here, though there’s still enough different that it still feels distinct and, well, weird. As with the MT1 review, I’m covering the SNES remake of the first two games, though ultimately it’s not a huge distinction. At the least, it gives me an excuse to show early Jack Frost.

Story

After how minimal MT1′s story was, MT2 has an almost surprising amount of it. It begins with the world being devastated in a nuclear apocalypse, and a horde of demons from Makai, the demon world, using the chaos to launch an invasion and conquer what remains of the world, with the demon Bael in particular taking over the remains of Tokyo. After that grim introduction... you’re suddenly playing the first game again, complete with the music, the locations, and even the demon negotiation, except with an overhead view for exploration instead of constant first person. Thankfully, it turns out to be just a video game called Devil Busters being played by a normal teenager within an underground shelter built under former Tokyo, 35 years after the nuclear war. It’s actually a fairly comfy and safe location, but the main protagonist has a pushy friend who keeps bugging him to beat the Minotaur, who, also thankfully, is a pushover compared to the first game. Doing so causes a sequence of events so utterly baffling I still don’t feel like I actually properly experienced it even today, which sets the tone for the rest of the game perfectly. This game is just weird, though that’s not to say the first game didn’t have weird stuff, like Beelzebub just being a regular sized fly. Wish I was making that up.

As it turns out, Devil Busters was keeping a demon sealed within itself; Pazuzu, a servant of God. For freeing him, Pazuzu declares the protagonist and his friend messiahs, who will save humanity from the demons. He gifts them both COMPs and the Demon Summoning Program, and teaches the friend magic, before informing them that freeing him has also allowed other demons to invade the shelter through the computer they were playing the game on, and lastly transfers the demons they recruited within the game to their COMPs before promptly running off. After grabbing some guns and killing the leader of the invasions, they set out to the outside world, following the guidance of Pazuzu. After directing them to join with Orthrus, essentially filling Cerberus’ usual role as the power dog demon of the early game, Pazuzu orders the messiahs to kill a witch who has taken residence in Tokyo Tower. Upon confronting her, however, she reveals she was actually a former servant of Pazuzu herself, who deduced he simply intended to overthrow Bael and take his place as ruler of Tokyo, and convinces the protagonist of this. The friend, however, has completely bought in to Pazuzu’s words, and refuses to be swayed, taking Orthrus and leaving the protagonist and his new partner to.... wander around Tokyo aimlessly, collecting pillars and maybe killing Bael along the way.

After a lot of aimless wandering around and events, such as killing Pazuzu and discovering the friend has been transformed into the rather ineffectual Dark Hero, discovering Lucifer frozen in ice (something I’ll get to a bit later), meeting Mr. Suzuki, the president of a company of.... something, and randomly getting eaten by a living island, the party defeats Bael, who promptly turns into a frog that the party for some reason can decide to take. This is the most important frog to ever exist. Afterwards, using all the random pillars they got along the way, the party travels to the Makai, where Lucifer awaits after the Dark Hero freed him from his icy prison. After trudging through several areas of the Makai, the heroes arrive at the domain of Beelzebub, who isn’t exactly doing much better than he was in MT1.

There are many major story spoilers from this point on, just as a warning.

If the Bael frog was taken along, this is the beginning of many choices on whether or not you’ll be able to get the good ending, or be locked into the bad ending (if the frog wasn’t taken, you’re automatically locked into the bad ending). Beelzebub reveals that he and Bael are demonized halves, split by God, and asks that he be allowed to fuse with the frog to regain their true form. Doing so causes Baal to join your party for the confrontation with Lucifer, who himself reveals many things.

Lucifer was originally cast out of heaven for providing wisdom to humanity, who then worshiped him over God in the hopes of obtaining unsurpassed knowledge, and in anger, God, or YHVH, as he’s also referred to, ordered his servant, Satan, to cause the nuclear war to wipe out all of humanity. Lucifer, apparently feeling more heroic after his own round of being the villain, offers to join you in defeating the actual true enemy, Satan, who has been masquerading as Mr. Suzuki. Now, the ending of MT1 has Lucifer claim that Nakajima was being manipulated by God in his attempts to defeat Lucifer, and, assuming the bonus dungeon added in the remake was done, Cerberus would comment on His ambitions as well. Said Cerberus is also obtainable in an alternate version of Devil Busters accessed later in one of the visitable districts, tying the games together rather sensibly, though I’m unsure if Lucifer’s claims were in the original version of MT1. Regardless, Lucifer is required to access the good ending. Denying his request will force a difficult battle with him, with Beelzebub also being fightable earlier assuming his request was also denied.

After traveling through Suzuki’s company, and encountering another corrupted deity, Asura, who will either be healed by Lucifer and join the party, or be fought, Satan reveals himself, and, after being defeated, warns of His power. If the player was locked into the bad ending earlier, the game ends with YHVH revealing himself to the hero and his partner, sing praises of them and transporting them to his Millennium Kingdom, transformed into gods, but left unable to save the rest of humanity. If Lucifer is present, however, the party continues on to confront YHVH, who attempts to bribe them with godhood in exchange for turning on Lucifer. If they accept, the same ending as the one previously described happens, but if they refuse, He battles them Himself, and, surprisingly, His design is very, very close to His design from SMT2 onward, more than any other character in the game.

With the death of YHVH, the demons vanish from the human world, though not before He warns of being part of the Great Will, which shall seek to avenge Him. After revisiting the shelter, and discovering that the Devil Busters game was designed by Nakajima himself, the hero and his partner lead an exodus to the outside world, remaining vigilant against any threat that may arise again.

While the story isn’t as detailed as most of the later games, and there’s many long segments that lack any story of note, it’s fascinating for a game from the Famicom. Elements that endure in SMT even today, like Lucifer being the active enemy of YHVH, and a self styled ally of humanity, Satan being the most trusted servant of Him, YHVH being a complete jerk in general, rival deities of YVHV being demonized, even the presence of the Messians and Gaeans, though minor, all originate from this game. SMT owes a lot to this game.

Gameplay

The gameplay is very similar to the original MT, though are many added features that would also become mainstay elements in SMT. Instead of merely melee weapons, guns have been added, although they’re rather underpowered compared to melee. Elementals and three way fusions have been added for demon summoning, though, in my experience, many of the fusion exclusive demons are underpowered compared to some of the demons acquired during the story, especially Lucifer himself. Also newly added is an overhead view on the world map, which helps just make the game feel less, cramped and restricted, compared to the first.

There are many locations to explore, and the pacing during the Tokyo sections feels oddly fast to me, but most locations at least have events like a demon mind controlling a town of Gaeans, and the hero’s arm being severed attempting to take one of the pillars, forcing him to get a mechanical replacement arm from the resident mad scientist, which also functions as a COMP capacity upgrade.

While the game is pretty fun during the Tokyo parts, the Makai parts quickly take a nosedive. Whether it be irritating gimmicks for each area, such as a section where the COMP does not working at all, preventing you from summoning demons before entering or, you know, using the map, and a section that deprives you of your Partner, to world map areas that are pitch black and very difficult to navigate, to even roadblocks that can only be cleared with specific demons that the game doesn’t exactly jump to tell you about. It severely damages what would otherwise be a pretty fun game.

Sound and graphics

The graphics aren’t much different from the first game overall, though the change in areas allows for new environments like abandoned buildings, which are usually more interesting to look at. The world map graphics are pretty good, and definitely fit a ruined Tokyo and, well, Hell. Plus, the main character has a very snazzy cape, which is worth points by itself.

The most interesting part of the graphics, again, are the demons. This was the first game with Kazuma Kaneko doing the demon designs, though he himself isn’t too proud of them. While some, like YHVH and Jack Frost above, are decently close to their final, iconic designs, others, like Lucifer and Satan, are a bit, questionable. They’re almost there, but not quite.

While the sound is also about the same as the first game, the music is greatly improved. The original Famicom version used a memory chip that, among other improvements, allowed for greatly improved sound, making for one of the richest soundtracks of the 8-bit era, which also translated well to the SNES. The battle themes, especially the final boss theme, are much better, and the exploration themes are great.

Conclusion

In the end, however, I still think this game is not recommended. While a big improvement over the first game, and a very important game in the series, the design is still fairly archaic, and missing quite a few elements that make SMT so notable, such as the law, chaos, and neutral alignment system. While interesting to go through, you’re ultimately better off sticking with SMT proper.

If you managed to get through this gigantic wall of a review, thank you very much. My next review shall be something from a different franchise, though for I’m unsure as to which yet. All the same, I shall return. Until next time.

-Scout

#shin megami tensei #gaming #long post #game review

[hoodienot]

yA ASKED FOR IT, here’s the basic, sorry mobile user

FIRSTLY THIS IS GONNA BE WRITTEN POORLY YAY AND I’M NOT GONNA FIX IT BECAUSE IM TIRED

Okay so the actual name of the story is Dogs of War: the 3 Domains or short to DOW3D just to clear that shit up because its not just call “dog story lol”

There’s actually a reason they are all dogs instead of like people or something. The species they are is known as Gnolls (pronounce ‘noles’) even though they are technically hyneas in the DnD canon, Gnolls are sometimes depicted as simple “canine” like beast people. Hence dogs (please I made this story during my “sparkledog” phaze on DA sooo yea aint that tragic)

There’s 3 Domains (aka worlds/universe/kingdoms) known as Earth, Heaven and Hell and they are at war with each other, hence the title of the story

Earth is the largest domain that’s inhabited by the Fae (Fairy) Gnolls, they have the ability to control elements (think like avatar the last airbender kind of stuff) and also have “bug like” features, usually its wings, antenna and insect like tails. They tends to be very colorful (there color usually matching their emotion to some degree). 

The Fae live in a medieval like world where its not super technological or scientifically inclined, they rely more on the earth itself and are very respectful of animals, plants and even the grounds/crust of the planet. They worship a goddess simply known as “Mother” who represents the Earth itself and is consider “Mother Nature”.

Heaven is a smaller domain ruled by the Angel Gnolls. They have the ability to control countless energies and sometimes even time and space itself (think like lasers and psychics). They have bird like features usually being the wings and a feathered tail, they also have metallic rings that for on their body and hover just above their head (a halo of course)

The Angels as a very advance sci-fi like society, almost fully automated, they citizen are however very rule-obsessed, and watch as much boundaries as possible to protect them from corruption or violent arising (within their own people).

Hell is a medium sized domain fulled with the Demon Gnolls. They have the ability to control unnatural forces and the minds of others. (just think demons and yea there ya go). They tend to have lizard / dragon like features sporting wings, a long scaly tail and horns.

The Demons don’t really have a society, they are an almost pure anarchy where you take what you and whoever has the most rules everything, outside of that the people basically live like they are in the apocalypse or the wild west, no rules, no consequences, only violence. They do have a “Queen” but that’s just because she’s taken the most shit and has killed anyone who dares challenge her, everyone serves her out of fear.

The whole war thing with the domains started because originally the Gnolls were one race but due to an argument between 2 siblings, their people became divide. One sister (current queen of hell) wanted to do whatever she wanted, One brother (current king of heaven) wanted to keep in line. Some sided with the Queen, others with the King and others didn’t side with either. Each group went their separate ways and grew into the 3 new races but the Queen and King didn’t forget their argument leaving everyone really on edge. No one EXACTLY KNOWS who finally started it but once it started everyone was at each other throats. The war has been going on for almost 500 years.

Due to how much shit that’s happened, the population of the Gnolls is VERY VERY LOW, too many people are dying, either in battle or from being slaughtered during attack of innocence citizens. I don’t imagine there’s many people anymore like probably in the 25000 for each domain max?? 

RANDOM STUFF ABOUT CHARACTERS

Clayton is named after his town, “Claytown” it was a small town by a river hence the name and it was fucking wrecked by angels probably.

Iris’s parents (who are King and Queen of the Faes) are named Queen Aurora and King Solaris

Salem can’t fly so he often turns into mist to float around

Smoking is good for Salem, to him its like “getting a breath of fresh air” because demons live in hell which is full of smoke plus “corrupted” shit is good for demons

Celeste is kinda dumb, very naive and oblivious, doesn’t know what lying is and really doesn’t understand sarcasm, very shelter type

Iris can make a shield made of crystal, she uses it as her main weapon

#DOW3Dtalks #i"M SORRY ITS LONG

[alxndre-0001]

Alex’s Literary Reads of 2019 (from the months of June to September)

Caution: Bad, unedited writing ahead. Alex is a lazy person

Being a law student is an exhausting line of self-inflicted harm. Your life becomes an onslaught of reading materials and even more reading materials to catch up to. Now, reading has been second nature to me since I was four years old, so you can just imagine the sheer amount of readings my law professors have given us for me to consider detesting reading. 

I’ve managed to keep my sobriety from purely academic books by inserting novels, short stories and some poetry along the way. In all my four years in law school, this is the only year that I read as much as I wanted to. Mostly, short stories and essays that could be finished in one sitting. I had summer classes and wasn’t able to go home at all since January or February so I kept myself preoccupied by reading leisurely ( I know, gasp! Is that even possible for Alex in this economy?).

So here they are ++ some reviews and thoughts on the books.

1. Delta of Venus by Anais Nin

I read this book at the same time as a friend of mine. It was my first time diving into erotica considered to hold literary merit, the ones I had before were utterly terrible, by the way. But we are talking of Anais Nin anyway, so there’s that. It’s actually a collection of erotic short stories involving different, unconnected characters although a few of them were referenced in other stories. As someone who’s always been fine with sex in plots, this one left me feeling visibly unsettled. I realized how truly romanticized sex can be in popular books (e.g Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy). The outpouring of feminine pleasure on those books was strictly gratuitous and self-indulgent. Delta of Venus was an uncomfortable experience because it fleshed out several discomfiting realities of sex and titillation – violence is often an element of power play in the bedroom, voyeuristic tendencies of everyone, depraved fantasies which are almost immoral in their insistence. 

Of particular impressions were ‘The Hungarian Adventurer’ and ‘Boarding School’ which explored themes of rape, incest, and even bestiality at one point.  It wasn’t the fact of preference that appalled me, it was the simple exposition of the truth – sex is all things good and bad, inexplicable and sensual. I have a problem with how media portrays sex, especially in popular culture which is partial with idealistic notions of sexual roles apparent in concepts like the male gaze and fantasy in porn. You see, these things eventually become damaging. When we glamorize something as common as sex, it either becomes fodder for taboo or fantasy, which incidentally what occurs with conversations of sex. Either it is a subject much condemned for its alleged impurity or a dirty little secret which encourages unrealistic expectations for both sexes. 

Nin’s style of writing borders on the absurd, but it is done intentionally. In one interview, she narrated how a client wanted her to write erotica which was basically porn and just skip the poetry. She refused as any self-respecting and intelligent woman would.  And well, we need to appreciate her for that. If she let the client have his way, then what we’d have is an exaggerated image of sex instead of the unnerving stories of Delta. In a sense, we can consider Delta as a commentary on sex literature which caters to a male audience. The stories were rife with feeling, of emotion, which feminized a genre so overtly masculine, pandering to the male gaze.

There were quite a number of jibes at the male gaze as well with stories like ‘Marianne’ and the ‘The Veiled Woman’. My favorite was when Marianne (Marianne) met a man who felt erotic pleasure by only being looked at, like an object of desire. It appeared to me as a reverse of the male gaze, which often portrayed women as the object of desire, effacing her human qualities to turn her into just a vessel to express lust, infatuation or even love. But here, the object of desire is a man and we are made privy into his thoughts and actions, humanizing him instead of treating him as just an object. 

Overall, Delta of Venus was a fine starter for anyone who wished to know more of Anais Nin. The prose flowed well, even lyrically so, despite sex being a subject which can easily turn stale if not carefully written. 

2. Tales of Mystery and Imagination by Edgar Allan Poe

My first experience with Poe was when I was around nine or ten years old. I was a nosy child when it came to other people’s books and one day I found printed copies of short stories of my cousin’s in his room. One of them was A Tell-Tale Heart.  I still remember feeling on edge as I read the slightly blurred lines in cheap brown paper, it was utterly thrilling. The horror of the story comes less from the almost supernatural obsession of the unnamed character with the eye of the old man. It was more on his slipping attempts of overcoming the inhuman desire to kill the man for his eye. 

There’s always something that fascinates me with horror that is internally driven. More than the hostility of vampires, the looming threats of an apocalypse, the real horror for me lies in the deep recesses of the human heart, that inscrutable machine that throbs inextricably within all of us. And I feel like that’s what always impressed me with Poe. He had the excellent ability to articulate darkness that is motivated by the self and that is a feat for writers. Stephen King, for example, is great at understanding that his monsters are metaphors for his inner demons but he relates them into tangible forms be it demon dogs, telekinetic teenagers to give them an external existence. 

Poe has a clear grasp of fear and all its friends. And though some critics would lend an idea that Poe writes well with supernatural elements, I beg to disagree. He uses, for one, unreliable narrators (Berenice, William Williamson, Fall of the House of Usher). The thing with unreliable narrators is they warp the sense of reality of the stories, an indication to the reader that everything is not what it seems. And if one pays enough attention, then they could ask the all-important question: Is this the real-life or is this just fantasy? If you’re playing with those two possibilities, then you’d be less scared with the supernatural/ external world than the worldview of the narrator. You start to scrutinize him more closely, dog his steps, intimate his intentions, etc like some fixated lover. In doing so, in peering into the mind of another, you stumble into your own inner motivations, your thoughts and who knows you might mirror the darkness the narrator is struggling with? 

And there is the true gift of Poe – he reads everyone like how he reads himself. He doesn’t do this by getting acquainted with thousands of people with innumerable different lives. No, sir. He forces readers to examine themselves and the darkness inherent in men but constantly, through our self-delusion denied as present in others but not in ourselves. I need not belabor that this kind of writer is my favorite, the ones with a very vivid understanding of humanity, no matter how bleak the answers that arrive to them.

I went at liberties with Poe (lol) but some favorites inside the collection of stories are The Case of M. Valdemar, Black Cat, Descent into the Maelstrom and Pit of the Pendulum. My only issue is Poe’s tendency to philosophize in protracted terms that I was afraid I was going to get bored to death ( Domain of Arnheim, The Island of the Fay) with the possible exception of ‘The Colloquy of Monos and Una’ since I like the ideas presented there. 

3. Slapstick! or Lonesome No More by Kurt Vonnegut

I was supposed to start with Kurt Vonnegut’s Breakfast of Champions or Cat’s Cradle but the only available copy of the writer’s work in the book fair (thanks BBW!!) was this one. It seemed like a light read, a stark contrast from Poe’s grim, verbose collection, so I decided to give it a go. The last time I read a sci-fi novel was Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451 ( a real shame since I planned on reading more sci-fi this year). I finished it in less than a day and I wouldn’t say it left me with any remarkable opinion as much as the other books have had on me except that Vonnegut seemed like that fun, carefree uncle in reunions who has an alcohol abuse problem, is unmarried, and eats grapefruit for breakfast.

It’s not a very long novel and Vonnegut kept ending every part with ‘Hi, ho’. There’s a deeper sadness that is thinly veiled in the book as well, yeah slapstick, which reminded me of David Wallace’s Infinite Jest except the latter presents a more serious nod to its humor. 

It tells the story of Wilbur and Eliza, twins who are considered conventionally horrendous and abnormal in physical qualities. They are tall, too tall in fact. But thank god for rich parents who secretly dislike them, that they lived a sheltered existence away from everyone else other than their servants and a doctor who checks them every day. Unbeknownst to the parents and everyone else, the twins are super smart but only if they are allowed to share their intelligence by being close to each other. 

Long story made short, it’s a light read and perhaps a good overview of Vonnegut’s style of writing. I did want to read Slaughterhouse-Five after this one, so maybe that’s a good start. 

4. Dubliners by James Joyce

I’m having a hard time deciding whether this is my favorite out of everything else in this list or not. James Joyce was actually one of the writers I wanted to read very closely and understand his style better. He had such status and influence in modernism, plus the mythic reputations of both Finnegan’s Wake and Ulysses for their wrought complexity and ingenuity in style that I felt drawn to his works.  You should have seen my face when I got a copy of this book at the BBW Fair last August – think of a kid in a candy store for an accurate depiction. 

Let’s cut right down to the chase. What do I really think of this book? To sum up my thoughts about it: If there is a master class for short story writing, Dubliners should be a required reading. I am by no means a writer or journalist but as someone who reads short stories often (more often than novels or poetry) for the last two or three years, Dubliners was a standout. 

Dubliners is actually a collection of short stories (hell I’ve only been having collections, is this a pattern? lol). They are set in Ireland mediated through the simplicity of daily life.  I admired the craftsmanship of Joyce in this one, the prose was written so concisely, dispensing with the arduous descriptions that lead nowhere.  

The characters, too, were forged from the circumstances of ordinariness – a dead priest, an abused woman, a boy about to come of age and so on. The characters themselves feel like semblances of a collective consciousness – that of Ireland during a tumultuous time in the  20th century.  In a way, the mundane, individual aspects of a character’s life was a mirror to the social conditions Joyce wanted to portray emphatically in the stories. The style was polished in a way that one is made to occupy the places mentioned in Dublin through the familiarity of an old friend, a returning local into the arms of unchanged memories. There hung in each story, a great atmosphere of nostalgia and I suspect it is because Joyce knows how to excavate sentiments for places which we haven’t even visited or seen but that somehow we recognize as phantoms of our very own lives. 

There is indeed great beauty in the most ordinary things and it takes the eye of an artist to take the uneventful and reveal its exquisiteness. Joyce made me grasp a show of that ability in the days that I pored through his collection. Whatever he intended while writing Dubliners, whether as a mirror of a conflicted Irish society or as a commentary to the social context borne through those times, it is his style that won me over. The plots were as simplistic as possible and there was no way to harness more meaning from the events of a character’s life rather than to take them at face value and coming to the understanding of just how nuanced and visceral our daily lives can be if only we looked hard enough, paid attention enough.

Dubliners reminded me of what I look for most in a book. It really is less of the plot or even it’s overarching theme and more of the style. Language as an art form has always been my standard in saying if a book has taken me in or not.  The great writer, Vladimir Nabokov is similarly convinced that language can elevate a story into an art form. There is artistic merit in a writer’s style just by itself and I would rather read a book with a weak plot but with a sound use of language than a novel plot with a severely exploited and copied style. 

5. Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad

Perhaps the other strong contender for favorite in this list is Heart of Darkness. To be fair, it was less a book and more of an experience. An experience of what literature can do when it goes beyond style and narration to get to the bottom of the writer’s innermost motivations for writing the book. I ended Heart of Darkness, perplexed and in much quandary. There are only two possible explanations: First either the book was beyond me and my mediocre mind that try as I might, meaning of any sort would only elude me. Second, it was so condensed with significance that reading it once simply didn’t qualify as reading it at all. By the end of maybe two days, I realized it was the latter. For the lack of any other time, I’m going to try and process its entirety with the sum of my reading it only once.

I confess I looked up a video review off YouTube before getting to the book, mostly because classics have a way of being exhaustively discussed without losing their ability to sustain a reader’s interest. In my case, spoilers don’t do any damage or if there is any, of only negligible consequence since I look for other things other than the stream of events.

According to the video review, the book is an example of darkness as a location. To put context to this description, it would be good to tell a bit of the story. This is about an English man named Marlow who went to Congo to take on greener chances in the trade therein and for which the backdrop is meant to replicate the inhuman conditions of the slave trade. Amidst all this is another man named Kurtz, who was quite illustrious as a prodigious ivory trader and who was steeped in so much mystery. Upon arriving at the Congo, Marlow witnesses the cruel treatment of the ‘slaves’ under the supervision of the Europeans. 

#books #review #literature #anaisnin #edgar allan poe #kurt vonnegut #james joyce #dubliners

[exadorlion]

GODS AU I MADE WITH PARKER

@theinevitablesense Washington - God of Paternity, Leadership and Time Entire Back Love

Washington is the leader of the Gods. ↳ Having been one of the first two born from nothing ↳ Together, with Martha, he created all life and the major gods ↳ He wanted a happy family, but got a petty, squabbling messes that just makes him sad and tired

Martha Washington - Goddess of Maternity, Children and Space Entire Front Hatred

Martha is a gentle, but firm, goddess. ↳ She was one of the first two born from nothing. ↳ With Washington, created all life and major gods. ↳ Also wanted a happy family, but is happy with her less-than-ideal clan. Looks for the bright side.

John Adams - God of Communication and Compromise Right Hand

No one likes John Adams ↳ The eldest and most powerful of the Washington’s creations ↳ Uses his powers to assert his superiority ↳ Gets pissy when people talk about him behind his back ↳ When pressured, can bring even the most divisive of enemies to reach an agreement

Adams V Hamilton Adams, when he was but a few moments old, invented spoken language and taught it to the Washingtons. When humans were created, Adams taught them the language too, so that way they might be able to communicate with each other. Adams prided himself on this achievement, lauding it above his godly peers. Eventually, Hamilton got fed up with it and claimed that anyone could do what Adams had done, if given the chance. Adams challenged Hamilton to prove his claim, certain the younger god couldn’t. Hamilton, trying to show Adams up, not only created a new language, but created a visual language, writing. Hamilton taught his new language to the humans, proving both languages equally useful. Which is how Hamilton stole Adams’ spotlight and got an extra domain to rule.

Alexander - God of Sun, Writing, and Life Right Arm Quill Hamilton is a salty, jaded bean. ↳ Major Gossip ↳ Messes with Burr at every opportunity ↳ Calls Seabury the God of “Being An Absolute Fuckwad” ↳ Secretly just wants love ↳ Touch-starved and longs for affection ↳ Fights everyone.

Burr - God of Moon, Patience and Death Left Arm Spear

Burr is tired out soul who wants peace. ↳ His job as the god of death exhausts and saddens him. ↳ Doesn’t dislike Hamilton, is just often annoyed by him ↳ Good friends with Jefferson ↳ became one of two gods that Jefferson would speak to after the death of Martha J.

Theodosia and Burr During the early days of humanity, Burr fell in love with a human woman named Theodosia. ↳ When she died, Burr turned her physical body into the stars and scattered them across the night sky, so he might see and be with her forever.

Jefferson - God of Agriculture and Nature Fingers

Jefferson is a pure little bean. Really sheltered and innocent. ↳ Doesn’t know slang (daddy) ↳ Plays with hair when nervous ↳ Hid from Hamilton at first ↳ Wears silky togas

Grows drugs without knowing what they are. (High most of the time)

Death of Martha Jefferson ⇒ Seasons When the world was young, Thomas fell in love with a human woman, who inevitably died. Heartbroken, Thomas shut himself away in his garden. Winter is when the anniversary of her death rolls around and he gets sad. The rest of the time, he manages to distract himself well enough.

Jefferson’s Garden is a Holy Place ↳ No one can die while in the garden. ↳ Laurens cannot enter the garden. ↳ When Martha J was dying, Thomas attempted to save her by bringing her to the garden. ↳ However, she didn’t want to live forever, and was willing to die like humans should. When Thomas turned his back, she walked out and dropped dead before he could stop her.

Legends of Jefferson After losing Martha, Jefferson locked himself away in his garden for millennia, refusing entrance to humans and gods alike. Only his two closest friends, Burr and Madison ever saw him, and soon many humans and some gods began to doubt he even existed. Some claimed the grief of losing Martha caused Jefferson to fade from reality, leaving behind the garden as the only sign he was ever there. Others simply thought Jefferson had abandoned them, and therefore turned their backs on him. It was only once Hamilton happened upon him that people began to realize the God of Nature was not gone or had abandoned them. He was simply very high and very sad the entire time.

Madison - God of Healers, Health and Disease Neck

Madison is a quiet, cold god. ↳ Good friends with Jefferson ↳ Constantly sick ↳ Volunteered to bear the diseases of humanity so that some humans might survive ↳ Secretly loves humanity, though often keeps his distance ↳ Tries to get intoxicated but is unable to get drunk

Madison and Jefferson After Madison took on the illnesses for humans, Jefferson offered to help him find treatments to either cure various diseases or at least alleviate symptoms and pain. The two work together, Jefferson creating plants with different properties and James giving him advice based on what worked and what didn’t. They accidentally created weed together. Even when Jefferson sealed himself away, he let Madison in to continue their work.

Franklin - God of Hearth, Creation Stomach

Franklin is everyone’s grandfather and crazy uncle rolled into one ↳ Born from literal fire ↳ Taught early humans how to harness fire and make tools ↳ Constantly goes down the human world to try out new inventions ↳ It doesn’t always go well ↳ Tries again anyway.

Angelica - Goddess of Wisdom and Knowledge Eyes (General Area)

Angelica is smarter than you ↳ Loves her sister goddesses, especially Eliza and Peggy ↳ Hella feminist ↳ Visits Human universities and schools often Swore a vow of celibacy

Angelica v. Humans ↳Angelica is frustrated and annoyed by humans ↳They come to her for advice, and she’s just as likely to point you to another god or lie to you than actually help you out ↳ Eliza tries to get her to be more compassionate, but all Angelica wants to do is learn, read and not be bothered by dumb humans

Jay - God of Judgement and Justice Wrists

John Jay is done with everyone’s shit. ↳ Jay likes going to human courtrooms and watching the proceedings ↳ Very sick

Lee - God of Honor, Deception Left Shoulder Blade

Lee tries his best but always comes up short. ↳ Based on the duality of honor and deception ↳ Lee is either the most virtuous god out there or one of the worst, depending on the day ↳ He oversees human affairs of honor, watching duels and deciding the victor ↳ Liars, manipulators and other conniving individuals also look to him for guidance ↳ Followers of Lee are often very self-centered individuals

Lee v Laurens

Eliza - Goddess of Emotion, Forgiveness and Passion Chest

Eliza just wants everyone to get along, please. ↳ Finds herself cleaning up after the other gods’ mistakes ↳ Healing divides driven between people as a result of godly action ↳ She tries to foster positive relationships between others ↳ Though the friendliest of the gods, often walking among humans openly, when she is crossed bad things happen to those who hurt her. ↳ Her sorrow and anger are just as powerful as her joy and love.

Eliza and Hamilton At one point devoted to each other, Hamilton cheated on Eliza with Mariah, because he’s a hoe and generally slept with everyone at one point. When Hamilton fesses up, Eliza turns from him, leaving him a lonely bitter bean. No one feels bad for him.

James Monroe - God of Information and Prophesy Forehead to Ears

James Monroe is often overlooked, but content to chill. ↳ Hangs out with Angelica a lot ↳ Never answers questions plainly, everything’s in goddamn riddles with this guy ↳ Only tells people as much as he wants to ↳ Chill dude ↳ Either liked or disliked, no in between.

Monroe V. Hamilton After Hamilton’s affair with Mariah, Monroe (having seen this as a prophecy) confronts Hamilton about his actions. Hamilton confesses, but swears Monroe to secrecy. Unfortunately for Hamilton, Monroe had already delivered his prophecy, and the other gods grew suspicious. Hamilton, forced to confess his affair, gets pissed at Monroe, and attempts to go to war. Burr managed to step between the two of them before too much damage was done, but the rift between the two gods has never been mended.

Monroe and Prophecy Being the God of Prophecy, Monroe is gifted with visions of the future. He has always been accurate. When a vision needs to be communicated to humans, Monroe uses human Prophets to speak for him. Monroe has predicted most things, including the apocalypse.

Mariah - Goddess of Seduction, Love and Lust Boob Area idk Chest too?

Mariah doesn’t want to hurt anyone but ends up doing it a lot anyway. ↳ Though often depicted as a seductress, Mariah also rules over all form of love, sexual or not ↳ Honestly has good intentions ↳ Her solutions to problems aren’t always the best ↳ Kind of a sucker for a love story ↳ Despite being the Goddess of Love, Mariah is often the loneliest, searching for her own love.

James v Mariah Once, in her attempt to find herself a companion, she was tricked by a human named James Reynolds. Reynolds lured her into his home, trapped her through some means I haven’t thought up yet, and forced her to marry him. He treated her poorly, abusing her despite her godliness. The other gods searched for her, but is was Burr who found her one night during his travels over Reynolds’ house. Upon being rescued by Burr, Mariah turned Reynolds into a slug.

Friedrich Von Steuben - God of Fertility and Sexuality

Battle Axe

Von Steuben is kind of like that one uncle of yours that isn’t actually related to you but everyone likes him so it’s cool. ↳ Steuben throws the best god parties ↳ Likes to hang out with Lafayette (and his giant harem/party gang) and Franklin ↳ Drinks fire for fun ↳ Doesn’t like pants

Ben Walker Ben Walker was a normal human, just minding his own business, when he happened to run into a disguised Steuben at a festival. The two were instantly taken with one another, but when Steuben brought Ben to one of Lafayette’s parties, Ben was disgusted with the decadence and left. Confused, Steuben pursued Ben, who wanted nothing to do with the gods and their lifestyle. Steuben, determined to win Ben over, promised to give up his partying ways for a year. Steuben courted Ben relentlessly, delivering roses each day to the human man. At the end of the allotted time, Ben had fallen so hopelessly for the god, agreed to join Steuben in the godly realm. Granted immortality, Ben stays by Steuben’s side, though he still disapproves of Laf and his harem.

Lafayette - God of Food, Wine, and Travels Legs Sword

Lafayette’s a good guy as long as you don’t touch his wine or threaten his friends. ↳ Has a giant group of humans, nymphs, other creatures and minor gods that follow him around in a constant party ↳ Likes to crash the houses of the richest humans and take their shit ↳ Has lots of good stories, but is a horrible storyteller ↳ Fell in love with lots of gods, never had his feelings returned ↳ Avoids tough situations (runs away from confrontation, usually consists of people asking for his hand in marriage.)

Lafayette’s Followers Lafayette is always attended by a grab-bag of creatures, humans, and minor gods that follow him around. The group lives in an almost constant state of partying, often drunk or high as well, and sometimes it just becomes an orgy. While with the group, all of Lafayette’s followers are granted temporary immortality, which is only revoked when the person in question leaves. As a result, some of his followers have been around him for centuries.

James Armistead Lafayette A human that travels with Lafayette, James Armistead was a slave to a wealthy but cruel landowner. When Lafayette’s band of merry drunks crashed the landowner’s house for the night, James Armistead was forced by his owner to entertain the group with stories. Lafayette, quite impressed by the man’s skill, mentioned this to the landowner. James Armistead was then offered as payment to get the God and his followers to leave. Offended that another human would be offered as payment, Lafayette turned the landowner and his wife into the first vultures. As an apology, Lafayette offered James Armistead a place in his party as his Official Storyteller. Grateful, James Armistead accepted and took Lafayette’s name as his own last name.

Lafayette and GWash Lafayette adores and loves gwash, above any other god. At the beginning of time, Washington gave Lafayette the sword he chose to be his death weapon. During the apocalypse, Lafayette is sent to kill Washington, as everyone assumes Lafayette might be the best candidate to actually pull it off. It doesn’t work, however, and Lafayette (while happy Washington lives) is devastated. He hands Gwash his sword and is killed on the spot.

Mulligan - God of Spies, Tailors and Weavers

Dagger

Mulligan is an extremely friendly guy for what half of his job is. ↳ Knows how to make just about anything out of yarn, thread and fabric ↳ Hangs out with Martha Washington and sews with her ↳ Doesn’t talk about the other half of his job unless he has to ↳ Has a habit of letting captured spies go free, slipping them away from their captors and back home

Laurens - God of War, Revolution and Righteous Revolt. Half Human // Half God

Gun Laurens is reckless but loyal. ↳ Laurens is a cursed god, forced to ‘die’ everyday, but regenerates pretty quickly. ↳ Really flippant about it. ↳ Does dumb shit because it doesn’t matter if he dies. ↳ Secretly hates it. ↳ When presented with a conflict, Laurens is more likely to take the side of the underdog. ↳ Especially revolutions, it is a rare day when Laurens supports the reigning power.

Laruens’ Birth Laurens was the last of the gods to be born. Washington and Martha, running out of energy to fully form a god, asked Burr to give them a recently deceased human. Using the empty body, the two parent gods used the rest of their power to give life to Laurens, stuffing his Godly soul inside the human body. As a result, Laurens’ very being and his physical body are constantly at war. Laurens is forced to ‘die’ once a day to keep himself whole, but is reborn with each sunrise over the Godly realm.

(I mean,,, unless you can think of a better reason why Laurens has such a shitty existence.)

Laurens and Hamilton Really chill best friends. Laurens and Hamilton occasionally use Laurens’ death curse to do dumb shit, like drop him from as high in the sky as possible to earth. One of the only people that can touch Alex due to his lack of need to keep himself physically safe, Laurens has died a lot from hugging his friend. Though the constant cycle of death upsets them both, they joke around with each other to make it bearable.

Peggy - Goddess of Orphans, Homeless, and Other Forgotten People

Peggy will fight you, whenever, wherever, she’s ready to go. ↳ Like her charges, Peggy is often forgotten by humans, or considered a minor goddess ↳ ↳ Nothing makes her more angry than to be dismissed as ‘unimportant.’ ↳ When people hurt those she’s tasked with protecting, she goes hardcore in her punishments ↳ Can be found in homeless shelters, orphanages and other such places among her people, trying her best to help ↳ There’s too many under her umbrella, though, and her power is often stretched very thin

Seabury - God of Religion, Faith and Priests

Seabury considers himself better than he is. ↳ Only god to have a shrine or statue in every temple, even those not devoted to him ↳ Protects those who devote their lives to service of the gods, no matter which god they choose ↳ Stickler for ceremony ↳ Hates it when the other gods act childish or otherwise ‘tarnish their reputations.’ ↳ Big whiny baby. Actually pretty pacifist comparatively.

Seabury V. Hamilton While King George III was around and doing his false prophet thing, Hamilton and Seabury had an argument about how much harm King George was doing, if any at all. Hamilton shouted at Seabury, threatened war, and Seabury backed down. Humiliated, Seabury decreed that all church proceedings had to take place either at night, in the shade, or indoors. Hamilton just laughed at him and occasionally pokes his head through church windows to mock him.

Philip - God of Poetry, a branch of Hamilton

Philip will roast his dad, but gods help you if you try to do it.

Hamilton’s son, Philip is one of the many Gods Hamilton spawned to take charge of different writing styles. Looks like Laurens because Hamilton wanted his first son to look like his best friend. When humans invented rap, Philip fell in love with the art form. What I’m saying is he rap battles humans. Constantly.

Philip and Hamilton Philip adores his father, but the affair affected him deeply. He sided with Eliza, whom he considers his mom, during the fall out. Since then, their relationship has been healed somewhat, partially due to the Eaker Incident. He will drag Hamilton, but gets highly protective when others do it.

Phillip V Eaker When the news of Hamilton’s affair reached the humans, one young man began to insult Hamilton. Philip took offense to the blasphemous talk, and challenged Eaker to a duel. Though Philip could not die, he agreed he would lose if he took damage that would kill a normal human. Eaker cheated during the duel, however, catching Philip off guard and hitting him in such a way that made Eaker win. Philip, highly upset, turned Eaker into a quill, which Philip uses to write poetry, sometimes about how stupid Eaker was.

Paul Revere, William Dawes, Samuel Prescott and Sybil Ludington - The Four Messenger Gods

REVERE ↳ ↳

WILLIAM ↳ ↳

SAMUEL ↳ ↳

SYBIL ↳ ↳

OTHER NON-HUMAN CREATURES:

Sally Hemmings - The first nymph. Created by Maria in an attempt to make Thomas feel better after Martha J’s death. Upon gaining sentience, she decided to make her own life, and left Thomas behind.

Thomas Paine - Immortal traveler who wanders, telling stories about the Gods

Ben Walker - Immortal Companion to Von Steuben, was once human.

James Armistead Lafayette - Immortal follower of Lafayette, storyteller that travels with Laf’s eternal party.

HUMANS: Martha Jefferson - Pure Human that Thomas fell in love with. Theodosia - Pure Human that Burr fell in love with. Her body became the stars after her death. James Reynolds - Human Asshole that trapped Maria and got his shit kicked in. Eaker - Dumbass Human shit that gets turned into a quill by Philip King George - False Prophet Sam Adams - Human who introduced Laf to brewery Henry Knox - Human warrior that gained Laurens’ favor by leading a tiny army to victory against a larger force.

IMPORTANT RELATIONSHIPS

HAMILTON + BURR

Eclipses are Basically Hamilton messing w/ burr and Burr being DONE. Solstices are the one day of each year when one of them sleeps in. Equinoxes are the two days they are pals. Burr is prophesied to do the impossible by killing Hamilton, and thereby bringing about the apocalypse.

JEFFERSON + HAMILTON

SUNFLOWERS. Thomas made Sunflowers for Alex because Alex was sad humans couldn’t look at him.

JEFFERSON + BURR

Hamilton didn’t believe Jefferson existed for a while, tho Burr knew and Hamilton thought Burr was just fucking with him. Burr and Jefferson hang out because shared dead human girls.

PHILIP + EAKER

Philip and Eaker’s duel is because Eaker was being blasphemous and Philip got offended and ended when Eaker cheated so Philip turned him into a quill.

HOW TO KILL A GOD 101:

Each and every god as a weapon/item special to them that must be used to kill them. It is the only object that can hurt/kill a god and each god has a unique item.

#long post #godau