Tumgik
#also ray lore drop . hes named ray like a ray of light
emperornero · 8 months
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he contains multitudes
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stingraywipe · 15 days
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What’s your top three beloved Pokemon? And if you have them— your top three most hated Pokemon?
omg hi Sofie!! :0 Get ready because I have a whole lot to say about this.
Most Beloved:
Number 1: Squirtle
My absolute favorite is squirtle. What's funny about this is I can't really pinpoint a specific reason why I like him so much. My first pokemon game was alpha sapphire, and I didn't play gen 1 until Let's Go Eevee, so it's not a nostalgia factor. I think my brain just subconsciously selected him back when I was watching the Indigo League anime in middle school. The squirtle squad showed up and my brain was like "Yeah. This guy. He's awesome. This is the one." And he has been my number 1 favorite fella ever since then, and as a consequence he is the pokemon I have the most merch of and it isn't really close.
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Please keep in mind this is just what I have in my apartment where I live for college, and that I have even more stuff in my bedroom back at home. Now that I think about it, Koopa Troopa is my favorite mario character, so maybe I have an affinity for characters that are just little turtles. Either way, water is also my favorite type, which means even more bonus points for squirtle.
Number 2: Riolu
Riolu's high ranking has been somewhat of a recent development for me. I've always liked lucario, but I didn't see the light that was riolu until after I watched Pokemon Journeys. Ash's riolu was so silly and adorable, and I always felt so bubbly inside when he was on screen. This shift in my preference is probably due to me developing a major soft spot for cute characters/creatures over the past few years. Most of my favorite pokemon at this point are just little guys because of it. Anyways, the reason I like him so much is because of the aura control him and lucario are capable of. I've always loved aura as a power system; the idea of being able to harness one's own life energy and see it in others is just so cool to me. I especially like how it's established as its own concept outside of moves in pokemon, making it something super unique that only riolu's evolutionary line can take advantage of. I have a lot of lore/worldbuilding ideas for PMD that would utilize aura. For example, Milo, the protagonist of the PMD verse I've been brainstorming, on is a riolu with much stronger aura than normal due to him being a pokemon with a human soul. I have a lot of ideas for how I could use this concept to drive plot points or character arcs, and I might share more in the future if I ever get time to start solidifying a story.
By the way, Milo's partner, Lilly, is a squirtle. No way I don't give both of my two favorites the spotlight.
Number 3: Sprigatito
My love of sprigatito is really quite simple. I love cats. So much. They are easily my number one favorite animal of all time. My Instagram feed is covered in them. So imagine my excitement when I saw that one of the new generation 9 starters was a kitty. My violet team is my favorite team I've ever used in a pokemon game, and the sprigatito line is a massive part of why I love it so much. Sprigatito is adorable, and my meowscarada was so much fun to use after he evolved. On top of that, sprigatito's depiction in Pokemon Horizons makes me love it even more. It's literally just a cat. It loafs. It makes biscuits.. It gets annoyed at the mildest inconvenience. Liko squishes its beans. Plus it releases a super sweet scent when you cuddle it as a bonus. It's so perfect. It's like Game Freak was like "Yeah this is the perfect pokemon for Ray, put it in the game." I have a sprigatito character in my PMD verse named Mayple, but I can't share much about her because it would mean dropping pretty big spoilers for a plot point I have planned.
Honorable Mentions: Greninja and Ceruledge
I love ninjas. I love frogs. Greninja is both. And ceruledge is just objectively one of the coolest pokemon designs ever.
In terms of behated pokemon, I don't have many that I personally despise. It's more so that I feel indifferent about them, and I would simply prefer not to use them on my teams. Usually I don't have any real reason to dislike the ones I do hate; I think it just stems from a gut feeling. The biggest one off the top of my head is the tepig line. I don't know what it is, something just feels off about them. I also dislike incineroar. I like litten and torracat a lot, but they really dropped the ball with the final evolution for me.
That's about all I have. This was really fun to do! Thank you so much for submitting this ask. I look up to you and your work a lot, and it made my night when I got the notification. I'm still pretty new to Tumblr, so I don't know exactly how I'm supposed to do things around here. I want to try to meet more people here, but my social anxiety and tendency to overthink online interactions usually shuts down anything before it can happen. Because of that, being able to answer something simple like this means a lot!! Thank you!! :D
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iliketrainmen · 2 years
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Hey all, decided to drop a little bit of Glitchfarer au lore in a text post; the next comic is in a bit of formatting limbo at the moment and it may be a while until it gets released due to continuing irl conflicts n stuff (such as needing to study HARD for the coming finals)
Sorry for any misspellings, wrote this when I was tired yet still inspired to do something for this funky little AU (which is pretty light on lore, but still deserves a little bit anyways for fun). Hope you guys like :)
CW: Derealization, Panic/Anxiety, Stranger Danger, Being Alone in a Bad Situation, Slight Blood
——;
In terms of glitchmons themselves, MissingNo is- of course- the first glitchmon Emmet has ever really encountered in his life. However, it is not the first individual that was of glitch origin that Emmet happened to stumble across.
When they were kids, Ingo and Emmet loved playing hide and seek. Their favorite part wasn't the hiding nor the seeking, but to confuse the ever living hell out of their parents or Uncle Drayden when they try to figure out which twin they found. During one of these games, Emmet traveled deep into lostlorn forest, wanting to give their parents an extra challenge. However, of course, he ended up getting lost as the tree-top leaves got denser, letting less and less light through. Everything around him looked the same; he couldn't tell where he had come from nor where he should be going. There was pure silence, the leaves still despite heavy winds gushing through the area.
Emmet knew he must've been out for a long time when the little light within the forest started to fade, causing his heartbeat to skyrocket. He could barely see the brush in front of him, and could only faintly make out the eyes of some kind of nocturnal pokemon within the darkness surrounding him. It was panic inducing— it felt like he was choking on the looming void surrounding him. He held his hand out in-front of him, but his fingertips were obscured by the ever-darkening night that threatened to swallow him whole. Tears bubbled up in his eyes as he bit down on the collar of his shirt, his hands gripping the strands of his denim overalls. He never liked the dark. He hated being alone even more. Those two being combined together was making this a total nightmare.
A shift in presence caught his attention— on his left, a familiar frame. Despite the forest being so dark he couldn't see anything, he could hear the rustling of forestry, the body a person who may also be lost in here. His eyes flickered around his surroundings, searching, craving for validation of his belief. There— where the last specks of the sun rays crept through a weakened tree's branches!
The person had the same outfit as him, the same hairstyle, the same height, frame, everything. Yet, Emmet could tell it wasn't Ingo. He could just tell. Where a lovely deep azure coated his brother's undershirt, there laid a sickly off-white. The child's ears were tinged with... something. Something off-putting, something not quite right that Emmet couldn't name. His breath hitched; this was definitely not his brother, but as far as he knew, it was the only other person who this forest. This could be his only chance! Emmet cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled towards the individual's direction, "Hey! You! Do you know how to depart from here and back to Nimbasa city?"
Something cold chilled the air, and although Emmet didn't have proof, he was almost certain it was because the person in front of him was now aware of him. The light dimmed, the sparks leaving— perhaps fleeting from what may have been a major mistake on his end. His breath came our shallow, eyes widening as the figure shuffled in place, before turning around to look at him. It wore a twisted copy of his own face, a mimicry of his well-practiced expression. Was it a zoroark? He'd heard rumors about then nesting here, but something about the way every alarm in his head was firing off said otherwise.
A zoroark would at least hesitate.
This— Emmet knew it would not.
Emmet knew he had to run, but Emmet's legs would not move.
Emmet felt the world slow down around him as the creature approached, it's demented grin stretching beyond what was humanly possible, revealing teeth that did not belong to human nor zoroark.
Emmet was afraid.
It's limbs distorted in ways that should not be physically possible.
Emmet wondered if he was going to die.
It towered over him now.
Emmet wondered if anyone would find him.
The facade of Ingo faded from it's appearance, but the ever widening grin did not.
Emmet wondered if he would scream.
It lunged at him like a frenzied animal.
Emmet did.
.
.
.
Emmet had been found unconscious by the edge of the forest; Ingo had been the first one to find him. He was mostly unharmed, asides from the small pooling of blood on his head that stained his hair a slightly pinkish pigment. Only a few hours later, Emmet had awoken from whatever happened, and seemed incredibly paranoid around everyone, including his own brother. He also had nightly night terrors in the form of a human-like individual that crept by his doorframe, only appearing in the shadows to haunt him. It may have taken him months to be comfortable around his brother again, but the event in the forest still lingers in his mind to this day. Especially since the night terrors, although becoming less and less frequent as time passed, still occurred very often, even by the time of Ingo's disappearance.
It had been several months into Emmet's accidental journey into glitch city to discover who it was that had been haunting him for most of if not all of his life.
The individual's name was Zzazz.
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suprnovr · 7 months
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[ID: A digital painting of Billie, the Demigoddess of Death and their God Kas. Billie is depicted here, in the centre of the painting, as a red slime-folk woman clutching at a yellow sword through her chest. Her eyes are glowing the same yellow and all around her are rays of light coming from where the sword went through her chest. Below her are hundreds of blue skeletons reaching up at her, clawing at each other and her legs. They all reach out for her. Within them however is a singular hand poking out on the left hand side of the screen. This hand is the same shade of red as Billie and reaches out for her own hand in the style of “The Creation of Adam” by Michelangelo. The Background is red and sports the dragon like figure of Kas, who towers over Billie and the skeletons. His hands are clawed and positioned out towards Billie as though to viciously grab her. His face, though slightly obscured by Billie and the Sword, is malicious as he bears down on the Demigod. End ID]
I did this painting a long while back for a palette challenge with a friend! Just realised that I did not share it with you all so enjoy :)
also I am going to try and add more IDs to my posts here, just so that my artwork may be enjoyed by others
I love Billie so much. They are a Genderfluid slime folk and every time I draw him I love making all the little slime droplets in his hair. I admit that I don’t draw her more masculine form as much as I probably should as I still need to redesign it slightly but hey, maybe that’s an idea for my next post!
Don’t forget to check my other socials, all with the same name here, for animations and more in depth lore! Also drop a question here! I’d love to answer any you have :D
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phantomrose96 · 3 years
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Flash in the Eyes Part 2
(Part 1)
More fixed!Flynn lore? More fixed!Flynn lore
..................
Danny lay awake. He kept his eyes glued to the bedroom ceiling, studded with glow-in-the-dark stars from corner to corner. They doused him in the tiniest shimmer of ethereal light – the second source of light in the room – after his phone, which he gripped loosely in the hand dangling off the bed. The phone cast its own faint shimmer outward, a ray into the bleak night.
And he himself made for the third source of light, he supposed. That pulse of iridescent green from his eyes, which he felt like the beginnings of a headache building inside his head, had been spurred to the front by the trickle of anxiety that kept his nerves alight now at 3:30 am.
The plastic stars above. His phone glowing outward. (His radioactive eyes, pinned to Aunt Alicia.)
Danny was not allowed to forget the incident. He was not allowed to move on. Even home, it followed him.
His phone, with that dim light, was open to a single message that had been plaguing him all day. A single Facebook message, from a profile wishing to connect, with no profile picture, no history, no other friends, made day-of. “danny. this is your aunt alicia. never would of thought id be using of one these computers. wierd things. any way. wanted to apoligize about scarring you. I have a mean face maddie knows. i dont have a computer. this is in the libary in town. but hoping you culd call me on the phone. wanted to ask you somthing more. thanks. xxx-xxx-xxxx…”
Danny left the message on read. He figured it didn’t much matter that his read-receipts were on. Alicia made it clear she had no access to a computer, or likely internet for that matter. This was a message cast into the void, framed as an apology, but fishing for information that made Danny’s skin crawl to think about. Alicia could talk to his mom any time. But she had chosen not to. She’d chosen to contact Danny directly, through a means of great hassle for a woman so sworn-off technology, living so far away from proper civilization. And she’d chosen to do so after seeing that flash in his eyes.
This wasn’t like fighting ghosts. Those were pure physical scuffles which ended in him casting the creature off into the portal to (hopefully) never be heard from again. This instead was an anxiety pricking along every nerve of his skin, deep-seeded and deep-sewn from the woman who terrified him all these many years, whose connection to his ghost-hunting parents sent his brain into spirals of dread for all the what-ifs he conjured.
“You seem deep in contemplation. Perhaps I should come back later?”
Danny sat bolt-upright, spinning fast enough to see new stars spawning in his vision. He blinked them away, and sucked in a sharp inhale of breath as he snapped his head to the side.
Half-translucent, idly floating, Vlad Plasmius appraised him from the other side of he bedroom, studying Danny the way a teacher might study a struggling student.
Danny’s transformation and leap from bed came as one. His covers blew back, phone clattering to the floor forgotten.
“Plas—”
“Yes yes, ‘it is I, Plasmius’. I believe we’ve done our battle cry introductions enough times for the audience to get the point.”
“What are you doing here?!”
“Just dropping in on old friends.” Plasmius, still floating, performed a motion as if to sit. He swung one leg over the other, and reduced the miasma of pressure that his aura sent off. He was relaxed, and conversational, and this made Danny’s neck hair prickle all the more.
“All the way from Wisconsin! Yeah just, dropping in at 3 in the morning! Yeah, well, sorry but I don’t buy it, Plasmius. And I’m sending you back to Wisconsin now that you—”
“Seems we’ve both been traveling quite a bit out of state. Tell me was it a fun little vacation? A ghost hunting trip?”
“It—” Danny’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know we were gone?”
“Oh easy, I have ghost sentinels pinned on your house at all hours. They feed me this information.”
“Noted. Thanks for the tip. I’ll be sure to blast them out of existence next time I’m out.”
“I’d love to see you try. They’re masters of stealth.” Vlad flashed a grin. “I have to say I am quite disappointed to see you all back so soon – must have been a short trip. Where did you go?”
“Not telling you. Now why are you here?”
“I’ll tell you if you tell me.”
Danny bit down the urge to sucker-punch Vlad on spot. “We were visiting our aunt. Nothing special. Not everything is some big…I dunno… ghost conspiracy, Vlad. Now why are you here?”
“I was simply hoping to catch the house unguarded. You know, explore the lab, see the new contraptions that Maddie designed and Jack botched, perhaps sprinkle some cyanide in the oaf’s cornflakes box.”
“Like I’d let you--!”
“Aunt, did you say, Daniel? Alicia, perchance?”
Danny gave no response. He felt only the twist in his gut, which wrought a smile to Vlad’s face.
Vlad clapped his hands together and continued. “That is a name that brings back memories! She and Maddie were remarkably close. I heard about her constantly – given of course that I am a fantastic listener who never forgets a name or a face, unlike some fools who can’t even remember birthdays – but yes as Maddie’s best listener and best supporter, I feel like I know Alicia personally. Tell me, how is her husband Dale doing? How’s little Flynn? Not so little anymore, I imagine.”
“Don’t… talk about my aunt. That’s weird.” Danny floated backwards, coalescing a lick of flame in his palm. “Also, goes to show how much you know these days. Alicia and Dale have been divorced for like ten years now. And there’s no Flynn. You sure you’re that great a listener?”
Vlad quirked an eyebrow. “Ah, shame how divorce never seems to happen to the right people. Has Alicia tried telling Maddie it’s not too late to follow suit?” Danny unleashed his pulse of energy. Vlad blocked it with a single dismissive wave of his gloved hand. “And Daniel I am referring to your cousin Flynn, about whom I am absolutely not mistaken. Maddie and I were sophomores in college when he was born. Maddie flooded me with pictures of the boy, chubby little thing with red hair like Maddie’s. They moved her to tears, some of them. It was formative for me. The moment I realized that was the future I wished for myself, that I could bring Maddie that same joy with a family of our own. Shame how children don’t seem to happen to the right people either.”
Danny gave no response. He only lingered in the air, drifting slightly, the wafting residue of his attack trailing along his palm.
“You don’t seem so convinced,” Vlad commented.
“I’m not. Aunt Alicia doesn’t have kids. I don’t have any cousins. Unless you count whatever Danielle is.”
“A clone. You have to know the cousin thing was made up.”
“Alicia doesn’t have kids. Bottom line.”
“Did she sign him away in the divorce? That’s cold. I wonder if I could convince Jack to do the same with you.”
“Aunt Alicia divorced without kids, dumbass!” Danny swept a hand out. “She talks about her divorce all the time like it’s the best thing that happened to her, and she’s said how easy it was with just her and Dale and no one else. I don’t know how many other ways I can tell you I don’t have cousins, and I definitely don’t have a cousin named Flynn. You’re making yourself look like an idiot.”
“The opinion of a 14-year-old means very little to me.” Vlad dipped forward, closing the gap between him and Danny by a few feet. The air howled cold behind him. “However I am utterly intrigued to know what became of Flynn then. Clearly something worth keeping from you. Drowned in a pool? Carried off by a bear? Perhaps his parents made a ghost portal a decade prior to yours and he zapped it on from the inside.”
“You’re not funny.”
“I am hilarious, young man.” Vlad uncrossed his legs, still floating, but as though standing once more. “You should respond to your aunt’s message.” Vlad nodded his head to the phone on the floor. “She seems eager to speak to you. Maybe she can tell you what happened to dear little Flynn. And if you don’t, well perhaps I will stop by tomorrow morning for some tea, and ask Maddie myself what became of him. You’re welcome to be in the room when I do.”
“Hey!”
A flash of light momentarily blinded Danny, followed by a pulse of energy, and when Danny opened his eyes again he had to blink through stars.
Nothing remained in the night.
Only the ceiling studded stars above, and the glow of the phone below, and the consumptive chilling green flashing from his own eyes.  
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wwilloww · 4 years
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athair lusa | pjm
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athair lusa, the ground ivy, springing up from the soil with rich, purple flowers and broad green leaves.  
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Origin: Ireland
Pairing: Jimin x FaePrince!Taehyung
Genre: Folklore. Suspense. Fae!Au.  
Rating: NC-17
WC: 2.4k
Summary: “Is it not a strange request,” Jimin says, “to ask me to dance when there is no music?” While on his way to draw water from the well, Jimin slips on a rock. When he stands up again, the world around him seems unrecognizable, as if everything has been dusted with an unfamiliar enchantment. 
Warnings: Possessive behavior.  
A/N: This story, also known as “The Fairy Dance,” is a story I grew up to, one that was told to me over and over. I consider this to be part of a larger personal project to queer the stories I grew up on. It’s an effort to normalize the presence of queerness in lore and unravel gendered expectations within folktales. Because of this I’ve done my best to stick to the oral telling of this story in both content and style - meaning the writing differentiates itself significantly from my usual style! This project is special to me and I truly hope you enjoy it. I can’t wait to hear what you think of it.
Thank you to @jingabitch​ for helping me when I felt most stuck with this! Thanks a million to my love @ot7always​ for editing the image in this banner and listening to me ramble. And of course a hUGE THANKS to the lovely folk in BTS Smut Hub for being my constant inspiration and motivation.
And finally, this is part of @ksmutclub​’s Twisted Fairytale collaboration!
masterlist
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Athair-Lusa.
In a town on the western most coast of the Isle, there lived a young man with hair that shone like the rays of August sun. He was beloved by the townspeople, known for the enchanting melodies that lifted from his lips like birdsong, ensnaring anyone in range. His name was Jimin.
One day in late November, as the night began to draw in, Jimin set down his reading and readied himself to go out into the darkness. He preferred the stillness of sunset and often went out at this time, just to hear the soft hymn of the world slipping slowly into sleep.
Now, it has long been known that the Veil between worlds is thinnest in November. As the remaining veins of summer fade from the land, spirits and creatures of the other worlds come to press up against the thin border between their world and ours. Even nighttime comes to linger, snatching time away from the golden fingers of the sun.
On this night, Jimin decided to take his walk to the well to gather water. He swung his wooden bucket over his shoulder and set off into the darkness. The trees stood tall above him, watching his path. Jimin felt the hair on his neck raise, as if something was watching him from the shadows. However, rather than turning home, he lifted his face to the night sky and sang. The music spilling from his lips split through the darkness of the night, and Jimin felt a sense of peace wash over him.
As the small stone structure of the well came into sight, his foot slipped. He could feel his ankle twisting, and then the feeling of falling through empty space. The air wooshed up around him as he fell.
His back hit the hard earth of the path, crushing the breath out of his lungs. For a moment, Jimin simply lay there, taking deep breaths to calm the fright in his body.
When he lifted his head, his old wooden bucket was nowhere to be seen. Instead of a path hardened by thousands of years of travelers, Jimin lay on a soft field of grass, shimmering emerald green beneath the full moon. Around him, everything seemed as if it had been touched by an enchantment. The trees, whose leaves had dropped a month ago, were now blossoming with flowers of the most brilliant colors. The chill of the winter air was replaced with a soft and warm breeze, lifted off a summer sea. And as he looked up at the sky, the moon hung twice as large, as if she had come down from her high throne in the sky to take a closer look at the goings-on of the people below.
As Jimin sat up, he saw a great crowd gathered a short distance away. As his vision cleared, he realized that they were circled round a fire that danced and leaped and seemed to reach out to the figures surrounding it. As if his mind had been wiped clean of thought, Jimin stood and began to move towards the crowd, mystified by their tall frames and slender figures.
Jimin himself was of average height, his body built like the land. Ready to work, ready to dance. But at this moment in time, Jimin’s body drew him forward towards the beings that stood round the fire, till at last, he stood in the very midst of them.
They held onto their silence, watching his every step. It was at this moment that he thought to be afraid. But as he made to step backward, to step out of their circle, he realized he could not.
Panic began to rise in his throat like bile, setting his muscles alight. Just as he opened his mouth to scream, the crowd around him turned and parted and a handsome young man stepped into view. Jimin’s eyes widened as he took in the figure, who walked like a prince. He wore a red sash, deep as freshly drawn blood. A golden band dressed his long dark hair, shining like the sky on the eve of a new moon.
Jimin’s heart thrummed in his chest as he realized the handsome prince was approaching him. He walked slowly towards him, allowing his eyes to rove over the young man. When he finally reached him, he bowed and extended a hand. An offering.
“Is it not a strange request,” Jimin said, “to ask me to dance when there is no music?”
The prince raised his head from the deep bow and swept his hand into the air. Instantly, the sweetest music carried through the night, surrounding them. He took Jimin’s hand with one of his own, wrapping the other one tightly around his waist. Jimin gasped as his chest was brought to the prince’s, their closeness sending warmth to his cheeks.
"What is your name, dear stranger?" Jimin asked, his brow furrowed. His words seemed to stick in his throat, bewilderment flooding his mind. Such a handsome stranger had never wrapped him up like this before, in such beauty, in such enchantment.
The prince smirked. "You may call me Taehyung."
"Are you a prince of these people?"
"If that is the word you use—then yes."
Jimin opened his mouth to ask more, but the Prince silenced him with a twirl, sending all thought of questioning the strange being before him out of his mind.
They danced until the moon became tired and went to sleep beneath the darkness of the horizon and the stars took their leave from the dance floor. As the prince twirled him round the fire, it seemed as if Jimin was gliding through the air. He had always been known by the townsfolk for his light touch and graceful step. But in the prince’s arms, Jimin’s body felt different. The strain of the movements was eased and he felt boundless energy spring up in his chest beneath the attentive gaze of the prince.
"I have never seen a man dance with your grace," the Prince mused, his gaze falling to Jimin's lips. "Or known one to capture such beauty in his every movement."
Jimin was not used to such flattery. His cheeks were painted with his embarrassment, he ducked his head. The Prince was quick to lift his chin, bringing his face ever-so-close.
“Do you like me, sweet boy?” the Prince asked, tilting his head.
“I do not know you,” Jimin replied, slowly. “How do I know if I like you if I have just met you?”
“There is an eternity to get to know me.” A smirk flashed across the Prince’s sharp features before he pulled Jimin tightly against his tall frame and spun him further into the dance.
Twirling around the fire, it became easy to forget the rest of the world. For that moment, all that existed was the feeling of his feet leaping off the ground, and the low music, and the feeling of being held so tightly by his partner.
Just as Jimin began to feel like time was slipping away from him, the figures around him stilled and the music slowed to a complete halt. The prince still had his arms wrapped around the smaller man, his face pressed close and curious.
"Will you dine with us tonight, dear Jimin?" the prince asked, his voice threaded with sweetness. Jimin's gaze fell to the prince's lips where a small smile played along the pink, plush corner. He wondered when the Prince had learned his name.
Before he could answer, the ground rumbled and split open, a long staircase descending into the darkness of the earth. The prince held out a hand, and hesitating, Jimin took it. Despite the warmth of the tall man's palm, Jimin's skin erupted in goosebumps.
The prince led him down the flight of steps, the rest of the dancers following silently behind. It seemed as if the stairs might never end, the rock around them becoming darker and warmer as they descended. After an unspeakable time, the steps widened and a great hall appeared before them, lit by thin candles that stood as tall as Jimin. As he looked up at the ceiling of the hall, he realized there was no roof, despite the depth to which they had descended. Instead, a yawning darkness looked down upon the company and untethered, unsourced lights bobbed gently through the air as if upon an invisible current. Before them lay a great table, heaped with every delicacy Jimin had ever conceived of and decanters filled with the most aromatic wines.
The Prince squeezed his hand tenderly, guiding him to the head of the table. There, the Prince took the golden plated chair and motioned for Jimin to take the one beside it. Gratefully, he bowed his head and slipped silently into the seat, admiring the gentle merriment and splendor laid before him.
As Jimin took the scene before him in, the Prince leaned closer to him, reaching out to twirl a piece of his light hair between his fingers.
“I’ve always wanted this,” the Prince said, his eyes never leaving the man’s hair.
“W-what?”
The Prince seemed to catch himself and pulled himself out of his reverie.
“I am a collector of beautiful things,” he said, as if that explained his strange words.
“I don’t understand.”
The Prince smiled softly, running his finger down Jimin’s nose and over his lips.
“Then drink and be merry,” he sang, his voice strung together in the most beautiful melody.
A dark-haired lady came between the Prince and Jimin, holding a jewel-encrusted decanter. Bowing her head, she first filled the Prince's cup, her hands wrapping slender and delicate around the silver handle. But as Jimin watched, he realized there was a slight tremble to her movements. He looked up at her, only to see her eyes darting to and from the Prince and his newest companion.
The young lady came around Jimin's other side, and as she leaned over to pour his golden goblet full of the sweet wine, she whispered in his ear, "Eat no food, and drink no wine or you will never see your home again."
With that, the woman stood abruptly and disappeared down one of the many hallways that spotted the great chamber.
Jimin quickly set the cup down on the table. The Prince took note of this, his eyebrows raised in curiosity.
"My dear, sweet Jimin," he said, his voice threading through the air like song. His voice spoke of softness, of tender touches exchanged in the dark. And yet, as Jimin gazed upon him, he saw the coldness in the Prince's gaze. "Do you not enjoy the taste of my wine?"
"No, no," he said, quick to unravel the tension of the moment. "I am simply not thirsty."
The Prince leaned into him, a smile spreading across his lips. "After all that dancing, you must be thirsty." He brought the cup to Jimin's lips, but he held his mouth shut.
The others at the table had fallen silent to watch the Prince hold the goblet to the man’s lips.
A large one with silver hair that fell to his waist stood abruptly from his chair, knocking it back in the process. "Whoever comes to our table must drink with us," he growled, grabbing Jimin's arm. A deep shock ran through him, stopping his heart.
At that moment a red-haired lass, her hair split into intricate braids, snatched Jimin's free hand and tugged him from the grasp of the large silver-haired being.
"Run!" she commanded, tugging Jimin towards the stairs. The pair wove their way towards the entrance, dodging the grasp of the dancers.
Around him, Jimin could hear the bellowing anger of the Prince, echoing off the walls of the hall as if he stood in every corner. Chairs and platters crashed to the floor as his subjects jumped up, attempting to stop his exit.
While Jimin was not large and while he did not hold the brute strength that many men boasted about, he was graceful and swift. Guided by the red-haired woman's agile steps, his pace was quick, as if he had learned this kind of dance many many years ago.
The pair sprinted up the steps, hand-in-hand, until they emerged into the dark night. The coolness of the early winter air washed over them, bathing their red faces and stinging their lungs. From the satchel that hung round her waist, the woman withdrew a vine. She grabbed Jimin’s hand, opening it up so she could place the plant securely. With tenderness, she wrapped her hand around his, closing it in a fist.
"You are safe for the time being," she said, her breath heavy with effort. "Take this, and hold it until you reach home. No one can harm you." Jimin opened his palm to look down upon the large-leafed plant. Athair-Lusa. Ground ivy.
"Thank you," he whispered.
The woman nodded, a sad smile playing across her lips. Her eyes shone with the kind of grief that only one who knows their own destiny can hold.
Jimin could hear the sounds of footsteps running up the stairs and so he took the white and green plant and turned his back on the field, the stairs, and the man who had held him so tenderly; and he ran. He ran along the sward and through the forests surrounding the town, past the well, and across the path. At last, he reached his home. He threw open the wooden door and locked it behind him.
His heart beat so quickly and furiously he worried it would pound its way straight through his ribcage. Behind his back pressed to the door, he could hear a great sound emerge from the forest and a voice cried out to him—
"The power I had over you is gone through the magic of the herb that ties you to this world. But when you dance again to our music, you will stay with me forevermore, and nothing shall hinder that eternity."
Jimin closed his eyes, clutching the herb to his chest. When he had regained his breath, he made his way over to the small bed tucked in the corner of his small home, folding the leafy plant carefully beneath the collar of his shirt.
It took a while before sleep came for him, and when it did, it was restless and dreamless.
However, Jimin kept the magic branch safely tucked into his clothes every day and the Fae never troubled him.
But it took many years before the sweet, low sound of music and the searing eyes of the Prince left his dreams.
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taglist: @ppersonna​ @thatlongspringnight​ @myimaginationsrunningwild​ @ladyartemesia​ @ezralia-writes​ @ggukcangetit​
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masterlist
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loptyrs-moved · 3 years
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Can you talk more abt ur fandoms ocs? I like your writing a lot and would like to know more abt em
Oh my goodness I’m 🥺🥺🥺🥺 you’re SO sweet thank you!
Well, I have quite a few and some have their own deeper lore stories that go with them. If you guys want more information on them, I can do separate posts on all of them. But Here they are! I’m so excited to share my babies with you!
More is under the cut. The Picrew I used is here.
Ikemen Revolution
Black Army Side
Corrin Fukui
Age: Appears to be in mid-early twenties
Hair: Brick white
Eyes: Blood Red
Height: 4′11
Any other Qualities:
Draconic features -- She’s literally a dragon but not by nature
Curved Opalescent Horns
Shimmery opalescent tail
Wings that also shimmer in the light
retractable?
Pointed ears
Easily frightened by loud noises and sudden movements
stunted growth
Hoards blankets and comfort items
writes in a journal every day 
its one luka got for her and she refuses to write in anything else. she pours her heart out on the pages, and all her memories
she had a brother! but he passed away because of the magic tower :(
turns into a gIANT DRAGON 
ICE ICE BREATH BABY
Was found by Luka while on a patrol near the forbidden forest, lost and afraid, so she was taken in
Had amnesia at first
She actually is an experiment of Amon and she managed to escape
Excellent at sewing and gardening
Sufficient with baking
She’s for Luka! The way they fell for each other was a slow, gradual trust, and mutual understanding. She saw him as a man, as he was, and nothing else.
Sometimes is called Corri
gentle hearted and innocent
but not as innocent as you’d think 
she’s a dragon, and she’s a greedy little one
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Ophelia Dae
Age: 24
Hair: Crimson red
Eyes: Jade green
Height: 5′8
Any other Qualities:
A skilled swordsman, and one of the Chosen Thirteen
9 of Spades baybeee
While she is more accustomed to short swords and sabers, Phelia is a magic user! But she isn’t really in agreement with Ray with his stance on magic
BOMBASTIC AS HELL
BISEXUAL
“Is he bothering you Queen?”
Trans
Was friends with Ray and Fenrir while in school, and was just as much of a hellraiser as them
she was there when the day things went dark happened and was almost taken but that day is a blur for her
phelia REFUSES to talk about it
she still has nightmares
raised by a single mother
TRIVIA! She was an old fire emblem oc i had and she was the daughter of Arvis -- so if you squint when she uses magic you’ll see Valflame
joined the army probably because Fenrir was too, and she was inspired by him 
she joined for her own reasons but he made it easier for her to do it too
his passion was what made her fall for him in the first place
has a personal vendetta against the magic tower for what they did to her and her friends
AND CORRIN JEEZ
will sacrifice herself if necessary to the cause
PROBABLY HAS ALMOST DIED BECAUSE OF IT
Bruh girl
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Amira Nasiri
Age: 22
Hair: Chocolate brown
Eyes: Turquoise blue
Height: 5′3
Any other qualities:
My version of Alice! Difference is that she’s Persian
That’s it
She’s just as spunky as Alice 
however she responds with being called Alice a little different
she’s adamant about being called Amira
At some point she just accepts Seth does it to distance himself
also an avid baker like alice
pISTACIOS
BAKLAVA
Amira is just Alice except she’s just my take on her. 
She has the same vibrant spirit as Alice
and I personally consider Seth the canon route for REASONS
just ask me why fjgdfgjksd
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Red Army Side
Azul Flores
Age: 25
Hair: Raven black
Eyes: Wisteria purple
Height: 5′0
Any Other Qualities:
An old friend of the Queen of Hearts
like she met him when she was 8 years old
fought his bullies when they would give him a hard time when he was a kid
they dated for a WHILE
did NOT work out
HARD CHILDHOOD
Ambitious, hard working young woman who was married into a high standing family on the Red side. Her mother was a teacher and gained the attention of one of the Chosen Thirteen on that side, and got married
Azul is NOT the officer’s daughter. She’s his step daughter
Has had extensive studies on the History of Cradle and of the Red Territory.
Wants to be a Cradle Historian
Works for the Red Army as a personal assistant to the queen
UNINTENTIONAL
THEY ACTUALLY CANT STAND EACH OTHER
Unless....
Look their story is very dramatic and it hurts me every day so please stay tuned with them. 
CUT THROAT BITCH
YOUR DEVIL
DEMON
Heckles Jonah like its her job — she knows him better than anyone elsd, if anyone knows his bs, its her
Bad resting bitch face
Actually really shy, and quiet when in different surroundings
A sweetheart and will cut a bitch for you once she knows u
She is perhaps one of the most transparent, honest, genuine person. there is no bullshit with her. she will tell you her honest thoughts with you
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Cerise Nam
Age: 19
Hair: Berry Pink
Eyes: Petal Pink
Height: 5′2
Any other qualities:
Her mom came to Cradle from a far off place, and set up a food and pastry shop in the Central Quarter. Met her dad. Been there since
They live in Black Territory
She works for her parents and works with the pastries/desserts
loves making desserts from where her parents are from
She knows the Queen of Hearts VERY well since she makes the best mille feuille
Got a job from him actually, and works for the Red Army Headquarters kitchen
Loves to cook and bake!
a little naïve, but she’s a realist
youngest of FIVE kids!!
Morning girl
She may be petite but she can HEAFT heavy bags of flour/rice/dry goods
Met Zero by accident, and crashed into him while in town
love at first sight for her. how can you fault her?
she thinks he’s dreamy... and sweet...
does she flirt with him a little? Cerise can’t help it...
She and Zero have more of a hidden relationship because she fears her parents won’t approve
family stuff -- and she understands
RED ARMY OFFICER?? BLACK TERRITORY GIRL
look im cheesy
dont worry it works out
zero has to consider himself and his own personal stuff too so its a little difficult 
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Non Army Suitor(s)
Lucile Lidell
Age: 20
Hair: Straw blonde
Eyes: Aqua blue
Height: 5'1
Any other qualities:
She and her twin, Noelle, are the actual descendants of the original Alice
Inherited unusual hairpins that were from cradle
More of the 'modern woman stuck in the wrong time' kind of gal
Rebellious
Noelle and Luci: partners in crime
Short skirts galore
Does not give a singular shit of what MEN think of her
Wants to be taken seriously
Sometimes acts like an airhead in order to get attention. She's actually pretty somber as a person and prefers to be in the background as her sister takes the stage
loves her sister more than anyone else in the world
When she and Noelle fall into Cradle, they kind of hightail it and live in the woods with Harr and Loki
Sticks with Harr since he's literally the least threatening man ever
First man to feel safe around
"Excuse me he said NO pickles!"
Will cut a bitch for him, or use magic -- luci will hurt someone if they even think a bout looking at him wrong
Loves to make clothes
'I mended the holes in your cloak for you...' 'Bye Harr, be safe and have a good day.'
'Welcome home, I missed you.'
Puts up a tough girl front but she's just a big softie just like him
Doesn't realize she has a crush on him until shit starts to hit the fan
Actually very vanilla tbh but wants to spoil her bf
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Ikemen Sengoku
Ito Tsunade
Age: 26
Hair: Straw Blonde
Eyes: Molten Gold
Height: 5′5
Any Other Qualities:
Graduate student at the same university as Sasuke 
got stuck in the storm with him and Mai, and was tossed into the sengoku era
but she got separated from Mai
Met Shingen first much to her luck because uh.... lets say Tsunade is aint the sharpest tool in the shed
HEAD EMPTY
ZERO THOUGHTS
AIRHEAD
her aesthetic when she gets there?
TITS OUT
BIG HONKERS BIG TATA
HOT
her head might be empty but her tits are fat and they will protect you
Music nerd — loves traditional Japanese instruments, especially the difficult ones
Specializes in girl metal in modern day
eventually proves herself and plays some sick chords for the takeda/uesegi forces
she has entertained them for now
puts sake away like a monster
when she meets sasuke, she finds comfort in the fact he’s also lost with her, so she clings
asks him how to protect herself from shingen bc he’s horny lolol
genuinely thinks sasuke is hilarious
also does NOT realize she’s in love with him until the gravest of grave happens
her name was UNINTENTIONAL
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Aibana Hinata
Age: Presents in his early-mid twenties
Hair: Black Midnight
Eyes: Haunting gold and vermillion
Height: 5'3
Any other qualities: 
The concubine of Nobunaga
Please know I made him a long while before the other guy was dropped so I’m just gonna offer this little gay boy
Nobunaga bought him from a brothel after being so intrigued by him. Hina entertained him so well that he was set for life
A RIGHT SNARKY BASTARD
HE KNOWS HE’S PRETTY AND CAN GET AWAY WITH MURDER
Likes to challenge Nobunaga in battles of wits
board games
debate as pillow talk
swordplay if the lords will entertain him enough
Bisexual as hell
Gender? Don’t know her
He uses all pronouns
True pronoun: princess
ONLY EXISTS IN A UNIVERSE WHERE THERE IS MAI
Nobunaga/Mai/Hinata........
Unless.......
Smart, and educated
former geisha
he can read! and write!
LOVE FUCKING WITH HIDEYOSHI
if there is mai, he would bond with her like no one else
he would be her best friend
her confidant
genuinely adores her
even if she is pursuing nobunaga, he doesn’t resent her ... he just wishes that she would find room in her heart for him too
puts up a tough exterior
a softie.....
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theobscures · 3 years
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Summary of: Filgaia
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Okay so since Wild ARMs is such an obscure RPG series and that a lot of it isn’t that well documented, I figured I would compile this post for my moots wanting to interact with my Jack muse or for those curious! Be warned that this will get wordy--WA gets pretty comprehensive with its lore--and also spoiler heavy for the first game.
Though Filgaia is a recurring world in each WA game, the cast, story, lore, and geography differ in each installment. (A bit like how Final Fantasy games share the same motifs but have completely different settings.) Since my muse is Jack Van Burace and since I’m most passionate about the first game, this post will only detail the first incarnation of Filgaia (particularly the PS1 original’s).
Geography and the Guardians:
Filgaia is an Earth-like planet that, in its current state, has been on a painfully slow decay for a thousand years now. Though the its ecosystems are still fairly diverse--with grasslands, forests, oceans, and even snowy mountains--most of it has increasingly turned into wasteland and threatens the areas still yet untouched. The planet’s continents form a sort of ‘ring’ that shapes two oceans; the Inner Sea and the Outer Sea.
The state of decay is caused in part by the Guardians’ diminishing powers--they are the 20 spiritual beings and beasts whose magic power protects and maintains the lifeforce of Filgaia. The Guardians and Filgaia are all connected by a spiritual channel called the “Ray Line” that lies beneath the planet’s crust and carries and supplies the shared lifeforce. They can lend their powers through protective tablets called Runes.
The Guardians’ diminishing powers are believed to be a direct result of the devastating war that occurred 1,000 years ago, which damaged most of the planet’s life and geography (there is a massive desert called the Sand Ocean created by the destruction). In reality the true cause of the Guardians’ loss of power was the inhabitants losing hope, courage, and love in their hearts (though that too was also caused by the war). The loss of these virtues have made the Guardians grow weak and themselves despairing.
Inhabitants:
Humans are the most populous on Filgaia. 1,000 years ago however, they used to share the planet with the Elw (”the ancients”) who were closely connected with nature but also very technologically advanced. The humans and Elws didn’t just share Filgaia, but also the human space colony Malduke that orbited around the planet. But as the colony was also equipped with the capability for mass destruction, the Guardians crucially sunk the connecting tower, Ka Dingel, to the bottom of the sea.
After the war, the Elws chose to abandon their homeworld for a new one in the Elw Dimension they created. One of the last things that the Elws did for Filgaia before leaving it was to create the “Elw Pyramids” to help amplify its lifeforce when the Guardians’ strength grew weak--essentially putting the planet on life support. But they also function as transports by teleporting people across Filgaia as energy with the use of satellites orbiting the atmosphere. Despite the Elw’s efforts, the pyramids seem to at most slow Filgaia’s decay.
The one other thing the Guardians are closely linked to are the women of the Adlehyde royal family. Though it’s not said why, the Adlehyde women are gifted with magic power and are the only ones who can hear and speak with the Guardians. The royal family’s heirloom is the “Tear Drop”, a blue gemstone that reflects the powers of the Guardians and also contains the essence of the shared lifeforce. In the right hands it can “give birth” to life.
With Filgaia’s never-ending hardships and the loss of valued virtues, there are a handful of people who have chosen to reject their former lives to become “Dream Chasers” (or drifters or migrant birds depending on translation); those who live for the thrill of adventure without a care in the world, though each person’s reasons are unique. Some are looking for treasure, some for fame or power, and some for simple belonging.
History:
Filgaia is defined by the very history of the great war. 1,000 years ago, the planet was invaded by the extraterrestrial Metal Demons--so called because they are of “living metal”. The Demons’ home world, Hiades, was destroyed by their parasitic Queen Mother and forced them to flee and conquer another world. Perhaps unaware of her true nature though, Mother’s sole desire and existence is to destroy everything in reality--which includes the Filgaia that the Demons hope to colonize.
The Metal Demons’ power was truly unparalleled and a grave threat to the inhabitants of Filgaia. To combat them, the Elws banded with the Guardians and humans to develop a series of powerful technological weapons. Many of these were far too powerful though and, after the war, the Elw sealed them away in tightly-secured ruins never to be unearthed. But treasure hunters and scientists eventually found them. These weapons were,
ARMs: Short for Ancient Relic Machine. These (I believe) can actually refer to any weapon the Elw developed for the war, but in this context they refer to very powerful firearms synchronized with psychic waves. In present day, they are highly feared and forbidden weapons--those in possession of one are often exiled from their homes, becoming drifters. They (along with other ancient technology) have been researched by the scientist Zepet and his six apprentices, now known as the ARMs Meisters. Despite the ARMs being taboo, there is a small growing interest and ‘economy’ in them as shops supplying bullets opened. 
The Golems: There were eight golems created for combat and defense. They are mecha-like, able to be controlled by issuing commands, and each represent an element. The golems have now long since turned inactive and lifeless.
The Guardian Blade: Little is known about it, but it was a sword infused with pure life energy and was devastatingly powerful--it is actually rumored to be the main cause of Filgaia’s decay. It tore across the planet, forming the massive Sand Ocean desert, before ultimately destroying itself. The Elw consider its creation to be their greatest sin and the forger of the blade, the Elw Vassim, is labeled a criminal by his kind. In present day, most still believe it is hidden somewhere in the desert and have died trying to find it.
The Holmcross Project: (Or Humonculus.) They were the successor to the Golems and the Elw’s final weapons. The Elw and human mages created them by replicating the “biometals” of the Demons they had captured, essentially creating an artificial man who is both organic and metal. Their enhancements enabled them to better synchronize with the ARMs and made them the best choice against the Metal Demons. However because they were blank slates and lacked empathy and understanding in their hearts, the Holmcross went on violent rampages and killed anyone they came across. The Elw were forced to destroy them all save for one, a prototype they sealed away. (Spoiler: He later became Rudy.)
By far the greatest threat to Filgaia, aside from all of the Elw’s advancements, was Queen Mother. Whether the weapons helped at all or not, the Guardians were able to defeat Mother by splitting her heart into three pieces. Each piece became guarded by a Guardian Statue whereas Mother’s body was sealed away in a cocoon (called the “Arch” in Alter Code F). Queen Mother is not actually dead though; she’s technically immortal and would be revived if reunited with her heart pieces and given life by the Tear Drop. The cocoon was housed deep in Arctica Castle in the north.
Mother’s defeat thwarted the Metal Demons’ goal and they disappeared from memory, having seemingly abandoned Filgaia, and became part of the war’s myth. But Filgaia has never able to move on from its devastating past as the planet continues to decay and the inhabitants must live with the consequences. It’s easy to lay blame on the Elw, but the drive to develop the weapons was likely a mix of fearful desperation, a lust for intellectual or physical power, or even at the pressuring of the humans.
Towns:
Village of Surf: A small farming community that has fell on hard times due to the encroaching decay. Rudy used to live and tend to the horses here.
Curan Abbey: A boarding school south of Adlehyde that teaches the magic arts. It is customary for women of the Adlehyde royal family to study here until their 17th birthday.
Adlehyde Castle Town: The fortified ‘capital’ in front of Adlehyde Castle. In the ancient Elw language, Adlehyde means “light”. The town praises itself for its scientific community and accomplishments and holds a festival dedicated to their findings.
Milama Village: Also called the “oasis of Filgaia”, Milama is built around a moat of clear water and is one of the very few places still untouched by the decay. A popular destination.
Baskar Village: Another tiny farming community populated by people who bond with nature. It sits close to the Altar of the Wind Caller where the Guardian Zephyr, the “west wind of hope”, may be summoned. It’s also close to a Guardian Statue and an Elw Pyramid. Baskar supplies the “Kizim Fire”, which is used to light the pyramids’ furnaces and reactivate them.
Saint Centour: A city settlement named after its Guardian Statue: Ione Paua the centaur Saint Guardian. The city is heavily fortified with tight security and an invisible ‘dimensional’ barrier that surrounds it. This barrier repels monsters, demons, and spirits, but fails if either are smuggled inside with a person. It’s also near an Elw Pyramid.
Port Timney: A seaside port town along the Inner Sea that is mostly populated by trade merchants and sailors. There is a local tradition here that people propose marriage with a crystal flower. It sits near an Elw Pyramid.
Town of Yard: A harbor that sits close to the Sand Ocean desert. It used to be bustling with trade but has turned desolate as a result of the tumultuous sea warding off ships. There is a famous beach here where almost anything lost at sea is said to wash ashore there; it earned the town the nickname “Ship Graveyard” and is what most call it today.
Rosetta Town: A prosperous town that has managed to avoid the decay, but it is now also facing threat with the lack of trade ships coming in. It is most notably the home of the sole Elw who chose to remain in Filgaia, Mariel. But the townsfolk are suspicious of her. The town sits close to the secret Elw Dimension gateway.
Court Seim: An orphanage town founded by the Maxwells: Nicholi the ARMs Meister and his daughter Jane. They originally lived in Milama but, unable to afford it there, were forced to move away to a small, desolate island to keep supporting the orphans. There is an evacuation sanctuary nearby in case of emergencies.
Elw Village: Not actually part of Filgaia anymore but in the Elw Dimension. When the Elws chose to leave Filgaia they picked a large plot of land and isolated it within a dimension they created for themselves, which became a floating island. Outsiders are forbidden. The dimension resembles Filgaia before the war and its decay.
Pandemonium: Though most of the Metal Demons were defeated in the war, a small handful of them survived and secretly built a couple strongholds for themselves, including the Photosphere and Demon Lab--this one being their castle fortress.
Arctica: A proud kingdom that used to exist in the northern tundra continent. It used to be guarded by the seven Fenril Knights, who not only protected the royalty and the people, but also Mother’s cocoon hidden deep within the castle. A few years prior, the kingdom fell when the Metal Demons attacked. There were no survivors. (Spoiler: Except Jack and Elmina.)
Ancient Arena (Devil’s Playground in Alter Code F): A castle that holds gladiator-style battle tournaments. The battles are overseen by the self-proclaimed “Duke” Pegucci who, frankly, enjoys watching contestants battle-to-the-death a little too much. It is rumored that the arena used to be the castle of the King of Illusions in ancient times.
Malduke: A space colony in Filgaia’s orbit where the humans originally lived before they came to live on Filgaia with the Elw. It’s also called the “New Moon”. The colony and Filgaia were connected by a tower called Ka Dingel that could teleport travelers to and from. The colony has now long since been abandoned ever since the Guardians sunk the Ka Dingel to the sea to prevent Malduke from using misused for destruction.
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mallymun · 4 years
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Headcanons :: Maleficent & The Spinning Wheel
Before I say my thoughts, Imma just lay out a few things that happened or were said in the original 1959 animated film as well as known notable lore of fairies
in a faraway land, long ago, lived a King and Queen. many years had they longed for a child and finally, their wish was granted a daughter was born, and they called her aurora yes they named her after the Dawn for she filled their lives with sunshine
- Beginning of Sleeping Beauty Storybook
---
I too shall bestow a gift on the child listen well all of you the princess shall indeed grow in grace and beauty, beloved by all who know her but before the sun sets on her 16th birthday she shall prick her finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel and die
- Maleficent’s Gift on Aurora’s Nameday/Christianing
---
sweet princess if through this wicked witch’s trick a spindle should your finger prick a ray of hope there still may be in this, the gift I give to thee not in death but just in sleep, the fateful prophecy you’ll keep and from this slumber, you shall wake when true love’s kiss the spell shall break
- Merryweather’s Gift on Aurora’s Nameday/Christianing
---
while aurora cried in utter despair, the light in her room’s fireplace went out maleficent appeared there, her staff glowed green and then she disappeared but the green orb remained an orb very similar to how pixies tend to appear, pixies and wisps aurora was compelled to follow the orb which revealed a secret passageway orb and princess went through the passageway
at the same time, there was something audible that the 3 Good Fairies could hear that let them know mal was there the orb led aurora all the way up a tower, occasionally glowing brighter eventually, the orb stopped in a room and changed shape into a spinning wheel and spindle which aurora touched the wheel glowed with the same green “touch the spindle, touch it I say,” mal says while not APPEARING to be in the room
the 3 good fairies were very close behind, arriving at the scene milliseconds after the Event happened “you poor simple fools, thinking you could defeat me, me the mistress of all evil, well here’s your precious princess”
- Transcript of What Happened When Aurora Pricked Her Finger
--- Thoughts/Theory Time With Essie ---
So basically
Maleficent is the spinning wheel and spindle. (Yes, I know that is QUITE the strange thought to start off on)
She also never had any intention of killing Aurora, because a princess has no reason to spin her own thread and therefore touch a spindle on a spinning wheel. What she WOULD have done was embroidery. Maybe even a bit of weaving. The most princesses tended to do with fabrics was making them pretty. That’s not to say that’s all princesses in the 14th century, but a good number of the european ones.
And so I say, Maleficent never cursed Aurora. She would have well-known who was responsible for what in a kingdom.
I say, her gift to the princess, because you’ll notice she never said it was a curse, was a premonition. And do note, a true Fae cannot lie. If someone is born a fae, they cannot lie. (I’ve seen some versions saying that the advantage of a human-turned-fae is that they can lie)
She saw that this child that had been long awaited in the human kingdom she happened to be living beside, would die on her birthday years from now. And she decided to warn her parents and the rest of the kingdom.
Maleficent had been noted to have powers that far outweigh those of the Three Good Fairies (TGF henceforth), but she still wouldn’t be able to simply stop a teenager from doing something they’re told not to do.
Have YOU tried to tell a teen not to do something? They always do it
So rather that try herself to protect this innocent-of-her-parents’-crimes child, and have everyone try to stop her, because she was noted to be on a different side than the the TGF.
Rather than simplye tell the gathered populace of her vision of the future and have them call her a Cassandra [x] and lying, she takes advantage of the fact that everyone sees her a certain way.
Maleficent takes advantage of TGF’s hatred of her.
Of King Stefan’s refusal to invite her to the party of the century.
She plays her part of a gracious yet snubbed faery.
And indirectly claims her vision as one of her own making. Because at least, if she’s claiming to be the one to cause the innocent child to die, then she knows the TGF will do all they can to stand in her way.
Her “curse” takes effect. And her brilliant timing allows for one of the TGF to try and lessen the damage of it. Merryweather’s exact words were that “if through [maleficent’s] trick, a spindle should your finger prick.”
Because of that, as Maleficent looks to the future, to try and prevent this child’s death, she realizes she HAS to try and kill her. Despite how the Fae normally operate with children.
Namely, that they will steal away human children.
A habit that she’ll have to ignore for the sake of the child’s life
So as long as the sun hasn’t set on Aurora’s 16th birthday, Maleficent plays her part as the villain of the story. She instructs her minions to search “for the baby Princess Aurora.”
That’s important.
Because surely even with her long and immortal life, Maleficent would have realized that when humans reach age 16, they aren’t babies anymore. And yet, it took her 16 years to correct the goblins hailing her queen?
But then Diablo finds Aurora and she can no longer play the fool, she must actively try to trick the princess now. She sets a trap for the princess in the cottage, but then she catches a prince.
Then she has another vision, one of Prince Phillip only leaving her dungeon after 100 years, with Aurora fast asleep and cursed. Sometime during the 16 years, she learned of Merryweather’s words that day, and she prepared for it.
She times everything just right.
The sun hasn’t set yet, so she uses some faerie compulsion to have Aurora follow her. The same way people follow wisps in swamps even though they shouldn’t.
She puts on a show, makes her presence known, pulls Aurora away and then shapeshifts herself into a spinning wheel. There was no time to get one when everything’s been done via drop spindles for the past 16 years.
The princess sleeps.
Maleficent’s part is (mostly) done.
For the first time in 16 years she can sleep, knowing everything will turn out fine.
And very well knowing that TGF will come to save Phillip, not that she told her goblins to prepare for his rescue or anything.
And of course, the best part of a convoluted plan like this, is that if you told anyone, you now have a second person that could affect your plans because they happened to, in the moment, make a choice that ruins your plans. So she never told Diablo that way her fine feathered friend would still call the goblins to attention.
She waited in her room for all the noise of Phillip’s escape to die down. Then, suddenly, right after Diablo squawked outside her tower, he went dead silent.
THAT is when we finally see a truly angry Maleficent.
Her companion was turned to stone because she never accounted for just how deep Merryweather’s hatred for her went. Still, she didn’t endanger the innocent child.
She simply fought TGF’s champion until her anger abated enough.
Aurora had been safe from Maleficent for her entire life.
To close this off, I wanna bring up (one of) the (possible) meaning(s) of the Wheel of Fortune in Tarot reading:
UPRIGHT: Good luck, karma, life cycles, destiny, a turning point
REVERSED: Bad luck, resistance to change, breaking cycles
Good luck to some, bad luck to others, Maleficent is the Spinning Wheel.
EDIT:
As for why would she try so hard to prevent this kid’s death? A child like Aurora, long awaited and finally arrived, was normally a gift from magic. From the fae. As such, you don’t thank the fae that gave you such a child. You simply acknowledge the child and promise to do right by them.
Those children are normally called changelings, and are fae by nature, magical. Some fae would have created the baby somehow, and left them in the crib. Possibly taking away whatever sickly human babe might lay there.
So
Who gave them the baby?
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cinemamablog · 4 years
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Lana Del Rey Goes to the Movies
I use roughly 1/16th of my iPhone’s storage space to hold my collection of Lana Del Rey’s music, including her (misspelled) self-titled album Lana Del Ray AKA Lizzy Grant and over a hundred of her leaked, unreleased tracks. (If you have an MP3 of “Yosemite” or “Life is Beautiful”... Hit me up, please.) My husband teases me because I have a LanaBoards account so I can read - and occasionally participate in - the pre-release gossip months, sometimes years, before the next Lana album drops.
Just like I make no secret of my Lana Del Rey obsession, Ms. Lizzy Grant pulls no punches when it comes to her idolatry of the silver screen and Hollywood lore. With songs aptly titled “Hollywood,” “Hollywood’s Dead,” and “Super Movie,” she wears her movie loving heart on her sleeve. Lana makes references to movies, iconic (usually dead) actors, and David Lynch throughout her discography. She has also contributed to countless recent movies, providing sultry vocals while matching the vibe of the films, like on the soundtracks for The Great Gatsby, Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark, and Big Eyes. In fact, Mary Ramos, Quentin Tarantino’s music supervisor, revealed last summer that Lana submitted music for Tarantino’s latest film, Once Upon a Time… in Hollywood. She also reportedly recorded a song for the James Bond franchise at one point. A casual fan of motion pictures, Lana is not. To which I say: girl, same.
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Lana frequently references to Marilyn Monroe in her music, always in a very blatant (some might say distasteful) manner. “If I call you on the telephone, I might overdose, ‘cause I’m strong but I’m lonely, like Marilyn Monroe,” she mews in an otherwise sweet love song named after the actress. She also references suicide and Monroe in her single “Body Electric”: “Elvis is my daddy, Marilyn’s my mother,” she sings in the first verse. By the second verse, she sings “Diamonds are my bestest friend [Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, anyone?]. Heaven is my baby, suicide’s her father, opulence is the end.” On a less morbid note, she also pays homage to Monroe in the intro of her National Anthem music video. In the black and white clip, Lana sings “Happy Birthday, Mr. President” a la Marilyn Monroe, except instead of JFK on the receiving end, she serenades rapper A$AP Rocky. 
The reason for Lana’s attraction to Marilyn’s mythos seems obvious to me. They both created their persona by studying the stars that came before them: Marilyn by emulating Jean Harlow, Lana by paying her respects to Marilyn, Sharon Tate, and other young movie stars known for the tragedies that marked their lives. The cycle continues into the 21st century.
Lana has a few other movies and film people that reappear throughout her song catalogue: David Lynch, Scarface, and Easy Rider. I find this appropriate, as all three present the viewer with stylized visions of how the American Dream can go wrong. Lynch explores the nightmarish underbelly of the suburban lifestyle, Scarface follows Al Pacino’s immigrant character up a violent ladder of success, and Easy Rider glorifies living on one’s own terms, a freedom for which the main characters pay dearly.
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Lana covered the titular song of David Lynch’s film Blue Velvet on her first studio EP, Paradise. At first, I thought that maybe she just likes the song, but then, on her second studio album, Ultraviolence, she gave an undeniable nod to Lynch that marked her for a fan. In the song “Sad Girl,” she sings: “He’s got the fire and he walks with it,” a blatant reference to the phrase “fire walk with me” from Lynch’s project Twin Peaks. Both Blue Velvet and Twin Peaks focus on the sexual, drug-fueled violence lurking just under the surface of an otherwise idyllic community, much like Lana’s storytelling through song.
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“Scarface, sacrifice, sold my soul to make it nice. It was worth it, paid the price, life is death when blow is life,” Lana sings on an unreleased track called, you guessed it, “Scarface.” The lyrics of the song follow the same themes as the movie, describing a life characterized by mob violence and stoned patriotism. Lana also references the De Palma remake in another unreleased song, “Never Let Me Go”: “Like they say in Scarface, kid, you can push your drugs and I can make it big.” I’m pretty sure they don’t say that in Scarface, but still, the sentiment remains the same: the road to the American Dream (and doom) can be paved with drugs, money, and luck.
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“Is the sun in your eyes, easy rider?” Lana asks in the unreleased “Angels Forever, Forever Angels.” She sings in the bridge, “Paradise is a hell-colored flame sky. Is it nice to feel free and wild?” throwing out a subtle, decades-old reference to the theme song of Dennis Hopper’s 1969 counterculture hit Easy Rider, “Born to be Wild.” On her third studio album, Honeymoon, Lana recycles the reference on the track “Freak”: “Sun reflecting in your eyes, like an easy rider.” Like Blue Velvet and Scarface, Easy Rider shows the American Dream onscreen as a drug-induced fantasy that can’t end well, but the ride is worth it.
Occasionally, Lana sings about the real dark side of Hollywood, where the bad decisions and late nights aren’t a fun game or even a choice anymore, but rather the price of artistic success, demanded of her by men with sinister intentions. In Lana Del Ray AKA Lizzy Grant’s “Put Me in a Movie,” Lana teases a powerful man in the movie industry: “Come on, I know you like little girls... Put me in a movie.” Some of Lana’s other lyrics came under fire in the media shortly after the accusations against Harvey Weinstein publicly surfaced. Lana sings the lyrics in question during the bridge for the already-controversial song “Cola”: “Harvey’s in the sky with diamonds and he’s making me crazy.” She’s since claimed in interviews that she won’t sing “Cola” anymore due to the backlash, but I think the song has made its point: Lana’s always known that men like Harvey have the money and power (“diamonds”) to drive desperate people crazy.
In her penultimate album, Lust for Life, Lana doesn’t let up on the Hollywood imagery. In the album’s teaser trailer, Lana lives inside of the Hollywood sign, stirring a witchy potion and pondering the fate of the world from above the LA lights. She climbs that same Hollywood sign with the Weeknd in the music video for the titular song, “Lust for Life.” While the album begins on this upbeat note, by the third song, “13 Beaches,” we return to a familiar sense of isolation and sadness. An audio clip from the cult classic movie Carnival of Souls plays over string instrumentation: “I don’t belong in the world. That’s what it is. Something separates me from other people. Everywhere I turn, there’s something blocking my escape.” (This monologue is only available in the deleted scenes of the recent Criterion Blu-ray release and in unrestored YouTube videos. Lana knows her independent horror movies.) This cinematic depression haunts the rest of the album, with lyrics like “Cherry”’s “My celluloid scenes are torn at the seams, and I fall to pieces” and the disturbing Charles Manson references in my all-time favorite LDR song, “Heroin”: “Manson’s in the air and all my friends have come ‘cause they still feel him here… Something ‘bout the sun has made these kids get scary. Oh, writing in blood on the walls and shit…” Even when Lana tries to shift her audience’s focus to her lust for life, she can’t help but revert to her old melancholic ways. But as she sings in the final bridge of “Heroin”: “I hope that I come back one day to tell you that I really changed.”
“You move to California, but it’s just a state of mind,” Lana sings on her latest album, Norman Fucking Rockwell, and the rest of the album echoes that sentiment. Her disenchantment with the City of Angels has been a running thread through her discography and yet she returns to it over and over, in songs like “Bartender” and “California.” On Honeymoon, she sang “I will never sing again. With just one wave, it goes away.” On Lust for Life, she sang “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t sick of it.” Now on NFR, she sings “I guess that I’m burnt out after all.” But after three albums of threatening to leave it all behind, I don’t think Lana Del Rey will ever really be done with Hollywood. In the words of the last song on NFR: Hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like Lana to have… but she has it. 
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The Caverns Beneath The Earth By Lauren Hern (aka lozziepops.)
It was a day like any other day. With the sun streaming in from the open window, I would open my eyes to a world of nothing but pills which brought about a sense of normality to my normally messed up world. Leaning on the counter just across from my bed, was a woman who was not overly skinny nor overly plump, with bright, vibrant, shockingly, gloriously faded blue hair which was turning blonde at the ends. Heavy, slept in eyeliner framed a deathly pale face which was neither pretty nor ugly. More of a happily bland complexion, if that was really such a thing(?) A tongue flicked out with each laying out and turning of the cards in her hands, each face being placed down in the shape of the Celtic cross, lip rings furiously clicking against teeth. My sister made it a regular habit of hers to do her own readings this early in the morning until her clients started showing up, each wanting the cards to govern their own lives.
Outside, the city was slowly coming to life, with the usual traffic slowly trudging through the streets of Cardiff as shop owners began to slowly set up for the day. We lived on the main shopping street which was neither quiet nor loud. Instead, it was a happy form of chaos to our mostly boring lives. This was days after the quarantine had slowly been lifted after the pandemic of Covid-19 and the world itself was trying to move on from the damage the virus had caused. That hadn't stopped the clients coming in in droves however. In fact, we didn’t care long as the clients were willing to adhere to social distancing and wear protection in the forms of both disposable gloves, and face masks. 
My sister and I had been doing this for a long time, and were well versed in Tarot thanks to our mother who had used the cards to channel her own spiritual powers. What kept people coming back however, was that the cards were always right (and it made more money than mediumship ever did for us.) 
“Three of swords...” A rasp of a voice spoke, bringing me out of my own reverie, “...positive start to the day I suppose...”
“You know mother told us not to use the cards for our own personal gain, Mina,” I scolded lightly. This kind of talk was too much for me this time in the morning. In fact, all I really wanted right now was a cigarette, “turn that one card and its all over. You know this.” 
My sister looked up at me, away from the cards. The impatient clicking of her lip rings had stopped, replaced by the sound of a small sigh from her too thin lips.
“You know you’re a bright fucking ray of sunshine every morning, Lorelai,” Mina replied, her voice showing signs of chain smoking for most of her life. Only 41 years of age and still dressing like the young goth she was at heart with her long dark acrylic nails which were starting to grow out, “I do not use the cards for my personal gain. I practice my craft unlike you and you’re mediumship, little brother. When did you last take on a client or explore a place with spiritual energy?” 
“Whatever. I’m going to take a leak and then get a mug of Joe...” It was a term which I hadn't been able to shake since our visit to the states several years ago. A year before our mother disappeared from our lives, stating before she left ‘that we had a purpose and she would do nothing but hold us back from it.’ That was what she said before she had disappeared, completely vanishing without a trace. 
Finishing my business, I washed my hands in the porcelain sink before looking up into the mirror. A young man of 32 looked back at me with tired, almost bloodshot eyes and very light freckles hidden beneath a layer of crusted over old makeup. Reaching for the cleanser, I quickly removed the traces of white foundation and black eyeliner, watching as the makeup slid from my skin into the basin below, revealing more of the freckles beneath. Something which I had got from my father, along with the naturally blonde hair which had been freshly dyed black. In every way from the pronounced bump on my nose down to the shape of my jaw, I looked like my old man except for my eyes - I had my mothers deep muddy brown eyes. Washing off the rest of the cleanser, I turned off the water and headed into the kitchen, only to find a steaming cup of Joe waiting for me, along with Mina who was microwaving a ready made meal. 
“I’m going to the castle soon as it opens you know?” I spoke nonchalantly after thanking her for the coffee, “...something about the caverns beneath that place keeps drawing me in.” The microwave pinged soon as I finished speaking but Mina didn’t open the door. Instead, I could hear her nails deliberately clicking against the work top, the charms hanging from them clinking together. 
“...what makes you think you will even find her in those god awful caverns?” Her voice was rigid, her teeth gnashing together, “we haven’t been able to find her all these years so why do you think this would be different, Lore?” 
A part of me couldn’t help but think this was the truth. Truth was, we had moved to this particular part of Cardiff after she had disappeared based solely on the feeling I got from the castle itself. It loomed over the city itself and yet refused to reveal its secrets which if my senses were correct, were more than forbidden trysts of lovers in the centuries that it had remained standing. 
“That place is concealing something,” I replied simply, not wanting to further share my thoughts for the time being, “I will find out what it is, even if it kills me. And before you say, not even the fucking cards will stop me, Mina.” I pursed my lips and sighed with irritation, downing the strong mug of caffeine goodness in one go. 
After some time of silence between us, in which the small kitchen felt even smaller than it was, she let out an almost despairing sigh. Though she was only ten years older than I was, my older sister knew when it was best to drop the conversation - especially when I was being my usual stubborn self. After a while when she had carefully placed her ready meal onto a plate, chicken curry with fried rice, she sat back down at the counter with a fork in hand, idly playing with the food on the plate. Mina’s diet was awful in the eyes of most but food was where she showed her true stubborn side. No matter how many times, I offered to cook for her, she refused, stating that the energies would just affect her readings. She just doesn't like home cooked food, which was the truth and the thought which came to my mind every time I saw her with a new ready meal from our local Sainsbury’s. Or she’s just being her usual weird self. That was also a possibility.
“What’s to stop you from entering those caverns now, Lore?” She asked between mouthfuls of food, “I mean no ones there so why not just sneak in?” 
“...that wouldn't be what she would have wanted,” a snap, the plate itself almost broke in two with the force of her fork hitting the delicate ceramic.
“Do you hear yourself Lorelai Matthews?” My full name. I knew I was in trouble when she used my full name, “I swear if you weren't my brother, I would have poisoned your mug with cyanide, you stupid idiot! This is our mother you are talking about here...” Mina was trying not to spit her food all over the place as her voice began to rise, “we at least need to know why she wanted to disappear in the first place. Stop being so fucking blasé about it.” 
“Mina, she disappeared for a reason and you know this. I’m sure destiny or whatever it is can wait for us to catch up with it. Besides the place is heavily guarded at the moment to stop the tourists getting in still,” despite the lift in lockdown, the castle itself had remained closed which was odd in itself, “what do you think they would say to me if I turned up saying I can sense spiritual energy coming from the caverns and I need to enter immediately? They’d ship me off with the men in white coats, like they threatened to last time.” Last time, when I had stupidly opened my mouth about the Ellis Estate being haunted. That was how I had ended up on the pills in the first place for the psychiatrist they had assigned to me wanted to keep me on medication and though they made everything seem normal, they weakened my powers. Spirits weren't able to communicate with me as clearly when I had taken a dose of prozac that day.
“Life isn't like that stupid show on television. You know the one. That one hosted by that lady who used to present Blue Peter,” Mina had told me after that incident, “so don't go shouting about what you saw, little brother.”
The silence had grown under the pretence of our little outburst (a fun fact but our neighbours used to complain about us arguing. That is especially if we were arguing for most of the night and whenever Mina had taken to a bottle of vodka for divine retribution but now they had given up complaining. As if they were used to it or had just given up complaining to our extremely lazy landlord,) and the clicking of cutlery was distinct in the silence along with the sound of the throngs of people beginning to slowly pick up on this glorious Saturday morning in Cardiff. When she had finished her food, Mina idly picked at a loose thread which was hanging from her long nightie, smearing some of the eyeliner on her eyes as she pressed her hand to her forehead, one of her telltale signs of a headache coming on. 
“Look, I’m not going to argue with you but opportunity might not drop on our doorstep you know? The cards aren't always one hundred percent accurate,” she stated, confirming my suspicions of her using the cards for her own personal use but before I could question her on this, she continued to speak, “I was with a client yesterday afternoon when you had gone out to the shop to get your usual Lambert’s and he had confirmed one of my suspicions about that place by saying that on a dare, his fiancé had gone into the caverns at night with a group of his friends. What they found when exploring in the darkness with their torches was that the caverns connecting to the main cavern more than looked the same. They were the same. Not only that but at one point, he could hear the sounds of what he could only describe as a typewriter, the keys themselves being hit in rapid succession.” 
“He could have just been making that up you know?” I countered her, the story itself seeming a little farfetched to me. Then I thought of the Ellis Estate and immediately pushed the memories of that incident to the backs of my mind.
“That was what I thought so I asked the cards during his reading. He was speaking the truth, Lore. Apparently his fiancé had been in a state of panic, babbling about how it was the gateway to hell and all sorts of nonsense. Just like the caverns in Paris,” Paris. Another place I wanted to explore to confirm whether the ghost stories had a sliver of truth to them or were the result of overactive imaginations. After all, there was no gateway to hell. That just simply wasn't possible, “I know that look. Stop being so cynical. You’re a natural born medium for Christ’s sake!” 
“Fine. Fine. I’ll take a look next Saturday once we got through our appointments. In the mean time, I’ll consult my notes and spirit guides on the place itself but I want you to ask the cards something for me, big sister...” I replied back, running my hands through my short black hair, “ask them why it was that Lady Ellis had killed herself in the first place.” I bit my tongue as memories of blood covered walls and words came to my mind along with a horrendous, oppressive atmosphere which had driven every single owner of the property to selling it off as soon as possible, “and what connection her death, and our mother’s disappearance has to those caverns.”
-
The time soon came. I was prepared to meet somewhat with the tormented souls of the dead who lingered on the streets as well as under the earth. Reaching the tiny gate after slipping through the old iron gate which bared the general public from access (though it didn’t really stop people who wanted to sneak in. Such as myself,) I unlatched it before turning my torch on and entering. If there was any security to be found, no cameras could be seen in this cavern, nor in the entrance. Following the steps downwards, I immediately felt the chill along with a sense of dread which I managed to quell. Occasionally a vision of figures descending the steps with me would catch my eye but unless the spirits themselves wanted to show me something, I generally ignored such visions of static energy taking form. Continuing my descent further into the darkness, I eventually felt my feet hit the ground. 
The cavern itself looked small but it turned off into so many different little paths. The spiritual energy I was feeling here however, was off the charts and was getting stronger, the more I continued to walk. Until I felt a small hand grab my own.
“Where are you going, Lore?” An odd voice spoke in the darkness. Where there should have been a reverb off the cavern walls, there was nothing save for a normal sounding voice, “down there is nowhere. Nowhere and death. Like Ellis.” Turning, I felt a familiar pressure in the middle of my forehead. One of my spirit guides, a young boy of about nine who had died during the First World War, who called himself Zac, was standing before me, holding onto my hand.
“I have to go...” I said stupidly, knowing full well that my guides would try to stop me from landing myself into trouble again. Just like Ellis, “my mother...”
“...you will die if you go down there. Go back to Mina. Down there is nowhere and death...” The boy spoke, pleading with me not to go. I stopped for a moment, rubbing my forehead a little, my third eye quite firmly open. 
“What is down there?” I asked then and sudden chill went up my back at the thought. What was really in the centre of the earth itself? The boy didn’t reply however, instead when he opened his mouth, he began to make the clacking sound of what sounded like a typewriter’s keys being hit in rapid succession. Turning around, a vision assaulted my senses. A woman in a long dark coat was heading into the cavern. Shaking free of Zac’s grip, I followed after her, calling out to the woman as she disappeared further into the darkness. The light of my torch began to flicker the further I went in and the feeling of strong spiritual energy, along with something else was now assaulting my senses. A pure sense of dread. Just like Ellis. 
“Nothing is down there,” I heard once again behind me, “nothing and nowhere, and death.” I called out to the woman once again, knowing that there was no way she would be able to hear Zac with his oddly cryptic words. This time however, she stopped and remained stood still. As I continued my reassurances however, I approached her from behind slowly and placed my hand upon her shoulder. She didn’t turn around and it was only now did I notice the colour of her hair. Dark in the dim light of the torch, the cavern itself unlit for centuries (there were bracers on the walls) but it looked blonde which had been - to my horror, caked with mud, blood and other bits of gunk. Slowly, the woman began to laugh silently and as she turned around, I let out a terrified scream before I felt the tugging of Zac’s insistent hand and this time I followed him up, and out of the cavern. Where there should have been a face on the woman, there was none save for a burnt, featureless mass of flesh which was indistinguishable. And the laugh. It sounded like the clacking of keys on a typewriter! 
It was something which I would never forget for as long as I lived. 
The End.
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atomwaveheadcanons · 5 years
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The monster you’re hunting - part 1
Ray doesn’t expect the knock on his door. It’s way too late, everyone’s already at home with Felicity being the last one to leave over an hour ago and, while she was still a bit overprotective of him – feeling guilty maybe – Ray is sure she wouldn’t stop by to check on him again. She’d just use one of the cameras around, hack into the Palmertech system, can hack into his home, shut everything down and force him to rest.
No, the knock on the door couldn’t be her, and as Ray frowns at the door, a chill runs down his spine. Chill he didn’t feel for a long time. He doesn’t have a weapon on him, not one that could help him right now anyway, but then again, the most scary things out there don’t bother to knock. It’s that more than anything else that makes him step forward, his hand curling around the doorknob. No, the worst things didn’t knock. And the terrible ones that did, they had no problem opening the door themselves.
Ray takes a deep breath, wondering if it’s not a mistake to get wood door here instead of glass one. But the wooden door meant protection from some of the creatures at least, comfort that glass door wouldn’t give him. He checks the salted line on the ground, before his hand’s pushing the doorknob down, his breath almost burning in his chest. It doesn’t get much better after the door are opened.
“Missed me?”
Ray’s tempted to slam the door into the man’s face. And while that was satisfactory in the past, it didn’t ever stop whatever bad news followed him. So Ray refrains from that, but doesn’t budge, standing in the door when the man moves to step forward.
“Not nice.” The man’s still grinning and Ray frowns.
“John Constantine.” He says quietly, as if saying his name louder than necessary might bring some kind of curse upon him. As far as Ray knows, it can. He doesn’t feel like trying his luck.
Constantine lifts an eyebrow before shrugging.
“Not like I expected a warm welcome.” He smirks, pulling out a cigarette. “Have light?”
Ray doesn't’ say anything. He keeps quiet, keeps standing in the doorway until the grin slips off Constantine’s face, his shoulders falling a bit.
“Fine.” The cigarette disappears once again, before the guy sighs. “I need your help.”
“No.” Ray shakes his head, making Constantine blink.
“No?” He repeats slowly, as if Ray doesn’t know that is the word he used.
“No.” Ray says, firmer this time. Nothing Constantine will say will change his decision. “I’ve left that life behind.”  Constantine obviously doesn’t agree, because there is the roll of his eyes and the puff of smoke - Ray didn’t even catch him lighting up the cigarette - before the man snorts.
“Doesn’t work like that, love.” He says, his eyes narrowed. “You might’ve left it behind, but this life never does the same for you. It remembers you. They all remember you, Dylan.”
The name makes Ray freeze more than the rest. It’s a memento, a hook dragging him back into a life he doesn’t want - a life that took too much away from him already and he’s not prepared to get back to it. Not yet and he’s not sure if ever. “You know that’s not my name, John.” He warns and John smirks.
“You weren’t born with it, but it was your name for a while.” he says, glancing Ray over. “A name that still carries a lot. A name that a lot of things remember.”
“I don’t care. Look, John I-”
“Shouldn’t you though?” John jumps in, not letting Ray finish. “Maybe you don’t care but they certainly do.  They keep whispering it in the dark, that name. Like a curse.” He says, his voice falling down an octave, staring at Ray with a look that almost burns. “Like a promise made of blood. Hers.”
He doesn’t have to say Anna’s name. Ray knows well enough he means her and he fights off the shiver that’s threatening to run down his spine.
“He’s dead.” He says, his voice firm. “The vampire that killed her is dead.” Left on the sun and as far as Ray knows there’s only one part vampire that can survive that.
“He is.” John nods. “But they are on the move. The bloodsuckers caught the scent and they aren’t letting go.”
Ray’s mind flashes over Felicity, over Oliver, Barry… over Cisco and Caitlyn and he swallows hard, his mouth opening. But John must know him better than Ray thinks, better than Ray remembers, because he shakes his head.
“They aren’t in danger. Not an immediate one anyway, but if we don’t do anything, nothing will help them. Or anyone else for that matter.”
Ray frowns.
“That sounds ominous.”  
“It is.” John nods, the cigarette slipping in between his lips as he glances at Ray. “They found him, Dylan.”
John always liked his theatrics.
“Him?” Ray asks, lifting an eyebrow. Him can mean a lot of things. Ray doesn’t have any desire to think about most of them.
“Him.” John nods, finally taking the dropping cigarette. Ray sees it disappear into thin air, his stomach clenching uncomfortably. John means business after all. “The first one.” He adds and Ray’s eyes widened. No. No, he possibly can’t mean -
“Dracula.”
“Dracula is nothing more than a fairy tale.”
“Oh, is it?” Ray’s not even aware that he let go of the door, not until John actually pushes through. “You know there has to be the first one. The first to make the decision, the first to grasp at the sin and push it forward to the rest.”
“‘Grasp at the sin?’” Ray makes a face at that. “Isn’t that a bit over dramatic?” He asks, mostly to buy himself some time. Because it is overly dramatic, but if it’s true…
There are stories about the Dracula. There are bunch of stories, every nation practically has this or that lore that could be tied to the very first vampire. As much as Ray would like for it not to be the truth, it might be. And if it is…
Oh god…
“Now you’re getting it.” John smirks, looking a bit too proud of himself.
“Yeah, well why did you come to me?” Though if they are really dealing with Dracula, John will not need only him, but everyone else.
“Because I can deal with the ghosts, demons, dragons… but I can’t deal with vampires.” John pointed out, second cigarette magically appearing between his fingers. “Also, you know the other one.”
“No.” Ray shakes his head, because John ought to be joking. “I would be the last person he’d listen to. He doesn’t like me.”
“He doesn’t like anyone. He hates vampires though, thanks to his daddy. And his sister likes you.”
“His sister likes Cisco.”
“Cisco, you, almost the same thing.”
Ray can’t help the glare at that. He likes Cisco, he does, but they are both very different. John rolls his eyes and lifts his hand.
“Okay, fine. I’m sorry. I do need your help though.” The and his goes unsaid but Ray hears it all the same.
“Snart is not going to listen to me.” Ray says even though he knows that he’s going to ask anyway. If Dracula is involved… god maybe he should go out of his way to ask more people for help. “How do we know he’s back?” He trusts John. Ray’s not fond of the news the man brings but he knows John wouldn’t come to him just for anything. He wouldn’t lie to him either.
John bites into the cigarette as his hand disappears inside of his coat before he pulls out what seems to be a scale.
“Found this in his tomb. Didn’t get to see Drake anymore, but those vamps didn’t work quickly enough to hide everything before I got there.”
Ray doesn’t ask how John knew where to look. John always had the… gift. Or curse. Whatever one wants to call it. John just knows and he follows his gut and his gut always drags him to the worst things possible. It reminds Ray of his own past, and he shakes his head, getting rid of the unwelcome images. Instead he forces himself to focus on the scale.
“And this is?”
“Seems to be a part of his armor.”
“...armor.” Ray repeats, taking the scale from John frowning. “Like his defensive armor?”
“That. Or his shapeshifting ability.”
The scale glints innocently in the light of Ray’s work lamp, cold under his touch as Ray’s mind whirls.
“If this is an actual part of him��� we could look at the DNA.” He says slowly, fingers running over the chipped scale. Maybe the DNA could help them - tell them more about vampires, more about Drake. Maybe find what his weaknesses are, because if the stories are true - if he really doesn’t have problem walking around in sunlight, then they lost one of the few advantages they had with Snart. That is, if Snart agrees to fight this… first vampire. Because if this vampire has half of the abilities rumored, they are going to need Snart at his best.
… Ray doesn’t really have a choice in this, does he? And John knows that very well. Ray sighs as he looks at the smirking man.
“Just in case, maybe you should drag Cisco along.”
Ray’s sure Snart will see through that right away - but that doesn’t mean that Cisco’s presence is not gonna help. If nothing else, at least Snart won’t try to kill anyone right in front of the guy - Snart’s sister will make sure of that.
*** 
“What do you want?”
Ray’s not even inside the safe house for five minutes when Snarts stops next to him, his eyes surely narrowed behind those glasses of his and Ray swallows. He has a feeling lying to Snart wouldn’t be a good idea - he might even hear Raymond’s heartbeat. No, Ray is not about to lie to Snart, especially not if the guy can - and most probably will - call him out on that.
“John Constantine visited me last night.” Ray says in the end, glancing to where Cisco’s talking to Lisa, showing her his newest invention. Ray’s tempted to go over and see for himself, but this right now is more important than his curiosity.
Snart makes a face and leans his head partly to the side.
“Not the kind of information I was asking for, Raymond.”
Ray can’t help the roll of his eyes. He knows Snart doesn’t think that Ray is possibly… in a relationship with John, but still. He could just let go of the teasing.
“He told me the vamps found Dracula.”
Snart doesn’t even tense at the name. He just stands there, back pressed against the doorway and his arms crossed over his chest.
“Yes.”
Wait… what?!
“You knew?!”
This time, it’s Snart that rolls his eyes.
“That little thing is a bit hard to hide from a vampire - half of not.” That… Ray should ask about that, probably, and he will, it’s just that his mind is currently preoccupied with a different idea. Before he knows it he’s opening his mouth, half glaring.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Thought you were leaving that kind of life behind, Dylan.” The name makes Ray freeze and Snart snorts, shrugging. “Yeah. I prefer Raymond as well.”
“So you knew about that too?”
Snart rolls his eyes, scoffing.
“I”m a half vampire. Not an idiot, Raymond. Normal people don’t just stumble upon this place. You had to know what to look for and follow it here the very first time you did.”
Oh. So Snart knew all the way back. Huh. Maybe John wasn’t so wrong with his assessment of Snart not hating him after all. Especially if the man let him come several times and let his sister go with him to the cafe where she met Cisco.
“So...what are we going to do about it?” Ray asks, getting his mind back on track. If Snart knew about Dracula already at least Ray doesn’t have to go through the whole explanation. Same goes for Ray’s own past life, so… all’s well that ends well, right?
“Nothing.”
Wait. What?
“Nothing? Dracula is on the loose and you don’t want to do anything about it?” Snart has to be joking. Only he doesn’t seem to be. He’s still leaning against the wall but where his body was relaxed before, it’s tensed now, his eyes narrowing slightly more behind the glasses.
“Exactly. We can’t do anything right now. What we know about Dracula are fairy tales. We have no idea who he is, what he looks like or what he can do. Jumping into a fight like that would end up with someone dead. And there is small chance of that someone being the one we want to.” He growled, his eyes moving to his sister. “And while having to feed off a freaking tube is not what I would call fun, I do not plan to end up dead. Not any time soon at least.”
The thirst. Leonard Snart wasn’t the one who told Ray about it, would be happier if Ray wouldn’t have any idea probably. But he couldn’t be angry at his sister, who was so worried about Leonard and so happy that she had someone human to talk to about all of this, that she told Ray everything. Her worries about ‘Lenny’ getting hurt. Her worries about Lenny getting in over her head. Her worries about Lenny snapping one day and - not hurting her, she wasn’t worried about that - but hurting someone else and Lenny hating himself even more because he got down on the vampire level after the whole years of fighting.
When they parted ways that night, Ray spend next couple of days in his laboratory, coming up with synthetic blood that would cease the thirst, fool the vampire genes into believing that it’s the real blood while still giving Leonard’s human side the chance to remain… human.
Snart didn’t say thank you when Ray brought it over. Not that Ray expected it, but he couldn’t help the smile from showing on his lips when sometimes later Ray’s phone rang with the message asking for more.
Leonard has a point. They shouldn’t jump into it just like that… but now that Ray knows his body is itching with the need to do something - anything at all - to stop a bloodthirsty warlord from walking around the place and killing numbers of people.
“We need to know who we are fighting against, first.” Snart interrupts Ray’s thinking and Ray frowns.
“So what. You want to stand around until he makes the first step and kills someone?”
“Yes.” Snart doesn’t even look like he regrets the words. “Because then he’ll show himself. We’ll know what he’s capable of.” The guy says, pulling away from the doorway.
“And what if his first move is coming here and killing you?” Ray asks before Snart can get too far, making the other man freeze. “You are the enemy of the vampires. It would make sense to get rid of you so they could walk more free.”
Snart doesn’t look at him this time.
“It’s logical he comes after me. But not before he feeds. He might be the first vampire, but he’s still one. After being closed off for thousands of years, he must be thirsty. Very. Thirsty.” Snart’s fangs are showing, shredding through his bottom lip and drawing the tiny droplets of blood.
Ray always found it interesting how Snart’s own blood never got him hungrier, never made him react - and Ray has a feeling that Leonard wouldn’t appreciate him trying to figure out why right now. There is also the more pressing matter of Leonard’s words.
“Wait. We’re not letting him go out and killing people!”
“I don’t think we’ll have to.”
“And- what?”
Leonard turns to him and this time he shows the fangs on purpose in an ugly grin.
“Do you really think vampires would be stupid enough not to have dozens of victims ready at hand back at their place? After he slept for so long? They wouldn't want the big vamp to drain them." Leonard shrugs and it's like it doesn't matter to him. Like it shouldn't matter to Ray either, but it does. Each and every word hits something in Ray's chest and at the end of it all, Ray can't even think. His mouth opens and closes, before he shakes his head.
"We have to do something about that!" They couldn't just let... however many people die, because vampires decided to revive some old legend of theirs.
“We can’t.” Leonard says, his eyes narrowing. “We have no idea where they brought him. Not yet.” There is a glint in Leonard’s eyes, one that makes Ray almost uneasy.
“What do you mean, yet?”
“He’s going to call. He’s already calling, but he’s still half gone. His mind still half crazy with sleep, thirst  and… something else. But once he’s done feeding he’ll call.”
That doesn't even sound uneasy, it sounds ominous and Ray swallows, taking a small step closer to Leonard. He wants to see his eyes, see them better, because now that he's noticing the small things he can see Leonard's fangs piercing his bottom lip. He can see the way his hands are twitching lightly on his sides and that's not good. Not good at all.
"He'll call." Ray repeats Leonards words slowly, staring at the other man. "Does that mean - Can you hear him?"
Leonard snaps his eyes back to Raymond, blinks and the weird glints gone, just like that.
"I'm starting to think every vampire can." Ray frowns and makes sure to file that information to think about later, when his own mind won't be reeling like it is. "Right now he's just this irritating buzz in the back of my mind. Just the thirst that's slowly getting under one's skin. But if he's that thirsty, he's not concentrating."
He doesn’t have to say any more. He doesn’t have to say just what the Dracula is capable of when he does concentrate - Ray can read it in the way Snart’s shoulders are tense, the way he glances back at his sister.
“I’ll make the serum stronger.” He says quietly and when Snart looks at him, he shrugs. “We don’t have anything to lose right now and you said you could feel his thirst. It might not quiet him down, but maybe you’d be more comfortable on your end. And if things will go all crazy like in the legends, we might need more of it.” In case some humans are turned against their will.
Snart doesn’t say thank you. He never does, he just nods and Ray’s pretty sure that’s the end. He turns to leave, his mind already running with possible old contacts - Snart did say they couldn’t find Drake just yet, because whoever was responsible for digging him out had him hidden off somewhere, but… but if it was one of the big families, then there is still a chance. If Ray can figure out just who it is… it wouldn’t be a problem getting to their Familiars. They would talk. Sooner or later. Maybe Ray could drag Snart with him for the extra scare effect if it was needed.
“His thirst is not only for blood, you know.” Snart calls when Ray’s at the door, saying goodbye to Lisa. Ray frowns and turns at the words.
“What then.”
“Something older, ancient, dangerous. And he won’t stop until he gets it.”
“Is that a warning?” Ray asks, wondering if he should be touched that Leonard cares.
“No.” The man shakes his head. “Just a fact.”  With that, the hideout doors are slammed in Raymond’s face, leaving Raymond staring at them, Snart’s words still ringing in his mind. Something ancient and dangerous, hm?
… maybe it was time to go through Dylan’s old contacts.
@zaritomazlovescharlie
What if the monster you’re hunting inspired
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altanhal · 5 years
Text
i am one (but you are a million)
Summary: He lives forever. She lives to die. It’s a cycle he will never get used to as long as Kaguya’s plague beats in his chest.
Alternate Summary: Cursed with immortality, Kakashi serves and protects Sakura in every single one of her lives. She is Kaguya made human, reborn again and again to erase the plague. The same plague that consumes lives to give Kakashi his eternal one.
Rating: T
T/W: Major Character Death/s
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi & Haruno Sakura, Hatake Kakashi/Haruno Sakura, Haruno Sakura & Uzumaki Naruto
Characters: Haruno Sakura, Hatake Kakashi, Uzumaki Naruto, Ootsuki Kaguya
Additonal Tags: Alternate Universe – Reincarnation, Reincarnation, Soulmates, Friendship, Guardian-Ward Relationship, Partially Completed, Work In Progress
Also on AO3 and FF.net.
Excerpt: 
She's thirteen, only thirteen when she remembers her short lives and his same face.
She's the first of her seven lives that remember.
He hears her laugh at the cruelty of their fate. 
A/N: This is inspired by Caius and Yeul's (from FFXIII-2) Guardian/Ward relationship where Caius is immortal and protects the Yeul reincarnations. I added some vague FFXV lore too. This is tagged as complete even though it's open ended. I plan to extend this but I don't know how I'll end this yet. I have a vague idea of how but I still can't form it in my head. Thank you for reading!
First
He is a warrior first, a man second.
For a plague had killed his wife right after he married her. She wasn't the only one inflicted by the disease because only he was left alive in their small village. It was a miracle and a curse. He didn't want to live without her.
But their Goddess had a plan for him it seems; he is alive because of a little girl. She healed him and she did it when she is six, only six. Her name is Sakura, all pink hair and green eyes. He wanted to weep at the sight of her. His wife in a small girl. Kaguya-sama you've blessed us.
But she isn't the same, this he learned. The same face and nothing more.
"I am Sakura. I am the cure." She told him and that's when he knew, she is the healer of not only him, but of this world.
The plague of the stars was the Goddess's lethal dose. The poison she crafted to kill humanity. And she had given him eternal life, her heart beats in his chest. For as long as he is alive, she too will send forth the plague.
"I am Kakashi. My purpose is to protect you until the last of you dies." Because Sakura will succumb to the plague soon, with every person she cures, death shines brighter in her sea glass eyes, consuming her until she is all but alive.
 Second
The second time he meets her she's holding onto the body of a drenched blonde boy. Her shoulders are shaking and she's got fat tears and snot dripping down her chin.
"Sakura?" The name isn't foreign on his tongue even though he's only met her once. Twice now as she seeks his eyes.
"He's dead!" She shrieks and clutches the blonde boy tighter. "I'll kill him!"
It's not the plague that claimed the boy's life. It's murder because he drowned right under another boy's hand.
"I'll be your friend now. Don't cry Sakura." He tries to console her but she doesn't let the blonde boy go.
"I'll kill Sasuke." She says and he shakes his head. Little girls aren't supposed to be murderers.
"How old are you anyway?"
"Nine."
"Only nine?"
She nods and he feels a weight dropping on his chest.
"Four more years." He says plainly.
Before you die again.
 Third
He'd never seen a baby not wailing before.
Someone left a crib on his front door with a hastily written please, they'll kill her on a piece of paper. He peeks in the basket to find that shock of pink tuff and sea glass.
She is a month old, only a month old, and she's the first one he raised. The only one because he knows he'll never have a child as long as Sakura keeps living. The goddess is cruel like that but he accepts their fate nonetheless.
 Fourth
He thinks it doesn't look right when he sees her in a voluminous miko hakama. The head shrine priestess they call her, because she's the best at drawing out the plague from a dying soul.
He doesn't get tired standing watch of her through her days as she heals and heals with a line that is as long as the roads in the village. She gets tired with every passing moon and he knows this because she's nearing that age. Thirteen, only thirteen, wherein she slumps forward on the shrine floors but he catches her before she hits the mahogany that's polished of blood and sickness.
It's the fourth smile he sees on her cold face and never the blur that's always in his eyes in moments like this.
 Fifth
The thing about being immortal was that he stays absolutely the same. But his silver hair is ancient she says. It grows so long he has to tie it into a ponytail. She likes braiding it and he lets her because she's twelve, only twelve. And girls her age are about beauty and small things, so he lets her. She'll die next year after all.
 Sixth
"Sakura, I thought I said no pets."
"Naruto's not a pet!"
"You named it?"
"Naruto. And he's not a pet!"
Sakura stands at four feet and three inches but the set of her shoulders are threatening; he doubts that she's seven, only seven with that stance. He eyes the creature hiding behind her impressive display, and is more surprised of the animal's-boy's-blonde hair and diamond blue eyes than the nine orange tails he's trying desperately to hide.
"Kitsune." He mutters breathlessly, and remembers in vivid detail the drowned blonde boy in her arms.
Is Kaguya sending gifts now?
 Seventh
She's thirteen, only thirteen when she remembers her short lives and his same face.
She's the first of her seven lives that remember.
He hears her laugh at the cruelty of their fate.
 Eighth
She's crying when she gets back to their tiny tree house, forehead and sea glass eyes hidden beneath unevenly cut short hair. He rushes to her side when he sees the small cut on her cheek.
Who dared hurt the healer of this world?
"What happened?" He asks and she sniffles softly to herself.
"Ino said my pink hair is a curse."
You're a gift to this world. "You're not cursed."
"She cut it."
He balls his fist in rage but outwardly, he stays calm. With a sigh, he straightens himself and walks to sit at the table. Grabbing a pair of scissors, he beckons her.
"Come, I'll give you a cute haircut fit for cute six year olds."
She stops crying, her eyes lighting up in that way he knows how he's spoiled this Sakura.
"Cuter than Ino-pig's?"
"The cutest!"
 Ninth
When he meets her he is speechless. Her hair is longer than his. He's been growing his for longer than this Sakura is alive but hers is ridiculously longer. He doesn't understand how it happened because she's four, only four, and he's well over a hundred now.
 Tenth
By the tenth time he meets her, he is convinced that every Sakura is unique but is still the same old soul. That same soul that is tethered to his, driving a knife in his very being between the years of the last death and the next life.
 Eleventh
Oranges are her favorite while tomatoes are her least favorite, this he learns. He wonders if this is a foreshadowing of some sort, of her future lives. He hopes it isn't sour of any sort but he knows each of her lives will inevitably be in that taste one way or another. He could only hope.
 Twelfth
She came to him covered in dirt and blood. Dressed in rags and pink hair a horrible shade of brown and carnation. A group of men came bounding from where she came. Laughing and leering, and there was nothing more he desired than to rip out their eyes and cut each of their fingers off.
He's never murdered for her before but it took a hundred years for him to do so. He left the bodies to rot and gave her his coat and boots.
"How old are you?" He asks this time because this is the first time he's met her older than thirteen, the age she usually dies by the plague.
"Sixteen." Only Sixteen.
Kaguya is teasing him.
 Forty-eighth
He was given three students to teach the arts of the shinobi. A blonde boy, terribly and wonderfully blonde as the rays of sunshine. Another boy with hair the color of the night sky when the moon is neither silver nor red. He teaches them. Far more interested in their little competitions than his third one.
She doesn't fit with either boy but she seems to think that the two of them match, all light and scattered colors of spring and fall. She is twelve, only twelve but she believes she'll be a good shinobi. One who he'll fear one day, she says. It is comical but Kakashi smiles kindly at her. He doesn't believe her. How could he? When all she cares about is her long soft hair of cherry blossoms instead of the smell of blood that's forever stuck on her palms.
She seems to think-this one likes to think, he notes-that love would be her constant strength.
But he knew better.
The day the next clan village raided their small one was the day this Sakura's first friend fell. The blonde boy was the Sun made human. Morning was killed that day and thus, the world was plunged in eternal night.
The dark haired boy was her only friend then. He did not teach nor approach her. He grew tired of her chasing that boy. But he protected her from a distance. He never could protect her from each death because the plague won her over for the forty-eighth time.
 Sixty-second
It seems that with the absence of the sun 26 incarnations ago, the plague became more selfish and hungry. Two thirds of the world had been wiped out already, only two million remain. This Sakura died healing over a million. The most she did in any of her lives combined. And she died at nine, only nine. This Sakura is the one most loved by the people.
 Ninety-ninth
The first time she asks about her past selves, she cuts her long bubblegum hair short of her ears. It's the shortest he's seen her wear her hair and it's a breath of fresh air for his already weary soul.
"Do I always have hair down to my butt?" She is fourteen, only fourteen and he laughs because she's never used the word butt before. This Sakura is one of his favorites-but then again he has ninety-nine favorites.
 One-hundredth
The next death isn't any kinder than the rest.
She's three, only three, born with weak lungs. She had only saved this life's parents when the plague had claimed her for the hundredth time. This was the youngest he'd seen her die.
 216th
Night still reigns, sunlight is yet to return, but under the silver moon, he watches her murder the boy with hair that blends with the night sky. She is fifteen, only fifteen when she does the opposite of why she's always born.
"Just this once." She tells him and promises to heal a hundred the next day in repentance for this sin.
He helps her bury the body, shoveling dirt on the boy's pretty face. The warmth of something long forgotten caresses the skin of his forehead when he finishes with the crime. The sun rises from the horizon as she grins at him through the blood on her face.
"It's done. It's finally done." She says and he looks at her curiously. "Sasuke killed Naruto. I sacrificed him to appease Minato the Sun God."
 330th
His hair has gotten longer than his whole length. It feels like being reborn when she offered to cut it all off. He thinks that this must be how Sakura feels when her soul restarts at age one, always one. But despite the lack of weight on his head, he knows he'll never truly get the one in his ribs off.
 395th
She's back to dying at thirteen again, only thirteen, and he's getting tired of seeing her smile on her death bed.
 477th
"Kakashi. How old are you now?"
"I don't know. How old are you?"
"Come on, Kakashi."
"Twenty-three."
"Six thousand then."
"I had silver hair since the day of my birth, excuse you."
"I remember."
"What?"
"I remember it. The first time I met you."
". . .you were six."
"Yes, and it's been 5,977 years."
"Good at math, congratulations!"
"Whatever. That means I'm 5,983 years old."
He scoffs. "You're eleven, only eleven."
 501st
He's lost count how many times he's seen her cry when she couldn't save a soul from the plague. Although it is a hundred thousand times less than how many she heals, she grieves nonetheless.
 627th
She tried to braid his hair again, this time though, he refuses. She's seventeen, only seventeen and she is a child in his eyes even with the way her waist dips only to swell to a very inviting hip. He must keep her away from him, keep his hands to himself.
 783rd
He hates how she's growing up and dying at seventeen now. Though he never fails to meet her at eleven, only eleven.
 888th
She promises to marry him one day and she said this on the precipice of death. Promises him this one last thing, but he couldn't answer because if in the next life she doesn't remember about this, then he can't hold her to her promise. She's seven, only seven after all and seven year old girls are not supposed to get married yet.
 959th
"Why do you always say that?" She asks, looking straight at him.
"Say what?"
"I'm only whatever age I was." She furrows her brows at him. Pink and slender arching on a forehead too big but she's beautiful still.
He sighs, shaking his head, refusing to meet her gaze. Because you're always too young.
 1000th
He doesn't say it out loud nor ask what her age is. He can't have her asking the same question again. But despite this, he knows she dies at seventeen in this life.
And never fails to do so in the next lives.
 1,287th
This Sakura is different, he could feel it. She's still fluffy haired and chubby cheeked but there's something absolutely different about her.
"What do I look like to you?" She asks cheekily and he frowns, refusing to answer. "Hey, Kakashi."
He ignores her in favor of staring at the diamond on her forehead. It's new. He's never seen it on her before. It must be some kind of sigil that she's wearing to appease the people who believe she's some sort of goddess in the body of a child. She's the 1,287th rebirth and he's inclined to believe it.
"Tell me, 'Kashi." This Sakura has given him a nickname.
He's amused but he doesn't show it.
"You're eight." He tells her as he pokes the diamond roughly.
She glares at him through big sea glass eyes, and it makes him pause, heart sinking in his gut. A child's eyes but it doesn't belong.
It's like seeing through a mirror. The thousands of years he's lived condensed in her eyes on a face of a cherub.
"You're eight." He repeats, breathless and an ache blooming in his chest. "Only eight."
She scoffs at him. "There you go again." She frowns and crosses her little arms on her chest. She notices the look of despair on his immaculate masked face and her own softens into melancholy.
"I'm sorry I ruined this." She says and holds his hand. He doesn't respond, only closes his eyes.
He doesn't want to hear her say it. Not when she looks so young, so young like a rose still without its thorns; so young and enough to be his daughter. He despises himself when he thinks like that.
"I'm eighteen." She says quietly. "Finally eighteen."
Kakashi cries but he doesn't show it. But why do you look eight?
 1,580th
He doesn't understand why she dies at eighteen now. Kaguya's plague beats hard and alive in his chest as a reminder that she will always die. He's too heartbroken to piece the clues together.
 1,999th
If he keeps counting, every death after would just be a passing. Just that, a passing. Because he would look forward to seeing her again and again. But with each last breathe she takes, she keeps in her death bed an infinite percent of his soul.
 2000th
"So, Kakashi. Which is faster? The speed of light or Minato the Flying Thunder God?"
"Hm?"
"You know, the superhero in the new comic book you bought me?"
"Oh, that."
"So, which is it?"
"Naruto."
"Who?"
"Nothing, Sakura-chan!"
 2222th
Tears have dried from his eyes now. He's become hardened with each smile on her last moments. The blur in his eyes has turned to diamonds, hard and yet beautiful still. Exactly what he is, a hard long life with a beauty always slipping between his fingers.
 2650th
He is reminded again that she is not a child when this Sakura walks all over their apartment in nothing but her plain white school girl panties. She doesn't care if he sees because she remembers all the times he's seen her naked when she was under sixteen. There wasn't any kind of desire in his eyes only the exhaustion of seeing her nude and bloodied for the three hundredth or so time.
The red of her blood flashing in his eyes at the memory but this time she sees something different. He looks boldly at her and she doesn't flinch. Removing her last piece of clothing, she stands before him, unashamed.
"Is this the first time you're seeing me?" She asks with a roguish smile and he just stares at her, dark and brooding, piercing yet nervous.
"I've seen you many times."
"But I was just a child."
"Yes you were."
"How old am I now, Kakashi?"
"Twenty."
Sakura cheekily smiles at him, as if she's won a bet against him, and brings her arms to wrap around his neck. She's so close to him that her breathe fans on his chin. Even though she's reached this age in this life she's still much smaller than him. It amuses him. He can feel her breasts pressing onto him and his hands twitch at his sides. Seemingly limp but it's buzzing with restraint.
"I have a favor." She whispers and lifts herself on her toes. The ghost of her lips just a hairsbreadth from his own.
"Hm?" He hums, unable to open his mouth, afraid that the space between them could close with the movement.
She quirks her lips in a lopsided smirk and he has to close his eyes to deny himself this game she has. How could he, an immortal, let her, a mere twenty year old, toy with him? And the truth of his answer is because it's her.
"Kiss me." She says and he trembles, opening his eyes to meet her sea glass. She's so painfully beautiful and it takes him a while before he responds.
He kisses her. Just that gentle tap of a kiss. And then he runs.
The next morning, she dies at 21.
 3000th
He's tired. So tired.
Of watching her, guarding her, standing vigil over her, standing still beside her, protecting her on her death bed. He can stop it. The only way it ends is if the plague in his chest stops beating. He figured it out after all.
He is just so, so tired. But he doesn't want it to end. He'll have her kill him instead of driving that shattered rusty sword of his long dead clan into his heart. He knows she will never. So he lives and she lives. He remembers each life and death. Sometimes she does too but consistently, in every life, she loves him in all forms.
And that's where he never fails; he loves her too.
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rukafais · 5 years
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Petrichor
A/N: (For @atara-08-art​/atara-08 (tumblr will only let me ping one of your blogs??), who is a wonderful inspiration, an amazingly atmospheric artist and a dedicated lore researcher who spent an amazing amount of time putting together a ton of notes on Hallownest’s linguistics - and also puts up with English to communicate with the English-speaking side of fandom. )
[ao3 mirror for easier reading] In endless sleep, Lurien dreams of the life and world he left behind.
“Your absence has gone through me Like thread through a needle. Everything I do is stitched with its color.”
W. S. Merwin, “Separation”
He is one of three, seal upon the Vessel. Life willingly given in service, to sleep. For a city’s protection, for a king beloved.
He has always been a good servant. He has always been devoted. He has lived for the city, for the King; even before he gave himself up without hesitation, gladly offered everything he was and ever would be, his life already belonged to it. It was only a matter of time, to be asked for and to answer.
He was a perfect choice. Singlemindedly devoted, wholeheartedly loyal.
He should not dream. He knows this. It could compromise the Seal, and worse, the Vessel itself, who may even now hear the Dreamers’ thoughts.
He should not dream, nor lose himself in memory, nor think of anything but his duty.
Lurien the Watcher gives all and leaves nothing for himself.
Lurien, without title, without any home but Hallownest, aches for the sound of rain.
They are fragments. They are indulgences.
He holds them close to the heart, one of the few things he has been allowed to keep in the depths of this vast and endless sleep.
It is the sound - the sound that pounds endlessly against the glass in his memories, that has soothed his worries and lulled him to slumber so many times - that creeps into the too-bright landscape of the dream first.
The rain is unceasing. It always pours here; it shapes the world, and everything in it. It beats down stone and reshapes it; it falls down curves of metal, each droplet a new and ringing note.
Few things move him, it’s said. He hears them whisper in the streets, in the palace; the Watcher, cold and unfeeling, the impartial observer with a heart of stone and steel. A sentinel whose only love is the King himself, they say. Parents use him as a threat against their children, if they are unruly or disobedient; I’ll send you to the spire, and you’ll never return.
Only in the silence of his spire does he escape it, if escape is truly the right word.
He has never particularly cared for the opinions of other bugs, nor what they think of him - only that they leave him be, and do not impede his actions. He acts for their own good, as the King acts for Hallownest’s future; it is not required that he is loved.
He adjusts the telescope, and paints in silence. The scratch of brush on canvas is the only sound in the room, aside from the constant rain.
Under his paintbrush, colours smear and blur, blending together until they become shapes and backdrops, a silhouette of the city’s buildings viewed through the rainswept glass of a curved lens.
He raises his head to look at the gallery he’s created. Pictures of rain-rinsed streets, sketches of guards and citizens with colourful umbrellas or withstanding the downpour. Portraits of those who found the patience to pose and model for his meticulous, self-indulgent hobby.
He feels a soft swell of quiet pride.
The rain continues to fall.
The dream is unmoved by his memories.
It is bright and dry and hot, and full of an alien, scorching light. Nothing like the gentle light of the lumafly lamps, or the pale light of his beloved king. No rain has ever touched this sky, no darkness could survive here save the endless abyss of the Vessel.
Eyes closed against those painful rays, he recalls the touch of chill glass at his fingertips, the smooth metal of a balcony railing. The sound of water dripping.
In his head, it rains.
In his head, there is a time almost forgotten, distant. He has almost lost it.
Almost.
He remembers--
He remembers the storm rolling in, the grey sky, the dark clouds. He remembers the cold wind biting at his exposed shell, scraping at his face.
(He had no mask, then.)
He remembers shivering, breathing hard, not out of fear or even entirely out of cold, but a kind of excitement.
A cloak was dropped and bundled around his shoulders, around his slight, small form; too big to be made for him. Comforting all the same. Warm and soft and heavy, a protection against the chill.
Someone’s presence at his back, someone’s hands on his shoulders. A quiet voice from a past so far away that the words are forgotten and only the tone remains.
Thunder roars, high above. The rain comes hard and fast, the drumming of it filling his entire world. The wind howls.
He remembers the high sound of what must be his own voice raised in laughter.
Even that is a stranger to him.
--so little, in the end. Memories of Hallownest, that ageless kingdom, have buried what little remained.
He feels no regrets. So little of his past, before the kingdom, was worth regarding.
In his head he shapes the almost-forgotten storm, reconciles it with that endless downpour from the city he so loves. From his memories he spins the dark, cold spire, whose dry and chilly rooms are so unlike this radiant, uncomfortable heat.
It becomes his shield.
The Light imprisoned screams from the Vessel’s heart and demands worship. Demands remembrance, demands release. Heat radiates in pulses, in waves, and in it he hears that clamouring voice that scratched at his dreams, even now rings in his head.
(Lurien the Watcher looks impassively from his spire at the burning sea below, and though the light claws and rams against the windows he remembers with exacting, meticulous clarity, there is no crack and no stain upon the glass. His telescope is not marred nor twisted or melted by the heat; his paintings do not fade or dry in the presence of the sun.
No beam of light touches the floors here. For the love of the King, for the love of his city, he creates an impenetrable fortress to keep it safe. He becomes it.
His heart is unwavering, unmovable, focused. He traps the light with his own forgetfulness, his own refusal to consider that outside influence.
So it is, and so it always shall be.
If he regrets anything, it is --)
“This is the price to keep Hallownest safe,” the Pale King says, without inflection or emotion. The same unwavering conviction, the same calm, he has always had. “To ensure that it will always stand.”
(The same unerring will that had captured Lurien so intensely, and never let him go.)
Lurien stands at the walkway, a respectful distance from his King, and looks down into darkness.
The cost, the price. Paid with a mechanical precision, an exacting calculation.
To protect the city, to protect its inhabitants, to protect the kingdom, it should be done. It must be done. It must be done.
The discard of failures, until the perfect vessel is found.
(The slaughter of children, until the perfect one is born.)
He has long since stopped asking how the Pale King bears the weight of his designs. More than anything, he understands this -
the Pale King either holds it so well that no trace of his true feelings remains, or he does not consider it a weight at all.
(He does not know which he would prefer, or even if the preference would make things less terrible.
But then, is that not why he follows him? For that conviction, for that light that never wavers.
No matter how stained and bloodied the price, the Pale King pays it. All for Hallownest’s sake.
Is that not honorable, in its own way?)
He stands at the walkway and observes his King at work, and understands why he is here.
As the Watcher, he bears witness to what lies hidden beneath the Palace, beneath the City itself. That death, that darkness, that price paid in void that cries like the living and stains like blood.
The Pale King watches as the machines he has created slaughter yet another batch of failures.
The discarded vessels (the dying children) fall so far into the abyss that he doesn’t hear them hit the ground.
“We will seal this place, once the Vessel is born,” he says. “There is no need for anyone else to witness such shameful failures.”
Lurien lets no emotion show in his voice.
“It will be as you wish.”
He feels the grip of guilt, of pain, a vice that twists his heart in his chest.
There is no rain to soothe him here.
Only that crushing, deafening silence.
-- if he regrets anything, it is that final, ultimate price paid.
The cost that -- even now -- is bound in chains and holds their bright nightmare at bay, beating unbearably where a heart should be.
But the Seals must hold. For King beloved, for city protected, they must hold.
He does not waver. He cannot. The price has already been paid; to try and release it now would waste everything they had worked for.
He has no illusions that his guilt somehow absolves him of the situation, or washes his hands of those dark stains;
he witnessed, he watched, and he did nothing.
If the day comes when the Seals are broken, though he hopes it will not come, though he hopes seal and prison will do what they were meant to do and hold forever and preserve forever--
--he will accept the judgement.
Lurien the Watcher dreams of a long-lost spire under endless rain, and does not wake, and does not let that light escape. He bends himself to his duty with a will of steel.
(Lurien, who came to a kingdom long ago and left his past and name behind, nurses the pain of guilt that never fades and wonders if it was worth the price.)
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lovingsiriusoswald · 5 years
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Andromeda Mercia [OC Profile]
Notes: First official OC that I love dearly! I got several wips fics written with her in it and I think you've seen her around my blog! Her first character sheet was more focused on her history and family, so in this one I'll be telling more about her in "present-Cradle" times and her relationship with everyone (contains various route spoilers!!) since she doesn't have a suitor yet.
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Name: Andromeda Mercia
Nicknames: Lady Andromeda, Meda, Beautiful Brain
Age: 23
Birthday: November 4
Element: Air/Aether
Faction: Red Territory
Occupation: Royal Advisor
Modern Setting Occupation: Lawyer
Job Description: "The Royal Advisor of the Red Army shall guide his King and Queen’s decisions and check their plans for approval or alteration in accordance to the laws of Cradle. He shall also aid in battle strategies with the Jack of Hearts. He shall vow to remain faithful and loyal to his army, and protect his generals, regardless of how perilous the situation is."
Physical Features: Alabaster skin. Almond-shaped, light brown eyes. Pointed nose. Dark, wavy hair that reaches past her shoulder blades and often ornamented with a comb. Bruised and scarred feet, two deep cuts by the shoulder blades and back littered with small scars. A simplified family crest tattooed below her nape, a small maroon diamond on her left wrist pulse and a small maroon heart on her right wrist pulse. 165 cm height (5'4"). Remarkable strength equal to the Jack of Hearts if not more. [More]
Personality: Very authoritative and strict, but has a kind heart and listens to others wholeheartedly. She follows the rules at all cost and often feels uncomfortable when going against routines. Her traumas and fears made her cold and robot-like when she first joined the army, but she warms up when she spent more time with them. She has a strong mindset and she will fight for justice and peace. Very smart but very dense. She can allure people to her favor without realizing it, but never abuses it. Very soft for animals and children, and childhood memories before her training.
History: It was a family secret that she was born in the Land of Reason due to her mother's complications during pregnancy. Her mother died at birth and stayed in an orphanage for four years before being sent home to Cradle. She was a happy carefree child but when her training started, so did the abuses and tortures. She was shun away from the world because her family thought she was weak and “incapable” of possessing magic like his father's family. Sixteen years later, her father was killed and only then joined the army. [More]
Lore: She can possess magic and repel it, making her unnaturally stronger than anyone in Cradle and the Land of Reason. She was secretly trained by her father and no one else knew but them. She was her father's secret weapon to eliminate the source of the red darkness that plagued the army. A prophecy was found in the Abandoned Castle that she was the one who can defeat the Jabberwocky with the Vorpal Sword and her father knew.
Trivia: 
She can fight in ballet shoes and heels.
All of her clothes were designed and tailored by her late mother’s business.
She is very fond of flowers, especially the Baby’s Breath.
A collection of journals filled with notes and designs are littered in her room.
[More]
Skills: Versatile in weaponry, painting, tailoring and designing.
Pet/s: She rescued a magical phantom fawnicorn from the Abandoned Castle and named her Sora. 
Relationships and stories:
Lancelot Kingsley - A leader she must follow at all times. She admires his ambitions of peace in Cradle. He remembers her as the girl with the odd accent in his birthday parties as a kid. She was taught to fear him during her trainings, but he shows his kindness in ways that caught her off guard. She starts to feel more comfortable and let her walls finally fall down. One night, she learns his connection with Amon to take control over the country, throwing her back deep inside her shell again. She carried the weight of the secret heavily on her own. He confronted her about her change in behavior again and she explodes, resulting the scared woman to betray her army and take refuge in the opposition. The Black Army proposes a treaty to the Reds after learning what she knew and took her in as one of their soldiers to lead a revolt against the Magic Tower. The King of Hearts stands by her side quietly, to prove that he was not the person she thought he was.
Jonah Clemence - An annoying childhood friend. Before her trainings started, the Clemence Brothers visited her often for tea parties and play dates. They were separated for sixteen years because of their future duties, and when they met again they were not the same person they hoped they were. She found his excessive perfectionism annoying and petty, while he thought she was just an empty doll who liked too much sweets. They constantly bicker with one another but little did he know, she was afraid of him. He wanted his best friend back, so he constantly asks her to accompany him with his errands in Central if she wasn’t busy. On their way home, their carriage was ambushed and she did not hesitate to throw herself right into the battle to protect her best friend.
Edgar Bright - A mischievous co-worker and sweets enthusiast. In the army, their positions were almost equal. The Jack of Hearts would often tease her and give her candies and treats to see her brighten up a little. She has never met him before but she knew how dirty and heavy his duties were, especially with the oaths between his and her family. She let her selflessness overrule her when it came to the executions he needed to do, thinking that the man should not bear the heavy weight of a curse. The two were great swordsmen, always ending their friendly duels in a draw. They were also a strong, overpowered duo when it came to battle plans and attacks that their troops always comes home with a win.
Kyle Ash - A very attentive doctor and drinking buddy. When the lazy doctor saw the bruises on her back, he learned the horrible tales behind it and how it affected her well-being. When she was warming up to him, she would help her with his duties in Central if she was not too busy. She handles the annoying children that she somehow gets to listen to her, making his job easier and treats her with food and sometimes, drinks at the pub he often visited. If they’re out, it automatically meant that she was on drunk duty. Having better tolerance to alcohol, she carries him on her back all the way home until Zero sees them, immediately taking care of the drunkard and apologizing for not coming sooner.
Zero - A good-hearted man, listener and body guard. The generals all agreed to the secret “Thaw a Frozen Heart Operation” that would help her feel better in the army. He often accompanies her with her errands around Central if training was over. They were both very curious of many things and they learn them together. She had always thought that the Ace was kind and had already trusted him unlike the others. Whenever she felt down, he would often find her staring at a cold mug of chocolate drink by the counter in the kitchen. She would only say with whatever she was comfortable with and he respects it wholeheartedly, intently listening to her and giving her some advices. One restless night, he woke up in the middle of the night and saw her walking down the hallway. With the way she was moving, he knew something was wrong.
Ray Blackwell - A cat-petting buddy. She first met him by accident at the alleyway with Loki. She was flabbergasted by how the King of Spades was cooing the cats as if they would answer him, but she melted when one of the cats rubbed his face against her calves. At that moment, they forgot that a war existed between their armies and talked about the precious furballs around them. The alleyway was a rendezvous and she would drop by with treats for them and he would sometimes bring in more cats. When she ran away from the Red Army, he did not think twice in taking her in and listened to her reasons, defending her from every opposing opinion that was thrown against her. He believed in her kindness and will for peace and she admired his value for freedom.
Sirius Oswald - A florist and guardian. On her first day outside the walls, she meets him by a flower shop and was stunned at how gentle the giant was when it came to plants. He already knew who she was, Lancelot would often tell stories about her. He often praises her for her knowledge with flowers and how she’s very meticulous with designing and taking care of it. She would approach him whenever she wanted to give flowers as a gift for someone, relying on his experience for the messages she wished to relay. Her innocence warmed his heart and urged him to look after her like a little sister. The Canis Major Flower Shop would send her fresh flowers every two weeks, to replace the previous ones she’s ordered.
Luka Clemence - A beloved childhood friend. He was the only other person she was most comfortable with, constantly missing her days with him when they were younger. When they first met again by the market, it was the first time she was seen smiling brightly by anyone. She learned about his rebellion but she didn’t think of him any differently. They rekindled their old friendship and immediately becoming best friends again. The Jack of Spades would sometimes ask Edgar to give the Royal Advisor the treats he’s made. They always run away from Jonah when they see him around, agreeing that he had gotten very more clingy than before. They discreetly exchange letters often, to catch up with lost time. When she ran away from her army, she called for his name by the gates loud enough for him to immediately come running down to her. He was the first person that she ever cried in front of and pushed him to stay by her side, no matter what.
Seth Hyde - A fashion enthusiast and a suspicious man.The moment she saw him, she was already very cautious around him. He offered to be a friend after complimenting about her uniform and learning that she was the daughter of the best seamstress in Cradle. When their topics were about clothes and designs, they are very meticulous and observant, exchanging opinions and creating sketches together. Her suspicions lessened the more time she spent with him, but he always reminds her of what a horrible man he can be. Regardless, when the accusations against him started pouring, she stood up and sheltered him, believing that he was not the man Amon wanted him to be.
Fenrir Godspeed - A family friend and a worthy opponent. During a festival in Cradle, her necklace was stolen and the Ace of Spades was quick to help her. He recognized how similar she was with his godmother and treated her very formally. She disliked this and encourages him to be himself. He retorts that she shouldn’t be so stiff as well and let her enjoy herself, resulting to a friendly competition of who could tolerate the other’s real nature better. Their duels in festival games are their method of training and getting to know each other. His birthday came around and she was invited for the first time, their closeness stuns his guests but he dismisses them and made sure she enjoyed her night. During the revolt against the Magic Tower, he was always behind her and provided the back-up and assist she needed. 
Blanc Lapin - A trusted friend and guardian. The White Rabbit accompanied her mother’s travel in the Land of Reason. He was the one who arranged her papers in the orphanage and constantly travels between both worlds to finalize everything. When she was finally approved to leave, the older man sends her home. He would visit the Mercia Residence often to teach her the traditions patiently and she adjusted very quickly. When she became the Royal Advisor, she would often come to him if she had legal matters to attend to in Central Quarter. They go out drinking together when Kyle invites them.
Oliver Knight - A bickering buddy and London childhood friend. He was six years old when he became playmates with the three year old girl. The nuns would let her play in the nearby playground with him with his father supervising them very closely. When he learned that she had to leave, he gave her a hat that he helped make as a parting gift. Before they left, he asked the White Rabbit to come by again to take him to where she was. Now twenty years older, they meet again but she doesn’t know who he was because of his curse. A few hours before the end of the festival, she meets him in his adult form, holding a replica of a hat he gave all those years ago and they rekindled their old friendship. During the night of her betrayal, he rushed to the Headquarters and helped her escape. 
Loki Genetta - A pet cat to look over. She found him injured and sick in Kyle’s clinic one day and helped nurse him back to health. He thanked her by stealing her away from the doctor and showing her around Cradle. She would receive hugs from him often and it bothered her at first, but eventually got around it. He was much younger than her and he looked up to her like a big sister and mother he wished he had. At times, he would drop sketchy hints with his connection with Harr and how he knew so much about her. She always has fresh fish for him when she sees him looking around the markets with a pout.
Harr Silver - The boy in his father’s stories. They first met when the Royal Advisor got lost in the Forbidden Forest. She somehow persuaded him to accompany him to the Abandoned Castle. When they got stranded in the evening because of the sudden rainstorm, she admits that he knew who he really was. She tells the tales his father told her before she slept when she was younger, and how important he was to him. When a search party arrived and found her alone, the outlaw quietly followed to see if she got home safe. She would look beyond her window just before midnight to see if the masked man came to visit and inform her of the red darkness that consumed the army. 
Mousse Atlas - A kind gentleman and co-worker. When he left the army and served as a neutral diplomat, he made connections with the Mercia family for legal matters and state welfare. She assisted him with his papers for international agreements before joining the army herself. He treated her very kindly and offers to give anything she wanted. He was abroad on the day of her father’s death and when she inherited her position.
Dean Tweedle - A strict teacher. Teaching her in her teen years, he had little to patience to how distant she would often be during lectures. She hated him, for the most part, for expecting so much of her when she barely had any idea of what he was teaching. Nevertheless, she was grateful that he wasn’t like her other teachers. 
Dalim Tweedle - A generous bar owner and a suspicious man. He flirted with her the moment she walked in with her drinking buddies, fortunately she was innocent and dense, dismissing his advances without realizing. She disliked him for calling her a princess, but she appreciated the endearment. Though they became friends, she still didn’t trust him completely and had caught him several times near the Red Bridge late at night. During the attack against the tower, she found out the truth underneath his advances.
Bonus: Additional Characters
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Cassiopeia Windsor-Mercia - Mother, the angel in her dreams.
Cepheus Mercia - Father and role model. He knew about the abuse and had been arguing with his brother since he began, but it never stopped him. He would constantly apologize for not being there for her everyday to protect her. She loved him dearly, nonetheless. When she was much older, he told her about what happens in the army and that she needs to be careful when he steps down. Before his death, he had a messenger send one last letter that she never dared to open—until the night of her betrayal. The truth was written in those several pages and she used it as evidence for the trials to defend the people she learned to care.
Danaus Mercia - Uncle and traitor. She feared him the most, there was not a day where he tortured her during her younger years. He was the reason why the Royal Advisor was the way she was when she joined the army. An unexpected visit reveals how cruel he was behind closed doors, enraging the generals, Lancelot specifically. 
Bella Windsor - Aunt and second mother. She relies on her the most during her younger years, seeking comfort in her embrace and words of reassurance. She was separated from her when she was sixteen years old, but they sent letters whenever they can.
Sora - Her first pet and happy pill. She knew that rescuing her was a good decision despite being a sign of bad omen, but she never thought that she would receive an angel in exchange.
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grayisholi · 5 years
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@ the DND ask game: ALL OF THOSE QUESTIONS, I CAN'T CHOOSE!! XD (or if not that, the ones you rlly wanna do!!
BOY OH BOY OH BOYIve been answering these throughout the day and I’m too lazy to reread the full document so sorry if I’ve left gaps or whatever but here it is! All 35 questions about dnd! Matt you unstoppable Madman.
1. A favorite character you have played.
You can’t just make me pick between my children!!! I think I might have to say Atticus Sallow, my faeborn bloodhunter, partially because he’s like 100% homebrew content which I LIVE for, but also because he’s probably the most kinda self-insert character I’ve ever played? Almost became the kinda angsty, brooding asshole character before he was like “get your shit together” and learned that loving people isn’t so bad.
2. Your favorite character that someone else has played.
I almost, ALMOST had the pleasure of DMing for @no-more-good-omens and their character was gonna be SO RAD and I’m a little heartbroken he never came to be. A half-drow paladin of Vecna, pretending to be your typical good and wholesome paladin? Dude, I love that kinda two faced backstabbing in a player. It’s such a shame it never came to anything (although if yall still wanna play hmu ;))
3. Your favorite side quest.
Ooh, there’s been so many good ones. Probably when i was playing as Adrian Smirks and went off on a tangent to rescue his brother ? That was the first time I ever got to see Adrian’s more raw and emotional side beneath the suave mask he wears and it was fun to explore his character in that way ^.^
4. Your current campaign.
That I’m DMing? It started inspired by Guy Fawkes and was gonna be “your party blows up parliament” but I got bored of following historical accuracy so it ended up being “blow up the palace in a magical city that just happens to be called London”. I accidentally wrote myself into a hole with this campaign tho, so once they’ve finished this arc I’m handing over the DM hat to my sister @philosophical-wanton because she seems to love it and I kinda miss being a player lmao. I can’t wait for it.
5. Favorite NPC.That I’ve written? Probably Hai Shen, the youngest son of a group of circus performers who were killed and the party got blamed for their murder. He had such a great attitude and his dynamics with the party kicked ass. And the twist that he was actually dead the whole time and it was his soul that had stayed behind to help solve his family’s murder? ICONIC.
6. Favorite death (monster, player character, NPC, etc).
NPC death would probably be Hai Shen, actually. After the party had brought the real killers (A cult to the demon Prince Orcus) to justice, Hai’s time on earth had come to an end. He had really beautiful moment with the party before being reunited with his family. Alternatively, the time I broke my entire party’s hearts? “Artagan’s staff comes cracking into Ellios’ chest, forcing him onto the ground. Artagan raises his sceptre in hand, pointing it menacingly at the young prince. And for the first time, you see him. Like, REALLY see him. He’s not the strong and powerful leader you’ve all come to know him as, he’s not Prince Ellios of the Four Realms. He’s just a boy. A boy who is much too young to be involved in such a grand scheme. And the fear in his eyes. You see the fear he’s managed to keep buried for so long, finally coming to the surface. And then? You don’t see anything, aside from his cold body hitting the ground.” I got punched three times for that moment, but GOD was it worth it.
7. Your favorite downtime activity.
Like in game? A healthy lil bit of vandalising the local law enforcement buildings is always a good time.
8. Your favorite fight/encounter.
Aw man, how can I pick ? I gotta say, that one time we, a level 6 party, managed to take down two earth elementals was pretty rad. The DM kind of expected it to be one of those encounters that we saw and immediately tried to run from, but what she didn’t take into account was that ALL of us had chaotic alignments so we just went crazy. The DM was rolling really badly (thank God) and we were getting really creative (“I use the produce flame centripetal to light my bottle of ale on fire and create a molotov cocktail” “you do WHAT”) and after like an HOUR we won and it was amazing. The rush I got from that victory was better than any drug my dood.
9. Your favorite thing about D&D.
I know I say it a lot, but I legit can’t choose. There’s so many great things about ttrpgs that a lot of people don’t really think of. The creative fulfilment I get from a session is incomparable, the friendships you can build that you couldn’t form in any other way. And like, not to get too real for a sec here, but I grew up with undiagnosed autism and didn’t understand how a lot of social situations worked, and DnD was such a good mechanic for me to try communicating with people without many real world consequences, and I appreciate that experience so much. It’s just such a great thing my dood.
10. Your favorite enemy and the enemy you hate the most.
Can they be the same thing lmao? I mean, I’m obviously partial to Count Cassius, the vampire lord that Adrian slept with lmao. I also always appreciate a good beholder, until I get hit with three disintegration rays IN A ROW.
11. How often do you play and how often would you ideally like to play?
We’ve got kind of a monthly schedule with my main campaign, and I manage to get a couple online games in-between them, but honestly I’d kill to be the kind of group that got together every weekend.
12. Your in game inside jokes/memes/catchphrases and where they came from.
Oh MAN. “I say we do this.” “Yeah, but that’s coming from the guy who decided to tie 3 50ft ropes together to escape the palace.” “iT wOrKeD dIdN’t iT ???” i.e that time I forgot I gave the gnome rogue flying boots so when I planned for them to get arrested at the palace, they managed to escape by tying their ropes together, sending the gnome with it to the top and climbing the wall. I had to improvise the rest of the session. Also “FLINTON BELINDA SKINTON” bc as a role-play exercise I got my party to come up with rumours about their characters and the gnome rogue called Flint AKA Flinton B Skinton decided that one of their rumours was that the B stood for Belinda, and it was GLORIOUS.
13. Introduce your current party.
My current group consists of Flinton B Skinton, gnome rogue. He’s a quick-fingered, silver-tongued gay disaster who can sell anything to anyone. He’s a charming flirt, and a veritable genius in his own right. Kava Daardendrian, dragonborn ranger who loves nothing in life more than her animal companion - her pig Snortin Norton. She’s fun and sassy and shameless, she’s great. There’s Sparks, the fire Genasi Monk, and full embodiment of a disaster lesbian. She drinks, fights, and gets laid, and doesn’t deal with her problems in healthy ways. An icon. And finally Milo, the halfling Bard who falls in love at the drop of a hat and just wants everyone to get along. I call them “The Shenanigang” and I love them.
14. Introduce any other parties you have played in or DM-ed.
A party I joined late? We had Sylvia Moondrop, the half elf sorcerer who was just trying to get along with everyone despite what the world seemed to want. Orland the half orc bard who was just trying to shake off the Barbarian stereotype his family left him with. Rose Morleen, air Genasi fighter who was literally born to kick ass and take names. I joined as Mason Terrai, the Earth Genasi Alchemist with a perchance for explosives. The very definition of chaotic neutral.
15. Do you have snacks during game times?
Of COURSE. What manic wouldn’t ?
16. Do you play online or in person? Which do you prefer?
I used to play online a LOT back before I had friends who were into dnd, but I VASTLY prefer playing in person. The chemistry that’s built not only amongst the players, but also the actual characters themselves is unparalleled. It’s just such a great experience.
17. What are some house rules that your group has?
Anyone can attempt anything, the only restriction is the dice. Don’t question the DM unless it’s out of session, then bully the dm on the groupchat until he’s so pissed off he gives you inspiration just to get you to shut up. And also canon lore and canon rules are bullshit when it’s convenient. That’s about it
18. Does your party keep any pets?
Our ranger, God bless her, has her pack pig Snortin Norton, sold to her by one Flinton B Skinton. And Flint really wants a monkey, he’s been trying to find one for ages.
19. Do you or your party have any dice superstitions?
Not really ? I’m the kind guy that if my dice rolls a 1 I will bench it for a bit, but tbh all my dice are cursed af and I’ve kinda just learned to roll with it by making my characters canonically terrible at everything lmao.
20. How did you get into D&D? How long have you been playing?
Aw man I can’t remember when or how, it’s been so long. I had a couple friends who were kinda into it, but all the games they tried to run were complete disasters. I only really started playing I’m the past year or so? Maybe a little more ? Adrian was my first character, and he was a very RP heavy character in a party of tanks and they all hated him but MAN was it fun.
21. Have you ever regretted something your character has done?
Oh all the time. One time my character was careless and didn’t check for traps on a legendary artefact and it lead to the death of a party member. One time my character got angry at his party and walked out. My characters don’t make good decisions, but that’s part of the fun.
22. What color was your first dragon?
White! I thought it was silver at first and went to go say hi, and it clawed me within half my HP straight away lmao.
23. Do you use premade modules or original campaigns?
Oh dude, original all the way. I live for that shit.
24. How much planning/preparation do you do for a game?
Depends on the session, but usually a good few hours, couple of days if I’m DMing.
25. What have your players done that you never could have planned for?
“You wake up in a mysterious forest. The strained autumn sun shines through the trees. The only thing you can see it each other, the trees, and an old sign post leading to a path that says "Myrrill” on it. What do you do?“ "We walk in the opposite direction of the sign deeper into the forest.” “…of course you do.”
26. What was your favorite scene to write and show your characters.
I wrote a full carnival show one time for them to watch, and then it got derailed when a horrific monster attacked. But writing all the characters and their acts, and watching my players get entranced as I described it ? Magical, my dood.
27. Do you allow homebrew content?
I live and breathe homebrew content. I don’t know what my games would be without it. I LOVE homebrew.
28. How often do you use NPCs in a party?
I make some pretty sick characters if I do say so myself, so I throw them in a LOT.
29. Do you prefer RP heavy sessions or combat sessions?
Oh dude, role play all the way. Fighting and killing stuff is great, but role-play is just so good. We can go from laughing with a bartender to crying over a backstory reveal and it’s just beautiful.
30. Are your players diplomatic or murder hobos?
Depends on the party, but i find the best players are a little bit of both XD
31. What is your favorite class? Favorite race?
Official ? I’m a fan of the hexblade warlock? Bards are always a good call, and to be real playing monks make me feel like an absolute badass. Race wise, there are just so many. If we’re only talking players handbook stuff, half elf is always rad. Outside of that? I’ve been researching the Shadar-Kai lately and I’m LIVING. They’re so rad.
32. What role do you like to play the most? (Tank/healer/etc?)
What would you call the disaster gay? I don’t really gear my characters towards usefulness in combat, so it’s just whatever the class happens to lend itself to.
33. How do you write your backstory, or do you even write a backstory?
I usually write my character, personality, backstory, alignment etc, before I even pick a class or even a race. I basically just make OCs and apply them to dnd rules, and it’s SO much fun. 10/10, would recommend.34. Do you tend pick weapons/spells for being useful or for flavor?
FLAVOUR. My party usually hates me, but what I lack in combat utility I more than make up for in creative out of combat skill checks XD.
35. How much roleplay do you like to do?
Boi, I even RP my combat, and the great thing is it rubs off on my party too. I’ll have a really low initiative and everyone else will be like “I attack and do 10 points of damage” but then on my round I’m like “I use my staff to leap across the battlefield towards the opponent and launch out with a spinning kick to their jaw” and everyone else is like “oh, okay, that’s what we’re doing.” and the battle becomes so much more dynamic and cinematic, it’s amazing !
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