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#I NEED TO WORLDBUILD
sourcetwo · 1 year
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i swear like every two week i intensely focus on a different aspect of half life. recently its been the combine soldier hierarchy and combine units in general. next week i think i will observe xen flora and fauna
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sylvies-kablooie · 4 months
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i do unironically think the best artists of our generation are posting to get 20 notes and 3 reblogs btw. that fanfic with like 45 kudos is some of the best stuff ever written. those OCs you carry around have some of the richest backstories and worldbuilding someone has ever seen. please do not think that reaching only a few people when you post means your art isn't worth celebrating.
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ponytailzuko · 5 months
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[ID copied from alt text: Digital drawing of the characters Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Adrien Agreste drawn in both their civilian and superhero forms to fit in the Avatar universe. The text labels Marinette as "Avatar Ladybug; Raava" and Adrien as "Avatar Cat Noir; Vaatu." The rest of the text is in a list that says, "Avatars are meant to be partners that balance each other as well as bring balance to the world. Both live in Republic City. Keep being the Avatar a secret in their civilian lives - becomes necessary as the prolific bloodbender Hawkmoth makes his way thru the city trying to capture both Avatars. Marinette's originally fire, Adrien is originally water. Alya teaches Marinette airbending, Nino teaches Adrien earth. Marinette's prev. reincarnation in the cycle was Master Fu, Adrien's was Marianne Lenoir." End ID]
made an au where the avatar chars were in the miraculous universe. now i have done the opposite. o7
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officialspec · 16 days
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being the annoying semantic-realism "that wouldnt work like that" guy my whole life and then reading dunmeshi was like winning the autism lottery. kui can we meet up ill talk about fantasy soil types with you please
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aroaceleovaldez · 15 days
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i think a lot about how early-series, demigods are referred to pretty equally as "demigods," "half-bloods," and "godlings," - the last used particularly by gods at demigods - but after that "godlings" is almost exclusively used to refer to minor gods.
something something i am literally always chewing on the concept of the line between immortals/demigods/monsters/etc being thinner than it appears
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blackkatdraws2 · 1 month
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Giggling about this [Achromatic Loop AU/non-canonical]
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allastoredeer · 8 days
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THAT MOMENT YOU REALIZE ALASTOR IS ACTUALLY WAY SCARIER THAN WE GIVE HIM CREDIT FOR
So, in the throes of doing world-building for my Hazbin fics and analyzing characters and how they fit into Pentagram's political system, I realized not only how powerful Alastor actually is, but how fucking scary.
Now, yes, in the grand scheme of things, Alastor is far from the most powerful person in Hell. Far from it. The Royal Family (Lucifer, Lilith, and Charlie), and the Goetia are way above the Overlords. Our twinky, angsty, galaxy bird, Stolas, could 100% body Alastor. I'm sorry, Al. I love you, babe. But in terms of the hierarchal system, you and the other Overlords aren't influential to the rest of Hell, at all.
But, it's an entirely different story if we stick exclusively to the Pride Ring.
I'm not trying to do a big, essay-length analysis, that's a lot of work and I'm tired, so I'll try to make it as brief as possible.
We know three crucial things: 1) sinners aren't allowed to leave the Pride Ring, 2) they've built a semi-functional society for themselves that is exclusive to their specific ring (with a political system that they've molded just for them), and 3) sinners can't kill other sinners.
So, what we have here is a big piece of land stuffed with people who can't leave it, in a society they've built specifically for themselves, with an amassing population that is constantly growing because they have no way of dying/or killing each other. (Honestly, it's like Heaven was setting them up for an Exterminations - THOUGH I'VE ACTUALLY COME UP WITH A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT, COMPLETELY FANON BASED THEORY/WORLD BUILDING IDEA ABOUT HOW HELL HAD KEPT THE POPULATION DENSISTY CONTROLLED FOR THE MILLENIA OF COLLECTING HUMAN SOULS, HOW THE POPLUATION STILL GOT TOO LARGE AND THUS RESULTED IN THE EXTERMINATIONS, AND HOW IT WAS ROSIE WHO HAD A HUGE HAND IN IT ALL.
Anyway, back on topic, so the Overlords essentially control this Ring. We know Stolas lives in the Pride Ring (judging by the red sky we see when he's at his house), so its possible more Goetia live there too (and imps, and succubi; the Pride Ring is known for being the most diverse of the Rings), but we haven't seen any evidence of the Goetia, or any of the other Hellborn, interact or influencE Pentragram City in a political way--outside of the Goetia being above the Overlords in the hierarchal system). I headcanon that they do have some involvement in Pentagram City, as they do live there, but for the most part, the Pride Ring is left completely to the sinners and how they run things.
Lillith got involved, obviously (but she's been missing for years in the beginning of the show), Lucifer hasn't been involved for who knows how long, and Charlie obviously doesn't have a lot of sway, nor did she have any previous influence given how she's treated by the very people she rules over. Her status is known, but there's no actual respect for her or her title as the literal Princess of Hell.
The royal family may the the strongest beings in all of the 7 Rings, but outside of Lillith, it seems they had very little involvement (in Charlie's case) or interest (in Lucifer's case) in ingratiating themselves into Pentagram City.
The entire Ring is being run by the Overlords. They cannot leave it. The Pride Ring is their domain. This is their new home. This is their world.
And in this world, the Overlords are the top dogs.
So, Alastor is powerful just in the sense that he is one of the Overlords. Like them, he is essentially one of the rulers of their personal, caged-off little world. He has power and political sway. He joined the other Overlords for Carmilla's meeting, where they were going to discuss the aftermath of the Extermination and what they can do about the loss in the population (and thus, their power, given that owning souls is how they get it).
It's implied that this isn't the first time they've had meetings like this, and if they get together to discuss the best ways to recover from the Exterminations and make up for their mutual losses (literally working together when they could've all just been rivals trying to undermine the others to get more souls), who knows what else they've discussed in their efforts to keep Pentagram City running (especially considering that the best way to maintain their power IS by maintaining the city, it's people, and keeping it from falling apart at the seams. Taking care of the city is in their best interests - I use "taking care of" very, very loosely, considering this is still Hell and it's hardly the gold standard of utopia's). They're essentially a Board of Leadership with mutually shared power.
The Overlords have all the power. All the sway. In their established world, THEY are at the top of the food chain.
BUT then, you take into account that sinners can't kill each other (a rule that extends even to the Overlords), and that's when things get interesting.
In episode 4, "Masquerade" Valentino told Angel that he's "killed people for less" during the scene in the dressing room. But, in episode 2, after Valentino had torn apart one of Velvette's models, she wasn't upset in the way an Overlord would be if they lost someone under contract, especially considering that owning souls is what gives them power (and I assume that they own the souls of most, if not all, of the people they employ). She said that she can't sit and wait for "that bitch to pull herself back together," so, yeah, the implication is that sinners can literally be torn apart (even by the Overlords, who are the strongest among them) but won't die is immense. No matter what you do, a sinner will reform, or heal, or whatever, but they will come back.
So, consider, that there is only one person who's been able to kill sinners, permanently, and that person is Alastor.
Not only that, he killed Overlords.
In a realm where death is impossible, Alastor had cheated the system. And as far as we know, he's the only one who's been able to do it.
The only person I can think of who has something similar is Carmilla, but that's because she'd integrated angelic steel into her apparel. (Though, there's something to be said about her selling angelic weapons to the masses, as she is a manufacturer and distributor of them not only in Pentagram city, but all of the 7 Rings, (as Stryker had gotten his hands on a "Carmine blessing tipped rifle" to kill off Stolas, who's a Goetia), thus, sinners killing other sinners can still be possible, but that's only if they get you're hands on a weapon with angelic steel, or they're wealthy enough to buy onr, and I imagine Carmilla doesn't sell those cheap.
But Alastor didn't use angelic steel. He found a way to tear souls apart, where otherwise they were only able to be owned. Considering how terrified Husk (who is one of the most calm and collected people in the Hazbin crew; who had once been an Overlord, himself) was when AIastor threatened to do they same to him, like, that goes to show just how serious it is. He was literally full-body shaking. Ears-pinned back. Flight-fight-or freeze. Pressing himself down into the carpet.
We've never seen him like that at any other time during the show, even during the Extermination when they were all about to die.
Alastor's threat had scared him more than literally getting killed my an army of Exorcist's.
And like, yeah???? I get it????
That shit has to be terrifying. Not only for those that Alastor threatens, but for every single sinner in Pentagram City.
This random guy cheated the system, killed without any outside means, and if he can topple Overlords (the strongest and most powerful of them) almost over night, there's no saying what he can do to regular sinners. (Or what they think he can do, I have more thoughts surrounding whether Alastor would be able to tear apart a soul that is owned by someone else, but this is already getting long).
And, presumably, the only reason he stopped is because he decided to.
Like???? Do you guys understand what I'm saying???? For someone to have that kind of power??? In a system where that power SHOULD NOT be possible??? A power that gives him this massive advantage over everyone else???? That no one else can do???? And the only reason he doesn't use it is because he decides not to????
It's no wonder Alastor was so feared. Why he still is feared (by those who know of him at least LOL he has been gone for 7 years). And, like, yeah we see him be all creepy and scary during the show. We see him use his magic and grow into his demon form, and he is intimidating in that right, but I think the true horror of his character comes from this ability to kill the unkillable in a system where it never should've been possible in the first place.
That's where the true terror of the Radio Demon lies. That's where the visceral fear comes from. And it's why he's someone you wouldn't want to mess with, even for the other Overlords (especially for the other Overlords).
Like, it makes sense why he has such a massive ego. Why he thinks he can take on anyone. It's because he has. He's powerful, even by Overlord standards, and he knows it. And it makes further sense why him now being on a leash is making him unravel at the seams.
Am I making sense??? Is this all just meaningless rambling to you guys??? Idk! Idk. It's just been tumbling through my head, and it made me realize just how scary Alastor is, especially from an outside perspective.
I have SO many headcanons T.T I've done so much world-building, and I am have so much fucking fun. I feel like a kid in a sandbox. My brain hasn't stopped buzzing since this show came out.
Anyway, I'm off to outline more wips and work on the fics I'm writing. Happy Hazbin-ing to the rest of you.
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Herald fashion!
aka i'm just throwing random shapes together and seeing what fits. what i do know is i like the tassels, thick blanket-like fabric, fancy ear jewelry, horn coverings, and rounded edges. those feel Right
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redwinterroses · 4 months
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There’s a cherry tree in the middle of the redwood forest.
False isn’t sure what to make of that. She shifts her grip on the staff in her hand, its pale glow reflecting faintly off the fresh snow. She’s come out here for resources—the vault altar is demanding logs, and these giant trees are an easy source—but the incongruous sight of an enormous, blossoming cherry tree sending pink petals wafting on the frozen wind…
She wonders if this is what fish feel like, when they see a lure.
“Hello?” she calls, her voice echoing off the trees. The world stands in permanent semi-twilight here, and the deeper shadows hide the mobs that will venture out come nightfall. A sneak of creepers is bedded down in a sweetberry bramble just on the other side of the clearing, and False tenses when the lead boar lifts his head, but he apparently doesn’t deem her worth stalking so early in the day. 
There is no other reaction to her call.
False is of half a mind just to head back home and farm her own dang trees. It’s not like the vaultar is picky about the kinds of logs—she could just as easily grow up a bunch of birch and throw those in there. But that will take so much longer… not to mention she’s not sure if there are even enough saplings in her storage.
She unhooks her enchantment-glittered axe from her belt and pauses to mentally poke at her mana reserves. Plenty high. Whatever’s lingering near this tree, it can hardly be worse than what she deals with on the daily in the vaults. Overworld dangers are barely a challenge anymore.
The logic of that doesn’t change the uneasy feeling that buzzes over her skin though. 
Venturing further into the clearing. False’s gaze traces up the trunk of the cherry tree, following its branches to where they terminate in lush bursts of pink and white blooms. A sweet smell drifts on the wind. She wrinkles her nose, reminded of compost piles and fermented spiders’ eyes. 
The tree’s branches stretch long and low—a canopy of their own, heavy with flowers and dark, glossy leaves. The space underneath is filled with falling flowers and a fog of pollen, the air moisture-thick like a lush cave.
Lifting one hand, False catches a falling petal on her fingertip.
It sizzles as it touches her skin, stinging and buzzing like live redstone.
She hisses through her teeth, shaking her hand and letting the petal fall to the forest floor. “What the heck?”
Another petal tumbles past her face, and she watches it with narrowed eyes—right until it fizzles out of existence a few pixels above the forest floor.
“Glitch,” she mutters. “That’s… not good.”
Iskall needs to know about this—it could be a bug from one of the new updates, or it could be something deeper in the code, but either way: this glitched tree is a problem. She’s probably lucky it just stung her.
She reaches for her communicator, raising it to take a pic of the cherry tree.
“Oh, hi there, False!”
False yelps, spinning around with her axe ready to swing.
Gem is standing behind her, a wreath of cherry blossoms tangled in her hair and antlers, leaning casually on a tall staff of blooming cherry wood. Her smile is wide, and sap flows over her fingers, pale golden, dripping down her arms to leave dark spots on the faded denim of her overalls.
“Gem!” False lowers her axe. “Oh my gosh, you scared me. I didn’t know you were doing Vault Hunters.”
“Hm?” Gem raises one eyebrow, and for a moment her eyes flicker to red and then purple before settling back on green. “Oh—I’m not doing Vault Hunters, False.” Her voice is amused, almost chiding.
“Oh.” False feels unexpectedly small—which is impressive, considering she’s nearly half a block taller than Gem. 
More of the glitched petals fall, resting on Gem’s hair and slowly melting into it like snowflakes. The brief moment of relief when False had seen Gem’s familiar grin is fading into something like the sensation of freefall. 
“What’cha up to?” Gem asks, and her face blinks from one expression to the next like a bad video message. Her clothes are blue—no, green—no, bloodstained and grey—no, blue. They’ve always been blue.
False takes a step back.
“Uh, not much…” she glances up at the redwoods. “Just doing some… resource gathering. You know.”
“Cool!” Gem giggles, and stands up straight. False tenses, but Gem only spins around her staff and waves a hand at the glitched tree. “I didn’t realize this was an occupied server—are there many people here?”
There’s a buzzing in False’s skull, and she blinks rapidly. A muscle twitches under her eye. 
“Um…”
“I guess it doesn’t really matter.” Gem lifts one hand and grabs one of the lowest branches of the cherry tree. She really should not have been able to reach that.
Swinging herself up with the lithe, effortless strength of a cat, she perches on the limb and stares down at False. The grin is gone from her face now, and she looks down at False with bright eyes.
“Etho’s not here, is he?”
False opens her mouth to answer, the words yes, of course he is, I can take you to him heavy on her lips… And with effort, she swallows them back. 
They taste of sweet rot.
“Why... why doesn’t what matter?” she asks instead.
Gem stares at her for a long moment, expressionless. The flowers woven through her antlers are growing of their own accord, twining up to caress their brethren in the branches overhead. 
Then she smiles broadly, flashing teeth that nearly glow white in the dappled shadows. “Oh!” she exclaims. “No reason! I’m only passing through, is all.”
“You’re not… you’re not sticking around?” False tries—and mostly fails—to sound disappointed.
“Naaaaah…” Gem stands and walks along the branch, as secure and balanced as if it were a stone floor. The flowers in her hair flow along behind her, sliding from the branches and falling like a cape down her back. “Worldhopping is easy. Staying in one spot is way harder.” 
False watches the flowers move and swirl, their smooth, strange motion ensnaring her attention. The buzzing is back, too. Like bees, drunk on honey and sleepy in their hive.
“World hopping…?” she manages. “With admin commands?”
Gem’s laugh is as brilliant as a knife and as sharp as a spark. “False!” she crows. “You say the funniest things.”
False laughs. It seems appropriate. She isn’t sure why.
“Anyway,” Gem continues, fading into one patch of blossoms and reappearing on the other side of it. Her eyes are sprays of cherry flowers now. Her antlers are branches. “Anyway, cherry trees are all the same. They make it easy to get around.”
“That…” doesn’t make sense, False wants to say. But her lips are heavy, and coated in sticky sap. Maybe it doesn’t really matter.
“Oops! Behind you, False!” 
Gem’s chirped warning is flaked in glee, and False turns around, as slow as if her feet are buried in soul sand.
The creepers she had seen—the entire sneak—are standing behind her, pink flowers blooming from their eyes. 
“Oh no.”
The boar’s blinded head snaps toward her voice, hissing. He starts to aggro, bioluminescent streaks flashing from his snout to flanks in increasingly-swift pulses of light.
“See ya in season ten, False!” Gem cries out cheerfully.
The axe drops from False’s nerveless fingers, trailing strings of sap. She smells the inescapable stench of burning gunpowder, overlaid with rot.
“...Dangit.”
[FalseSymmetry was blown up by a creeper]
~*~
Jerking upright in her own bed, False swipes wildly at her face, trying to smear away tree sap that isn’t there. 
“What the heck, Gem?” she exclaims at her empty base. Her voice falls flat, swallowed up by the sky that surrounds her builds. The clock above her head ticks impatiently, and she huffs in frustration, pushing up out of her bed. All her tools, gone—her levels, gone... and after all that she still needs those logs for the vault. 
Grumbling, she starts pulling backup gear from various chests, trying to cobble together something that can get her back to the redwood grove before her items despawn—assuming they hadn’t all been obliterated by a second or third creeper explosion. She glances at the vaulter, and freezes.
It’s been completed. The crystal floats gently atop the stone pedestal, gleaming with an inner light. 
And, tumbled at the base of the vaulter—abandoned, more than was needed to fill the crystal’s requirements:
Half a stack of cherry logs.
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nocinovae · 5 months
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Minecraft feels like it doesn’t know what to do for big updates any more so they’re doing like small miscellaneous updates collected together. I wish they’d move on from trying to give them a theme bc I feel like that’s just confusing.
One thing I wish they’d do is do updates from time to time and go back and add pieces to old update. Like maybe add more fish or tree types.
Specifically what made me have this thought is that I’d love if they’d add more to the geodes. Like the amethysts are lovely but I’d love if there was a whole range of crystals to find in geodes!! I feel like that’s along the line of the archaeological stuff they’ve done recently! Digging into the earth for history and stuff!
Also if they ever do a forest update I’d freak out. I’d love if they revamped their nature bc I feel like that part of the over world specifically has been the same since the beginning era of minecraft. Like ocean, nether, caves, villages, NOW FOREST. And end.
Feels like natural progression of their universe growing! And I like feeling like the updates can have a “story” like aspect to me. Especially bc worldbuilding. Favorite idea when it comes to minecraft lore
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emry-stars-art · 9 months
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I don’t think I fully realized how funny the word ‘toddler’ is until I’m coming up with a mer equivalent. Baby mers don’t toddle. They probably like… wobble. Little wobbler sharkyards. Just babies
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extrajigs · 3 months
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Wanted to make more Abattoir outsiders! Thinking that most if not all of the critters made from human stock are going to be herbivorous. Which is slightly restrictive since there is no sunlight. But I'm thinking that the excess light/heat the Abby's emit allows for a radius of vegetation to grow around them. Still pretty chilly out there though!
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Also lil bonus boy out in the snow cause I thought he was cute!
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luxaofhesperides · 4 months
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Human/Mer AU + Bioluminescent Siren Duke ; requested by @justwannabecat!
The human hadn’t been in his territory recently. 
He wasn’t attached or anything, but Duke had started to look forward to seeing him around. It was equal parts exciting and terrifying to be under the curious, watchful eyes of a human who could so easily be dragged down into the depths. 
He knows he shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t be indulging this human’s curiosity, trying to lure him closer time after time. Holding the attention of any human is dangerous; Duke’s heard the stories plenty of time. He’s seen the damage humans can do even more. 
There’s just something different about this human, who never dives too deep, who smiles at him and leaves little gifts in the tide pools tucked away from the rest of the beach, hidden from sight. Or rather, usually hidden from sight, since this human is the only one to go there. 
It’s foolish, but Duke actually misses his human. 
It’s not the first time he’d been gone for long stretches of time, but something feels off. There’s worry curling up at the base of his throat, making him swim to the surface more frequently. Steph had given him a look when she caught him, but didn’t say a word. She shouldn’t, really, when she’s been sneaking up to the surface for her own human friend, some small, dangerous human with dark hair and hands that speak more than a voice.
He’d seen her, just once, when he had gone up to splash water and his human then swim away.
Somehow, things felt easier back then. Like the horrors of the world couldn’t reach them among those tide pools. 
It’s reached them now.
Duke’s not expecting to see his human when he swims up to the surface. He’s expecting another quiet night, an empty beach, a dark sky with only the moon casting its lonely light down onto him. 
But when he swims up, his eyes go to a figure on the beach instantly. 
Even from this distance, Duke knows: that’s his human.
He doesn’t think before he’s swimming over, pushing himself faster than he’s ever gone before. It’s low tide, so he can’t get as close as he wants and can’t reach most of the tide pools at all, but it gets him close enough. Human and merfolk vocal chords are different; he can speak in water, but can’t make more than a few hums in air, and humans can’t really do anything in water at all. 
His human is sitting with his knees tucked into his chest on the beach. He’s hiding in his clothes, a hood pulled over his head, but he looks up when Duke drags himself onto the sand. 
Duke can see bruises. Dried blood. A stray tear slipping out of his eyes. 
He wants to ask what’s happened? But all that comes out is a low crooning noise. 
His human laughs, a quiet, bitter noise that makes Duke’s chest tighten uncomfortably. “Hey,” he rasps in a low voice. “Been a while, hasn’t it? I hope you’ve had a better time than I did.”
Duke can’t reach his human. The distance between them isn’t great, but it’s too much. He’s already partially out of the water, hands sinking into the wet sand just out of reach of the waves, and he can’t get any farther out. He reaches a hand out, silently pleading for his human to come closer.
The move makes his human soften, some of the hard edge of tension in his body melt away. He gets up and walks into the water, then sits down next to Duke, taking his hand. 
“I missed you,” he whispers. 
If they were underwater, Duke would be able to say I missed you too. Don’t ever go away so long again. But his human is in no shape to go underwater right now, so Duke presses his hand against his lips and hums lightly. 
They sit in silence for a moment, and Duke realizes that he’s never been this close to any human before. It doesn’t feel dangerous. It feels like relief, to finally have his human in his reach, safe from the rest of the world. 
He gives him human another moment, then reaches out and carefully pushes his hood back. His human allows it, blinking at him slowly. Without the shadow of the hood, Duke can clearly see the bruise coloring his cheekbone and the cuts going down his temple to his jaw. His split lip is still red with blood, and what little of his throat isn’t hidden by his clothes reveals more bruises wrapped around the delicate column of his neck. 
Duke ghosts his fingers over each of these injuries, hating how easily humans hurt each other. His human leans into the touch despite how it must hurt, something devastating in his expression. 
Who hurt you comes out as a questioning trill. Somehow, it gets the point across.
“It’s alright,” his human says. “Really. I’m not even that hurt. It’s just been a long few months. We never talk much, so you wouldn’t know this, but I have to fight a lot of people. Perils of being a hero, you know?”
Duke knows about heroes. More specifically, he knows about mer heroes. He’s considered being one himself, but the currents shifted and he ended up more a loner, banding with the other rejects of the city to live in the fringes and help only those who wander out too far from the marginally safer waters within. 
He hasn’t heard of any human heroes, but then again, he doesn’t know much about humans at all. Nothing beyond the stories all parents tell their children to scare them away from the surface, or the horror stories kids tell each other in the middle of the night when they want to scare each other.
He hums again to let his human know he’s listening. His human has such a nice voice. Why haven’t they done this before? 
It’s always been a push and pull between them, carefully keeping their distance but always circling back to each other. Duke would let his human swim with him, and his human would let Duke sit safely on the other side of a tide pool, tossing sea shells back and forth between each other.
They don’t even know each other’s names. 
He wishes, just for a moment, that he could go back in time and do things better. But he’s happy here with his human and he doesn’t want to lose this either.
He’ll just have to make the best of what he has. It’s how he’s always lived after his parents disappeared.
“This really isn’t that bad,” his human says, “I’ve taken worse hits before. It’s just that I couldn’t transform before the attack started, so now my human form is bruised too.”
…Human form? The more Duke hears, the more questions he has. 
Duke hums at a lower octave, placing a hand over his human’s chest. 
His human laughs lightly. “Yeah, I guess we’ve never really talked much about ourselves, did we? I’m human, don’t worry, just not all the time. I… actually, I died a few years ago. But I came back partially. So I’m also half dead still and I can transform into a ghost to fight threats. I’m a hero called Phantom. Actually, Danny Phantom since I was stupid enough to just give out my first name when I started out. In my defense, my brain was still a little fried.”
There is so much he wants to say to that. He tries, and makes a series of low hums and clicks in the back of his throat, staring at Danny (he finally got his human’s name!) incredulously.
“I promise I’m fine,” Danny continues. “It was just a bit rough. As soon as I get some time to recover, I’ll be good as new! And I really did miss you, you know. Didn’t even go home first, just come straight here.”
That’s honestly really sweet. Duke hums again, a lighter pitch, and takes hold of Danny’s wrist and tugs him towards deeper waters. 
“What? You want me to go in?”
Duke nods, already shuffling his way back out of the sand. 
He expects to look awkward during the process. What he most definitely doesn’t expect is for Danny to easily pick him up and walk them both into the ocean.
Listen. Duke is not a small mer. He’s big. He’s got a long, heavy tail and wide fins going down his back, his forearms, and the sides of his tail. It’s a struggle for him to fit into seaweed nests with his friends during the colder seasons, often left to balance on the edge with his tail hanging out. His friends struggle to pull him through the water with his weight. His parents weren’t able to hold him much after he started growing.
None of this matters to Danny, who acts as if Duke weights nothing at all. 
To his great embarrassment, his fins flare in appreciation for Danny’s strength. He was not expecting a human to be so strong, but Duke’s not about to lie to himself and say it’s not attractive. 
He trills to Danny, who laughs again, then falls into the water, taking them both under. 
Duke doesn’t hesitate. He grabs hold of Danny and swims them further out. He stays close to the surface so Danny can rise for air as needed, but he makes no move to leave Duke’s side even after a few minutes.
He glances back, concerned, when he sees that Danny is watching him with dark eyes, not breathing at all despite being conscious.
Danny holds up a finger and closes his eyes. Two rings of light appear around his waist, then split apart and pass over his body. Instantly, Danny’s body becomes lighter, as if Duke’s hand is grasping at a current on the seabed. His hair turns white and his eyes glow from how bright of a green they are, but there’s something inhuman about his features now, something that makes him look different beyond just physical features. 
Well. Danny did say he could transform.
Now that they’re underwater, Duke can finally speak. The first thing he asks is, “What was that?”
Danny grins at him. “That,” he says, speaking with ease as if he’s not underwater at all, “was my transformation. And this is my ghost form. Quite the look, isn’t it?”
“You can talk down here?! Also, hi, my name’s Duke. Since I never introduced myself.”
“Ghosts can do a lot of things,” Danny answers with a cheeky grin. “It’s nice to finally know your name. I’ve been calling you glowfish in my head this whole time.”
“Glowfish?”
“Yeah. Because you, you know,” Danny gestures vaguely at him, “Glow.”
Duke glances down at his back fins, which are indeed glowing. They flare a bit from embarrassment, which just makes the dots of light lining the fins more visible. He doesn’t glow a lot, keeping a tight hold of that ability, but sometimes it comes out anyways when he’s feeling especially happy.
And apparently, he’s always very happy around Danny. 
It’s a good thing Danny doesn’t know what that means, because if anyone of his friends found out, they’d laugh at how obvious he’s being. Drawbacks of being somewhat bioluminescent: anyone familiar with mers who have this feature know exactly what the glow means. 
“Right,” he says just a beat too late. “Well, now that we know each other’s names, can you tell me how you really feel? Those injuries didn’t look too good.”
“It’s fine, really! I take harder hits all the time.”
“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”
Danny doesn’t answer for a long moment, then sighs. “Yeah. It still hurts.”
“Stay with me for tonight,” he says. “You’ll be safe. You can rest and heal and I’ll keep you safe from anything that comes looking for you.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I want to.”
Danny doesn’t put up much of a fight. He must be exhausted. “Yeah, alright. Take me away, Duke. You know, this is like those stories about sirens luring sailors down into the depths.”
“Well, I am a siren.”
“Wait, really?”
“Yeah. I take after my mom. She’s the one who taught me how to sing.”
“I guess it’s a good thing we’re friends so I don’t have to worry about being dragged down to my watery death.”
Duke snorts. “Good thing you’re already a ghost then. Not much I can do to you down here.”
He swims down, heading towards a small cavern in a sea rock that he’s claimed as his own, leading Danny into it. The light from his fins illuminates the entrance and the rocks within, a narrow passage that goes in for a few meters before opening up into a larger space full of carefully tended to seaweed and starfish decorating the walls. 
There’s a nook tucked away in the back wall where he’s set up a seaweed bed, the plant braided together into something more solid. It’s big enough to fit his tail, which means it’s big enough for him and Danny. 
“Here,” he says, helping Danny down. “Get some sleep. Then you can tell me about what happened in the morning and we’ll take it from there.”
“I’m glad you’re here Duke,” Danny whispers, curling up on his side.  He holds Duke’s hand, twining their fingers together, and it’s as nice as it is strange to feel how cold Danny is in this form when he was so warm as a human. 
“I’ll always be here for you. You just need to come back to me.”
Danny hums, but doesn’t answer. It’s alright; Duke’s used to his loved ones leaving. He knows he can’t make them stay. All he can do is hope they return one day.
It’s been a long time since he’s had anyone in his home. There’s a communal cave where his friends stay that he visits when he gets lonely, but this place used to be for his family. Now it’s just him.
Him and Danny. 
The last time there was song in these walls, his mother was still around, singing him lullabies. 
Looking down at Danny, curled up and so strangely fragile looking, Duke feels the song build up in his chest. It slips out in low, soft notes, an old melody passed down through generations of their family. 
He sings Danny to sleep.
He sings and sings and sings until all his nightmares are soothed and dawn is almost upon them. 
It’s all he can do, so Duke sings and hopes it’s enough to keep Danny close to him for just a little longer.
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justarandomlambblog · 18 days
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I was possessed by a thought
Modern-ish au but in a "thousands of years post-canon universe"
In which Lamb did not spare Narinder and when they saved the Bishops from Purgatory, actually put them to rest (aka sent them to the After) and oops, the Bishops + Narinder accidentally reincarnated while the Lamb wasn't watching
(Part 2 here)
In this life, the Bishops are still siblings and all were born with magic; Narinder became a priest, and though the other Bishops were raised in the temple alongside him they chose to pursue careers outside of the priesthood. Heket runs a restaurant (of course), Kallamar makes jewelry and sells crystals (he has healing magic so his crystals are literal healing crystals :) ), Leshy is a gardener and Shamura runs a bookshop (I'm sure you're noticing a theme here- their past lives are affecting their new ones). Their past lives' injuries have actually carried over, only instead of being injuries they're disabilities they were born with; Shamura their memory issues, Kallamar is deaf, Heket is mute, Leshy is blind, and Narinder has chronic pain (he WAS in chains for a thousand years, his muscles were ATROPHIED and his joints destROYED, and you cannot convince me otherwise). Not shown here; Narinder also uses a cane and on his really bad days a wheelchair.
Heket: Get a whole pumpkin Narinder, who can't lift more than 20 pounds:
Why do Narinder (and the Bishops) look the same and have the same name? Well. The world may have forgotten them, but the universe hasn't.
Aym and Baal are immortals from their time in the After in this world, and though at first they were resistant to helping the Lamb, eventually they saw they needed Help™ and had no idea what they were doing, and having been witness and aid to Narinder's job for centuries they knew how to help. Over the millennia they fell into the old familiar role of being the guardians of Death (Forneus is also an immortal so don't worry they're not separated again) and are in a constant state of Done With Lamb's Shit (/affectionate).
... I actually really love how Lamb turned out here. It was fun drawing them Older. And quite a flip with making them look older than Narinder. The society that's been built up is still religious but no one recognizes Lamb because they've changed so much over the last two thousand years, and the fact they're a sheep doesn't raise any red flags as sheep have migrated to the Lands from other continents. They're rare but not unheard of.
The Crown fits in by disguising as various types of pets, though no matter its form it always has one eye. This time it's a bird, and it recognized Narinder from a mile away :) The mind forgets but the soul remembers....
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Some world building for the world of my yellow oc
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fictionadventurer · 4 months
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The Little House books are actually great inspiration for worldbuilding, because their working class perspective reminds you to think about all the work that goes into getting the resources needed for daily life.
Where does the food come from? Who cooks it? Where does the fabric for clothes come from? Who spins it, weaves it, sews it? What do you use for heat? Light? Transportation? Can you get these resources yourself from the local landscape or do you buy them from somewhere else? What happens if something breaks or runs out?
Not all those details are needed for every story, but these books show how useful it can be to consider those details. And remind you that, if you tell it well enough, sometimes those details can be the story.
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