#Noticing Prologue

[fl00mie]

something i did when i saw a post of joku talking about this topic: it's an interesting concept but practically impossible because nothing stops artists from continuing to create (this is convenient for ink), based on this i tried to adjust the words of the creator of dreamtale herself to her characters under an objective truth— there is no limit to the multiverse

here's the post and the translation

[lunareel]

Prologue: Page 7

Click on images to make them larger/better quality!

Posting this much later than I wanted today, but it is what it is. Anyway and more importantly, the fight begins!

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Chapter Master Post

[sage-nebula]

In season 1, Powder/Jinx was viewed by most as a screw-up, and a monster.

In season 2, Jinx will be viewed by most as a monster, and a revolutionary symbol.

In neither season did the majority opinion see her as a person. Those who did care about her as a person — Vander, Vi, Ekko (though he tried hard not to in arcs 2 & 3), and Silco, in that order — were heavily outnumbered by those who only saw her as the consequences of her actions, and not the eccentric, brilliant, but heavily traumatized and mentally ill girl she actually was.

There are some people who are angry that she is being seen as a revolutionary or peaceful symbol in Zaun. "It should be Vi!" they say. "How could they do this to Ekko?!" But here is what those people are missing:

Symbols are not people. They are iconography. A symbol can last long, long after its origin has died. Hence why doves are symbols; they can die fast, but their paintings last forever. This means that it does not matter at all to Zaun what happens to Jinx, in any way, once she is their symbol; even if she dies, that just makes her a martyr. Even better if it's an enforcer that kills her. (I could see Sevika arranging that.)

Jinx is just as alone now as she ever was. Symbols need to stay pure. Meaning that Jinx's off-color jokes and wild actions will need to be short leashed or she could risk losing that status. Even IF she feels this gives her community, she'll lose that real fast.

This is not the face of a girl who feels she is among friends:

And that is simply because she isn't. They don't know her. They don't need to know her. They need her to do her part (be the face on the murals, the martyr when we need it) and that's it. Jinx's action of blowing up the council was loved. But Jinx herself? No.

This is not an enviable position and it isn't going to benefit her, at least not in terms of her mental wellbeing. Jinx needs real unconditional love and support—what she got from Silco in his final moments, not the empty veneration of the masses who view her as an icon rather than a human being.

[dancingafterdark]

snippet from a draft of a new wip

@hiemaldesirae i blame u :D

[multi-lefaiye]

snippet sunday - sunbringer's song

WOOOOO wowie wow wow!!!! okay, yeah, i am *very* close to finishing the prologue, but it's not quite done. but!! i wanted to share a bit of what i've gotten done for snippet sunday.

(or should i say... sunbringer sunday........ yeah i'll see myself out.)

content warnings for this excerpt: eye trauma, worms, worms going in someone against their will. y'know, bg3 prologue things. the actual gore isn't described in a lot of detail, but it's still very visceral because i'm focusing heavily on what eden is *feeling* in the moment. if any of that is an issue, please tread lightly !

writing / eden's fanclub taglist: @vacantgodling @skitzo-kero @anexor @chaieyestea @invaderskoodge

@kk7-rbs @albatris @corvus-rose @paradoxspir1t @moonflowerrss

@astral-runic @yourlocal-lichen @void-botanist

A worm--a terrible, spiny creature, hissing and writhing in the mind flayer’s grasp. It snaps its jaws full of jagged teeth, and the freezing dread in his veins splinters as his heart leaps into his throat.

For what feels like several long, agonizing hours, the mind flayer lowers the worm down toward his face. He struggles, in vain, to jerk his head away, but whatever force is keeping his eye open holds him firmly in place. There’s nothing he can do.

A heartbeat passes, and the worm is on his face, his skin itching at the feeling of its claws.

Another, and it rears up, snapping its teeth as it drools in frantic anticipation.

And then, it dives into his open eye.

Half of his vision explodes, bloody and hot and agonizing like nothing he has ever felt before. He can’t see what’s happening, but he can feel every stab of the little monster’s teeth and pinprick claws as it rips into him. It’s a million fire-tipped needles slicing and tearing open his flesh, burrowing into his skull.

He wants so badly to scream, but no sound comes out as he thrashes about in his coffin. But the mind flayer is still holding him in place, watching him impassively as he bites back pained sobs.

Some time passes, he can’t be sure how long, but eventually his vision begins to clear, bit by bit. His head is throbbing anew and his sight is blurry and streaked with red, but it seems the worm has come to a stop, resting just behind his eye.

He lets out a shuddering, whimpering breath, then bares his teeth and looks back up at the mind flayer. It’s still watching him. All he wants is to claw those beady fucking eyes out of its skull, to make it hurt like it’s making him hurt, but he still can’t move.

“Fuck you,” he bites out, each word a ragged clot of blood and glass shards in the back of his mouth. The mind flayer does not react. After a moment, it waves its hand, severing whatever strings held him in place, and he falls limply back into his coffin, his left eye snapping shut reflexively.

Another wave of its hand, and the lid closes with another hiss.

[finaltimelineau]

Henry, do the others know you can (or could? Used to?) reset?

[warmsol]

fuck it no one asked but after much consideration i’m gonna post lune prologue excerpts whenever i feel like it. won’t be a whole story, i swear.. just pieces of elia’s lore here and there in story form.

[tulipe-rose]

My contribution to the Dazai week 2024→ Day 1

"A good night's sleep isn't so bad sometimes..."

TW: Dazai typical suicide mentions, and sleep deprivation

This will include hcs, a little theory, and a little bit of platonic KuniZai. I deviated a little from the main point for the majority of the fic, but I tried ig TvT

Prologue

Dazai, and sleep.

Their relationship has been strained for as long as he could remember, and while it might not be saying much due to his usually awful memory, it was one of the things he had absolute certainty over when it came to himself.

He had always been a light sleeper, his body refusing to sleep anywhere with a fraction of light, feeling too vulnerable, and exposed, which prompted him to take an abandoned shipping container stationed at the Yokohama docks as a sleeping quarters. His Boss, Mōri Ōgai, tried to offer him a befitting apartment on numerous occasions, but Dazai always turned him down bluntly. Dazai preferred loathed the solitary atmosphere of the container, and found himself leaning towards not owning many material possessions; his suicidal tendancies came hand in hand with a minimalistic nature, since he believed his life would end up falling short in the end. This mindset carried over with him to later years, his current apartment, and over all lifestyle as proof.

Dazai's sleep schedule was mostly controlled by his mood, and assigned missions back in the day, usually dropping himself face first into his pillow after a mission that dragged out for too long, and he was absolutely beat; his naps never exceeded four hours because of either discomfort, or notice of another mission.

During the two year gap between his defection, and employment at the agency, Dazai's paranoia demon haunted him for days on end which prevented him from resting well, further worsening his mentality, and physical health; he ended up collapsing on the spot one day, so he started forcing himself into a sleeping state for just about long enough to keep himself alive.

Finally out of hiding he is, which leads us to now, where Dazai is a new hire at the armed detective agency, a very annoying loveable one to a dear co-worker amongst others at that, bringing his terrible relationship with this body necessity along with him as it presists.

____________________________________

It's been a few weeks since Dazai was hired at the armed detective agency, and since the azure apostle case was resolved. It is another tedious day on the job, or as tedious as it could get in their line of work, and as per usual Dazai is lounging about, doing anything but his job. He is humming tunes to his favorite song, he is reading his suicide hand book, and serving as an ever torturous pain to his co-worker, Kunikida Doppo, and his schedule.

Kunikida, and Dazai have fallen into a routinely set of arguments over the past few weeks that mostly entailed Kunikida punching sense into Dazai that didn't seem to ever reach into him, and the latter throwing back teasing remarks at the bespectacled man, laughing away at his partner's reaction.

Today the agency doesn't have any investigations sent it's way this far, so Dazai, and Kunikida were instead assigned to run a few errands that were pushed aside in favour of more urgent matters this week. The president entrusted them to get them done by the end of today, and Kunikida decided that he isn't going to disappoint, taking it upon himself to whip Dazai into not being a flaming disapointment for once by extension.

Dazai on the other hand was feeling exceptionally drowsy, not really caring much for the task, sleep was too hard these past few days; it was terrible to the point where he couldn't even force it– the blinds weren't enough to block out that detestable bright sign set up by their neighbors across the street. His eyes are droopier than usual, and his eye bags are slightly heavier, which went unnoticed by his colleague, for now. Dazai being himself managed to put up his usual playful, and teasing demeanor despite himself, already plotting ways to take down that wretched banner. Until then, he'll keep himself composed enough around his co-workers until office hours are over, won't be that hard.

After a verbal match between the two, Kunikida managed to get Dazai to finally leave the office.

“Kunikidaaa-kuuun!! I want to stop by the Cafeeee I heard they hired a beautiful waitress there! I need to ask her to a double suicide before someone beats me to it! I have a feeling she's the one~~”

“Have some decency, and stop harassing people!”

“But Kunikidaaa-kuun! It's not harassment!”

“Your definition of harassment is definitely distorted then!”

Dazai continued to give out a series of exaggerated complaints as they walked down the street, loudly crying about how unfair his partner is to him before pausing for a moment to let out a long yawn, much to Kunikida's already peaking irritation.

“Stop causing such noise pollution to your surroundings!! Your complaining is slowing us down, we're already a whole minute off schedule. We need to focus on our next destination–”

“The Cafe?”

“The post office." He gritted out “The president needed us to compose a letter to one of our clients, but she refuses to use technological means, so we'll have it sent the traditional way.”

They got through this errand fairly quickly, even with Dazai's background chatter being headache inducing. Kunikida's veins were a small shot away from popping.

Speaking of, Kunikida noticed something strange about his coworker, how overly chatty he was throughout the day, how back at the office, he'd been spacing out a little longer than usual before they left for their errand run. Kunikida wouldn't have paid it much mind if it weren't for those little moments when Dazai shut up, he was slightly swaying in his steps. Kunikida started observing him closely, noticing a slight change in his complexion, with it written all over his face I didn't sleep for over a week with his eyes being puffier than usual, and other obvious signs of lack of sleep.

Dazai shot him a teasing comment, something about his captivating face, which came out a little lower, and groggier than what he wished for; he exhausted too much energy into keeping himself awake, and it's backfiring on him now. He'd been pressing down the screams of fatigue that were killing him, begging him to just sit down somewhere, and maybe drop dead then, and there. With every step Dazai took, his brain threatened to shut down at any second. He pushed himself to keep it together since they were almost done, and didn't realize that he was falling moments later until it happened.

Kunikida reacted quickly, dropping the documents in his hands to catch Dazai's collapsing figure; his concerns were well placed after all. He pulled him onto his back adjusting the documents under his armpit, walking in a steady pace towards the agency, formulating an explanation in his head, along with plans to postpone the remaining work to tomorrow.

The sun has officially set on arriving at the agency dorms, with Kunikida passing by Dazai's apartment, and realizing he didn't have the key, in favour of not waking him up, the man of ideals headed towards his own home, planning to tend to his colleague, possibily letting him stay the night if he slept in, nothing but concern behind his actions.

Dazai woke up hours later, two hours before midnight, in a dark room, finding himself laying in an unfamiliar futon, an unfamiliar pillow below his head, and an unfamiliar blanket on top of him. He sat up feeling quite stiff, and dizzy, yet miles better from his condition prior to his collapse. His coat was neatly folded at his side, which prompted a small smile on his face. He went to the door, and found it unlocked as expected. He stepped out, and headed towards the living room to find his idealist colleague sitting at the sofa with a small book in his hands.

Kunikida acknowledged Dazai's presence, and looked up at him with a seriously concerned look on his face.

“If you hadn't been feeling well, you could've said something, you idiot. I got sensei to look at you, and she said you'll be fine after some good sleep.”

Dazai smiled sheepishly, and it felt near genuine.

“Would my dear colleague mind hosting me for the night then?”

“Is there something wrong with your apartment? You don't seem to have slept for a good while.”

Dazai was silent for a moment, contemplating his next words, ultimately deciding that the truth wouldn't hurt. He'd be honest this one time because the man in front of him, with his manner of speech right now reminded him far too much of an old friend, but he wouldn't admit it.

“The sign across the street was pretty irritating, I couldn't sleep well because the light kept getting in my eyes.”

“Then I'll see what we can do, you can stay until then I suppose. Don't do anything stupid.”

“Yessir! No promises though.” With a soldier-like salute, and a robotic march to the room.

Kunikida sighed as he watched the man retreat to the bedroom, then picking up his notebook to add discuss the sign situation with the store across the street to his schedule for tomorrow, praying that Dazai would be cooperative since it concerned him.

Dazai meanwhile rested his head onto the comfortable pillow, the darkness surrounding him, the strangely reassuring presence of his colleague, and the comforting quiet lulled him to sleep like a lullaby sung to a baby. The next morning rolled around like nothing, and for the first time in years, Dazai felt refreshed.

“A good night's sleep isn't so bad sometimes...”

---------------------

Sjjdjwdjwb it's finally doneeeee I would've written a mini epilogue/bonus part if it weren't for how freaking late I am. I've never written Kunikida, and I'm bad at writing Dazai, but this mackerel deserves his bday presents. I'm excited to write the romance prompt 🤭.

[twin-yards]

A MIRROR = BLUE

[justarandomlambblog]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 [END]

The love story of a mortal and an immortal is always doomed to end in tragedy, but even just a little more time would have meant everything...

And that's Narinder's prologue for this au sketched out. Also yes that's a cat he's just got small rounded ears instead of long sharp ears <3

Explanation of the story under the cut (this time with some dialogue!)

During a festival, someone runs up to Narinder saying a stranger has come to the village, and he's wounded. Narinder recognizes the cloak he wears as being that of a Darkwood cultist, so Narinder takes the injured cat to his home to take care of him, and also to confront him without anyone else there. Narinder finds that he's brought a book of the Old Faith with him.

The stranger wakes up and notices Narinder immediately. Narinder confronts him about the book he's brought with him, and the fact that he's a follower of the Old Faith. The cat explains that he actually ran away, seeing no point in killing and fighting and living and dying for a god who is already dead (awkward considering Leshy is very much alive again and loyal to the Lamb by this time, but neither of them know this), but that his old family outed him as a dissenter and he was chased/attacked on his way out. Narinder accepts this explanation but gives a stern warning to the newcomer;

"These are godless lands and we bow to no one. There will be no talk of the Old or New Faiths, no talks of gods, no preaching. And this book stays in this room so long as you're in this village, got it?"

Narinder drops the book into the side table, then tells the newcomer that he's welcome to stay as long as he wants/needs so long as he doesn't bring talk of gods into the village itself. The newcomer accepts this easily enough- he ran away from the Old Faith, after all, he only brought the book by happenstance.

Narinder gives the stranger clothes and shows him around the village, introducing him to people (and translating for both sides, as the newcomer does not speak the godless language and the godless don't speak the language of the Faithful). Time passes, and the newcomer stays even when he's healed, slotting himself into the daily routine of the village. Narinder begins slowly teaching him about their culture, once it becomes clear that he doesn't intend to leave; he shows him how to take care of the feral beasts, teaches him how to make paper lanterns for their lantern festival, teaches him their dances, and eventually even gives him an ear piercing, the same as anyone who comes of age inside or is accepted into the village from outside gets. It's essentially the moment that he becomes an accepted part of the village, an acknowledgement that he is one of them now; no longer an outsider, no longer a cultist but one of the godless.

One day, Narinder's friend (as by this time he cannot really be called a newcomer and ofc I don't have a name for him...) confesses to Narinder, and Narinder realizes all at once that if he wants to pursue this... thing he and his friend have going on, he needs to tell him the truth.

So Narinder does it in the most dramatic sad wet cat way he can; he brings out the book that's sat gathering dust inside the drawer for well over a year now and finds the entry on the Red Crown and the One Who Waits. The "Friend" is confused at first before looking at Narinder and realizing that Narinder is the One Who Waits- a fallen god of the Old Faith, and arguably the most powerful of all of the Old gods.

And... he doesn't care. Narinder is Narinder, not the Bishop of Death after all. He just tosses the book- something once sacred in the cult he was born into- aside and expresses that he doesn't care; it doesn't matter who Narinder used to be, or the crimes he committed in the past, because he loves the person Narinder is now. Narinder accepts his confession with this acceptance.

Time passes. They marry, with Narinder presenting a marriage charm to him, much to his delight. They start a family- first child they name Ari, the second Elloi, and the third Minuit, all a few years apart in age.

And for just a little bit- everything is perfect. Even though Narinder's immortality hangs over him like a shroud, he takes every day a moment at a time, and he's happier than he's been in a long, long time.

Then one night they're woken by the sound of crashing and screams. They're a little freaked out, because it's been so long for both of them but they recognize that sound- they've just both been on the other side of it. Opening the curtains confirms Narinder's fears; there's a raid happening on their village, the same way gods and their cults once crusaded against each other and razed entire settlements in a bid for power. Buildings are burning, people are running and screaming and crying, some people are dead, and robe-clad people very reminiscent of cultists and heretics bear weapons and chase people down, uncaring of whether they're old, young or children.

Narinder scoops up the baby- only a few months old and crying in fear- while his husband rushes to grab their older kits, only to find their beds empty. Panic sets in, and rather than running into the forest (to hide and hopefully avoid the attackers) like they initially planned, they rush into the village to look for their daughters. Narinder comes face to face with a cultist, and has a moment where he remembers Shamura teaching him offensive magic- before they even had the crowns, back when it was just them and the magic they were born with. Chains, which he hasn't seen or felt in nearly a hundred years at this point, shoot up at his command, spearing through and instantly killing his would-be attacker.

His husband, somewhere along the way, loses the dagger he'd always carried while fighting cultists. He spots their daughters on the ground, holding onto each other and crying in fear while a cultist raises a sword. Instinct kicks in and he rushes to them, throwing himself between his kits and their attacker- too afraid that attacking them would still end up with his kits hit by the sword.

Narinder hears his kits scream and turns in time to see his husband collapse, mortally wounded (he did take a sword for someone who was in front of him, that shit went DEEP), and in a moment of horror reaches out with his magic, spearing their attacker with the chain before they can turn their attention to the kits again. He runs over, dropping down by his husband's side, and pulls him into his lap. His husband manages to smile at him, saying some final words before dying in his family's arms.

Grief hits Narinder hard, and his magic lashes out; withering lines of decay snake through the village, the grass crumbling and the earth itself cracking in the wake of his magic. It targets the cultists while avoiding the villagers, and the cultists begin rotting and turning to dust right on the spot, whether they are bodies on the ground or living beings in the middle of swinging an axe. All at once the tables are turned, their attackers reduced to ash and blood on the ground and in the wind, and careful to avoid the lines, slowly the bravest of the villagers follow the decaying earth to its epicenter; Narinder and his once-again-broken family.

None of the villagers fear Narinder, even like this. All they feel is grief; grief for what has happened to their village, grief for their neighbors and loved ones, grief for the families that have been lost, grief for what the future holds for them. They share in his grief, but they realize something in that moment; Narinder can actually do something with his grief.

A few days pass and the dead have been buried. Narinder and his older kits pay respects to his husband's grave, and some villagers approach to give their condolences and also ask; "What now?"

He looks back, listening to their worries. With his third eye open and with him reaching out to them with his own magic, he notices for the first time that some of them have a certain... energy about them. Some have more than others; some's energy is lashing out, while others' are gentle, and some are... reaching back to him. He realizes that this energy is magic- the same thing Shamura saw in him and the others, thousands of years ago, when they decided to train them.

He remembers Shamura telling him something now, when he asked why they taught him and the others to fight and use magic when they clearly wanted to keep them all safe; "Sometimes the best way to protect those you love is teach them to protect themselves."

He takes this lesson to heart now; the village must learn to fight, so that they will never be made victims again.

"We rebuild. We learn to wield swords." He summons a flame into his hand, holding it out for the villagers who have turned to him in this time of hardship to see. "And those of you who are capable of magic- I will teach it to you.

"What has happened here will not happen again."

[solargeist]

thank you for convincing me to play in stars and time because omg it is so good

YAYYYY YIPPIE ITS SO GOOD i did all the achievements i love it so much, i hope you have fun !!!

[robo-dino-puppy]

horizon forbidden west | aloy 87/?

[yantao-enthusiast]

can some fucking people stop being to celebrities like “oh this person is either gay or queerbaiting because their personality is making me interpret them as queer because they act ‘stereotypically’ gay and that if you act like this you have to be queer. so we’re gonna either force this person to come out via peer pressure when they may not want to or be ready to or bully them for acting a certain way if they’re not queer because that’s the only way i can accept these people acting this way.” it’s really fucked up, based on toxic patriarchal values, and plain homophobic. analyze these parts about yourself and put a stop to it. it’s not funny. it’s not doing the lgbtq community a favor. it’s an asshole thing to do and you better be leaving that shit in 2023.

[deus-ex-mona]

flashtag ✨ignored✨

[blood-orange-juice]

To everyone joking that Narcissenkreuz story is shorter than the Aranara quests.

GUESS WHAT.

[luv-again]

starting to wonder how much of my plotting is actually relevant for this next piece

how crucial would a prologue be if it's just shadow appearing from digital circuit with the clear intention of searching for eggman, only to Not do that ??