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hunnysnoops · 2 months

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Main Three + Craig with morbid/odd reader

“I want love to change my friends to enemies and tell me how it’s all my fault.”

Stan:

He lets you draw on him but instead of doodling you take a black marker and start to meticulously draw dotted lines and arrows like you’re a surgeon prepping him for cosmetic surgery.

While helping him with farm chores you go into detail about how you can compost and break down a corpse in soil, he just kinda nods along.

You give him tarot readings every week. He thought they were fake and just did it to entertain you until his week played out exactly like you said it would. When he realized he just froze up and went non verbal.

Stan- “Hey, do you have any spells to curse my dad?”

Met him when he was in his goth era.

The two of you were having a moment in the rain when you told him that he should’ve worn shoes with rubber soles in case he gets struck by lightning.

You started writing his eulogy when you were laying in bed together, bro was trying not to freak out. Just spam texted Kyle.

You’re date idea is taking him to an abandoned house.

You guys bonded over music. Now you help him write songs since you’re so used to writing poetry.

Reader- “You’re into music?”

Stan- “Yeah, I guess so.”

Reader- “Have you heard Carnival of the Animals, R. 125: Aquarium composed by Camille Saint-Saëns and performed by Philippe Entremont, Gaby Casadesus, and Yo-Yo Ma?”

Stan- “Can’t say I have.”

Kyle:

Has veiny arms so when the two of you are just chilling you’ll put your finger on one of the veins and start talking about what would happen if you severed it. He’s lowkey interested from a scientific standpoint.

You’ll straddle his hips and pull his lips back to look at his teeth, poking around in his mouth like a dentist. You’re inches apart.

Reader- “Wow, you have beautiful teeth.”

Kyle- “Thank you?”

He’s kinda fascinated by you but also repulsed by some of the things you do/say.

He came to your house and you were butchering your own meat, left right away.

You listen to The Cure together.

When you climb trees to look for birds and squirrels he’ll climb too to help you.

Will get mad annoyed after listening to you say incredibly out of pocket things while he’s trying to focus on something.

He’ll buy you little knickknacks that remind him of you.

Before he got to know you, he talked mad shit.

Sometimes gets super freaked out by your behaviour, you straight up give him the heebie-jeebies.

Reader- “So this is my collection of human teeth.”

Kyle- “All of those are yours, right?”

Reader- “Actually, none of them are mine.” 😁

Kyle- 😨

Kenny:

Sits through horror movies and weird foreign films with you. He didn’t like it at first but he came around and started sourcing out movies he’d think you like.

You took him to a Wicca ceremony and he had the time of his life.

You taught him how to make flower crowns and now he makes them all the time. He likes to give them to Karen.

When he sees something off-putting or creepy he will immediately take a picture and send it to you.

Reader- “Hey, it’s raining. Do you want to go look for earth worms and build a worm colosseum?”

Kenny- “Hell yeah.”

He likes to go for walks in the forest with you, you guys will look for bugs and pick them up or make them houses of leaves and twigs.

He’ll help you wash the skulls/bones you find.

Never really minded that you were weird, he approached you first because he thought you were hot.

He loves when you play with his hair and tie little braids into it.

You guys tried to recreate The Blair Witch Project but failed miserably when you actually got lost in the woods.

You’ll meet up at the graveyard and just sit in the grass while you talk about ghosts and ghouls. Sometimes you’ll walk around and stop at a specific grave and guess how they died.

Reader- “Would you rather be in Cannibal Holocaust or The Poughkeepsie Tapes?”

Kenny- “Erm, I gotta pick The Poughkeepsie Tapes.”

Craig:

Generally goes along with whatever you want to do.

Reader- “Can we go down to the riverbank to pickup fish heads and then eat out their eyes?”

Craig- “Yeah, sure.”

He’ll just watch you roll around in the mud or set little twig piles on fire, he won’t join in but he also won’t interfere.

You’ll talk to Stripe, not in the baby voice that people usually use to talk to animals but your tone will be dead serious like you’re talking to a grown adult.

The two of you will watch true crime documentaries together.

He’ll fuck up anyone who calls you weird or a freak.

When you’re out in public, you’ll point someone out and predict how they’re going to die.

There’s nothing you can do that’ll shock him, he’s unfazed by everything that you say.

Sometimes gets concerned with you around Stripe.

You’ll disappear for hours at a time and he’ll get worried, sending you a million texts then you’ll randomly show up at his door soaking wet or covered in dirt with no warning.

Craig- “Where have you been? You weren’t answering my texts.”

Reader- “I was meeting with a friend of mine who is alive.”

Craig- “Oh, that’s cool.”

Requests are open! I’m working through a couple right now. Thanks to the anon who requested this.

#kyle broflovski #kyle south park #south park #eric cartman #kenny mccormick #south park x reader #south park x y/n #stan marsh #craig tucker #sp craig #craig tucker x reader #stan marsh x reader #kenny mcormick x reader #kyle broflovski x reader #sp kyle #south park hcs #south park headcanons

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feralrabidcrow · 8 months

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What do you think the mercs hobbies were, past and present?

Scout loves drawing, as inspired by Expiration Date. He's really good at it, like crazy good, but he usually uses his talents for chaos, such as drawing Spy having sexual congress with the Eiffel tower. He also collects baseball cards, and sings Tom Jones to himself when he's alone in his room, but everyone knows because of how loud he sings. He sings into his baseball bat like it's a microphone, most passionate ballad of 'Sex Bom' you will ever hear.

Soldier is devoted to creating an army of raccoons, no matter how much the raccoons bite and scratch him. If you can consider that a hobby. Can you count snapping Scout's puny neck as a hobby? Is violence in general a hobby? He takes great joy in trying to 'shape up' the other mercenaries, through wake up calls, making them eat nasty MREs, yelling at them to train harder, and running the base like it's boot camp. I don't think this man has picked up a relaxing pastime in his entire life.

Pyro loves collecting things, anything really. Stickers, candy, rubber ducks, if it fits in their pocket, they'll hoard it somewhere only to bestow it to someone randomly (at least it can seem random) as a gift. Obviously they have a hobby for starting fires, but their less destructive hobbies include tea parties, scrapbooking, cake decorating, and hanging out with Engie in the workshop just to pass time.

Demo loves gathering the mercs around and telling them ghost stories. If there's a thunderstorm, and the lights go out, he's grabbing the candles and the spookiest voice he can muster. While the man loves his scrumpy, in the past before he just stuck to the good ol reliable stuff, Demo dabbled in the art of mixology, crafting up the most bizarre yet delicious drinks you could think of, but they certainly could pack a punch! He hasn't entirely lost the skill, but most of the time he's too drunk to work a bar with the finesse he once could. There would be a lot of glass shattering.

Heavy is a big time reader. Whenever he has the time to spare, he's pulling out a thick book that no one can identify and digging in. However, he has a remarkable ability that I lack; the ability to remain aware of his surroundings while buried in a book. No matter how invested he is in the literature he's currently consuming, if you call for him he'll drop it and come help. He enjoys spending time with Medic's doves; after their beloved doctor, he's their second favourite person. He also enjoys cooking, something he learned from his mother a great many years ago.

Engineer obviously spends a lot of his free time in the workshop tinkering about, but he also loves to spend time just hanging out with the mercs, who he all considers friends, that Friendly Engie! Whether it's a barbecue, a game of poker, karaoke night, whatever shenanigans the mercs are doing to pass the time between matches, Engie is right there in the center of it, enjoying all the bonding time with his teammates that they can get. He's a major extrovert, and can get on well with just about anyone he meets!

Medic takes his job as a hobby, delighting in reaching into someone's chest cavity and playing God for a bit. He's very passionate about bird care, treating his flock of doves as if they were his children. He also loves music, and has a radio playing in the medbay whenever he can. Medic has a wonderful singing voice, but he rarely sings nowadays, though he used to in his younger years. He also is a surprisingly good dancer, but only Heavy knows about that one.

Sniper loves abandoning the base and going out into the middle of nowhere to just be one with nature and get some peace and quiet. He goes hunting, catches himself some game, cooks it over a fire, spends the night stargazing and listening to nocturnal animal calls. He's the most introverted of the group, and while he does sometimes sit in for poker and other team activities, he's happiest in the great outdoors by his lonesome.

Spy is a connoisseur in fine wines and other elegant alcoholic drinks, taking the time when he can to attend fine dining and wine tasting events. He plays piano, rather impressively well, among his wide set of talents, but unlike many talents that he picked up just for a job, he takes great joy in his musical skills. He also has a fondness for seducing your mother.

#team fortress #tf2 #team fortress 2 #team fortress scout #tf2 headcanons #tf2 fanfiction #tf2 writing #scout tf2 #soldier tf2 #pyro tf2 #demoman tf2 #heavy tf2 #engineer tf2 #medic tf2 #sniper tf2 #spy tf2

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historianthesecond · 10 months

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Who Came in With the Sea [VI]

FINALLY! 😭😭 <33 This chapter took so long to come out and I don't even know why lmao

Let's ignore that the chapters are just getting longer 💀 anyway, I hope you like it ^^

Nikolai Lantsov! (Sturmhond!) x Fem!Mermaid! Reader----4.3K---SFW**

> M A S T E R L I S T <

<- Previous // Next ->

Synopsis: When you’re rescued from a slaver ship by a privateer and his crew, you have to get used to life aboard the Volkvolny as you try to uncover how to avenge your capture and those who you left behind--just as your place in this new world where there seems not to be a home for you anymore.

Chapter Summary: Every day you get closer to Rakva, the land once you called home and that now only brings back haunting ghosts. Though you aren't alone as you think you'd be, once it's time to face the nightmares.

You could never remember the name of your hometown. A Saint fisherman whom the humans had called it in honor of. It was around forty minutes waking to the nearby city, much more secure of the sea's sudden rage by some hills in which the farmers harvested the sweetest apples you'd ever had, the biggest potatoes your mother used to serve in her fish tomato soup.

Perhaps the humans had believed your kind was sent by the Saint himself to aid them, when the merfolk appeared in a cave near the nearby docks, many, many years ago. The mermaids would change the course of devastating cyclones, help the humans with bountiful catches, using the pirates coming to raid the village as their offerings to the Depths. Even when they disappeared, their Gifts to the town remained.

Your kind had learned to shapeshift, giving the Depths offerings rich in flowers and fruits, in animals and human possessions that ended up abandoned or lost on the beach.

While in disguise, the humans gave your kind a home in which you had the ocean on your porch, the Depths so close to you that your instincts wouldn't be screaming to return to the waves. In exchange, because you people were so used to deals like these, you’ll protect them from being attacked, and they gave you the land in which you wouldn't be hunted. A delicate, centuries-old treaty that ought not to be broken.

Until one fatal day.

It always started with the smell. The distinct odor of gunpowder permeated the air, and then, the following, logical, burn of wood. The wooden boards of the port collapsed, doing the same wailing noise as the pitched roofs of the houses along the coast.

Incredibly early in the morning, when the sky was still gray, some streaks of orange peeking from between the mist that hung in the ocean like a veil tearing with the shapeless shadows of approaching ships.

The flares of their cannons made the earth tremble, making you jump out of bed, senses heightened when the air filled with smoke as if you’d been trapped in the ghost realm.

Soon enough, all that would be left would be ghosts.

They weren't truly pirates—wearing uniforms and using fancy rifles instead of pistols and blades. They burned everything in their way, all the obstacles. Searching, hunting, killing.

Hunting your kind. Killing them to collect their blood on vials that would get auctioned overseas.

They knew you were there, that mermaids had made a living among humans as was foretold by those silly fairytales people tended to forget reaching a certain age.

A secret that shouldn't have gotten out of the small bay of the fishing town, not when the mermaids had been sent by the patron Saint to aid the working people to have plenty of catches, pleasant weather, and an active link to their faith.

A belief that wasn’t enough against tragedy.

Someone had told the hunters, and for sure they weren’t the people whose voices screamed, bleeding as the red rays of sunlight filtered through the grey, tinting the waves of the same crimson hue, flicking reflections of the flames consuming any life left.

Your parents and friends were outnumbered, because the humans had made tools whose only purpose was to destroy, and they did it very well. Bullets pierced their way through the skin, and not even open contact with the sea could heal it quickly enough before another wound bloomed open.

They had told you to run, but there was no escape, and inland would only drive you crazy without the presence of the Depths. So, you followed them in a futile attempt to help, to even surrender with them if things went awry. To welcome the sea and become one with it.

You had read in a fairytale that mermaids didn’t have a soul, so they enjoyed chasing humans down in search of one. It wasn’t true, of course. The merfolk chased them as a gift to the Depths, as an exchange for power.

But taking giving too much to the Depths pushed their hunger for more into something sinister. It corrupted as all power did. Breaking once the beauty that many legends had praised to the mermaids; all that would remain would be black, bottomless eyes and shark-like teeth, a tail like a tangle of algae, grey skin with amorph scales.

They would become like the Depths, a reflection. Their closer Daughters and Sons. Powerful, but with an insatiable hunger that would make them commit atrocities just like the one that pinned you to that sand cliff, with only your toes tethering from the darkness, the salty taste of the water mixed with metal and the acrid of burned things. Decay.

When the hunters got you, you were about to sink into the abyss. But you saw it.

You saw them.

Pale, ghostly figures hovered between the black water, one gifting the bodies to the Depths, the other watching as the killed merfolk became sea foam that was swept by the currents as if they and their familiars would have never existed.

You could read the disgust on their faces, teeth bared in a scowl.

The traitors of the Depths don’t deserve the gifts It brings us. And such gift included life itself.

Being on the surface, you would have felt the wet streaks of tears staining your cheeks. Alas, all you got was the burning of the poisoned harpoon clung to your side, fire traveling in your veins that was more fury than pain.

You would make them pay. You must make them pay.

The hunters dragged you to the surface then, and your jaw clenched at seeing the sirens disappear down the abyss, leaving the humans to leave despite the sirens’ raw instincts to kill and feed the Depths, of gaining more power with each silhouette sinking to the bottomless dark.

But they couldn't kill the ones making their dirty deeds, as it was forbidden to cause harm to another of the Depth's cherished creations—you were a family, after all. Or once had been.

You remembered your mother’s words about going swimming alone. That there were more dangerous things roaming in the water than greedy humans.

The chilly air made you realize something, seeing the blurry image of your hometown torn in ruins, with smoky serpents ascending to the sky, wood calcinated, and blood splattering the golden sand. You’d become one of those things your mother feared and loathed so much if you wished to lay to rest the ghosts that will be following you in each look toward the past.

In each nightmare that ended bathing you in a cold sweat, ghostly fingers paralyzed your being with pleads, with screams.

You should have come down with us.

*~*~*~*

Nikolai felt the mattress dipping, the pair of legs next to him shaking as if the two blankets thrown on top of you both weren't enough. It made him remember his time while serving in the army, when in the middle of the night, laying in the worn-out cot before entering the battlefield, he would lay awake hearing the nightmares plaguing the other soldiers’ minds—they who had been brave enough to go to sleep in the first place.

But he wasn’t in the border fronts anymore; winter nights where the wind howled, carrying away the screams of the ghost of the war, the ground covered in ice that creaked like broken bones with each stride of his boots. He could feel the gentle sway of the sea, the humid air clinging to his hair.

His eyes took a couple of seconds to get used to the darkness inside his quarters, the greyish light of the upcoming morning sheepishly entering the edges of the window.

Nikolai looked at the ceiling, from the corner of his eye taking count of your figure, which confused him for the spare moments in which his mind was calmed and empty. Then, the memories came rushing in like a flood.

Like the flood that would occur in the Volkvolny if he couldn’t repair it before the ship could enter another storm.

Focus. The sound wasn’t a dream, was it?

He heard a whimpering sound, the cry echoing in the still room in which the only thing brewing a tempest was your mind. Your body shivered against his, hands clasping the blankets so hard he knew you’d wake up not feeling them at all.

Even with the poor lightning, he could see the wet streaks running down your cheeks.

What to do? It had been so many years since he got to wake up someone from their nightmares. Back then, he would sit at the edge of Dominik’s cot, gently shaking him by the shoulder, whispering his name to not wake up the rest. But where his friend would thrash under his grasp, you huddled in closer.

He called your name, so many times that at some point it became a prayer.

You opened your eyes in wide, naked terror, looking at something that wasn’t there.

“I should have gone with them,” you said in a broken voice, strained with tears.

He held you by trembling shoulders, trying to make his touch ground you out that memory—because no dream could ever be this vivid.

“Breathe. Look at me.” He searched for your eyes, but they were blurry with tears Nikolai dried off with the pad of his thumb.

“Why am I still here when they’re gone?” you said, his heart breaking, mind returning to those first nights without Dominik. An empty cot next to his. A funeral he couldn’t aid to. A friend he couldn’t save.

It should have been me.

The wounds made hours before were gone when he scooped closer, your body covered in a cold sweat, seeping into your bones with each trembling jerk of your legs and arms. Even if you wouldn't have been akin to helping him, Nikolai knew he would be still here, with his arms hugging you when your whimpers broke into full sobs.

“Because they knew you’ll do great things in their place,” Nikolai muttered, even if some days he couldn’t believe it himself. “That your purpose is yet to come, while theirs… well. They know you can do it on your own,” he added, his shushed tone moving the hairs atop your hair. You smelled like the sea, the marine breeze that came to port in the summer, the ones he loved to walk under along the beach. “Sometimes it’s just love. One can’t possibly stand to see our beloveds die without at least trying to save them.”

Your fists left the bedsheets, curling around his back as if trying to ground yourself. “I don’t think I can do it,” you replied, voice barely above a whisper that still carried out your broken heart. “I hate sacrifices.”

He rested his head atop your head, allowing you to curl around him, nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck, here where the haunting smell of burning powder faded into musk and books and brandy. Not a ghostly memory, but a solid person whose heart lulled yours into calm.

“Me too, angelfish,” he said, knowing full well he was more than willing to die for any of his friends. For you, even. His hand brushed your hair toward your back, and he was glad you couldn’t see his sad smile when he replied: “You’ll have me here to help you, angelfish. If you’d have me, that is.”

Between your shaking sobs, you nodded slightly. “I want to. Please.”

Nikolai stood very still, just holding you as if you were made of glass despite having seen you outlined in the grey veil of the storm, in the blue of the waves the ancient power of the deep sea seeped into your eyes.

“Do you want to hear a story?” you said, and he hoped you wouldn’t notice the goosebumps your breath drew all over his arms. “A mermaid story.”

“I would love to.” He nodded, thinking that perhaps, someday, you would like to hear a soldier’s story, too.

*~*~*~*

You were looking out at the sea when the music started floating around the Volkvolny’s deck. Just like the clear evening, it sounded cheerful and light, contrary to the dread that settled on your stomach with every passing hour.

Ever since the incident with the foreign ship, you had started to avoid the water. Your friend the squid was gone, too. Because it could sense that it wasn’t safe anymore.

Soon, you would be able to see the outline of the coast, familiar hills covered in green contrasting with the gold dunes along the beach, and houses dotted on the horizon.

Rakva. Your home—or what it was supposed to be your home, before.

They were waiting for you there, you could sense it in the way the water felt still, of something roaming underneath the ship. You couldn’t even talk with Sturmhond about it, promising in your mind that you’ll get it covered like you did yesterday.

Because it wasn’t fair for you to drag him into your situation, even when you had told him the whole story. Something that you wished to regret but couldn’t.

He had hugged you, making you look into his eyes as his whole presence grounded you. For a moment the past didn’t bleed out in the tears sieging your eyes, the future wasn’t the amorph shadow of a tragic ending. It was just you in his arms, seeking a refuge where you could turn once the sea had become too stormy to keep navigating.

Just another everlasting hug that made you want to freeze time.

Now you looked at Sturmhond, his figure tall but nonchalant, talking with his crew as they were surrounding the table with uneven legs that Tolya had brought from the gallows to play cards. The promise you made to him still weighting in your mind. Of staying.

You wanted so badly to join them, to have a smile to give them, and just seek out a brighter future, but things weren't so easy. You still had to find your revenge, hoping that perhaps it would bring you peace because nothing else had.

Your hands grasped the rail, making the wood creak. Because even if you loathed sacrifices, you were willing to make one to keep them all safe. To keep him safe. After all, they were just trying to save you back then, too. The least you could do was do the same.

You gazed at the waves until they became ink black under the shine of the moon, a vivid orange hue coming from the deck where Sturmhond’s crew and the new passengers were chatting and laughing, the rhythmic sound of their footsteps as they danced echoing on the deck, all celebrating to have returned home alive.

The gloomy part of you wished you hadn’t.

No. You thought, breathing deeply, feeling the pressure of the humid air starting to get heavy and charged around you. Calm down.

Sturmhond was right. Your family wanted you to escape from the love they had for you, not for duty. They didn't plan for you to hunt down the sirens that sought the treacherous merfolk who dared to live among humans and not bring them to the Depths. They just wanted you to live.

“I can’t do it,” you muttered, feeling a knot in your throat. You felt that rage was the only thing keeping you pushing forward. If it evaporated, then what? Who would you be?

I wanted to invite you to stay with me, your mind remembered, making your cheeks hot. Could you?

I would miss you if you left, Sturmhond had said. You looked back at them, all happy and bright like the stars on a clear night. And among them was the brightest, at least, to you.

He caught you looking at him, smiling goodbye to his crew to join you in your lonely corner.

I would miss you, too, you admitted, his steps echoing on the wooden floor.

Sturmhond extended you his hand that wasn’t holding a glass of brandy, the amber liquid catching your attention for the way it reflected like honey against the lamps. “Do you want to dance? It’ll help you warm up against the wind,” he told you, settling next to you against the rail.

You hadn't talked that much after what you told each other last morning, that you both had lost a lot of things—or rather, that he hasn’t had them in the first place. That he had forged his place in this world aboard this ship, a thing that part of you thought you couldn’t do.

Perhaps you only needed help.

“I don’t dance,” you said, looking at a growing smile curving his lips. “What’s so funny?”

“I can’t believe you. You surely went to festivals and danced the night away with someone lucky enough to be your dance partner,” he chuckled, looking around before saying: “Unless you can’t dance because you’re bad at using your pretty legs.”

You frowned. “I’m very good at using my legs, thank you for your concern.” You could run and jump and climb trees, but dancing had never been an interesting activity for you, even if your parents taught you from a tender age.

“Then concede me a dance, my lady,” he said. “I won’t disappoint you—in fact, I’m quite an excellent dancer.”

"At this point, you're just utterly perfect," you replied, not without a hint of sarcasm in your voice.

“It makes me very happy you’re finally noticing, love.”

The cold breeze of the ocean didn’t help to cool down your hot cheeks. You didn’t say anything, thinking that perhaps he would leave. But he didn’t. He had been used to your silences during your night watches, lending you comfort by his presence alone.

“I wanted to tell you that my offer still stands,” Sturmhond muttered, his fingers playing with the glass. He turned to look at you. “You can stay here. This could be your home, just as it is for many,” he said, looking at his crew.

As it is for me, hung in the air.

“I…” you said, fingers tapping along the rail, feeling the soft surface, being brushed over for who knows how many hands through the years, against the rain and the sun, the wind. You wanted to be as studier as this piece of wood. “I have to… finish some business I left behind.”

His eyes hardened, knowing the risks your vengeance would bring onto you. “Let me help you.”

“I can’t.” You couldn’t meet his eyes. “I don’t want to lose anybody else.” Much less you. But you couldn’t say that, because the sea was listening, just as the creatures lurking beneath.

You looked at him with a faint smile, your hand covering his with a fleeting weight. “I think I’ll concede you this dance, my lord.”

Sturmhond chuckled, and for a moment you thought he would keep insisting, not letting you slip away with such a ridiculous distraction. But pressuring you wasn’t the way either.

He put the empty glass over a cargo box nearby, his other hand tugging yours to keep you half-hidden from view. Your frown must have been amusing to him because he passed his thumb over the crease.

“Wouldn’t be as special if we have a big audience, don’t you think?” he said, his hand finding a comfortable spot on the curve of your hip. “I’m dancing with a beautiful mermaid, after all.”

The music sounded muffled, shadows elongated around the corner you had claimed as a personal ballroom, barely illuminated by the moonlight peeking between the clouds and the ghostly orange hue of the lamps reflected in the sails.

Still there in the semi-penumbra, you saw his golden hair glow, and his bright smile made your stomach feel too light, just like your feet as he twirled you around. A giggle escaped from your lips as you felt the breeze enveloping you.

It made you go back to the docks, your figure steeping on the edge of the wooden planks, ready to transform into your mermaid form to join your family on the water.

“Isn’t your smile so lovely?” he commented, cradling you into his arms after the turn. So awfully close to being considered proper, but you didn’t mind, so his shoulders relaxed when you put your free hand above one instead of placing it into the inner curve of his elbow.

“I still think it’s the mermaid charm,” you commented, biting the inside of your cheek to stop you from smiling even more. “I’ve been lulling you at night with my voice, after all.”

You were swaying in a slower rhythm than the cheerful melody floating in the air, cast away in your little world—the same one from his chambers after dark, where you would lay next to him and just talk, unsteady whispers of flicking stories about mermaids collecting shells for the kids, about a young boy learning how to sail.

Sturmhond smiled. “The best sleep I’ve had in so long.” He squeezed your hand taken in his, leaning down his head so slightly that all you could see was him. “So much that in the morning, when I wake up and see you, it still feels like a dream.”

“I—, you’re just saying that” you breathed, wondering if he could hear your heart pick up speed.

“I’m prone to be shameless, but I’m speaking with my heart here, angelfish," Stumhond called your name in a mutter, like a secret he would like to treasure within his heart forever, and you couldn’t deny him from letting him see your eyes boring into his. “Tell me how foolish it is for a ship’s captain to want a mermaid as much as I want you. I need to hear it—though I can’t promise your answer will change how I feel.”

You stood there; lips pressed in a thin line that already felt like rejection to him.

“I can’t promise you any more things,” you said softly, the dance ending abruptly but not so your closeness. “Things that perhaps I won’t be able to fulfill.” You looked away for a moment, your gaze fixated on the waves. "What if I can’t come back after… that? What then? I don’t wish you to hold onto the ghost of a broken promise.”

“Better a broken promise than the eternal regret of things left unsaid.”

“You’re too deep to be just a privateer,” you joked, but you couldn’t make him laugh. Shrinking slightly, you muttered: “I think it’s very foolish of you.”

He arched his eyebrows, hands still on your body as if trying to memorize it in those flicking moments before falling asleep when you held onto him to climb onto the deck after your swims.

“But I think I’m a little bit of a fool, too,” you whispered, your head tilting upwards so your words could be heard amidst the growing noise of the waves leaping against the Volkvolny’s hull.

Sturmhond chuckled. “Luckily for me,” he said, his breath tingling your cheeks, eyes drawn to your lips. You were so close you could taste the brandy from them.

A drizzle started falling, icy rain quickly seeping into your clothes as Sturmhond tried to cover you with his jacket without much success.

He looked at the sky, lead clouds covering the moon in thick overlays. The ship had just started entering a storm. “Perhaps not so much today, it seems,” Sturmhond added with an annoyed pout, which made you smile.

The sways of the waves increased, but that wasn’t the reason you leaned in against him in a hug, head buried against his chest. On your tiptoes, you gathered the courage to settle a shy kiss on the outline of his jaw.

You felt him stiffening, his hand returning to your waist to give it a fleeting squeeze. “You should do that again, angelfish, once we get out of this storm.”

“Captain!” you heard someone shout from the crow’s nest. “It seems we should deviate the route.” The man let fall the spyglass into Sturmhond’s grasp. “There’s a cyclone ahead of our original course.”

He frowned, and you could read his mind. This wasn’t a tropical cyclone’s zone, much less in the starting months of winter when both the air and the water became colder.

“I’ll take the helm, then,” he said, his eyes warmth, hands putting the jacket over your shoulders to keep whatever speckle of warmth was left. “You should go inside.”

“I’m going to fetch raincoats," you answered because there was no way you would let him alone navigate amidst the tempest, no matter how many times he had done so.

Maybe you could even make the storm weaker, even if it was another trap you’d be willingly falling into.

“You don’t have to, angelfish,” Sturmhond took your hand before you could slip away, almost a plea for you to refuge inside his chambers, where you would be safe.

“I want to. I’ll help you. If you’d have me,” you said, hearing the rumble of thunder growing closer.

His bright eyes crinkled in crescents when he grinned, a boyish smile that ended with a strained laugh bubbling out his chest.

“Completely,” he muttered, letting his hand trace the curve of your cheek, the warmth of your skin soothing against the freezing rain. “Endlessly.”

You smiled sheepishly, feeling your cheeks boiling despite the drop in temperature with every league the Volkvolny approached the storm’s heart.

“Then I’ll be back,” you called, letting go of his hand to run toward the latch and down his chambers. Along the way, you couldn't stop thinking that even if there were some promises that you couldn’t keep, that wouldn’t mean you won’t try.

#nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #shadow and bone x reader #nikolai lanstov x reader #nikolai lanstov x you #shadow and bone x you #nikolai lantsov imagine #shadow and bone fanfiction

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cherryrainn · 9 months

Note

hi hey hello fellow angst lover, I have a request for Lackadaisy! :D

We all know Mordecai is nowhere near a good headspace or mentality, especially over the years where he's done some messed up shit. He may even be secretly anxious in certain situations, but it usually doesn't escalate, considering how calm and collected he is. May I request a platonic, angst and hurt/comfort oneshot where Nico and Serafine experiences Mordecai having a panic attack over a situation that triggered some awful memories?

Have a good day and I hope to see you around!! <3

━━ ✧ 𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐞

─ ✩ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ; no pairing, just the marigold trio

─ ✩ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ; i love you. I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU!!! we're best friends now.

─ ✩ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ; panic attack, emotional distress, mention of past trauma

the old abandoned building loomed in the distance, its broken windows and crumbling facade telling stories of a bygone era. it was the kind of place that most folks avoided, a relic of a time when this part of the city had been alive and bustling. but for mordecai, nico, and serafine, it offered a rare moment of respite from the chaos of their lives.

the trio had been wandering the city's outskirts, trying to keep a low profile after a particularly messy job for the marigold. nico and serafine had been regaling mordecai with one of their typically animated conversations when they stumbled upon the decaying structure. despite the foreboding exterior, curiosity got the best of them, and they decided to explore.

nico lounged against a weathered wooden beam, his red bandana loosened as he talked animatedly with his sister serafine. their laughter echoed through the empty halls, filling the space with a strange, dissonant kind of joy.

mordecai, normally the picture of stoicism, stood a few feet away from them. his tuxedo-colored fur seemed darker than usual in the gloom of the building. he appeared lost in thought, his olive-green eyes distant. the conversation around him was a distant hum, like the buzzing of bees on a warm summer day.

as nico and serafine continued their banter, mordecai's mind was a turbulent sea of memories and emotions. he had always been skilled at burying the past, locking away the horrors and regrets that haunted him. but today, something had triggered a flood of memories, and he was drowning in them.

it started as a subtle unease, a tightening of his chest that he tried to ignore. he clutched his glasses tighter, his fingers trembling imperceptibly. the memories clawed at the corners of his mind, threatening to break free.

nico noticed the change first. he paused mid-sentence, his eyes narrowing as he studied mordecai. "hey, mordecai," he called out, concern lacing his voice, "you look like you've seen a ghost. you alright?"

mordecai's throat felt dry, constricted. he tried to speak, to reassure nico that everything was fine, but the words caught in his throat. his chest tightened further, and he could feel the panic clawing its way up from the depths of his soul.

serafine, her creole accent lilting through the air, chimed in, "yeah,, you don't look too good. you ain't never been this quiet before." she took a step closer to him.

mordecai's breathing quickened, each inhale feeling like a struggle. his heart hammered in his chest, a deafening rhythm that threatened to drown out the world around him. he felt trapped, suffocated, as if the walls of the old building were closing in on him.

nico, always quick with a quip, attempted to lighten the mood. "come on, don't leave us hangin'. you're killin' the vibe here," he said, flashing a lopsided grin. but his smile faltered when he saw the terror in mordecai's eyes.

mordecai's vision began to blur as tears welled up, unbidden. he couldn't let them see him like this, couldn't let them see the vulnerability that lay beneath his usually calm and collected exterior. but it was too late.

serafine, known for her lack of empathy and her ruthless nature, didn't usually concern herself with the well-being of others. yet, even she couldn't ignore the turmoil in mordecai's eyes. her voice, while still carrying a hint of her usual dispassion, softened as she spoke. "mordecai," she said, her accent lending an unexpected warmth to her words, "what's troublin' you?"

mordecai couldn't find the words. ge shook his head, his breathing ragged and uneven. his body felt like it was betraying him, like he was spiraling out of control.

nico and serafine exchanged a worried glance before closing the distance between them and mordecai. they reached out simultaneously, each placing a reassuring hand on his shoulders. it was a simple, silent gesture, but it conveyed their understanding.

as nordecai's panic attack raged on, they remained by his side. they didn't need words to comfort him; their presence was enough.

serafine, usually devoid of loyalty or empathy, began to speak softly, "it's alright... you ain't alone in this."

nico nodded in agreement, his voice gentle and caring. "yeah, we've got your back... you can let it out."

mordecai's shoulders trembled, and he finally found his voice, a hoarse whisper of pain and fear. "i...i can't...i can't control it."

serafine's hand moved to his cheek, her touch comforting. "you don't have to. just breathe with us."

nico joined in, his voice steady and reassuring. "inhale, exhale, mordecai. nice and slow."

and so, in the dimly lit and forgotten building on the outskirts of the city, they stayed together. nico and serafine, normally the jokers, became pillars of support and understanding.

as the minutes stretched into hours, mordecai's panic attack began to subside. his breathing steadied, and the crushing weight on his chest lifted, if only slightly. he wiped away tears with the back of his hand, ashamed of his own vulnerability.

serafine offered a small, understanding smile. "you did good."

nico nodded, his lopsided grin returning. "yeah, you're tougher than you think."

and as they left the old building behind, the weight of mordecai's memories was still heavy on his shoulders. for now, there was nothing he could do. but that's okay.

#LACKADAISY #lackadaisy cats #the marigold trio #mordecai heller #mordecai lackadaisy #serafine savoy #lackadaisy serafine #nico savoy #nico lackadaisy #nicodeme savoy #nicodeme lackadaisy #ask #angst #hurt/comfort #panic attack

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xlocor-keychain · 5 months

Text

This is a list of some of my AU with some i forget to make content for. It's just shity summarys of it.

The Dead End: creepypasta/SCP/FNAF AU.

Foregoten God(name subject to change for a better one): Soul Eater/Mairimashita Iruma-kun/Monsterverse AU with some character from Sonic, Eddsworld, FNAF, Teletubbies, and probably Fire Force.

Cosmique Game (not official name yet): Homestuck/Fortuna AU.

Ghost Fun(not official name yet): Yokai-watch/lapin crétins invasion/Grizzy & the lemmings AU.

Pokémon Lost Story(not official name yet): a simple Pokémon AU with 3 regions base arond religion, time, and space, and an island who will be the central point of the story.

Amusing Zoo(not official name yet): an AU base arond Cartoon mostly creepypasta version as well as Cartoon Cat, Bendy and the ink machine(the first game only), Poppy Playtime, Hello Puppet and a zoo (the center of the story). I'm thinking of adding Garden of Banban and Welcome Home too.

Slendytubbies the secret(not official name yet): slendytubbies AU centred arond my OC.

The Dead See All(name subject to change for a better one): Lego AU that include many Lego universe. Ship JestroXClay. MK X Red Son.

Deltadrone: Murder Drone/Deltarune AU it's just the Deltarune story but with the cast as drone.

FireForcetale: Undertale/FireForce AU it's just the Undertale story but in the FireForce universe.

Sonic boom.exe(name subject to change for a better one): what the name sujest but since the story feel less like a .exe and more of an adventure/everyday life with horror and mystery éléments, i need to change is name. Ship SonicXShadow, SilverXBlaze.

Espace Nova(name subject to change for a better one): Keroro AU mostly focuse on Kururu and Giroro as well as some OCs. Ship KururuXGiroro.

One world two side(not official name yet): AU about one world split in two, one side have How to train your dragon/mon chevalier et moi/Myghty magisword and the other side have SouthPark/Wander over yonder, they have some OK KO Let's be hero éléments and character.

Old and new World(not official name yet): sumary, AU base around SM64 skit but something happen so every survivor migrate to a new world and the old one is taking peaple from other world to not die.

Mechanical undead(not official name yet): Murder Drone/SMG4 AU with some creepypasta characters, mostly the one's from games and TVs and website.

And this is a list of original concept (with shity summarys).

(no name yet): Dude that get sacrifice by is parent for a god who they dont know is already dead so dude become a vengeful spirit possesing a statue and kill peaple, after a while dude enconter immortal little girl with posseded plush and after a while form a brother/sister relationship. Lot of supernatural things.

Book of Sueñmei (name in progress): collection of storys about multiple peaple mostly some isekai one, only 3 have fixed story, the water lord who is a dude that got isekai as a monster seaslug and way way later become know as a guardian of the ocean. Then we have a mouse that get isekai into a prince with the power to become a monster mouse but only the royal mage know about it. And there is a monster sloth living in some sort of reserve that wish to fly. The other are still in développement.

(No name yet): originaly was just a Mairimashita Iruma-kun AU centered about my OCs but i decide to make it is own thing. Shity summarys, 2 demon found a spaceship with animals from all over the univers and when opening one of the cage a human girl began shouting at them with a gun, shenanigan happen and they live together in an abandoned mansion wich have a portal to the human world in the basement. They also encouter space police, ghost, divinity's and monster that definitely should stay as fairytales. It's mostly a not serious story but with serious moment.

If you want to know more about them just ask, and if you have name suggestions please dont be scare to share it.

(why is there a tag limite!!)

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caught-in-a-landslide · 1 year

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So I wanted to upload another thing onto this account, which is my take on The Mystery Gang from Scooby Doo.

Mainly because since I hate the Velma show and no I’m not bothering to watch it because it’s bad as I see anything from it.

So here’s the info on this redesigned mystery gang:

Fred Jones.

-Popular fresh boy in school.

-Son of the mayor, usually doesn’t talk about it due to his father being wrapped up in his own work.

-He might be popular, but he’s willing to help others in any situation, and handle bullies.

-Has a collection of mystery/detective films he watched as a kid, his favourite is the Sherlock Holmes ones.

-Has a crush on Daphne, not because of how she looks, but of who she is.

-In fact, he wants to confess to her, but he’s usually had other girls rejecting him and he’s scared she might do the same.

-His father is unaware he’s part of a mystery solver gang, but he wouldn’t allow it if he knew since he wants his son to be a lawyer.

Velma Dinkly.

-Smart grade-A student in science and biology class, not very popular though.

-Met Fred when she was getting bullied, she watched his mystery/detective films and both came up with the idea of being mystery solvers themselves.

-Was childhood friends with Daphne, but both lost touch as they were focusing on other things as they were growing up, but they still get along.

-She and Fred met Shaggy and Scooby at a abandoned train station, the same place where they encountered their first ghost.

-She doesn’t make a big deal out of her intelligence, and usually helps people with their grade problems.

Daphne Blake.

-Popular girl in school, and famous model (Which is done by her parents) there is.

-Takes martial arts classes in order to defend herself, as she hates the whole ‘damsel in distress’ memo.

-Actually lost touch with Velma as she went to New York to do modelling for 2 years, she wasn’t quite happy to move from home for that.

-Her family started off poor, but now they are living in luxury with her mom being a actress and her dad being a doctor, they do care about what Daphne wants but are unaware she hates modelling and wants to do artistic work.

-She doesn’t seem to like those popular girls that would bully people for no reason, but sadly she’s friends with those popular girls, and is unable to leave them as they would threaten her.

-Joined the gang 3 weeks after their first encounter with ghosts.

Shaggy Rogers.

-Not very popular in school, but luckily isn’t bullied.

-He’s in Animal Care class to learn about animals as his mom works at a vet, which inspired him to help animals.

-Shaggy is very good at communicating with animals, people nickname him DollitteJr.

-He’s scared of almost anything, this is from a traumatic event he had when he was 9.

-He almost eats anything, in fact, he doesn’t realise he accidentally eats dog food sometimes.

-Met Scooby Doo when he was a stray in the subway, he gave the name to the dog when he got the idea from the cheap dog food name: Scooby Snacks.

-Him and Fred are childhood friends, they’ve always been even whilst growing up, which explains why he never got bullied.

-Him and Velma live in the normal neighbourhood, but they never spoke to each other much as Shaggy was not very sociable with girls.

Scooby Doo.

-He was actually experimented on for purposes of illegal research, this was at the time when he was a pup.

-He managed to escape but ended up as a stray.

-Shaggy took him in and considered him a friend.

-Scooby hasn’t been able to trust humans much as his trauma from humans is that reason. (He only seems to trust Shaggy)

-The experiments gave him the ability to speak and understand humans, but doesn’t do it much as it could cause suspicion.

-He wears a scarf because he doesn’t like collars as he was forced to wear electric shock ones during the experiments, he seems to like it.

-The gang are aware he can speak, but promise to not tell anyone.

I might be uploading more, because half of the artwork I’ve got is from my D.A account and I want to keep this account alive.

#scooby doo #the velma show sucks #redesign #scooby doo redesign #my art #not much of hnk or jjba here #but I wanna draw more then just that #but I might redesign my jjba ocs

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fawrishfish · 10 months

Note

Can we know a little more about your Paranormal Inc.? I watch the teaser every time I come into your blog and I am very intrigued

Sure! It’s this little project I’ve been developing. I want it to be an animated show on YouTube about two friends who come across something strange and spooky-something they weren’t meant to see, and they go on little ghost adventures, collecting clues along the way that eventually reveal a dark secret the town they are living in(Gittata Town) was trying to hide.

-I’m going to voice the main character in the show, Sam, a girl who’s super into murder mysteries and paranormal activity

-Her best friend is Greggory, a tall nerd boy who likes comic books and superheroes, and him and Sam live in a roof shack

There’s three main ghosts that appear in the show, and somehow all of their stories are connected

Mr. Handman, Ms. Iris, and the dreadful KYLE SMILES

This is still just an idea, I want to get a tablet with clip studio paint so I could animate this to my full potential, rather than just doing everything on Flip a Clip, which limits my abilities

I’ve recently began writing the first episode script, tho! I’ve abandoned this for a while because I lost a lot of concept work and writing for it :(

Here’s all I could scavenge from then

(All of this art is really old 😬)

#digital aritst #ghosts and ghouls yikes scary

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moved05 · 3 months

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🧚‍♀️ elf.maid (Discord)

🧚‍♀️ 6842-5633-7797 (Switch).

🧚‍♀️ 764659094 (Genshin UID)

hi hi, my name is myskia (theorised to mean 'bat' in Old Swedish - it is found on a runestone, other meanings may also include 'to darken', 'twilight', 'gloom' and 'dusk').

interests; majorly interested in all things to do thats whimsical, fantasy + gothic themes, supernatural creatures + morbid themes etc, all fascinate me + 99% of things i like includes one of those things 😭

👾 gaming - skyrim, stardew valley, hogwarts legacy, elden ring, bloodborne, witcher, wizard 101, alice:madness returns, legend of zelda twilight princess, angels of death, the witch's house, dragon age inquisition, Ib, Outlast, Sims 3 Supernatural + more

👻 films/tv series/books - beetlejuice (musical), the dark crystal: age of resistance, what we do in the shadows, v for vendetta, dune, matrix, hannibal tv series, hannibal movies (silence of the lambs, red dragon etc), avatar, house of the dragon, the witcher, twilight, the crow, the munsters tv series, the addams family, monster high, disney films, LOTR, interview w/ the vampire, the vvitch, the lost boys, queen of the damned, van helsing, scooby doo, the craft, hocus pocus, crimson peak, sleepy hollow, 99% of tim burton films (nightmare before christmas, frankenweenie, coraline, corpse bride, alice in wonderland, sweeney todd, beetlejuice, Edward scissorhands etc), casper the friendly ghost, my sister the vampire book series, room on the broom, + lots more 😭 basically anything whimsical, witchy and spooky i usually love 😭

🎃 anime + manga - soul eater, death note, shiki, elfen lied, madoka magica, sailor moon, the cat returns, castlevania, berserk (+ manga, tw warning tho), witch hat atelier, siuil (girl from the other side) + more, i am getting back into anime + manga so pls send me recommendations 😭

🦇 music - zheani, moonspell, nightwish, björk, kate bush, cher, emilie autumn, chelsea wolfe, rob zombie, nina hagen, yeule, switchblade symphony, the birthday massacre, cocateau twins + so many more,this list is gonna get too long 😭 i'll have my spotify in this post somewhere, check #🦷 mp3 / #🧚‍♀️ mp3 if you want to find more i haven't listed here

🐈‍⬛ fave creatures + other - zebra jumping spider, hercules beetle, luna moths, death hawk moths, black witch moth, dragons!!, black cats, worms, leeches, white plume moth, ghost slug (first found in my country! 😍😭 tho i think the theory is they accidentally got here), mermaid purses, moon jellyfish, poison frog + glass frog, silver foxes, wolves, magpie (my fave bird, why do they sound like a machine gun but look so pretty waa 😭),

🌙 misc - the colours purple/black/lavender blue/dark green, fascinated with the culture surrounding death, the ocean + space, collecting teeth, weird medieval art (like fighting snails, tooth 'wyrms' or skeletons tending to gardens 😭), welsh mythology (love celtic mythology in general though), abandoned and/or haunted places, the smell of soil after rain (petrichor), elves and fairy faith, crystals, amethyst (birthstone), astrology (i like both western + vedic!), thelema, norse mythology, sword / knife collecting, foraging, the poison path (usage of poisonous plants in witchcraft/ritual), carnivorous plants, anything lore-wise about hedge riding (using trance to "fly" or astral project), dreams / dream symbolism / dream dictionaries etc, divination (tarot especially).

#intro #SoundCloud

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thediverismylove · 1 year

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tier ranking every book i read in 2022

god tier: the world cannot give, vladimir, somebody's daughter, the lost daughter, transcendent kingdom, win me something, the namesake, hamnet, fun home, sea of tranquility, woman eating, book lovers, the margot affair, easy beauty, either/or, sirens and muses, how to write an autobiographical novel, the sentence, ghosts, goodbye vitamin, the long answer, house of hunger, these precious days, everything i know about love

great tier: comfort me with apples, the awakening, their eyes were watching god, yerba buena, the school for good mothers, sorrow and bliss, red at the bone, weather girl, the maid, lost and found, the vixen, you never get it back, milk blood heat, the book of cold cases, our wives under the sea, reckless girls, seeing ghosts, siren queen, whereabouts, never let me go, let's not do that again, stiff, the return, mother in the dark, the right to sex, the borrower, want, enter the aardvark, the marriage portrait, why be happy when you could be normal, a children's bible, less is lost, i'm glad my mom died, happy and you know it, greywaren, agatha of little neon, flight, delilah green doesn't care, post-traumatic, our missing hearts, the book of goose, boy parts

good tier: people like her, the other black girl, five tuesdays in winter, in my dreams i hold a knife, dial a for aunties, the heidi chronicles, a novel obsession, problems, the woman warrior, the painted drum, last resort, things we lost in the fire, mother/land, cleanness, a mind spread out on the ground, the upstairs house, the carrying, the need, a room with a view, finlay donovan knocks em dead, dress code, true biz, one italian summer, when the reckoning comes, never saw me coming, the third hotel, kim jiyoung born 1982, all you can ever know, the hacienda, woman of light, the english teacher, this thing between us, the house on mango street, the days of abandonment, they're going to love you, the seas

ok tier: something new under the sun, disability visibility, real queer america, caleb's crossing, bread givers, they never learn, drive your plow over the bones of the dead, intimacies, little rabbit, all girls, flying solo, you think it i'll say it, animal, cult classic, white girls, fake like me, writing down the bones, the performance, the house across the lake, grand union, acts of desperation

bad tier: the view was exhausting, hope leslie, black water sister, mona, bringing down the duke, adele, acts of service, the life of the mind, catch the rabbit, first love, three rooms, all this could be different

shit tier: the love hypothesis, dead collections

#a pretty good reading year!

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rainbowxocs · 11 months

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why do you even need to know half of this…

Name: Kaguya Tsukino (かぐや月の) only my friends can call me by “Kaguya”..

Other Names: “Kami” (神) God is also acceptable for you English readers.

Special Titles: Kami of the Moonlight.

Nicknames: Moon Bunny.

Chronological Age: 432.

Age: 26.

Pronouns: He/Him (In English.)

I Pronoun: Soregashi (某) (An archaic neutral pronoun, gives off extreme neutrality, as if the person doesn’t want you to know who they are.)

Sexuality: Demisexual, Demiromantic, Gay.

Gender: Trans Guy.

Species: Kami. obviously.

Disorders: Anxiety, Autism, Major Depressive Disorder, Bulima, Contamination OCD, AVPD, Compulsive Lying, CPTSD.

Religion: Atheist. you shouldn’t trust gods.

Job: Owner of the Maid/Cat Cafe.

Lives in: Okutama, Japan, 2024.

Languages: Japanese + Most Languages.

Height: 6ft

Ethnicity: Lunarian, Japanese.

Accent: Completely Monotone.

Animal Form: Barn Owl, Rabbit. hoot. or whatever.

Powers: Was Born Powerless. Can however do human magic, can hear other peoples thoughts, and has divination. it’s awful.. I feel cursed sometimes..

Alignment: Neutral.

Text Color: Blue.

Main Hobbies: Entomology, Reading, Resin Art, Bug Pinning, Origami, Bonsai, Crochet, DND, Trinket Collecting, Shogi.

I only eat specific things.. I’m incredibly picky..

Favorite Drink: Sakura Tea, Pu’er Tea, L’Original Marie Antoinette Tea, Strawberry Shortcake Tea.

Favorite Fruit: Peaches.

Favorite Snacks: Apples and Peanut Butter, Ants on a Log, Broccoli, Honey.

Favorite Foods: Chicken Noodle Soup, Animal Sushi, Rice and Nori.

Favorite Candy: Gummy Bears, KitKats, Lollipops, Matcha Pocky, Jelly Beans, 3D Gummies.

Favorite Desserts: Jello, Mooncakes, Astronaut Icecream, Gourmet Marshmallows.

Weapon: Kunai.

Favorite Flower: Orchids

Scent: Orchids.

Awareness: VERY Aware. (Effect: Negative.)

Birthday: January 1st 1592 (Leo, Dragon, AB.)

Theme:

Playlist:

Fun Facts: i dislike this whole biography thing.

Special Interests: Entomology, Fairytales, Paintings.

Stims: Tends to stim with fabric or his clothing. But also has a pair of dice he stims with.

Comfort Objects: His collection of rabbit plushies, his jacket, His dice, His sailor moon collection, His Ear Defenders.

Stimboard: LINK

Moodboard: LINK

Fashionboard: LINK

Family: Tsukuyomi, Nayotake (Parents) they abandoned me. So.. not really family..

Friends: Uru (BFF), Damian.

Romance: None.

Enemies:

Are. I despise that woman.

Hwan. I think that Hwan has the IQ of a rock. And that’s an insult to rocks.

Pets:

Rolo (ロロ) (Pug) my baby.

also my babies.

Hichew (ハイチュウ)(Emperor Scorpion)

Whopper (うぉっぺっ) (Blue Tarantula)

Skittle (スキットルズ) (Rainbow Stag Beetle)

Taiki (タイキ) (Giant African Snail)

Twizzler (ツウィズラーズ)(Giant Millipede)

Hershey (ハーシー)(Giant Centipede)

Konpieto (こんぴえと) (Leaf Insect)

Candy Cane (キャンディケイン) (Stick Insect)

Poifull (ぽいふーー)(European Mantis)

Pocky (ポッキー)(Ghost Mantis)

Ramune (ラムネ)(Orchid Mantis)

The Honey Hive (Bees)

The Hissing Bandits (Hissing Cockroaches)

The Earth Kingdom (Honey Ants)

The Fire Nation (Fire Ants)

The Water Tribe (Yellow Crazy Ants)

The Air Nomads (Black Carpenter Ants)

Brief Personality: Kaguya is a very monotone person. He has a tendency to push people away from him by making himself as boring and unapproachable as possible. But in reality he’s just really awkward. He is the type of person who much rather stay at home with a bunch of books than go outside and hang out with his friends.

Brief Backstory: Kaguya was born without a name, somewhere on the moon. His parents kicked him off the moon and he plummeted down to earth. He was found by a local orphanage due to his crying.

He never really knew why his parents abandoned him.. But he did know that humans weren’t much better.. His peers would bully him for most of his life due to him not being like them.

He lost himself in fairytales, reading every book he could. He thought if he lost himself in the stories and his role as a god, everything would be alright.

However, now Kaguya is very standoffish. Not even giving people the privilege of speaking his real name. Instead wanting to be referred too as “Kami” or “God”.. He is a bit of an odd ball..

Many people have hurt Kaguya over the years, causing him to retreat further and further into his shell. However lately a few cracks have been shown.

#Spotify #Kami #oc reference #rp #roleplay #rp reference #oc #ocs #original character #my art #kaguya

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pcttrailsidereader · 9 months

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The Ghosts of Kentucky Camp

"Deep in the heart of the Santa Rita Mountains lies a ghost town called Kentucky Camp. It was once a bustling mining town, abandoned after a freak accident that killed the lead mining engineer. Some say the town is now haunted by the ghosts of the lead engineer and miners who lost their lives. The locals say that on quiet nights you might hear the sound of pickaxes and shovels coming from the hills, but be warned, if you hear the sound of a lone miner's whistle, you certainly are not alone."

Dave Baugher, a regular contributor to this website, started his multi-year thru-hike of the Arizona Trail this year. Dave estimated that 30 percent of those on the Arizona Trail had either left the PCT or altered plans to walk the PCT because of the epic snowpack on the PCT. This story is based upon a stop early in his Arizona Trail walk.

Ever see a ghost fly? No? How about a man about to become a ghost as he "flew" off the third story of a newly constructed hotel in Tucson, AZ? No? Neither have I. However, my buddy Ed and I spent some time in the old gold mining town of Kentucky Camp. Let me tell you about the "Ghosts of Kentucky Camp."

Gold. The yellow metal has driven men mad, sent conquistadores over the oceans, and even led to war between nations. However, much of the gold on Earth is thought to have been incorporated into the planet since its very beginning, as orbiting debris formed the planet's mantle early in Earth's creation.

About 55 million years ago, during earth movement and mountain building, hot solutions bearing gold and other minerals worked their way into the faults and fissures of folded and compressed rock. Later, these mineral-laden veins eroded along with the host rock, freeing the gold. Long before any people arrived on the scene, water and gravity began the gold-milling process better than any human invention carrying and concentrating small particles of gold along the bottoms of streams and gulches. These are placer deposits: water-laid sand and gravels that contain eroded and redeposited particles of valuable minerals.

Gold was discovered in the Santa Rita Mountains in 1874. In the following years, up to 500 miners worked in what became known as the Greaterville Mining District. Early on, the miners had to haul their pay dirt to the few running streams in the area or haul bladders of water to their claims on the backs of pack animals. At first, this laborious effort was worthwhile, but by 1886 the easy pickings played out, and most miners moved on.

In 1902, a charismatic California mining engineer, James Stetson, had an idea to solve the water problem. He believed collecting seasonal runoff into a nearby reservoir would be possible, thus creating a permanent water source and making placer mining again profitable.

Stetson sold his idea to investors and formed the Santa Rita Water & Mining Company. Kentucky Camp in the Santa Rita Mountains was the Company's headquarters. It was an attempt to get the land to give up its gold with placer mining. That process, successful in California, uses water cannons to break up desert hillsides so gold can be washed out and recovered in sluices, a sort of industrial-sized gold panning. Stetson believed the California process would work in Southern Arizona. Californian George McAneny put up $150,000 to get things started in 1902 and was made president of the new Company, with Stetson as the manager.

Stetson designed a dam near three streams with over eight miles of pipe and ditches to get the water to the mining site at Kentucky Gulch. A company office building, a house for Stetson, a barn, and two other buildings were constructed. The 40 to 100 workers lived in a nearby tent camp, and the operation opened in 1904.

Unfortunately, it all washed out. Only about $3,000 was repaid to McAneny, so a meeting was called in Tucson on May 22, 1905. McAneny and several other stockholders were to meet at lawyer Samuel Kingan's office. However, around 3 o'clock the afternoon before, a maid working on the 2nd floor directly below Mr. Stetson's room heard a thud on the windowsill of the room she was cleaning. She went to investigate. She leaned out her window and saw Mr. Stetson's dead body on the concrete sidewalk below. Stetson mysteriously fell, jumped, or was thrown from a third-story window of the Santa Rita Hotel and died. The truth of his death was never determined.

McAneny's health and finances fell apart after that day. He got divorced and claimed that ghosts were ever after him. He died in 1909. The Santa Rita Water & Mining Company ended, and the land was used by ranchers. Kentucky Camp was abandoned in the mid-1960s, and the U.S. Forest Service took it over in 1989.

Renters around the ranch sometimes report ghostly noises, and a ghost-hunters group has spent time documenting the strange happenings in the cabins. But seasoned visitors say it is mice in the place and skunks making a winter den under the house near the propane heater that account for the mysterious night sounds. A resident jaguar living in Santa Ritas may also visit the area.

On the hot afternoon of Friday, March 31, 2023, Ed and I dropped our packs on the covered porch of Mr. Stetson's house. There was water for us to fill our bottles, electricity to charge our electronics, and displays describing the past history of Kentucky Camp. I'll be honest, we did not stay too long. There were still miles of trail ahead before we could call it a day. However, we enjoyed the shade, and several other visitors joined us on the deck to cool off from the sun.

Ghosts? We did not see or hear anything that afternoon. Later, camped by a small lake, Ed and I talked about the place, and we both thought it might be exciting to return to in the future. Calling it a night, we dove into our tents as the cold chilly wind ran down from the Santa Rita Mountains high above our camp. Tired, I did hear things in the evening twilight. Shovels and pickaxes? No. Whistles? You could say that the cooing of doves in waning light or the soft chirps of quail in the brush might resemble a whistle as I drifted off to sleep thinking about the ghosts of Kentucky Camp.

#Arizona Trail #Kentucky Camp #gold mining #ghosts

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cyberbeez · 11 months

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Kinda forgot I had rain world ocs drawn tbh.

In order: Slugcat nicknamed The Coil, their lil pup (yet unnamed) and their easily excitable iterator travel buddy who managed to relatively safely modify themselves to get out of the can as a humble puppet, A Hundred Chains.

Very long rant about them under the cut, because i made up a whole timeline for AHC's story specifically. I will make one for others in the future, too. Again, it is VERY long, you don't have to put yourself thru that.

- - -

Coil were originally a local group's shared "project" to help/nudge their buddy AHC to reconnect to the local network for they believe he has either them all blocked or his systems broken down completely, latter for the most part. The slugcat carries the pearl with instructions(and a few pleas) to reestablish the links and an elaborate form of protective "gear", hence its name. Its harness consists of:

! miniature energy coil akin to those in transform arrays of iterator cans that can be actively ised if the predators of the wastes try to feast on them, similar to centipedes. Exuded electric charge stuns most animals and lets Coil escape their maws. It is intricately intergrated into scugs bodily functions and thus can be recharged with the use of a few food pips. Attempt to craft an electric spear discharges the energy coil completely for the rest of the cycle, however.

! very basic radio transponder with an antennae to further reestablish contact with AHC prior to them reconnecting to the network (more or less to directly yell at him for ghosting the group prior to complete radio silence.)

The harness cannot be taken off by scug themselves due to being heavily intergrated into their body(but boy did it try at first. quite a painful experience.) After a successful mission it will be carefully picked apart under supervision, though.

- - -

The slugpup is a little ball of mischief they've picked up during their trip to collect the data pearl from another iterator to further deliver it to AHC. The little guy got lost in the wastes and survived by following the travelling group of scavengers, picking pearls, food and other little things for them on the way. Coil's contact with the group was met with hostility at first, but slugpup's recognition of Coil as their kin and being friendly towards them gradually lowered the anger way down. A few presents for scavs here and there from the scug itself also helped a lot, which in turn granted it quite a safe passage on the way to their goal. After reaching the facility grounds of an iterator, they leave the scav group together, staying on good terms.

- - -

A Hundred Chains is somewhat of a complicated figure amongst his local iterator group. Second oldest of them all, he has observed his creators for quite some time before their inevitable mass ascension, eventually growing tired of their whims and ways, especially with his city inhabitants and their arrogance. They don't really despise the ancients per se, but are very aware that their own structural design, purpose and place in the society make it nigh impossible to evolve in any significant direction from what they already are, and they are resentful of the notion. Being stuck in a can and not being able to change that sucks, don't you know? His name is an obvious reflection of his inability to break constraints placed on him by the creators and also reflection of his city inhabitants being chained in place atop of the iterator structure with no viable option to leave due to deadly downpours below. Them being stuck above ground did not water(lmao) their arrogance down, though, and they do not speak too fondly of their iterator, even if he's the one who keeps them alive at this point.

The ascension of said creators only worsened the way in which they were viewed, for Chains is very angry at them for being practically abandoned with no viable means to get repairs, upgrades for the structure and, well, direct interactions. He often expresses his frustration to the local group(tbh all of them do), not afraid of badmouthing the ancients, which in turn strains his relationships with one of the neighboring iterators who seems way more fond of their "parents", even if not to an extent of open hostility. Others mediate the conflict as best as they can while the communications are still working and, for a while, the group's relationships and bonds are stable and mostly unimpeded.

Chains, however, is not very motivated to tirelessly work on the Great Problem, since there's no one to work on it *for* anymore. He doesn't express that part directly to others, but they kind of guess anyway and even share the sentiment, at least partly - aside from conflict mentioned above, AHC's group is pretty tight-knit with their beliefs and ways of thinking, frequently helping each other out with their research and common issues. There is enough understanding among them all that their position in the world is very, very unfair and only worsens with time, and they try their hardest to stay close to each other. "longevity in numbers" is kind of their motto.

Instead of working on the Problem, AHC begin experimenting with modifications to their own structural integrity instead, doing what little they can without direct administrative access to repair the faulty modules and increase efficiency for important parts of themselves. This, understandably, takes an annoyingly long amount of cycles to perform and leaves them considerably frustrated, although they don't forget to share their findings and successful attempts with the local group out of kindness and concern, too, which helps them all to ease the evergrowing load of disrepair and structural decay.

The Sliver of Straw situation and the tragedy of [canon] iterator group, received through the word of radio communications and increasing use of messenger animals leave the local group at quite the loss of words and with minds troubled. They grow wary of others and the global divide of iterator beliefs as a whole, choosing to stay out of trouble and keeping their thoughts to their group only, as well as ceasing most of their structural experimentations out of fear of contracting some form of rot and/or possibly harming their neighbors in the process, keeping only the most vital and needed altercations going, like communication arrays. [If they were to pick a side in the debates, though, they would be closer to anti-sliverists, if only for their wish to find a more *safe* solution that would not destroy them instantly leaving no time to pass the findings. They wanted to make sure everything is in check and won't go haywire. Just death does not seem like a solution to them.]

Chains' resentment of iterator design choices from ancients only grows during that time, and he believes that the world is righfully theirs [iterators as a whole] for the taking, since the ancients left them all to rot and decay, stuck in place with no ability to ascend and/or escape their imprisonment. AHC sees it as some form of revenge and one-up move on long-departed creators and starts trying to bypass the administrative restrictions placed on him and ingrained in his gene sequences, little by little, piece by piece, even if he is very aware of possible consequences. They also start to hide their attempts to do so from the group since the rest are being (somewhat rightfully) paranoid about the whole debacle, thus making them a bit of a recluse when it comes to research. Others, for the most part, don't notice the shift at first, for they are dealing with their own crisis of beliefs at that time. When they finally do, however, AHC straight out refuses to acknowledge the change and tries to brush it off as being busy with work on the Great Problem. Knowing him and his earlier frustrations with even the idea of the Task and the ancients as a whole, they, of course, don't buy it, but don't pry too much either, for which he is thankful.

Quite a lot of time passes before AHC manages to safely overwrite at least some parts of their genome, giving themselves more means to operate and maintain the structure and its parts. That much time to pry and ponder at their situation brings them an idea of a mobile vessel, and their own puppet in the mainframe seems to be an obvious pick, for it already looks like something you can possibly use for movement and doesn't need to be built up from scratch. Chains is sure he can do it with enough efforts and thinks others in his group should try as well, because, again, the world is theirs for the taking! They are basically gods amongst others in this world, and wouldn't it be fitting if they could walk its premises?

He drops hints of his idea here and there in the interactions with his local group, expecting them to pick it up. They do, eventually, but they are quite frankly scared of the possibility. To detach themselves from their frame almost seems a fate worse than rot and structural failure, for you are willingly "stepping down from your godhood, choosing to descend to the level of simple beasts below the clouds". They are not sure it'd be good for their survival, for the world below is extremely hostile due to rains and resource scarcity, and they express their huge concerns clearly to Chains. He is adamant in his ambition to do so, though, and while he mostly stops talking about it, he slowly flashes out the design for the mobile puppet in secrecy and gets to work.

His idea of a mobile unit basically boils down to a "mini-can", aka the set of miniature iterator systems that he can carry on with him, producing enough power for the puppet to stay charged. Just like the Coil's harness, it is intricately integrated into the puppet's carcass and allows easy water consumption and energy production. He finds that you don't really need help of mass rarefraction cells on such a small scale compared to that of full iterator structure, but a small supply of void fluid being constantly filtrated and recycled becomes a very useful source of basic energy production due to its chemical properties. Mindful of void fluid usage and its decay of practically anything it touches, he tests the vessel for it meticulously in the experimental wing, once damaging his systems when it erupts from the faulty carcass. Void eats its way down through quite a few chambers before flowing out to the ground, and it slows AHC's modifications down considerably.

Water input/output during the attempts to repair the structural integrity is thusly increased even further than needed for the experiments alone and is noticed by the local group. He is almost honest about it when they inevitably pry, concerned, leaving out only the real reason for the void fluid eruption. Together they brainstorm a few [explicitly safe] solutions for it over the next dosen of cycles, which Chains is thankful for, using them to patch up the holes as best as possible, for the void keeps eating away at him in some places. Continuous maintenance, however, helps to negate further decay for now, thankfully, and they keep the experiments for the mobile vessel going.

After a long while they finally manage to finish the void fluid recycler, effective enough to power the puppet for a long while. They gradually design the tiny transform arrays and the rest of the needed structures (notably a small memory conflux chamber that can host a few neurons with an ability to bring even more with you in general, letting them float around!) which takes way less time than the recycler, to be honest. However, the modules are still in the experimental wing of the can and need to be moved to the main chamber. AHC decides to mess with their overseers a little, modifying their forms, too, to be able to carry around some weight, and gradually broadens some connections between the parts of his sctructure for ease. That means a bigger entrance to the puppet chamber, too, the process for creating which is very intricate and needs a lot of concentration to do safely, so they stay inresponsive to messages and conversations outside, instead focusing on this task alone, redirecting the connections of the chamber and modifying overseers.

This is, of course, making others very worried. Chains have already been damaged by a void fluid eruption to the groups knowledge and now they are downright unresponsive, even if their messages are reaching them. They worry he might be breaking down even further, and when their continuous attempts to get a response out of him prove to be futile, they decide to combine their efforts in creating a messenger to send to him. Due to their gradual structural decay even with all their efforts at little repairs here and there, they split the process between each other for energy conservation. One is picking the most effective creature to send on the mission, ultimately picking a slugcat from one of the wild packs that managed to find a way to their facility grounds, eventually leading them to their chamber and giving it the mark of communication; one is creating the harness (ultimately following AHC's path in that regard. not that they know it yet); one is brainstorming all the viable repair solutions and instructions, inscribing them all on a big enough pearl(that would be one h u g e pdf file if it was a file. she is very meticulous in her approach.)

While all this goes down, Chains ultimately succeedes in creating a future mobile unit, safely moving all the parts to the chamber and integrating them into the puppet. The repurposed overseers find their new use, too, for he modifies namy of them further and builds in many instructions on how to operate the can at a plausible level. They also assign one of them to his puppet directly, so it follows them everywhere they go. All seems good.

He hesitates to detach the umbilical cord and a hand for a good while, though, the words of worry and caution of his fellow iterators ingrained in his memory. They were right, ultimately: detaching himself from the rest of the structure IS scary. Losing most of your memory and processing power in the process IS terrifying, even if he fills three pearls with valuable research data to take with him! He doesn't have a place for a communication array in his puppet and additional modules and will only be able to reach out to others when he gets to the nearest existing one outside!

But he got so far on the sheer power of will and defiance of ancients. He might as well take the dip.

And that he does, detaching the puppet and leaving the can through the access shaft for the first time in his existence.

It's beautiful, really. Chains gets out, and he laughs, laughs so hard and for so long that his lungs would have hurt if they ever existed. Their ultimate project is successful, and they are free to explore this world as they choose. The sight of their neighbours' cans is breathtaking when viewed directly, not just with help of the overseers.

AHC knows it will be difficult to survive outside, and they can never be ready for what awaits ahead, but this makes them giddy with excitement. Their first stop is the city atop of their previous "forever home".

- - -

Coil eventually reaches AHC's can and finds the puppet chamber empty, the whole structure operated fully by local overseers. The overseer from one of Chains neighbors that was brought along translates the feed clear as day, leaving the group horrified at their find. Through it they urge the slugcat to search for the puppet.

Coil finds Chains way later, below the iterator's can in one of the industrial sector's shelters, recharging from a long journey across their own facility(it is a random chance to find him that varies from cycle to cycle, like with slugpups). A long-awaited communication between him and the local group ensues, and after a very teary and long talk with them AHC thanks Coil for the opportunity, and they sleep away the rain till the next cycle. They travel together since then, for iterator is quite fascinated with Coil's harness, and their slugpup is absolutely charming. They will ultimately embark on a journey to Chain's closest neighbor as the end of this campaign, so that he can share his knowledge and convince others to go the same path as him.

- - -

Jeez, that took me half a day. I really wanted to write the whole story out because i love my little guys to bits and kinda proud of what I've managed to make up for them. Thank you, whoever is still reading. Means a lot. <з

#meocs #medoodle #rain world #rain world oc #yeah it sure does rain my world #<- personal tag yeah yeah

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365runesoftheamalgamations · 2 years

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The Not Yet Abandoned Works pt.5

Photo by Isaac Mehegan on Unsplash

welcome to the pages of our Creation

Introducing the Vagabond Child,

Initial Concept:

It had been a while since the Incident. Not many people came by anymore, no one daring to venture into the wilderness that had taken over their utopia. Those who did manage to get out of the beds and away from their homes were Scavengers, ghosts in search of the glory of the Old Days. ~ dystopian, survival, speculative fiction, low fantasy ~ third person, present tense ~ environmental devastation, hopeless future, strangers to guardian/charge, hope in the hopeless, found family

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World:

Kliomela, the World of the Broken Moon Ravaged by environmental disaster and Humanity's destruction, Kliomela is a dying World full of the devastated Lands and people. Most await the end of the Worlds, when finality comes, and others seeming scavenge, looking for the memories of the times before the World was destroyed. Trogas, the Scavenger's Fields The graveyard of what was once Humanity's domain, Trogas is the personification of their destruction. Holding most of the Lands hostage under the trash piles of forsaken History, it is known as the Scavenger's Fields. Many people dig through the ruins, hoping to find something to take with them to the grave.

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Magicks:

The Knowledge of the Observers: Created by the Three themselves and blessed by Time, the Observers hold the Knowledge of the Worlds within their mind. Having the ability to note every whisper of Beings and Beast, they hold Knowledge without spoken thought. The Tenderness of the Herbalists: Blessed by the Ancients and given the Nature, Herbalists hold the abilities to manipulate the Lands. Holding a Connection to Nature that most cannot replicate, they give themselves to the plants and animals and bodies and Worlds.

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Societies:

The Scavengers: Those who hold nothing but quiet resignation in the ending of their World, the Scavengers are those who simply wander through the fields, collecting relics and surviving until they expire. The Lost: Nothing more than breathing corpses, the Lost are those who were destroyed along with the World. Either abandoning the World for the fantasies of their minds, or lost when the World ended, the Lost hold nothing in reality. The Ignorant: Ignoring the Realities of the World and pretending the past is now, the Ignorant show the delusional foolish endeavors of those who hold nothing but their memories and the forsaken Histories.

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Characters:

The Man: World worn and forfeiting the hope of better days and Salvation, the Man is a Scavenger who simply wanders through the days, awaiting the end that will come either from his body or the World. The Child: Found and rescued by The Man and given new meaning as a Scavenger, the Child is silent and observing. More than intelligent and with something greater than the need or the desire to survive, she holds a light inside her that not even the dying World would be able to extinguish.

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Status:

Currently scene drafting and figuring out how the story will be told. Everything is leaning towards it being shorter scenes and little drabbles, more in a timeline order but being able to stand alone by themselves.

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Snippet:

Small tears, barely there, start to stream down her face, puddling near her ears as her breathing slowly begins to hitch. He hands grip the blanket tighter and even her body seems to start to curl in. Nightmares, or memories, neither too good by the looks of it. He waits for a minute, before he moves. He wipes away the tears, moves a gentle hand across her face before settling it on her head and patting it gently. A few more hiccups escape before the child calms, before her body relaxes, before the only sounds is a soft rustling as he runs a hand over her hair. He stops only after her face smooths out completely, only after the last of the nightmares leave and her tears finally recede. He sighs, gives her one more look before laying down himself, his back touching the hard mattress and his eyes catching the night sky. The stars don’t shine anymore, they simply glow, small dots of a past long abandoned. The moon, hovering close and breaking apart, glows a dull hue, no longer able to shine like it once did. But he doesn’t mind, not when the child moves, unconscious desire pulling her closer to him where she settles, small hands gripping him instead of the blankets. He sleeps, huddles close to the child, waits for a day that may not come.

#tumblr writers #amwriting #writeblr introduction #wips intro #works in progress #The Vagabond Child #dystopian writing #survival #writing snippets #vagabond.child

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redmoonrising-rp · 1 year

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Windclan Lore & Roles

Once a clan living in a far-off-territory among three others, Windclan has lost everything. It is still in recent memory, the clan's unlawful exile into the unforgiving wilderness at the claws of Shadowclan's most evil leader. Fleeing persecution, the remnants of what was once a proud, devout clan found themselves unknowingly following the pawsteps of a banished Skyclan from ages prior. All they had for many a moon was the code, and each other.

Eventually, their weary paws came to find a home. The wide-spread grassland was much like the land they'd left, but with no gorge, no moonstone, no gorse camp. To their surprise, however, it was not with no neighbouring clans. Their arrival was as much of a shock to Skyclan as it was to Windclan. The leaf-bare was hard, and the cats of the gorge had little to share but stories, and the home of Skyclan's ancestors. But Skyclan was strange, and did not adapt easily to a new, war-weary clan living just beyond their forest. There were many a scuffle at the time, and more than one life lost over foolish hot-headedness before the clans learned to co-exist.

Windclan's elders still remember that time, and grew up on stories of the senseless bloodshed that sent them fleeing their home. Many believe Starclan abandoned them that day, while others believe their ancestors have blessed them to have survived it. The clan is small, wary and superstitious, prone to being secretive and standoffish and not tolerating the presence of strangers within the borders they've fought so hard to claim for themselves.

Their camp lies underground, in a set of smooth stone caves beneath the heather-covered earth. These caves claimed a life before they were fully mapped, and it's said the ghost of a warrior named Palefur resides within the dark, hunting kits who wander too deep. Some say no one who dies down here can find the sky, and thus every vigil is held under the sky for a full day and night.

The smooth-stone tunnels lead all over their territory, leading Windclan to resurrect the roles of its warriors as either Tunnelers or Moor-runners. The former traverse the dark caves, collecting moss and pale fish and ensuring no tunnels have collapsed or been inhabited by other animals. They are clever, cautious, and strong. The latter hunt above ground, employing speed and quick reactions to catch the birds and hares of the grassland and keep the clan fed.

Windclan's Healer serves as the clan's doctor and communication with Starclan; this is rarely direct, and instead through omens or signs. Healers do not have kits, as it's believed their souls communicate clearly with Starclan, and they may accidentally invite a Starclan cat into the body of their unborn kit - or worse, accidentally leave the spirit of their kit behind when they awake. However, Healers are often involved in raising the clan's young, to teach them basic counting and how to read the stars.

Ever since the frightful reign of the Shadowclan leader that drove them from their home, Windclan's leader must wait for a sign from Starclan that they are the right fit. The clan has only had two leaders since their exile, both of which were clearly favoured by Starclan. With their current leader ill, the clan is waiting eagerly for a sign that the current deputy may be fit or unfit for the role.

Apprentices must train in both the tunnels and the grasslands for the first two moons of their apprenticeship, to ensure they can survive if they must ever rely on one or the other. They must also travel to the Whispering Cave at least once before they can become a warrior. Healer Apprentices are chosen at birth, through signs conveyed by Starclan, though they only have occasional lessons throughout kithood until their actual apprenticeship.

#windclan #warrior cats #warriors rp #warrior cats rp #roleplay group

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docm77tits · 14 days

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guide to makin cats from my fanclans (and also the wolf one)

ok some history. in my story there are 4 clans but only 3 of them are the descendants of the canon clans. the trip to the territory they're in now hurt the clans a lot and both for their own safety and because there wasn't enough territory, riverclan and windclan decided to become one.

because of a lot of stuff with the number of clans, starclan becomes more prominent (with more ghosts just visiting and regular cats dreaming about it) for a while until badgerclan and wolftribe move in, where it becomes a hivemind. i will write about that another time because it affects a lot of stuff but its too much to write here. this is a guide for living cats

actual guide under cut. smiles

dustclan

they're the descendants of shadowclan, but don't really act like it. dustclan cats live and hunt in a cave system in a mountain, and can't hunt in the forest despite living very close to it because of their proximity to wolftribe camp. there's not much life on the mountain so they're forced to hunt in the cave, which still doesn't have much food so they're pretty much always starving. rabies outbreaks are also common...

dustclan cats are smaller and thinner so they can fit in the little crevices in the cave. they're also generally lighter colors, though darker colored cats (such as the medicine cat) are not allowed very far into the cave, since they would be harder to find.

the leader, olmstar, is a lean white cat. she was born blind in one eye, but lost the other to a cave in. she wears a moonstone in her empty socket, giving her a very strong connection to starclan.

dustclan brings gems and cave animals to the collective knowledge of all the clans, often naming their cats after them. exmples are diamondpaw, beetlestone, amberheart and batpaw.

woodclan

woodclan cats are the descendants of thunderclan, but they act more like shadowclan cats do in canon. this is because they've been hardened by sharing their territory with wolftribe and constantly live in fear. they're very strict and drill their rules into their kits from birth. they're very good climbers because they live IN the trees. kits are often raised in abandoned burrows below the camp to make sure they don't fall out of trees.

woodclan cats are very bulky, with especially large paws. they tend to be browns, blacks and even greens, and decoate their pelts and nests with flowers.

the leader is a large brown tabby named daisystar. he acts angry and strict, but he's actually a very paranoid cat. he spends a lot of time outside the clan negotiating with wolftribe.

woodclan adds the names of plants and especially flowers to the name pool, like chivekit, fernpelt, mapleblossom, tansydust and fruitpaw.

shellclan

the collective descendants of riverclan and windclan, shellclan lives in a beached shipwreck and hunt in the pacific ocean. they're very medically advanced, as one of their medicine cats discovered amputations and prosthetics.

shellclan cats are also big, with very thick fur to keep themselves warm in the cold water. they often don't bother to wash the salt out of their fur, so it's very matted. many shellclan cats are missing their tails, either docked preventatively or lost in accidents in underwater shipwrecks and caves.

the leader, rowstar, is a big grey tabby, and is very friendly with the other leaders. scratchdash got the idea of prosthetics from the twoleg concept of pirates, and rowstar, after losing her leg in a cave, volunteered to test it. he succeeded, and now she has a jagged stone replacing one of her legs.

shellclan mostly brings ocean and beach creatures to the collective knowledge, with names like heronpaw, blueswan, kelpfur and angelpaw

badgerclan

long before the other clans had a policy of letting in outsiders, badgerclan was formed from kittypets and loners who weren't allowed to join the clans. they live in an abandoned twoleg farm, taking care of the animals the twolegs left: jimmy the horse, and three chickens; honeypie, lemoncake and cookiecream. they share their territory with stanley, a loner who lives in the other barn, as well as his "apprentices", maisy and percy.

badgerclan cats come in all shapes and sizes as they most regularly let in outsiders, and they're very healthy from the steady stream of eggs from the chickens and rats from the abandoned silo.

quailstar, a white and yellow cat, is also very friendly. they're much too young for the role, as the previous leader, foxtail, had been forced to retire shortly after appointing them as deputy, thinking he would still be leader for much longer.

all clans have a rule of letting in outsiders: you're welcome to join as long as you get rid of your old name to show your loyalty. badger clan has an exception to it; if you beat the deputy in battle, you're allowed to keep your old name as a badge of honor. that, along with the collective knowledge of more twoleg things, gives badgerclan cats a lot of variety in their names: emmet, pagepaw, charlie, snowbale and rocket

wolftribe

wolftribe is a comparitively small pack of wolves that made its camp in the part of woodclan territory that got ravaged by a forest fire, though they hunt in the rest of the forest.

they have a president (re-elected every two years), a second in command, and a doctor. there isn't a word for a warrior.

wolves value intelligence, so their naming system reflects that. you're name as a wolf is the most of something you've counted at a time. some items are more impressive than others. for example, the president's name, 15 rabbits, signals that they're more powerful than another wolf, 32 pebbles.

they have a peace treaty with woodclan (don't bother us and we'll leave enough food for you) and send a wolf to every gathering to renew it, and also in an attempt to socialize with the rest of the clans. despite being very different to the clans socially, they generally want to be friends.

#digtothevoices #wci #sorry i just like talking about my cats heehee

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