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tgcg · 27 days

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tell your loved ones

-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 12:01 --

TG: hey im on the john

JOHN: hey, dave is taking a dump.

TG: taking a shit just so were clear

JADE: jeez!!!!!!! even when im not online i have to hear about it

TG: i know you care so youre first to know

JOHN: i'm just giving you a heads up for the bajillion messages you will definitely have about this when you get home.

EB: god, thank you. that is awesome. dave fans everywhere are gonna go NUTS for this truth nugget.

EB: hey, i am at the store with jade!

TG: tell her the news

EB: i did as soon as you first pinged me, don't worry.

TG: hell yeah see you just fucking get it

JADE: well tell him i say congrats!

EB: she says congrats.

EB: also that you left your "yeah! woo!" machine at her place.

EB: and that you are gross and smell like a dog took a dump on a fart even when you aren't crapping during our conversations.

TG: goddamn

EB: jk that last bit was me heheh. but she nodded!

EB: so anyways, a yeah woo machine?

EB: what the hell even IS that?

JADE: its more or less a machine that yeahs and woos

TG: its basically a machine that yeahs and woos

EB: ok, yeah, that is pretty much exactly what jade said too. apparently this is supposed to be obvious.

JADE: its pretty self explanatory!

TG: pretty self explanatory stuff

TG: anyways im gonna tell karkat this time i think im ready for that

EB: oh shit (LOL), that's a pretty big deal, right? good luck dude.

-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] at 12:03 --

TG: ok karkat can i be unbelievably candid with you is dj crabapple ready for this

TG: this is a really big deal for me but like no pressure

CG: SHIT, IS EVERYTHING OK?

CG: DO I NEED TO COME OVER THERE.

TG: no no its good i just really need to confess something

CG: WHATEVER IT IS, TELL ME. I'M HERE.

TG: alright

TG: deep breath strider

TG: im dropping mad logs like bars in the ablution block vantas

TG: shit is on fire

TG: downright heretical like a shat outta hell

TG: and since im feeling penitent i figure our pesterlogs are pretty much akin to a confessional booth right

CG:

-- tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 12:04 --

TT: Hey Dave.

TT: Are you, by any chance, taking a shit right now?

TG: damn word spreads fast on the information superhighway

TT: Yes, I have had the news forwarded to me via this bountiful virtual dimension of knowledge and culture we call the World Wide Web by a fellow enthusiast, one ectoBiologist.

TT: Frankly I'm heartbroken you didn't come to me about it first.

TT: Please, divulge to your loving sister the nature of your bowel movements, in exhaustive detail. Highlights in a notarized list, an overall ranking grade of your experience, whether you would recommend it to your friends, et cetera. These would be among my most pertinent avenues of inquiry.

TG: you were next on the mailing list rose im already on it

TG: boutta weave a verbal tapestry no holds barred just for you about my rambunctious foray down in brown town

TG: stay tubed

TT: Thank god. I don't know what I would do if I couldn't peruse your commodal follies like the morning gazette.

TG: dont act like this has educational value rose

TG: we all know my daily bullshit has got a laugh track

TG: like damn what kind of gazettes are you getting

TT: The best kind, Dave. Only the best kind.

TG: thanks for the vote of confidence

TG: wait gimme a sec karkat pinged

TT: Of course. I understand it's quite a big deal for you.

CG: OK.

CG: SINCE THIS APPARENTLY SKIRTS THE FRESHEST BUDS OF OUR BRO-DOM'S BURGEONING FROND NUB, I *ALSO* HAVE SOMETHING IMPORTANT TO SHARE.

CG: I HOPE YOUR REFLECTIVE ABLUTION VAULT IS STOCKED WITH FUCKING RUMBLESPHERE TRANQUILIZERS, BECAUSE THIS EXCHANGE IS ABOUT TO GET SHITHIVE MAGGOTS.

CG: LISTEN CAREFULLY.

TG: whats up

CG: I AM ALSO ON THE LOAD GAPER RIGHT NOW.

TG: oh shiiit

CG: DON'T UNCLENCH YOUR EXPLOSIVE FUCKING SEED FLAP JUST YET, BECAUSE THERE'S *MORE*!

CG: I AM *ALSO* TAKING A CRAP.

TG: oh shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit

CG: OH SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT

#dave strider #karkat vantas #davekat #homestuck #john egbert #rose lalonde #jade harley #june egbert #j egbert #comix #tell your loved ones #idm if this isnt rly well written i just did it 2 make myself giggle

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scarletwidowsbaby · 4 months

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Little Pet

Summary: Something nefarious this way comes. Will you run before it's too late?

Pairings: Vampire!Nat x Hunter!Fem!Reader x Heretic!Wanda

Genre: Dark and slightly smutty but no sexy times.

Warnings: Sexual suggestions, blood, fangs, lingerie, dark magic. Minors dni, this is not for you.

A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts for a while but I gave it a bit of a touch-up. Hope you enjoy!

It was only dusk and you were already regretting taking the job.

You had been hired by the local innkeeper to investigate the mystery around the abandoned manor on the backside of the forest’s mountain. Many adventurers had come in search of the manor, yet none had returned.

The fact that he was paying you three thousand coin per adventurer that you found was… possibly also the deciding factor.

As you stepped onto the surprisingly well-kept lawn of the place, your hunter instincts went off. Something nefarious was here, lurking in the shadows, watching and waiting. You pulled out your sword as you entered through the giant double oak doors.

Immediately, your blade began to burn hotter than a thousand suns, forcing you to drop it. Thankfully, you had your fireproof gloves on from your latest encounter with a feral dragon, and weren’t burnt.

“So sorry, dear.” A voice echoed in the grand pitch-black entryway, high ceiling above decorated with paintings akin to the skills of the Sistine Chapel.

Not even God could save you now.

“Come closer, dear. Let me see you in the light.”

You noticed a speck of moonlight from a small window to the high right, almost casting a spotlight on the tiles in front of you. You cautiously stepped forward into it, unsure why, yet the voice’s chuckle was… unnerving.

“Why, look at you. A female hunter? Shall we call you Huntress?”

Your gaze steeled - there were more of them - before you felt a sharpness on your neck, a blur passing behind you.

“Oh my. How… sweet.”

You put your hand on your neck, your glove in the light showing a thin line of your blood.

“Vampires.” You muttered beneath your breath.

“Oh, not just vampires.” A new voice said, a clear glee entwined in her thick accent. “I do wish you would figure it out already.”

Suddenly, your body was lifted by an invisible force. You couldn’t move, save your eyes, and you were whisked through the house before you came to a throne room. You were practically thrown to the ground in front of it, a pair of sleek boots in your gaze.

“It’s so wonderful to see another human try their luck here, isn’t it love?” The person, woman, in front of you chuckled darkly.

“Let her lift her head, my dear. I want to see the life in this one’s eyes before I take it away.”

The invisible force acting on your body released your head and you immediately lifted it, coming up to see two women. The one on the throne held a classic lop-sided smirk, her ginger-red hair flowing down her shoulders in simple waves. The other, standing beside the throne, was very clearly something else, with her brown locks tied back in neat braids done by a professional.

“A… here… tic…” You strained the devious hybrid species’ name through your lips.

“There we go. She figured it out!” She snarkily laughed, her eyes glowing as crimson as the bloodstains on her sleeves.

“You are clearly a very skilled huntress. What is your name, sugarcube?” The seated vampire asked, her eyes set on yours.

“Y/N.” Your name was pulled from your lungs by the heretic.

“My my… No wonder Wanda liked the feeling from your sword… you are known for such giant feats of destruction in our world, Y/N the Huntress.”

You guessed that Wanda was the heretic, given the grin that came onto her face. “Now now, love, I think you should introduce yourself. Give this huntress a good fright, yes?”

You looked back at the throned woman, noticing a familiarity to a few wanted posters on the borders of the Darklands. “No…”

“Yes…” She grinned, nodding her head as her sharp nails came to grip your cheek. “I am Natasha Romanova, Countess of the Mstiteli Clan. And you, dear huntress… are now mine.”

She pulled you up by your neck and made a neat slit across your skin, sinking her fangs into your vein whilst Wanda ripped your armour from your body with her magic. Wanda grabbed your wrist and pulled up your sleeve, making a neat slit perpendicular to your arm and delved into it.

Tingling sensations spread from both areas, sending shivers down your spine. It was fast, and ruthless, as they didn’t stop even to let you breathe. You were trapped in the cycle of stuttered breaths, euphoria, and the effects of blood loss.

When you rose, your body felt exactly how it was - weak, drained of energy, of blood. You felt your ankle had been chained, the cold metal stinging on your skin though it contrasted vastly with the softness of the bed beneath you.

“Oh, now that’s a hangover headache for the ages.” You winced, lifting your hand to your head to simultaneously relieve the ache and brush a few strands out of your face.

“Is that what humans feel like when they’re blood is consumed? Intoxicated?” You jerked your head up - bad idea - to see Countess Natasha lying next to you in nothing but a black nightrobe and dark red lingerie. She gingerly brushed her fingers over your neck, which had small gauze patches on either side.

“You.” You growled before instinctively reaching for your sword, only to feel another hand there.

“You were right to melt her armour and sword, my love - she is such a feisty one.” Wanda giggled, her own nightrobe and lingerie adorned on her body.

Wanda flicked some magic to your hands and they obeyed, pulling up until the wisps of red tied your wrists to the bed frame. “Though you can think of hurting us, now you can’t.” She grinned deviously.

“Now, sugarcube… what to do with you…” Natasha teased before she carefully began to peel off your gauze patches.

“Hey! That hurts!” You huffed before Wanda ripped the one near her fangs off with a sharp tug.

“OW!”

They both chuckled and cooed at you like you were some soft malleable thing.

“Calm down, detka. You’re such an impatient little thing.” Natasha rolled her eyes.

“I’m not your ‘baby’.” You huffed, rolling your eyes before she quickly gripped your jaw.

“Do that again and I’ll take away the pleasure from being fed on.” She whispered darkly into your ear, pressing her thumb and finger into your neck to pinch your airways.

You paused, relinquishing, and she pulled away. “Good. Now, for ground rules: This coven is a respected coven. You are the only human we’ve ever taken in that won’t be turned, no matter how sexy you’d be as a vampire.”

“You see, baby girl… We own you now.” Wanda summarised, putting a small bit of ointment on your healing bite wounds.

“Nobody owns me.” You retorted.

“That ends today. Well, I should say tonight.” Natasha chuckled, tracing the outline of your face.

“Yes, it does. So, we will explain the hierarchy to you: Natasha is Countess, so she will often be busy with coven affairs and our coven’s safety. Then, it’s me, considering I am her wife-”

“Wife?!” You exclaimed before Natasha’s finger pushed down on your sternum, her supernatural strength keeping you down in the bed.

“Yes, my adoring, lovely, brilliant chef of a Sokovian wife. Now listen and be respectful.” The countess warned you.

“As I was saying, I am second in the hierarchy. Then it is James, Steve, Sam and Scott - they are our ‘muscle’, even though some of them look like tanks and others not so much. After them is virtually everyone who is not an unturned child. Those we have accepted and who will be turned upon legal age.”

You listened carefully before you noticed an item in Wanda’s hand - a necklace.

“This is something you will wear at all times unless in the shower. It is imbued with Natasha and mine’s scents and blood, should you ever need to be healed.” She said, clasping it over your neck and not afraid to let her hands wander a bit down.

You turned your head away from hers, feeling some sort of spell over your body like the blood within the red stone was charged.

“You feel it, don’t you?” Natasha smirked from above you, her hair tickling your neck as it hung down. “The power of us, the Mstiteli Clan leaders, though only a single drop of blood each. The power of vampires. You could have never defeated us, Y/N. Not even with your enchanted sword.”

“I did enjoy breaking those enchantments.” Wanda added.

You closed your eyes, trying to take everything in since you were still a bit dazed. “Nobody told me that you were Mstiteli. If I had known that-”

“You wouldn’t have come. We know. But we loved chatting to that innkeeper a few nights ago. He was just divine.” Natasha licked her lips and you understood the double entendre.

“A few little drops of amber ash doesn’t hurt a fella. And without you to return and claim your prizes, we’ll keep getting willing meals right at our doorstep.” Wanda smirked.

“Such delicious, tasty meals… Speaking of, I want to have some more…”

You looked at the two warily. They stopped. What?

Natasha snickered darkly, cupping your cheek. “Oh, you really are as sweet as they come. No, what we did was a dominance show. Now, we go gently.”

Gently wasn’t the right word for her to use as she practically smashed her lips against yours, delving her tongue in to test if even your saliva was as sweet as your blood. Your hands, still chained above your head, were no match for Wanda’s power as she sank to your stomach, kissing and sucking at the exposed skin.

“So divine…” She murmured, a flick of her magic warping your reality.

“Hey! Bring my clothes back!” You yelled, mostly from embarrassment as you now wore the same nightrobe adorned on them but in crimson red… and without lingerie.

“Patience, dear. We want our filling first. We will always come before you.” Natasha said, the words burning in your mind as she locked eyes with you.

Then, she leaned in and reopened the wound with such precision of her fang she could be a surgeon. She sucked at your neck whilst keeping a firm hold of your body, her arm snaking underneath the nightrobe and around your back.

“Come up here, Wanda. You were the one who wanted us to make our marks clear and present.” She chided her wife, who you hadn’t even noticed feeding on your wrist.

“But she’s so beautiful… I want to sink my fangs into every inch of her, litter her body with my bite.” Wanda said and you could tell she was the far more possessive one.

“Neck first.” Natasha said firmly.

You felt like a blood bag. Nothing more than for something they can feed on and toy with, squish around in their hands to bring out every bit of life source.

Then, you felt that tingle again. That rush of endorphins coursing through your veins, making you whimper beneath their touch.

“Hush. Fuck, you’re delicious.” Wanda moaned against your neck, digging her fangs deeper.

You quietened down like a good little pet and let them have their fill once more, your jostles of movement stopping quickly as fatigue set in. They were both grinning as they pulled away from your neck, fangs and lips smeared with your blood.

“Wanda, go get some hot towels.” Natasha muttered, the heretic speeding away to bring a tower of hot towels.

She leaned into your ear, kissing it gently. “Now hush, little pet. Time for you to rest some more…”

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x wanda maximoff #black widow x you #black widow x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff

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ellalalala · 6 months

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A semi-long rant about Dottore's implied self-hatred, loneliness and inner struggles

I am, like many others, endlessly fascinated by Dottore, which means that I've been sucking the game dry for any Dottore content I can find; I've watched the dialogue between him and Nahida numerous times, read the "Zandik's Legacy" notes over and over and even the description of the "Wise Doctor's Pinion" from the Pale Flame artifact set. So much has already been said about him, but I'd like to offer my own two cents about an aspect of his character that is often ignored in favor of his villainy: Dottore's inner struggles.

I'll recount everything that I've gathered and tell you of my interpretation of Dottore's character.

To start, one thing that I never see people mention is a line from Nahida's retelling of the Tatarasuna incident. In the very beginning of the cutscene, we see a monster covered in light blue fur (obviously Dottore) who Nahida describes in a very interesting way. She says:

"Once in a while, the monster would take off its fox fur at night, and lament to itself as it gazed at its reflection in the water: "I am a monstrosity, yet they are too foolish to see it. I pity them."

Of course, it's easy to say that this is just a fairy tale Nahida created to preserve Scaramouche's memories and that this could've been made up - which is only half true! We must remember that Nahida has seen Dottore's consciousness. She already knew of the arguments between his Segments when Dottore confronted her to take the Electro and Dendro gnoses. Why do I bring this specific line up, though?

Because this line outright tells us that: 1) Dottore spent sleepless nights in Tatarasuna reflecting on himself; 2) That he, perhaps sincerely, pitied the people of Tatarasuna for not seeing past his facade.

I also think that the use of the word 'lament' is very interesting. To lament means to express sorrow and regret for something. I would think that this implies Dottore feeling remorseful for not just who he was, but what he would do to Tatarasuna. To provide further proof, I think it is important to look at the expression on the furry monster's face (as Nahida portrays it) when it laments to itself:

(What a cute little thing.)

It looks a bit... upset, doesn't it? Like it is mad at itself as it gazes into the water. This expression, combined with his thoughts and the use of the word 'lament' gives us a clear sign that many ignored: Dottore isn't as shallow of a villain as we thought.

Later in the cutscene, Nahida says:

"But the monster soon found solace when another came to live among the foxes who was not their kin: a kitten, carved from the wood of a white tree, who had been abandoned by the humans."

And in that moment, we see a wide-eyed little monster gazing at the kitten:

(Feels really silly to use this as an example but you've gotta trust the process)

Here, Dottore found someone like himself. An outcast, a creature that did not quite fit in with the ordinary humans - someone who could understand Dottore's loneliness and ostracization. After getting chased out of his hometown for his blasphemous ideas, after getting expelled from the Akademiya and possibly exiled to Aaru Village for his heretical views - Dottore had finally found someone to whom he could say: "See? They will never accept us. It is you and I against them, for they will never understand us."

What person wouldn't seek companionship, after all?

But things didn't turn out the way Dottore expected them to. Unlike Dottore, Scaramouche didn't need to hide his true identity in order to be accepted by the people of Tatarasuna. Thus, the following happened:

"Furious at this happy resolution, the monster lit a fire on the mountain. The terrified animals panicked as the fire spread..."

... and we know the rest. What matters is this: Dottore was angry and jealous of Scaramouche. Exiled from his hometown, rejected by his peers, insulted and looked down upon just for wanting to destroy the imbalance between Man and God - and along comes a puppet, a creation of the Raiden Shogun, who receives acceptance and guidance from the people of Tatarasuna. Not just that, but the only creature who could share Dottore's loneliness is whisked away from him, proving once again that Dottore will never know what it means to have a true companion.

Thus he tricked Scaramouche into believing that Niwa had betrayed them, had him join the Fatui and later used him as the blueprint for the creation of his Segments. Dottore basically ruined Scaramouche's life out of bitter jealousy.

That should be it about Tatarasuna for now. What I'd like to focus on next is the conversation between Dottore and Nahida in the 3.2 Archon Quest.

There are a few lines that interest me, so I'll go over them one by one.

Dottore uses a lot of big words to sound like he's saying something profound when in reality he's saying nothing at all (a nice callback to his Commedia Dell'arte counterpart), but there is one thing that both he and Nahida place great emphasis on: the fact that Dottore, smart as he is, cannot make peace with himself.

First to say it is Dottore. After asking Nahida for her opinion on his Segments, he says:

"Indeed. It's difficult for humans... to make peace with themselves, not to mention oneself from a different period."

The line still feels out of place. It sounds as if he is musing to himself.

Again, we get a line about his Segments, after Nahida asked him to erase them:

"You were observing me, and that's how you know I've long grown tired of their doubts and endless arguments."

I think it's safe to assume that the arguing is a metaphor for his struggle of self-acceptance. It seems every Segment has something to say to the others, but more on that later.

Nahida uses Dottore's own words against him:

"Like you said, it's difficult to make peace with yourself. Being as smart as you are, have you managed to do that?"

It's important to note that Dottore doesn't answer that question, but even without that, it's obvious to us, the players - of course Dottore hasn't managed to do that.

Whenever Nahida questions the relationship between his Segments, Dottore easily changes the subject. For example:

"Is the relationship between all the versions of you really that bad?"

"I don't think there's any need to dwell on that. The surplus versions of me can be exchanged for a Gnosis. Do you think anyone can offer themselves at a higher price?"

His Segments all argue constantly. When considered that they are replicas of Dottore at different stages of his life, this takes on an entirely new meaning - beyond his facade, Dottore is a man who can barely make out who he is.

Consider this also: in "A Winter Night's Lazzo", Columbina tells him, "You're looking very young today, Doctor."

To which Dottore replies, "You know very well that I do not take that as a compliment."

A piece of dialogue that had been brushed off by many, myself included - until I realized what this might imply. Dottore finds Columbina's comment insulting because he hates who he is. He hates the younger versions of himself because they represent a Dottore who didn't have the knowledge he has at this current stage of his life. They weren't as smart, as knowledgeable. But that's not really the full extent of it, of course.

Dottore was never fully accepted by anyone, this we have established. In the Akademiya, the students called him a 'madman', a 'monster' (as said in the Wise Doctor's Pinion). When we meet him in the 3.1 Archon Quest, he is referred to as 'The Outcast'. He is always being alienated, but could we assume that he just accepted this rejection and decided to embrace the titles people had thrown at him? This is just... very bold speculation, of course. It is impossible to deny that Dottore didn't always naturally stand out due to his heretical views, but I think it's worth considering that he could have just chosen to be the monster people thought of him as. After all, in the confrontation between him and Niwa, Dottore tells Niwa to think of him as a monster and a demon (for a reason that was... meant to be comforting? Not very important right now).

Consider also how different all the Segments sounded when they found out that they were being erased. All of the voices, along with their manner of speech, varied greatly; I interpreted this as proof of the many masks Dottore has worn over the course of his life. Dottore abandoned whatever humanity he had and decided to embrace the mask of a monster, constantly reinventing himself because he isn't secure in his identity - perhaps he doesn't have one at all. He is a scholar, a Harbinger, a researcher - but without those titles, what is left? What is he left with when he sheds those facades? The constant dodging of Nahida's questions about his Segments, the arguments and the worries of said Segments, the introspection in the cutscene about the Tatarasuna incident - indeed, Dottore is a man filled with self-hatred. A lonely outcast who has never known the comfort of kinship. A monster who swallowed his loneliness and dedicated his life to research.

That should be it, I suppose. My brain is fried and if I remember anything that I might have missed, I'll add that info later.

I want to mention one thing: this doesn't mean Dottore is a misunderstood good guy - doesn't take a genius to know that that is not true. Dottore has no regard for human life (which is ironic, considering how he believes humans have great potential and he wants them to be equal with the Gods). He has hurt so many and I'm sure he will continue to do so. He is evil, but it should be noted that he was once just an ordinary human, too. There must be an explanation for why he is the way he is. It's easy to paint him as just a monster because damn he's good at what he does; but I like to think that there is a layer to him that we just haven't fully seen yet. I'm excited to find out more about him when Snezhnaya gets released in like 2 years... ha. If you've read this far, thank you a lot! Curious to know what you guys think. I love Dottore

#il dottore #dottore #lore speculation #genshin impact #zandik #i love dottore!

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inkeyjay · 8 months

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🫀 Eucharist of the Ravenous 🫀

It started out as a bellyache, guts rumbling after two days of barely eating. An unfinished visage, featureless, fixing the blurry sockets it had for eyes into his soul.

The humble priest dropped his brush onto the cold floor of the chapel and stumbled backwards. The walls, towards the ceiling, all full of still fresh perfect faces framed by golden halos, that he had been carefully painting non stop for days. Faces of dead saints and prophets, long gone, commissioned by the high church as a display of power and opulence in an age of religious and political crisis. And this last saint, the one that still had some loose and tired brushtrokes for it's face. There was something about it that made the priest flinch out of his creative trance. He swore the paint moved, vibrated with anticipation at the touch of the brush.

He laid tired in the center of the chapel, exposed to a hundred pair of eyes that almost felt judgemental, knowing of the priest's internal thoughts. "Why am i doing this" "Why do i have to over exert myself with work to survive while i use pure gold to embellish... You. This" "Why"

And the faces remained still and silent.

"Why all this for long gone martyrs that had the fortune to die for their for their beliefs, or to let their God speak through their lips, bestow miracles through their fingers"

"Why this for a God that let them die at the heretical hands of the non believers. That leaves hundreds if not thousands of people to die of the pestilence outside this golden, rotten, WALLS"

The bottle of turpentine exploded and its contents dripped down the wall, dragging hours of work with them, dissolving like acid false flesh and gold leaf alike. And then blood, through the priest's hand, holding the neck of the bottle. He panicked and kneeled towards the wall, trying to undo the mistake with cloth, only to make a bloody mess. Red running through the gold, ichor like.

The priest cried holding his hand, a deep wound running through his palm, burning because of the chemicals. But the pain was not the cause of his tears.

"A sign" "I just need a sign"

But the faces remained still and silent.

The priest got up, slowly, and turned around towards the door. Why be here then. Why remain hungry, at the mercy of a dying church that kept their riches safe in mausoleums and layers of paint upon gold leaf upon stone, while its believers died in the streets famished and sick. The priest saw it clear now. If God did ever exist, it was long gone, uncaring for its creation. He might as well die outside, with his people. It would be like inviting the sickness into his chest but at least his last breaths wouldn't taste of incense. His steps echoed through the chamber, determined, reaching for the doors.

But the faces opened their lips. And with a cacophony of voices, each one vibrating with a torrent of beating wings, It spoke. No.

It sang.

Super happy to finally be able to show you this illustration i made for Tome of Pacts, a zine about warlocks, patrons and their pacts! There's a leftover sale going on right now! This is Pantheon, a shapeshifting entity that impersonates long absent gods and feeds on the faith of their followers, always hungry for more. But it's not for me to tell you.

! First of all, credits to @/gothhoblin, the writer of our team, for helping shape out this Patron "...and it spoke with a cacophony of voices, each one vibrating with a torrent of beating wings, a thousand or more." Is a marvelous line of her creation.

Tome of pacts has 11 more patrons and 24 warlocks for your enjoyment, all beautifully depicted by teams of artists and writers. Im super proud to have been able to participate in this project 💛

This short story is about an original character i created after the patron, just as an appetizer, pun intended. You get it right??

Hungry for a copy?

#dnd #tome of pacts #great old one #illustration #dungeons and dragons #magic the gathering #eldritch #patron #warlock #fantasy #dark fantasy #church

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0v3rcast · 11 months

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Gnaw (interlude one: electro)

"It's been such a long time since we've had a little chat, my maker." Electro says, having at some point gone from 'taking your hand and awkwardly not letting go' to 'holding your hand as firmly as possible without hurting you'. "Longer still since I've felt your touch. Apologies if this makes you uncomfortable, I just really missed you."

You ask what it is that makes them presume you are their maker.

"Ah. Right. You kinda locked those memories away, didn't you? You decided to have a nice little vacation in some lame low-future setting. Let's just say for the sake of entertaining your delusions that you're hypothetically our creator."

You ask why they're just now coming into contact with you instead of earlier. Why they didn't prevent your deaths, if you're hypothetically their 'creator'.

"Perhaps this will be painful for you to hear, but until now, none of us could physically come to your aid. Myself and the others are the elements of this world, and with that much power comes a certain risk to your body.

Had I come to your aid, you'd have been vaporized by the sheer amount of energy that you could easily wield before."

They give a small, awkward bow, letting go of your hand.

"To be quite clear: I am Electro. First to fall at your command, and the one who sits at your right side. Your... right hand, if you will. Your agent of change on the face of Teyvat... and your executioner."

You ask what exactly led you to need an executioner, even if you hypothetically believe you, of all people, made Teyvat.

They give you an awkward smile as the two of you begin to travel down a small path up from the beach.

"Other creations from other worlds. Heretics, dissenters, and the occasional rebellious project here. They were rarely powerful, so it took me little time to mop them up."

Other worlds? You had them kill people from other realities?

"My maker, you had me erase realities." They grin much more honestly, the symbol replacing their pupils spinning slowly for a moment. "And I thank you for that opportunity. There's just something special about unwinding another existence and watching your less favored creations cease to be."

You're horrified by this, and nearly trip. By your orders, entire universes were erased... but why?

"Usually, they sought to construct an equal to you. Something they could use to harness your power without your guidance. The power-mad, those that saw you as an uncaring divine, those who sought to take your place..." Electro purrs, their incisors less like human teeth and more like fangs. "There was always room at the end of my blade for every single one of your lost little lambs."

You ask if you made them so bloodthirsty. So... cruel. Or if you'd done something to make them like that.

They laugh, moving in front of you to walk backwards and face you.

"Ah, you're such a delight, my maker. No, no, you aren't to blame for what I am. When each of us was 'born', you allowed us each control of who we were. You even gave us little worlds to live a formatory life on.

My world was a simple one, but one that you enjoyed - you based your vacation world on my homeworld, actually, which was super kind of you - and I grew up with a loving, healthy family. A sister and two dads. Nice people, good morals, never really wanting for anything.

It was all I ever knew, then, and it was fucking boring.

I didn't want a long, dull life with responsibilities and a spouse and 2.5 children, or some middle management position I'd wither away my not-quite-century of life tending to.

I gladly indulged myself in the world's pleasures where I could get them. I'm sure you can understand what I mean. And nothing was ever enough. There was just... something I was missing."

For a moment, you say nothing, instead focusing on navigating around a rather annoying hole in the dirt path. They've returned to walking at your side.

You ask what was missing from what already seemed like a very good life.

"Choice. The ability to say 'I am me, fuck the rules, fuck what everyone else thinks.' I fought to see what I wanted to see, to tear down what I hated, to uplift what I loved. Rules meant nothing if they weren't mine. Law meant nothing when someone else made them. The only one who owned me was me... and you."

"Once I died, and you collected my essence for use, I was given my pick of the elements. I suppose that's what happens when you die at barely 30."

You ask what it was that inspired them to be Electro, and not Pyro or Anemo.

"Simple. Lightning doesn't stay in line. It falls, and it's bright enough to leave a mark on a dull world that's just going about the motions. It makes others take notice. It says 'look at me! See what I choose to be!'

How could I be anything else, when instead I could be me without regrets?

Why would I choose to narrow myself to anything else?"

You ask what they think of the Raiden Shogun. They frown, reaching out to pick a berry from a bush and toss it to you. You pop it into your mouth gratefully.

"Ei is a disappointing Archon. Just... following in a corpse's footsteps. Barely living a life. One day she'll get tired of sealing herself up in a dumb little bubble and letting a doll play house with her people.

I can't really complain, though. She chose that, and all I want is my bearers to choose something and to hopefully enjoy it."

You ask who would be an ideal Archon to them. They shrug, kicking a stone into a small stream as you two finish crossing it.

"Honestly? Don't want one anymore. I liked Makoto because she wanted to do something fucking crazy, and was going to raise hell until she made it happen. That really spoke to me, y'know?

But she's gone, and that's fine. Shit happens, and she knew it was a possibility.

I'd rather keep doing what I'm doing and give Visions to whoever I think would be fun to watch."

You two walk in silence for a while, and then you ask just where it is you're heading, now that you've noted the way the cliffs are growing steeper and the vegetation has changed.

"Liyue. S'nice. Wish it wasn't Geo's turf, fuck'em, but if we're lucky you'll be in good hands with their people. About all I can really compliment them on."

You ask if they can stay at your side and hopefully protect you from... zealous worshippers.

They laugh.

"Hahahaha, hahaha, haha, heh, no." They suddenly deadpan, entirely serious, and stop in place. "You'd probably die. It's a terrible idea for me to protect you when you're so... squishy."

You ask for something to defend yourself with, then, if they're going to be unavailable.

They grin.

"Oh, that's easy. I got you."

They grab your wrist, and you hiss in pain as electricity courses up your left arm. There is now an Electro symbol on your inner wrist, your skin there dyed a royal purple.

"That's the sort of master key to Electro. Electro energy will come to you when you call for it, and since you're you it'll shape itself into a form you like."

They lean in to stage-whisper conspiratorially. "My favorite is a lightning bolt, because hitting someone from halfway across the room with a blast of pure 'fuck you' is always a good time, but I've seen some promising animal shapes and even a couple neat weapons."

They notice something in the distance and grimace faintly after a few moments more of walking.

"We're almost to the border between Mondstadt and Liyue. If you see Geo, tell them they still owe me for all the Electro Crystals."

You ask what that means.

Instead of answering, Electro makes a peace sign in your direction and then vanishes in a sudden crackle of static and the smell of ozone, leaving you on a road. You didn't realize you'd actually been walking alongside them all this way in the real world.

You'd thought it was all sort of a daydream. The mark on your inner wrist says otherwise.

At least you've made it this far?

((Taglist:

(Wow. There's so many of you now.

@the-dumber-scaramouche @thatdeadaquarius @ssak-i @imyme20 @fried-lotud @acacla @itz-luna @iruiji @crierofirony @itsredactedlove @sweetsthetik @leafanonsforest @oxyotl @kkazuyass @featuredtofu @resident-cryptid @d4y-dr3am3r @crimson-ashes @red1sg0n3 @the-real-fandom-person @code-roevember @yourlocalsourwolf @rhoswen-drake @minimari415

@reversearrowhead

#genshin sagau #sagau cult au #sagau gnaw #baby's first power #im out of things to add #and the elements are kinda different compared to their bearers #less 'do as i do'#and more 'ooh a mini-me sorta'

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shock · 3 months

Text

"Don't just play—do something!", Jack Abele, 01.21.24.

This is a companion piece to the collage I made about moving into the first place that felt like my home back in '21 (shown below). They have matching frames and are displayed together above our dining table! This second piece is a reflection on how my relationship to "home" has evolved since then, especially after proposing to my now fiancé last month. I'm really proud of it!

Text transcript:

FOR YOUR EYES ONLY

In the cold, thin clouds of interstellar space, written in the precise message of starlight:

What made you so interested in fireflies?

Imagine that they propel the environment into play: they STAND OUT, add color, chaos, curves moving behind and below, inside, outward along feedback loops, perplexing positive panic persuaded to make another form of animal art.

Love is a Many-Splendored Thing, a beautiful structure, flamboyantly scuzzy, sassy, a full bouquet of many wild ideas — a dazzling interplay between lightness and unclarity, trying things out, fancy, whimsical records looped with webs, half-truth surface textures composed of swirls within swirls, a performance of information, scene-setting details with many impressive, more tongue-in-cheek, unforeseeable aspects relatively stable and evolving at the same time.

Distinctly transitional.

The trouble with love is it's hard to describe in simple and consistent words. Beyond the jolting familiarity of self-similar, self-referential tessellating hues, the little comedy-drama fictions... you see openness, possibilities toward change; our very existence together antidote to the dull grind of the paradox that we live every moment in an indifferent universe yet having so much fun with friends, local communities, places, faces, even muddy bog holes.

Music! A Tribe Called Quest, The Beastie Boys, The Breeders, Nick Cave, Nine Inch Nails, Soundgarden, Santana and Crosby, Stills, and Nash, mud-caked at Woodstock, picking up Space Age scrap, cutting collaged paper, playing with magical little lights, heretically evolving in this meaningless, magnificent place fine-tuned just right to allow for life, love, and grunge to exist nevertheless.

Maybe what keeps me here, making art, is how beautiful it is for optimism to become the first expression of hope despite danger amid the disparate depth of our universe created by chaos.

Movement characterizes my "youthful, dynamic" journey, escapes to infinite other places somewhere else, afraid of considering complicated survival long-term, wherein risk is worth the reward. But something about your windy city reminded me what strange, cascading effects the fingers of two hands form together, intersect one another, interfere with fate, interlace like light radiating rays woven, at certain points, into dynamic singularities.

Mutualism is a happy hybrid of symmetry and chaos — a relationship, it's like the entire forest is blinking in sync.

Just as the fun is to make up a great story, the writer in me calls this piece, "Don't just play— do something!"

This time around, living offers a profound pivot from playing a game. Today we confront as animals, we're not far from dogs, domesticated punks at heart, manifold.

I am humbled, exhilarated, afraid yet strangely calm and clear "On Bended Knee"

(The term ground seems inapt.)

...Nor is it possible to describe...

The closest feeling to being the world itself? It is to have loved someone so much that you wanted to spend the rest of your lifetime with them, with each other.

We're writing a book. Adding a stroke of paint and words to illustrate what we became, a bright third dimension that can be seen from space to meet the generations to come, to simulate the uncountable whimsies they could achieve.

The mind already knows before the key touches the lock.

To watch firefly swarms with a mangy mutt.

That must be quite a sight to see.

BECAUSE THEY EXIST

NOWHERE ELSE ON EARTH.

#collage art #my collages #my art #collage poetry

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selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs · 2 months

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Hello hope ur having an amazing day/afternoon/night

So for the "if you weren't alone" how about the Hunting dogs with a GN reader? Take your time and make sure to take care of yourself

If you were not alone

Part III

Characters: Self-Aware! Hunting Dogs

Reader: Adult! GN! Reader

Warning: English is my second language

_______

🐕‍🦺You were tried. Today, you and Hunting Dogs were having one of your traditional camping trips. Thanks to Teruko's and Fukuchi's training, you have become tougher. Still, you were tried and were thankful, when you finally set up a camp.

After dinner, you go to your tents and fall asleep

You were the last one to woke up. A familiar redhead looked inside the tent. Tachihara looked worried.

"[Y/N], you are awake, good... Listen... My dear Hyacinth... You probably should take a look at that..."

You climbed out of the tent and looked around. Your gaze immediately stopped on the familiar Statue of the Seven, standing on an island in the middle of the lake.

You were in Starfell Valley, on a Cider Lake shore.

The rest of the Hunting Dogs were not only up, but already were in their uniforms. A fire was burning and aromas of porridge and tea were coming from a pot and kettle, that were put above the fire.

"[Y/N], does this place look familiar to you?" Teruko passed a bowl with porridge and a cup full of hot tea to you.

You braced yourself. Explanation will take time.

🐕‍🦺 You tried your best to answer questions about Teyvat. About nations and elements. You answered questions about the game. That nothing strange was happening in your game. No insane luck, no new voice lines, no new menus, no new characters (that weren't announced), no reaction to you talking or petting the screen, no strange emails, no gifts. Genshin Impact looked like absolutely normal game.

After the breakfast was done, Hunting Dogs got the most basic information about Teyvat and were as confused as you were about Teyvat being real.

But you can't get answers just staying in one place. After you collect your belongings (with tent, sleeping bags), Hunting Dogs and you start walking. To Mondstadt.

Just to make sure, that you stayed safe, Fukuchi asked you to walk in the middle of the group, while he was walking before you, Tachihara and Teruko were walking on the sides and Jouno and Tetchou were walking behind you.

Your journey has begun.

🐕‍🦺 Mondstadt greet your group with yelling, Knights of Favonius with their weapons out and a mob who wanted blood.

"HERETIC! IMPOSTER WITH A HERD OF SINFUL CULTISTS!" You didn't know, that Kaeya could yell. Or even use 'heretic' negatively. You could see, how Hunting Dogs slowly drew their swords. In a last attempt to explain yourself and try to resolve the conflict, you carefully put your hand on Fukuchi's arm and stepped before him. Dozens of angry eyes stared at you. You cleared your throat.

"I am not an imposter. My friends aren't cultists! We got lost and just wanted to find a way home... AAA!"

"SILENCE YOUR LIES, CREATURE!"

A small stone hit you on a forehead. The hit was painful, but, thankfully, not strong enough to cause serious damage.

But was strong enough to cause damage to the person, who threw the stone.

🐕‍🦺 You left Mondstadt. With Klee as your guide, you were going to the Dragonspine to find Albedo. And Mondstadt was left with beaten up knights, scared civilians and a new baby, who just an hour ago were an adult, who liked threw stones.

Still, no one in Mondstadt realized, that you weren't an imposter. In their eyes, you became an Imposter with a horde of demons under your command.

After you left, Jean reached to Fatui delegation. Maybe, Harbingers could help to capture you.

Meanwhile, you and Hunting Dogs, together with Albedo, finished planning your next move. You would move from nation to nation, searching for Alice. Albedo promise to keep in touch with her, asking her to either stay as long as she can in one nation, or go to you, if you find a safe place somewhere in Teyvat.

Time to move forward.

🐕‍🦺 After Zhongli's and his adeptis attack on you and Hunting Dogs, you decided to stay away from the city.

Still, the situation wasn't as bad as it can be. You had quite a good number of helpers (you, Jouno and Fukuchi had to make sure, that Tetchou won't try to cook for Xiangling as a 'thank you for help'. You didn't want to get on kind girl's bad side), and, while being accused and hunted was terrible, you had your friends with you.

Right before you decided to move to the next nation, your camp was attacked.

By Fatui.

And by Tartaglia, Eleventh Fatui Harbinger.

⚔️ While Teruko and others were protecting you from Fatui solders, Fukuchi was fighting Childe. Fukuchi has to admit, that Childe was a dangerous enemy and a skillful warrior. Fukuchi knew, that he shouldn't underestimate him. And Fukuchi won't underestimate himself either.

Especially, after Childe transformed into a Foul Legacy.

Childe tried to focus on a battle and ignored that tiny quiet voice, that begged him to stop attacking and believe "Impostor's" words. He must destroy the old man and the rest of your horde and capture you.

Childe raised an eyebrow, when the old man picked up a small stone from the ground. Was he desperate enough to start throwing junk? The old man threw the stone. And hot, white pain filled Childe's senses. His left shoulder, where the stone hit him, was burning with pain. The bone shattered, skin was broken. Transformation was cancelled.

Childe, in his human form, was laying on the ground, howling with pain. Behind Fukuchi, the remaining Fatui soldiers finally surrender. They collect their fellow soldiers and Tartaglia and left you alone.

You hopped, that you won't run in other Harbingers.

🐕‍🦺News about Childe's defeat spread through Teyvat. And almost everyone were terrified of your group. Now, instead of 'Sinner' and 'Heretic' you were greeted with 'Begone, Monsters' and 'By the power of Holy Creator, return to the depth of The Abyss you have crawled from!'.

People were now afraid, but, thankfully, Nahida was helping your group. Staying with Aranaras was fun. For some reason, they start adoring Jouno and Fukuchi, and it became a current occurrence, when they were sitting on the ground, discussing something, and Aranaras were climbing all over them.

Unfortunately, harbingers didn't give up yet.

You didn't know about most of the attempts.

You didn't know about Fukuchi fighting with Pierro and winning.

You didn't know about a bird-like mask in Jouno's bag. About Dottore, who was unfortunate enough to ran into Jouno and Arabalika and demand Hunting Dog to give aranara and you to him.

You didn't know about Arlecchino's and Teruko's quarrel that ended in child Arlecchino on a doorstep of House of the Hearth.

You didn't know about Tachihara destroying Sandrone's robot, when she was searching for you.

You didn't know about Tetchou's fight with Capitano. The moment Tetchou got his grip on Capitano's claymore, he got an advantage over the strongest warrior in Teyvat. Because "controlling a blade that was making loops and barrels" wasn't one of Capitano's abilities. Tetchou was victorious.

But four Harbingers still remain. And Cryo Archon was still here.

🐕‍🦺 When you got a letter from Albedo (through Alhaitham) about Alice whereabouts, and Nahida, thanks to her powers, confirmed it, Hunting Dogs and you left Sumeru and start your trip to Snezhnaya through Fontaine's port.

🐕‍🦺 Unfortunately, the delegation was waiting for you in Fontaine. Tsaritsa, healed Childe, Columbina and Pantalone with Fatui troops were waiting for you.

The battle has begun.

Hunting Dogs tried to keep you away from battle. You followed their plan, until you noticed Pantalone, who was aiming a musket at Tetchou, while he was facing another direction.

You acted fast.

You and Pantalone, both gripping one musket, as a small tornado rushed through the battle. Each of you were trying to get the musket solely to yourself. Your fight were good enough destruction, Fatui's troops were jumping away, trying not to get in your and Pantalone's way.

You growl. You hated being in Teyvat. You hated being afraid for Hunting Dogs life. You missed others. You were tired of Fatui's ambush.

You wanted to go home.

The portal opened under your feet.

______

🪢🦀🐁 It's been almost a month since you and Hunting Dogs have disappeared. Everyone was looking for you. While Hunting Dogs would never let anything bad happening to you, there is a chance, that you were separated. And the fact, that there were no trails left, made everyone worried. Fyodor and Dazai weren't sleeping. They were discussing, what to do next. And thinking about the ways to make Katai and Higuichi stop to share their "theories" about your disappearance. Because, if Fyodor heard another "[Y/N] and Hunting Dogs get secretly married and then run away from home to who knows where" from Katai, he will do something drastic to Katai. Same story was with Dazai and Higuichi's "They built a bunker under the forest and hid there from aliens, I know for sure!".

Suddenly, they have heard the loud crash coming from the barn.

🐕‍🦺 Sounds were loud enough to wake everyone up. When everyone got to the barn, they saw a bizarre situation.

You were trying to take away a strange gun from a rich-looking guy, while Hunting Dogs tried to get you away from each other.

🐕‍🦺 Pantalone, startled by the appearance of other people, lose his grip. You immediately pull the musket from his grip and hit Pantalone on the head with the butt of a musket. Pantalone, unconscious, fall on the ground. Only then you realized, that you were back.

🐕‍🦺 It would take time to explain everything to others. One thing for sure. You were very grateful, that you and Hunting Dogs were together. You had a feeling, that the Teyvat journey would be much worse, if you were alone.

______

Tag list: @withered-blossoms , @myluckymoon @cocodrilofeliz @c4xcocoa @vvyeislazzy @whisperingwinters

#self-awarebsd #self-awareau #bungou stray dogs au #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd anime #bsd x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #sagau impostor au #imposter sagau #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #sagau #imposter au #Self-Aware Fukuchi Ouchi #Self-Aware Teruko Okura #Self-Aware Michizou Tachihara #Self-Aware Saigiku Jouno #Self-Aware Tetchou Suehiro

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horde-princess · 1 year

Text

so okay like. okay so. in evangelicalism everything is about spiritual warfare right. if you're not a soldier for god then you’re working for the devil, whether you know it or not. it's super interesting to see how nate stevenson plays with different sides of this.

adora was turned into a weapon for the “heroes,” while nimona was considered a weapon for the "villains.” along with the subversion of these institutionally-defined roles in both stories, there's this common thread where nimona and adora both reject this label of being a "weapon" - either for OR against the unjust system.

which is weird right? why would nimona care if someone called her a weapon for good. it becomes clear though when you think about the religious metaphors... it’s always about choice.

(x)

i think the word weapon is intended to convey a sense of absent free will. you're not the one making decisions, someone else is controlling you in their own war. in nimona’s case it’s about rejecting the church's perception that being queer = being used by satan, and then nate goes a step further in she-ra to say actually, the real weapon was when i was being wielded by the church. in either case, i reject the idea that i’m just a pawn in some kind of spiritual war, and also reject your perception of me as such. i have the power to claim autonomy over my own life - "i am not a weapon.”

so with this context we can more fully appreciate adora’s line here, the whole metaphor of she-ra being a weapon and how it wraps up with a bold and genuinely heretical statement that challenges christian control of the narrative. you could think of "weapon" literally, like the inquisition which helped inspire nimona’s character, and she-ra addresses christian imperialism in general. but more subtly it’s also evangelicals believing that it’s ok to harm & traumatize people in the name of “love.” a huge theme in the show is about this uniquely cruel trauma of being taught to hate and attack lgbt+ people while you yourself are repressing your identity and sense of belonging in the community.

THIS IS SO MUCH TO THINK ABOUT HHHH NIMONA IS SO GOOD!!!!!!

#hey guys did u miss me #lkdjfd i wrote this a while ago but thought it deserved to see the light of day😔#she ra #nimona #religious meta

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two-sibyls-tall · 11 months

Text

I bullet-point planned out a batfam fanfic aWHILE ago but I am Bad At Writing full-fledged stories so I’m going to just throw it out in the open here in the hopes that ya’ll will appreciate it, and also that mayhaps someone else who is Good At Writing will find it and make it.

So. Here’s my take on a Reverse!Robins Dimensional Travel fic.

Damian:

Starts off with Robin!Damian seeing a black-robed uniform that’s awfully similar to the League of Assassins gear. Which is. Worrying. to see in Gotham.

Robin!Damian sneaks up on him to figure out wtf he’s doing.

Nightwing!Damian, aka the black-robed figure, calls him out. Possibly even makes an offhanded joke about how R!Damian shouldn’t be wearing bright ass colors if he didn’t want to be seen.

R!Damian catches sight of the Nightwing logo on N!Damian’s chest and proceeds to demand who he is

N!Damian recognizes R!Damin’s pattern of speech and essentially goes “oh fuck”. Reveals himself as Nightwing, aka Damian Wayne.

R!Damian immediately thinks of the Heretic. He calls for backup in code via comm link.

N!Damian is on the same comm channel, so he hears the responses to the code even if he doesn’t recognize the code itself. He’s semi-annoyed and starts running

R!Damian is IN PURSUIT.

N!Damian gets yoinked back to hid own dimension

R!Damian meets up with Nightwing!Dick and says something along the lines of “the assailant disappeared but who tf was that.”

Jason:

It’s a couple days later now.

Red Robin!Tim has already started working on a multiverse-type theory and let Red Hood!Jason know, so honestly RH!Jason isn’t terribly surprised when he comes across a vaguely familiar vigilante beating the shit out of a criminal in Crime Alley.

New vigilante introduces himself as Redbird

RH!Jason goes across comms to ask Tim how tf he should be handling this shit?

Redbird visibly freezes up when RR! does the classic “no names in the field” chastise

RH!Jason straight up asks Redbird if he can hear the comms bc who needs to be subtle.

When Redbird confirms, he just sorta sighs and gives a code to O. There’s a bit of yelling while the team processes the possibility of compromised comms.

It calms down again, and RR!Tim is like “okay the evidence is pretty clear here if you ask me,, Redbird I think you’re from another dimension. Do you recognize any of us?”

Redbird is like “well I’ve only actually caught one of your guys’s names so far, but yes I. Know. a Tim. He doesnt sound like you anymore, though”

RH!Jason is like ‘hmm we’re gonna put a pin in that one for now’

Meanwhile RR!Tim is talking to Redbird about going to the batcave and also maybe running some tests to figure out where they’re coming from and what’s going on here

Redbird shrugs and mentions that this whole situation sorta seems like what his brother was talking about a few seconds before he jumped dimensions.

“Is your brother Damian Wayne, aka Nightwing?”

“Fuck. Yeah, that’s him.”

At this point RH!Jason connects the dots an goes “ah shit, you’re me aren’t you.”

Redbird!Jason gives the most dramatic eye-roll possible and is like “bro we went from Redbird to Red Hood? That’s so lame. Why’d we even change it.”

RH!Jason just looks at him. “No dude we went from Robin to Red Hood. because we died.”

“NEWS TO ME???”

They've been heading to the batcave during this conversation

They walk in and RR!Tim's already there and he's like "Jason stop freaking out mini you this is clearly a different universe he might not even die."

Redbird!Jason is completely frozen staring at (unmasked) Tim and just kinda whispers "Tim?" And then he gets yoinked back to his universe.

Tim and Jason look at each other and Jason's like "so that's definitely not a good sign for what happened to you in their universe, right?"

Dick:

Nightwing!Dick is in the Batcave w/ most of the family discussing the dimension travel shit when he suddenly feels like he's being watched

He puts the meeting on pause and the feeling increases and he just looks straight up and sees golden eyes staring at him from the rafters

The other Batfamily members in attendance also look up and go what !! the fuck !!

NW!Dick knows about the whole 'Haly's circus being a theoretical breeding ground for the Court of Owls' thing bc I said so, so he already feels like he knows whats goin on

before anyone can say anything he just clears his throat and says "Gray Son?"

Batfamily freezes in shock and the small child w/ gold eyes just tilts his head in recognition and then jumps down from the rafters w/ no hesitation

He lands right next to NW!Dick and stands at attention, and Dick kinda feels sick bc Talon!Dick is like 8 years old

NW!Dick looks at the batfamily and makes some joke of like "haha looks like it’s my turn for the alternate dimension encounter"

RR!Tim is already taking notes

Bruce's put it all together and he's like "fuck. Little you is a Talon."

Cue the batfamily losing their shit again

Talon!DIck is looking between all of them confused, and he notices Damian just deadlock staring at him, and he's like Oh!! I know this one !!! so he stares back

RR!Tim is like "okay fantastic, well between Talon and Nightwing!Damian I think I can confidently guess by now that their dimension is one where all of our ages are reversed. Hey Talon do u wanna confirm that."

Talon is Very Helpful and nods, and Nightwing!Dick is like "alright buddy do you wanna tell us about ur dimension"

Except Talon doesnt really talk but !! he does sign!! his big sister cass has been teaching him sign !!

NW!Dick is like “thats great!! I know sign!!” and he starts relaying info to RR!Tim so he can take notes while Talon talks

Talon tells him that Tim From His Universe (and Dick isnt going to unpack yet why Tim’s namesign is a T drawn in the shape of a smile) has also put together that they’re going to a different universe

He says there was a case that the 4 nightshift batboys were on (girls were working a different case, Batman is offworld) w Oracle leading ofc that was selling alien technology

he says the 4 nightshift batboys were hit w a beam that didnt seem to do anything, but Tim of His Universe thinks that beam just had a slower affect and is what’s causing this

He says his big brother damian was the first to just randomly disappear mid mission and it gave Talon a scare bc they were together at the time, so he just froze and waited for damian to come back

and when Damian did, he immediately relayed what happened over comms, and a couple seconds later Redbird wasnt responding either

at this point RR!Tim interrupts and is like “are u saying urs all happened the same day? bc its been like a couple weeks since NW!Damian came here and several days since Redbird”

Talon just kinda shrugs and is like “well keep an eye out for Tim Of My Universe next bc he was hit too”

At this point NW!Tim is like “hey bud. why u. Why u using that name sign for Tim?”

Talon’s is about to respond when he gets yoinked back to his universe as well

Tim gives a mildly hysterical laugh and is like “well that’s not foreboding at all!!!”

Tim:

RR!Tim doesnt actually notice when JJ!Tim comes in this universe, bc at this point JJ!Tim has figured it out as well and is like “alright well the kid hasnt been jokerized so why traumatize him if I dont have to”

but unfortunately JJ!Tim IS spotted by a random passerby who mistakes him for the Joker so the whole batfamily’s out soon anyway looking for him

Hood finds JJ!Tim first and is like “alright i got eyes on him and im in pursuit,, hes kinda dressed weird tho wtf”

JJ!Tim hears this over comms and is like ‘welp now or never’ so he talks over the comms too (while running from Hood) and is like “hey I might be in the wrong universe, any way I could talk to one Tim Drake”

RR!Tim is like “Fuck dude really. rn? with a joker breakout? this is a bad time”

JJ!Tim responds w like “ur telling me, dude, Im the one being chased by a homicidal maniac w a red bucket on his head”

“YOU’RE THE GUY DRESSED LIKE THE JOKER?”

“THE JOKER IS STILL ALIVE HERE?”

JJ!Tim does NOT take this news well and he stops running, Hood catches up but doesnt engage bc ur telling me this is Tim?? this is RR?? tf happened?? but he does relay over comms that JJ is laughing and it is freaking him tf out bc he sounds EXACTLY like the Joker so SOMEONE get over here before Jason goes full Pit Rage

RR!Tim does arrive and immediately recognizes his own features despite the green hair and green eyes and bleached skin and Absolutely Terrifying Smile what the FUCK happened

JJ calms down just enough to be like “Oh I get it. This universe is age reversal so it also changed who the Joker got, too”

Hood looks like hes about to be sick, Tim’s not far behind

JJ’s like “great! well I’m Joker Junior, occasionally known as Tim Drake, and in my universe I was brainwashed by the Joker, then killed him and myself!! but apaprently the universe wasnt a fan of that because then I woke up in an UNMARKED GRAVE and wandered around for awhile, got dunked in a lazarus pit, and am overall having a terrible time”

At this point NW!Dick and Robin!Damian are here too and they’re like jfc dude

JJ looks down at his wrist like theres a watch there (there’s not) and is like “alright well according to my calculations, I shouldnt be here much longer, since most of my time was spent hiding & then running from ya’ll in order to NOT have this confrontation but look how well that worked out. Anyway u guys should kill the joker,, who knows if he might get inspiration from my universe and torture little timmy over there,, anyway ta ta” and then he fuckin disappears

Red Hood is like “yep ok im gonna go murder a clown” and no one really moves to go stop him

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kit-williams · 4 months

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Hail to the King

For @konigsblog as a thank you for the follow and I guess to what expect of my writings.

tw: this is lewd, delusional König, warhammer 40k shenanigans, König is a Black Templar (see The 40k au for why)((I might try to write another with him as a Blood Angel)) I am shit at trigger warnings

It wasn't his fault that they hadn't kept a better leash on their Schätze. In his defense the chapter serf should have known better and the mortal... well she shouldn't have looked so helpless and cute. Normally he would be thrilled and an honor to join a kill team to slay xenos but this was suppose to be a punishment on learning to not touch what wasn't his.

He walked down the hall of the alien craft chopping down any xeno unfortunate to walk into his path. Most of the Inquisition agents he was around were men... it seems the Inquisitor had been warned about his pecularities.

"You're not suppose to be here." His head snapped over to the voice of a little Maus. He could feel his mouth salivate as the space suit hugged her form in a pleasing way. Oh sure to many baselines she was hardly different from the form of a man but he could see... as well as the custom suit with the symbol of the Inquisition on her front. But the way she was leaning over a console with the curve of her ass just on display.

"Auch, Where am I suppose to be then Maus?" He said annoyed trying to not play his hand but lucky for him his suit hid his eyes from the way they lustfully ran over her body. Though he looked at the bodies of the Xenos littering the room. "You being a little Maus and just coming in after all the fighting is done?"

He could see the pout on the other side of her visor, "Rude. No I cleared the room myself. Oh was a shame that it had to come to blows but then again..." He stopped listening as soon as her hips started to sway with what she was saying. He wanted to dig his fingers into her flesh as his hips moved against hers only hearing her pretty little moans. "Hey big guy!" She finally shouted over the vox.

König resumed paying attention to his Maus. "Ja?"

"Thanks for paying attention...," The sarcasm was obvious in her voice, "anyway. Like I said earlier you're not suppose to be near me and you're suppose to be on the other side of the ship dealing with Xenos."

"The fighting led me this way and given the amount of dead at your feet Maus. You're not exactly alone. It would be a shame if your Inquisitor lost your expertise." He purred out the last few words just buttering her up a little.

"Well... you're not wrong..." He could easily tell she was preening under his complements, "But the Inquisitor said you weren't allowed near female agents or crew members. So be off with you... shoo." She tried her best to wave him off as she turned back to the console.

Konig held a growl in his throat he'd has to teach his Maus manners later. But he was on duty and purging Xenos in the name of the Emperor came first and pleasure later. He started back down the hall before he heard mechanics and her soft little 'Oh hi.' He rushed back as soon as the rapid burst fire rang out and abhorrent xenos cries as he rushed back into the room.

She was in the middle of wrestling one as it was trying to grab her rifle out of her hands. He snarled out as he was upon them in a moment as thick xeno blood painted the walls and her suit as his chainsword ripped through the xeno flesh. Her head turned at the sound of a chime and she grabbed the assumingly heretical technology... then again he wasn't the biggest fan of the Mechanicus and knew Inquisitors tended to flirt with the Dark Mechanicus or heretecks to get better tech.

"Well I'm done here. Thanks again big guy!" She chirped and patted his chest before he grabbed her and pulled her to his chest.

"Nein! You'll just find trouble klein Maus. Und how will you get out of trouble all by yourself hmm?" He cocked his head to the side and watched her fold her arms over her chest. He was giddy as she was just the right amount of willful yet submissive. He knew what was for her own good... he had experience and age. She sighed as she settled into his arm holding her without much of a fight.

König knew he could get his hands on a pretty little Maus during his time here.

#warhammer 40k #warhammer 40k au #könig #könig x reader #könig mw2 #könig call of duty #könig cod #konig #konig x reader #konig mw2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #black templar #delusional Konig #delusional König

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happynowyo · 1 year

Text

Reflection, part 3

Fandom: Six of crows

Warnings: Kaz Brekker and everything that goes with him

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Shadow Summoner!OC

Summary: The long-awaited meeting finally happens and Jess is left with choice between what's good and what's right for her

Word count: 2,5k

Tag list: @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @valkyrie05x, @parabatai-winchester, @footydais, @valeridarkness

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4

Inej, as the stranger introduced herself, turned out to be part of the Crows, who operated under Kaz Brekker's command. Jess didn't know him, but she'd heard his name dozens of times in the couple of hours she'd spent near the town square.

The guy was a legend among the criminals of Ketterdam, and for some reason she was not surprised that Nina was among his gang. Her passionate nature and love of adventure were bound to lead the Heartrender to something like that.

Jess made good use of her time before they reached the Crow Club, so she managed to get Inej to talk a little and find out details about their activities. The short story about the Crows being involved in the recent events in the Fold and helping Alina made her feel a little more sympathy for them, and judging by the respect shadowed on Inej's face, it was mutual when Jess shared a reciprocal story about helping Alina adapt during her first months in the Little Palace. Her heart was warmed by the pleasant thought that Alina had quietly and peacefully left after the big fight and, as Jess hoped, remained safe.

The memory of her father sent a wave of shivers down her skin, tightly concealed by a black suit that looked more like a man's, but Jess forced herself to clear her mind. In the darkened room with dozens of candles, where there was a cacophony of chatter, laughter, shuffling cards and clinking glasses, her whole body tensed, and her grey eyes scanned the space for nearby exits and guards with a practiced reflex. Inej's smile came out almost modest, but the pride in her eyes was too expressive. Whatever was going on in the Crow Club, that place meant a lot to her and all the other Crows.

Jess straightened in vain to regain the feeling of unshakeable confidence that had left her the moment Baghra had caught her in the bedroom with the story of the Black Heretic and told her to pack her things in a hurry. Everything that had been so dear, so ordered and familiar, had turned to dust, become another shadow, and the new reality still seemed too hostile and unsafe. Jess guessed that the illustrious Kaz Brekker would be a tough, brutal, cold-blooded and damned smart guy as everyone talked about him that way.

What would she offer him in return? What should she even ask him for? Nina was a part of his team, and Jess was definitely not in a position to run anywhere else on her own. She needed some company and support, but the Crows weren't an innocent group of interest. Being an old friend of Nina Zenik wasn't enough to stay with them, and that realization pierced through her, but all despair was instantly displaced when a familiar voice reached her ears.

— Apple pie!

God, Jess had once hated that nickname and had even fought Nina over it a couple of times, but now it sounded like a compliment from heaven. So familiar, in fact, that it brought tears to her eyes for a second.

It wasn't hard to spot Nina at the bar — the bright red hat on her head caught everyone's attention. Jess shortened the distance between them in two great steps, and Nina's warm embrace enveloped her like a fluffy blanket, bringing her joy and relief. Glancing over her friend's shoulder, Jess glimpsed those who were keeping her company — the tall well-built Fjerdan, whose surprise was most noticeable at the moment, and the same couple she'd spotted on the street. A dark skinned guy in a large-checkered jacket standing next to a slightly younger man with exceptionally lively facial expressions and dark hair sticking out amusingly in different directions.

— Am I still dreaming or is it really you? If I am, I hope the next moment a million kruge will fall on me and I'll never have to look at the horribly tasteless suits of these drunks again, — Nina's chirping voice reflected genuine hope, but Jess knew her too well to lose sight of the unease that lurked between the lines. — I'm so glad you finally ran away out of there! How long have you been staying…?

— Ran away? You look too good for someone who has been a prisoner or a hostage. You should have seen how beat up I was when we crossed… — Jesper had the audacity to interrupt the conversation, but quickly cut himself short when Wylan elbowed him lightly in the side with an evident hint. The crowded Crow Club definitely was not the best place to talk about the Fold.

Jess looked around confusedly, trying to find even a single free meter of space, and Inej understood her without a word, gently pulling her to the side and nodding to the left side door. Behind it there was a storeroom with boxes of liquor that stood in almost endless rows, and that's where Jess finally was able to be alone with Nina, having the relief of a semblance of silence.

She could see her friend more closely now, noticing that the years that had passed had added her some beauty and brought certain maturity. Nina was no longer that funny reckless teenager who'd helped her steal Tidemakers' notes or with whom they'd sneaked into the kitchen after lights out when their teachers prohibited them to be at the dinner as a punishment. Jess couldn't wait to talk to her friend about everything that had happened to them in the past few years, but first she had a much more pressing issue to deal with.

— Had Brekker really seen Alina? — she didn't doubt the truth of that statement, but she needed to hear it again to really believe it. Had Kaz seen her father? Had he watched the greedy gleam in the dark eyes of the one with whom she shared blood and power? Jess's gaze ran inquisitively over Nina's face as her palms gripped her shoulders tightly.

— Yes. I swear I was sure he was kidding me, but it was the truth. He snuck into the Little Palace with Inej and Jesper, actually you could have seen them there, during the ceremony.

Jess nodded automatically, hardly giving these words any meaning. When Aleksander stood beside Alina in front of the king and the mass of guests, she was too busy following the tracker Mal and helping Baghra get Alina out of the palace in the safest way possible. Though now she could fully recognize the irony of the situation. She could have escaped even then and ended up in Ketterdam the same way.

— Do you feel something? That connection you had with your father, can you use it again? Everyone says he died in the Fold, but you know that the Darkling is the oldest and the strongest among us. Is that why Baghra sent you here? What happened to her?

Nina was gabbling, caught in apparent excitement, and it made Jess smile fleetly. It was just like the old times.

— Baghra stayed at the Little Palace, but I don't know for how long. We heard the news and she decided we had to play ahead. If my father is alive, he will come for me. For both of us, — the thought of having to kill again for someone else's revenge and pride disgusted her, but the fear of Aleksander's anger was much stronger. — I need to hide for a while. Is Kaz Brekker really as powerful as people bubble on the streets, or should I not expect to sleep peacefully at night under his patronage?

— Kaz is a stubborn cruel weirdo, but he knows his business and he is the smartest man I know. I'm sure he can think of a way to keep you hidden while you're here. He helped me to get Matthias out of jail, even though he doesn't stop poking me about it every time he gets a chance, — Nina rolled her eyes with a chuckle and touched Jess' wrists carefully, making sure not to touch the bare skin near the edge of her jacket. A matter of habit still, no different even after these years. — You could have been a great addition to our team, you know? Any heist would be hundred times easier if we had your shadows at our disposal. But I know it would put you on the trail quickly if anyone outside the Crow Club knew about your abilities.

— Well, I'm still good with knives and hand-to-hand combat. It never hurts to have extra hands, does it? Where can I find Brekker?

— He's locked himself in his office. Opposite door on the right. Maybe I should talk to him first? He always seems indifferent, like he's doing you a favor by listening at all, but you can count on him if you can get him interested.

— You've already done so much for me, Nina. I'm glad you're okay, honestly, I was worried you might have gotten into trouble. Grishas were looking for you after you ran away, my father made sure of that. But now I have to learn to take care of myself, without him or Baghra. I'll find you later, okay? And, Saints, don't call me Apple pie in front of the others, it's outrageous!

Jess laughed briefly and placed a light kiss on Nina's cheek before she slipped out of the storeroom first. The cheerful mood was immediately replaced by the background anxiety, and every step to Kaz Brekker's office seemed long and exhausting, testing her to the limit. The rumors she had heard were enough to know that the Bastard of the Barrel was capable of any cruelty for the right price, and he could easily pass her off for a big sum as the Darkling's daughter or as Grisha with a special talent. He could not be trusted, but Jess had so much fear inside that carrying it alone was utterly unbearable at that moment.

— Jesper, I asked you to be at the door, should I say it in Kaelish or Ravkan so you'll get it sooner?

A harsh bark came from a guy with dark neatly tucked back hair. The sharp cheekbones and dark circles under his eyes from the lack of sleep were the first things Jess managed to notice, stoically holding back the barbed comments. Kaz was literally buried under a mountain of sheets and didn't even deign to look up at the guest, absolutely certain that an orderly tone would suffice.

— Ravkan works fine for me, but I'm surprised the famous Bastard of the Barrel has time to study languages in the midst of constant scheming and eliminating rivals, — her voice remained very formal, scrubbed of any emotions, but there was some amusement dancing in her grey eyes for a second. That only intensified when Kaz Brekker finally looked up, unable to instantly hide his surprise.

— Reception hours are long over. I don't recall seeing you before. How did you get in here?

— Inej brought me. I'm a longtime friend of Nina and I wanted to talk to you about a deal. I need some protection and anonymity, Nina said you were the best candidate in Ketterdam. That you know how to stick to your part of the bargain.

The stranger's businesslike tone didn't fool Kaz. She was clearly desperate or she wouldn't have come directly to him. It was the first time he'd heard of Nina having friends from Ravka, but his first instinct reminded him that she only knew someone in Ravka because of the Little Palace. What were the chances that Grisha came to him so freely? Other people's secret past interested Kaz very little, but he was curious about what he could get in return for his services.

— What about your part? There are many ways to save someone's life and many corresponding risks, — in another life Kaz might have been a great honest merchant who would never miss out on a good deal. But in that life his brain had already begun diligently calculating his options. He thought of the ship's departure schedule and went over the names of loyal Dregs he could have let go as an escort for a while. But his guest's reply threw him off balance, sending a questioning wrench into his eyebrows.

— I want to stay here. At the Crow Club or wherever you all live. You're one of the most dangerous men in Ketterdam, but more importantly, you're astonishingly clever. The closer I am to you, the more chances I have of safe few months. Besides, I missed Nina a lot, we used to be a good team.

That was pure insanity — that's what they both thought at the same time. She assumed Kaz was so powerful and yet did she naively believe that he would let some stranger be in his way every day?

— What will happen next? In a few months? Will you go back to Ravka or go somewhere else to find another fool? I sense a catch before I even know the details.

— People don't seek protection for nothing, Kaz Brekker. You may have forgotten the feeling, but some of us still fear for our lives when someone threatens us. After a while the situation will become clearer and I can either go back to Ravka or escape to Novyi Zem or Shu Han to steer the danger away and keep you out of trouble because of me, — Jess replied more sharply than she had planned and sighed deeply, dabbing her gaze into the left dark corner where shadows appeared for a moment threatening to grow bigger.

It wasn't safe to stay in Ketterdam. If her father remained alive, he would come here, and neither Kaz Brekker nor all the Saints would save her. But she still had the illusion of freedom, the illusion of choice, and she clung to it as best as she could. Her palm dipped into the deep pocket of her jacket, and the next moment Jess carefully set down an exquisite necklace of weighty emeralds braided on a gold chain on the table in front of Kaz. The yearning squeezed her heart at the memory of how Aleksander had given it to her two years ago.

— It is an old relic from a previous royal dynasty. From the Little Palace, if you care for details. You can sell it for about three hundred thousand kruge if you find some good trader. Would that be a decent payment for you? — Jess was tormented by the feeling that she was selling herself at that moment. As well as her attachment to her father, her hope and her fond memories. There was a grim determination on her face, and she knew she wasn't going to leave that place without Brekker's consent. Unfortunately, he understood that, too.

— You said you and Nina were a team. What can you do? You don't look like a Heartrender.

— Name at least three other Heartrenders, besides Nina, that you know.

— You are too straightforward. Inferni? — Kaz leaned back in his chair more relaxed and twirled the necklace thoughtfully in his gloved palm. He wished he had been able to bring the trophy back from the Little Palace, so now he was pleased to see such a piece. Especially with such a high value, that he got for nothing in essence.

— Keep guessing, Kaz Brekker, but know that I prefer not to use my powers. They will lead me into troubles. But I can fight and use knives. I can help you with your dirty business so I don't have to sit here with boredom though your team looks pretty packed as it is. How'd you get that big guy, by the way? He looks like a Fjerdan and he's a long way from home then.

— Nina brought him in and I was quite satisfied with his service. Perhaps it will be the same with you.

Kaz's lips curved slightly in an approving smile, and he stood up, showing that they had come to some conclusion after all.

— I'll think about what you can do for the team. There's a spare room on the third floor at the end of the hallway in the Slat, near Inej's. Welcome to Ketterdam, …?

— Oh, it's Jess, sorry, — she caught her breath and finally introduced herself with a playful curtsey. It was hard for her to stop the rush of joy, as now she was given a chance to have some real peace and a possible occupation beyond her endless paranoia. — You won't regret it, I promise.

Part 4

#kaz brekker #six of crows #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x fem!reader #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x oc #nina zenik #inej ghafa #the darkling #aleksander morozova x daughter!reader #aleksander morozova

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maya-the-skaven · 5 months

Text

Much Ado About Rats: Speculative Skavenology

CW: there will be a couple of paragraphs discussing topics related to pregnancy, rape and sexual violence

Greetings everyone and welcome to the second post of my series of posts that will talk about my head canon about the Skaven and the worldbuilding behind the fan fic I am writing about them in the Warhammer: Age of Sigmar setting. In the previous post I have talked about some of my motivations for writing a Skaven story and complained about their near absent characterization. The story is about a small band of Skaven, who essentially tread the line between being villain and anti-hero protagonists, while exploring what would change if you’d yank them out of their society without a clear way inside.

However, before going onto the more social, world and character related tangents, I would like to talk about some of my head canon about Skaven biological and psychological function that is essentially aimed to diversify the range of their base characterisation. Without establishing this diversity and possibilities it’d be a chore having to explain and argue with everyone who’d read further information why the Skaven in my fic do not necessarily conform to the very generalistic description of Skaven from some of the very few sources we have about them. I will try to argue for expanding possibilities for the Skaven characters, without necessarily breaking the character of the Skaven faction on the wider average too much. True, my ideas are purely head canon, but in absence of any real nuance is it really that bad to treat it as incomplete information that could be expanded upon, rather an end-all of their lore? My fic is not for the extreme lore purists, but by their standards many Black Library writers would be egregious lore heretics as well, if only they didn’t have the GW stamp of approval.

The established lore on Skaven bodily and mental functions is actually incredibly limited. While we have an established description that portrays them as nearly universally extremely short-lived and deranged there is very little in the way of both nuance and diversity. This is also connected to my gripe from the previous post - that the Skaven are multiple, chaotic, diverse on societal level, but individually nearly always very homogeneous on every other level, to a point where it doesn’t make sense, statistically if for any other reason. In any case, this limitation makes it very hard to write compelling stories and compelling characters that aren’t entirely focused on the current situation, emotions and characters at hand. A story that has a continuity, longevity and is intertwined with the larger world, where we explore the questions of change, escape, relationships and minds, would probably not be very compelling if we knew that, with an extremely high probability, all our characters are just fated die without having lived or changed in a few years, only because that is our fundamental biological constraint. Similar is the notion of being ontologically/genetically evil, it’s a constraint that by design precludes interesting stories, unless you want to focus on the situation and not the characters. This is why I want to discuss how more nuance could be introduced for Skaven biology/psychology, without necessarily dismantling their character at large as species, which are certainly a part of their charm, but also give us the opportunity to use this newly established diversity to write more about them.

So, for one, I want to talk about their lifespan.

They are described to have the lifespan of literal real life rats, without any real nuance as to underlying reasons, with only exceptions reserved for those most powerful using warpstone alchemy to prolong their lives. My head canon and my fic’s worldbuilding makes a very fundamental assumption about Skaven lifespans to expand on this. This fundamental assumption to the question of Skaven life expectancy is actually very basic - that it is mainly informed by environmental factors, rather than genetics. It is basic, yet it changes so much for what you can do with your characters now that they don’t have to worry about their immediate natural limits to life expectancy if they don’t have access to warpstone alchemy. It is now perfectly possible to say that their short lifespan is an average across millions rather than an actual biologically informed upper limit, kind of like how human average life expectancy was much shorter in the ancient times (but, of course, Skaven lives are even shorter and for different reasons). At the same time it doesn't really break the general characterisation of Skaven en masse having short and miserable lives. I will also explain why this assumption makes much more sense than their lifespan being enforced by some kind of genetic limit.

First of all, it is quite obvious that Skaven aren’t literal real life rats, they are described to be very humanoid in most aspects, much closer to actual humans in terms of anatomy, physiology and internal functions than they are to rats.

Very close, in fact. That, together with the fact that larger animals and close human relatives just generally exhibit a very strong trend to having longer lifespans, makes me think that lives lasting a couple of years for most Skaven could not be primarily genetic. Additionally, while metabolism, growth rate and gestation periods correlate with lifespan, this is mostly due to mediation of a whole variety of additional biological factors and is very often additionally informed by evolutionary strategy, so you have quite a lot of exceptions to the trends. For Skaven no exact information is present apart from it being fast, but, again, Skaven are by large humanoid and those metrics by themselves mean little.

In the end, there is also not really any information related to Skaven lifespan genetics. Magic also complicates things, like elves having near infinite lifespans. But we shouldn’t treat the absence of evidence as evidence of absence for anything relating to Skaven biology, especially when their environmental conditions actually explain very well the reasons for short lives. I’ve always been a fan of speculative biology and evolution and I think it definitely has a place in fantasy settings, even when we generally have much more flexibility with realism. In the end genetic explanations are absent and don’t make sense on reflection without relying too much on magic (even for a fantasy setting), while the environment provides a good explanation for the state of things.

So what about the environment? Well, being a Hive World/Forge World Manufactorum serf would probably be a paradise compared to what the majority of Skaven laborers endure, especially the slaves. Truly, at least corpse starch supply is usually stable, your supervisors don’t usually execute you if you keep your head down and meet quotas, you can sleep your 2-4 allocated hours of sleep without an overwhelming fear that someone will slit your throat, your working environment was at least initially built not to fall apart from every malfunction and your co-workers aren’t looking at you thinking of devouring your corpse raw. Compare that to Skaven, where even regular clan rats exist in a situation of rampants starvation and disease, barely ever getting any sleep at all, constantly performing extremely hard labor in extremely unsafe conditions and have to constantly watch their back not to become someone else’s meal, with slaves just always indiscriminately utilized to complete exhaustion and death even when preserving labor would’ve made more sense.

Other Skaven are used as extremely expendable soldiers that are put to near constant warfare with much of the same conditions, like disease and starvation (just remember how big of a proportion of casualties humans used to have due to disease rather than direct combat prior to industrial revolution). Most often they are used as both simultaneously. Skaven barely ever produce any food, at least not in quantities necessary to feed their population, they have an entire clan that just intentionally spreads disease and their socio-economics are anchored around an extremely carcinogenic and reactive material that they use as a drug, facilitate reproduction with and indiscriminately add into every piece of technology. I highly doubt anyone would survive more than a few years in such an environment, the lowest rungs of Skaven society where coincidentally most Skaven reside are structured akin to some of the worst penal labor camps and slave industries in human history. So you have beings that are forced to immediately perform hard manual labor or conduct warfare after just a brief period of infancy with no effort at all to create any livable conditions, if anything effort is put into making those conditions lethally insufferable, intentionally or not. You could say that the Skaven are #1 employer for child labour in all of the Mortal Realms.

The main thesis of this line of thought is: take a Skaven that wasn’t born out of some warpstone-mutated flesh blob, feed and clothe them, give them medicine and a healthy work-life balance and they *might* live much much longer, if not up to a human’s lifespan then perhaps at least a few dozen years. Of course we know this thought experiment would pretty much never happen, however the redefinition of this constraint from genetic to environmental gives us lots of possibilities for variety among Skaven. If anything, we already know that cases of long-living Skaven, that do not have the same kind of access to life-prolonging magic that the leadership does, exist.

Similarly, I would say the environment primarily informs the supposed incredible metabolism of Skaven. The Black Hunger, their propensity for devouring everything that can be eaten, their general twitchiness. The biggest red flag here should be that, despite their twitchiness and extreme behaviors towards diet, they actually don’t exhibit many indicators of stable fast metabolism found in other animals when compared to humans, such as very fast reflexes, increased physiological activity, healing rate, specific organ functions or having to maintain high temperatures. In fact their high metabolism resembles less animals with actual fast metabolism and is more akin to humans whose metabolism is faster due to conditions such as starvation and lack of sleep, something that nearly all Skaven are exposed to at an extreme level. Some of their behavior is also easily explained by the environment, as humans consistently exhibit extreme behaviors when exposed to extreme prolonged hunger and starvation, while constant extreme exhaustion, lack of sleep and stress very often leads to very real and very strong psychoses. Thus, I don’t really think that a Skaven in a nutshell would have a lot of behavioral and physiological differences from a human in a nutshell in relation to bodily functions.

This is where CW from the beginning comes in as I am talking about some of the reproduction/gender related stuff. If you are not interested, skip to below the meme with Garak and Odo.

Something related I want to talk about and also something that never sat quite right with me for multiple reasons is Skaven reproduction and gender. This is an extremely uncomfortable topic for many and that includes me, but I thought it’d be a bit disingenuous to completely ignore it. There is not a lot of lore about it, except the breeders, an old and rather rarely mentioned piece of Skaven lore that leads to more conjecture than anything really specific. I should probably immediately state that I regard Skaven at large to consist of both sexes in an equal distribution and be largely genderless and not very dimorphic, while (if we are to decide to keep them at all) breeders generally being Moulder monstrosities designed for mass breeding. Additionally Moulder technology is so beyond the realms of realism that I honestly believe that the breeders are custom monstrosities mass produced out of any biological material that is resilient and stable when mutated with warpstone, rather than Skaven of female sex. Otherwise, the Skaven are capable of and have all the parts needed for normal reproduction. It happens and is largely unnoticed due to the sheer scale of Skaven society, and doesn’t hold a lot of consequences regarding gender roles, facilitated by faster gestation periods and growth.

All in all, my personal head canon and something I write into my fic is that sex and gender is just not really a thing that matters a lot to Skaven, neither are breeders (which I'd honestly rather not keep at all as something universal) really tied into it, nor are they necessarily a specific and universal thing opposed to general Moulder chicanery tied to reproduction, this is something that in my opinion is much more in tune with the Skaven society of mass numbers, social indifference, general ignorance and universal misery. Basically classical patriarchy is at the same time both not evil enough, too restrictive for strength in numbers conquerors and too complex for a society that doesn’t care for any of its members, while being capable of applying both extreme cruelty and mutagenic magic to any Skaven regardless of anything. This is my head canon and it has minor but still important implications for the characters that I will talk about in the next posts.

This is, again, a very uncomfortable topic, basically my attempt at detaching the Skaven from the very flimsy and bad-tasting lore that implies patriarchal rape factories as the only possibility, while at the same time keeping Skaven just as alien in their capabilities for similar evils. In the end, we have trillions of Skaven and thousands of clans, so there ought to be variability in how they approach reproduction and gender, especially since not all might be able to afford Moulder creations and hoards of warpstone and it never made sense that reproduction could be handled by just a couple dozen breeders, while every other Skaven was exclusively of male sex. Additionally, those reproduction and gender practices could be one of the elements that determines longevity for Skaven, how these determine gestation, growth, how mutated they are from their very birth, how unstable and vulnerable to cancers their genes are. This head canon, in my opinion, doesn’t take away from Skaven, but yet again gives us much more possibilities, while keeping things more comfortable, but at the same time preserving their general capacity for alienation and evil. I personally find the whole matter of breeders distasteful and ignore it as a bit of very poorly aged lore, however it wouldn’t be completely fair to pretend this is some kind of evil Skaven are incapable of doing, I merely just offer a framework where this ceases being a keystone issue and thus makes Skaven more varied in the vibes that authors want to get from them. And not wanting to work with very graphic rape-patriarchal themes is completely fair.

Lastly, I will talk briefly about Skaven “nature”. I will again be very forthcoming and say that I don’t believe that beings as sapient, intelligent and free willed as humans can be “naturally” evil or represent a homogeneous mentality as an entire species. Skaven are not daemons, are not mind controlled, nor incapable of any non-malicious emotions. Yet again, I believe their psychology is a product of their environment, just like their Black Hunger, destructive behavior, twitchiness, and at least part of their general insanity can be very well explained by psychosis and mental instability induced by living in a horrible environment, starving, being diseased and having extreme stress. Yet again, we have seen a wide range of human behaviors, that at several points in history defined entire cultures, events and societies, but we could never say that those humans somehow bred themselves to exhibit those mentalities (rather than reproduced those behaviors socially, generation after generation) without looking like idiotic racists. A society that literally puts you into a position where you must murder and devour corpses for the very basic survival, while danger to your life lurks literally around every single corner to the point that you can’t even have a moment of sleep or work without expecting to die every single day, would never produce mentally stable, healthy individuals and would not select any traits that we, humans, would consider “good”. It’s rat eat rat society through and through and it reproduces itself just like human societies reproduced bigotry, superstition and abusive traditions for thousands of years in some instances.

One final point to this question comes from the argument that the Skaven are inherently touched by Chaos. While this is ostensibly true since, we never see any Skaven that were somehow detached from the Great Horned Rat or actively sought any kind of redemption or cleansing, “tainted/touched by Chaos” by itself just doesn’t mean anything, it can result in a whole plethora of symptoms both physical or mental while at the same time not really at all resulting in you being inherently evil or enslaved by Chaos powers. We never know what exact role Chaos plays for Skaven, other than them being universally worshippers of the Great Horned Rat and some inexact mythology, it can mean anything and nothing, can be minor and major. Skaven are not daemons, they have relatively stable societies and physiology, unlike the usual Chaos mutants, they do not draw that much from Chaos itself rather drawing from products of it such as warpstone and winds of magic, their “aspects” are arguably socially constructed rather than born out of Chaos, they have souls that belong to them until they die. So we don’t know their Chaos “grade”, it also doesn’t mean much out of context and they are not at all daemonic, while being stable species unlike Beastmen and Chaos mutants. In absence of nuance to this question and general inconsistency and indifference of Great Horned Rat towards his own followers (unlike other Chaos Gods that will influence their followers in rather certain ways), it’s natural to assume a very plausible, simpler and creativity-inducing alternative explanation for their behavior as the ground truth.

Yet again, I present you with an environment that presents behavioral patterns as distributions and varieties, very heavily biased towards self-preservation, antagonism, avarice, betrayal and extreme power-seeking. Nevertheless their psyches are not set in stone and not completely incapable of “good” traits, it’s just that nothing ever cultivates or reproduces those traits, as having them usually just leads to dying sooner than the others for not having the same tenacity for survival and power. This framework again gives us much more leeway to create different characters with different emotions and motivations, while presenting an explanation that both is much more plausible and interesting than “they all have evil in their genes”, while not taking or majorly changing the Skaven at large.

So, what role do these assumptions play in my fiction? Without expanding too much into the world building that I will perhaps write about in the later posts, two groups of Skaven figure in my story.

One is where the main characters come from, those are Skaven inhabiting a part of Blight City that is isolated from the rest of it by a mix of toxic wasteland and realm of chaos bursting through the cracks of reality. This area is a part of an ancient junkyard for failed Skryre technology, which is the only source of warpstone that area has, being otherwise very poor in it. The Skaven inhabiting it are the renegade clans, clans that lost in warfare, fell out of power, were proscribed by the Council, etc. These renegade clans, while very resourceful in their own regard, do not readily have the same access to many of the technologies that are commonly produced in the industrial centers of the Blight City. However, this lack of warpstone and having to procreate mostly naturally resulted in the Skaven of this area growing up a little bit slower and having the lifespans that often exceed a decade, more if extremely lucky.

Much much later the characters would also encounter a clan of Skaven inside of the Mortal Realms, abandoned to its fate hundreds of years ago in a location that magically makes it very hard to maintain stable gnawholes. This led to the clan having to rely on the local realmstone instead of warpstone, while gradually losing a lot of technological advancements and social structures present for the overall Skaven. When the characters find them, they have completely regressed into a neolithic primal state. While they still continue a lot of the traditions we find evil, the Great Horned Rat worship, sacrifices, warrior culture-related violence, etc, they at the same time are depicted to be much more physically healthy and survivable, living longer lives and procreating slower, while additionally being generally much more cooperative, even if hierarchy is still being upheld with violence, kratocracy-like.

#skaven #warhammer fantasy #age of sigmar #fanfiction #warhammer

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