#coral trickster

[mtg-cards-hourly]

Coral Trickster

They wait in darkened depths, laughing eagerly.

Artist: D. Alexander Gregory TCG Player Link Scryfall Link EDHREC Link

[dailymtgflavortext]

They wait in darkened depths, laughing eagerly. 

-Coral Trickster

Same.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Sympathy for the spammer

Catch me in Miami! I'll be at Books and Books in Coral Gables on Jan 22 at 8PM.

In any scam, any con, any hustle, the big winners are the people who supply the scammers – not the scammers themselves. The kids selling dope on the corner are making less than minimum wage, while the respectable crime-bosses who own the labs clean up. Desperate "retail investors" who buy shitcoins from Superbowl ads get skinned, while the MBA bros who issue the coins make millions (in real dollars, not crypto).

It's ever been thus. The California gold rush was a con, and nearly everyone who went west went broke. Famously, the only reliable way to cash out on the gold rush was to sell "picks and shovels" to the credulous, doomed and desperate. That's how Leland Stanford made his fortune, which he funneled into eugenics programs (and founding a university):

https://www.hachettebookgroup.com/titles/malcolm-harris/palo-alto/9780316592031/

That means that the people who try to con you are almost always getting conned themselves. Think of Multi-Level Marketing (MLM) scams. My forthcoming novel The Bezzle opens with a baroque and improbable fast-food Ponzi in the town of Avalon on the island of Catalina, founded by the chicle monopolist William Wrigley Jr:

http://thebezzle.org

Wrigley found fast food declasse and banned it from the island, a rule that persists to this day. In The Bezzle, the forensic detective Martin Hench uncovers The Fry Guys, an MLM that flash-freezes contraband burgers and fries smuggled on-island from the mainland and sells them to islanders though an "affiliate marketing" scheme that is really about recruiting other affiliate markets to sell under you. As with every MLM, the value of the burgers and fries sold is dwarfed by the gigantic edifice of finance fraud built around it, with "points" being bought and sold for real cash, which is snaffled up and sucked out of the island by a greedy mainlander who is behind the scheme.

A "bezzle" is John Kenneth Galbraith's term for "the magic interval when a confidence trickster knows he has the money he has appropriated but the victim does not yet understand that he has lost it." In every scam, there's a period where everyone feels richer – but only the scammers are actually cleaning up. The wealth of the marks is illusory, but the longer the scammer can preserve the illusion, the more real money the marks will pump into the system.

MLMs are particularly ugly, because they target people who are shut out of economic opportunity – women, people of color, working people. These people necessarily rely on social ties for survival, looking after each others' kids, loaning each other money they can't afford, sharing what little they have when others have nothing.

It's this social cohesion that MLMs weaponize. Crypto "entrepreneurs" are encouraged to suck in their friends and family by telling them that they're "building Black wealth." Working women are exhorted to suck in their bffs by appealing to their sisterhood and the chance for "women to lift each other up."

The "sales people" trying to get you to buy crypto or leggings or supplements are engaged in predatory conduct that will make you financially and socially worse off, wrecking their communities' finances and shattering the mutual aid survival networks they rely on. But they're not getting rich on this – they're also being scammed:

https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=4686468

This really hit home for me in the mid-2000s, when I was still editing Boing Boing. We had a submission form where our readers could submit links for us to look at for inclusion on the blog, and it was overwhelmed by spam. We'd add all kinds of antispam to it, and still, we'd get floods of hundreds or even thousands of spam submissions to it.

One night, I was lying in my bed in London and watching these spams roll in. They were all for small businesses in the rustbelt, handyman services, lawn-care, odd jobs, that kind of thing. They were 10 million miles from the kind of thing we'd ever post about on Boing Boing. They were coming in so thickly that I literally couldn't finish downloading my email – the POP session was dropping before I could get all the mail in the spool. I had to ssh into my mail server and delete them by hand. It was maddening.

Frustrated and furious, I started calling the phone numbers associated with these small businesses, demanding an explanation. I assumed that they'd hired some kind of sleazy marketing service and I wanted to know who it was so I could give them a piece of my mind.

But what I discovered when I got through was much weirder. These people had all been laid off from factories that were shuttering due to globalization. As part of their termination packages, their bosses had offered them "retraining" via "courses" in founding their own businesses.

The "courses" were the precursors to the current era's rise-and-grind hustle-culture scams (again, the only people getting rich from that stuff are the people selling the courses – the "students" finish the course poorer). They promised these laid-off workers, who'd given their lives to their former employers before being discarded, that they just needed to pull themselves up by their own boostraps:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/10/declaration-of-interdependence/#solidarity-forever

After all, we had the internet now! There were so many new opportunities to be your own boss! The course came with a dreadful build-your-own-website service, complete with an overpriced domain sales portal, and a single form for submitting your new business to "thousands of search engines."

This was nearly 20 years ago, but even then, there was really only one search engine that mattered: Google. The "thousands of search engines" the scammers promised to submit these desperate peoples' websites to were just submission forms for directories, indexes, blogs, and mailing lists. The number of directories, indexes, blogs and mailing lists that would publish their submissions was either "zero" or "nearly zero." There was certainly no possibility that anyone at Boing Boing would ever press the wrong key and accidentally write a 500-word blog post about a leaf-raking service in a collapsing deindustrialized exurb in Kentucky or Ohio.

The people who were drowning me in spam weren't the scammers – they were the scammees.

But that's only half the story. Years later, I discovered how our submission form was getting included in this get-rich-quick's mass-submission system. It was a MLM! Coders in the former Soviet Union were getting work via darknet websites that promised them relative pittances for every submission form they reverse-engineered and submitted. The smart coders didn't crack the forms directly – they recruited other, less business-savvy coders to do that for them, and then often as not, ripped them off.

The scam economy runs on this kind of indirection, where scammees are turned into scammers, who flood useful and productive and nice spaces with useless dross that doesn't even make them any money. Take the submission queue at Clarkesworld, the great online science fiction magazine, which famously had to close after it was flooded with thousands of junk submission "written" by LLMs:

https://www.npr.org/2023/02/24/1159286436/ai-chatbot-chatgpt-magazine-clarkesworld-artificial-intelligence

There was a zero percent chance that Neil Clarke would accidentally accept one of these submissions. They were uniformly terrible. The people submitting these "stories" weren't frustrated sf writers who'd discovered a "life hack" that let them turn out more brilliant prose at scale.

They were scammers who'd been scammed into thinking that AIs were the key to a life of passive income, a 4-Hour Work-Week powered by an AI-based self-licking ice-cream cone:

https://pod.link/1651876897/episode/995c8a778ede17d2d7cff393e5203157

This is absolutely classic passive-income brainworms thinking. "I have a bot that can turn out plausible sentences. I will locate places where sentences can be exchanged for money, aim my bot at it, sit back, and count my winnings." It's MBA logic on meth: find a thing people pay for, then, without bothering to understand why they pay for that thing, find a way to generate something like it at scale and bombard them with it.

Con artists start by conning themselves, with the idea that "you can't con an honest man." But the factor that predicts whether someone is connable isn't their honesty – it's their desperation. The kid selling drugs on the corner, the mom desperately DMing her high-school friends to sell them leggings, the cousin who insists that you get in on their shitcoin – they're all doing it because the system is rigged against them, and getting worse every day.

These people reason – correctly – that all the people getting really rich are scamming. If Amazon can make $38b/year selling "ads" that push worse products that cost more to the top of their search results, why should the mere fact that an "opportunity" is obviously predatory and fraudulent disqualify it?

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/29/aethelred-the-unready/#not-one-penny-for-tribute

The quest for passive income is really the quest for a "greater fool," the economist's term for the person who relieves you of the useless crap you just overpaid for. It rots the mind, atomizes communities, shatters solidarity and breeds cynicism:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/24/passive-income/#swiss-cheese-security

The rise and rise of botshit cannot be separated from this phenomenon. The botshit in our search-results, our social media feeds, and our in-boxes isn't making money for the enshittifiers who send it – rather, they are being hustled by someone who's selling them the "picks and shovels" for the AI gold rush:

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2024/jan/03/botshit-generative-ai-imminent-threat-democracy

That's the true cost of all the automation-driven unemployment criti-hype: while we're nowhere near a place where bots can steal your job, we're certainly at the point where your boss can be suckered into firing you and replacing you with a bot that fails at doing your job:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/11/robots-stole-my-jerb/#computer-says-no

The manic "entrepreneurs" who've been stampeded into panic by the (correct) perception that the economy is a game of musical chairs where the number of chairs is decreasing at breakneck speed are easy marks for the Leland Stanfords of AI, who are creating generational wealth for themselves by promising that their bots will automate away all the tedious work that goes into creating value. Expect a lot more Amazon Marketplace products called "I'm sorry, I cannot fulfil this request as it goes against OpenAI use policy":

https://www.theverge.com/2024/1/12/24036156/openai-policy-amazon-ai-listings

No one's going to buy these products, but the AI picks-and-shovels people will still reap a fortune from the attempt. And because history repeats itself, these newly minted billionaires are continuing Leland Stanford's love affair with eugenics:

https://www.truthdig.com/dig-series/eugenics/

The fact that AI spam doesn't pay is important to the fortunes of AI companies. Most high-value AI applications are very risk-intolerant (self-driving cars, radiology analysis, etc). An AI tool might help a human perform these tasks more accurately – by warning them of things that they've missed – but that's not how AI will turn a profit. There's no market for AI that makes your workers cost more but makes them better at their jobs:

https://locusmag.com/2023/12/commentary-cory-doctorow-what-kind-of-bubble-is-ai/

Plenty of people think that spam might be the elusive high-value, low-risk AI application. But that's just not true. The point of AI spam is to get clicks from people who are looking for better content. It's SEO. No one reads 2000 words of algorithm-pleasing LLM garbage over an omelette recipe and then subscribes to that site's feed.

And the omelette recipe generates pennies for the spammer that posted it. They are doing massive volume in order to make those pennies into dollars. You don't make money by posting one spam. If every spammer had to pay the actual recovery costs (energy, chillers, capital amortization, wages) for their query, every AI spam would lose (lots of) money.

Hustle culture and passive income are about turning other peoples' dollars into your dimes. It is a negative-sum activity, a net drain on society. Behind every seemingly successful "passive income" is a con artist who's getting rich by promising – but not delivering – that elusive passive income, and then blaming the victims for not hustling hard enough:

https://www.ftc.gov/business-guidance/blog/2023/12/blueprint-trouble

I'm Kickstarting the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There's also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/15/passive-income-brainworms/#four-hour-work-week

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[theic-manic]

Hellenic polytheism tip: ask Hermes to guide your shopping

Hermes will help you purchase things either for now or later.

Before I devoted myself to Apollo and was still casually worshipping him, I found a shirt at a thrift store that I wouldn't normally buy or wear anywhere but I felt drawn to it.

So I started wearing it initially to attract wealth and abundance, wearing it on warm sunny weekends and this was right before last year's solar eclipse in the northern hemisphere.

(Synchronicity penny just dropped: last weekend I watched a horror movie featuring a Solar Eclipse & Apollo showed me an online shopping page... I'll link below.)

Anyway once I established myself as Apollo's devotee rather than worshipper, I started wearing this shirt on Sundays as a devotional act for him.

The shirt:

(I'm tired so please excuse my face)

Last year while thrift shopping I found some cute cherub tea light candle holders, which isn't something I typically get either.

This was during a period where Hermes was being his trickster self & larping as Hekate (the spider in my towel head wrap is such an obvious sign looking back) but I was like "odd, this doesn't feel like hekate" so I packed then away.

Recently, while reorganising my bedroom I took them out and had a closer look.

There's a Lyre on each candle holder.

I asked Apollo if he'd like them on his altar.

Yes.

Another time, while shopping with Hermes I asked Ares if he liked a bag Hermes helped me pick out.

Ares complimented it so then immediately Hermes found me a "War Collection" box for my Ares altar ☺️

So let Hermes guide your shopping (set a boundary that he doesn't send you broke because one weekend he kept showing me a bunch of antiques and I'm like MATE I AM NOT RICH... yet)

E.g. when Hermes had me spend my annual leave buying a bunch of LEDs and a damn Asus Rog Ally hand-held PC for his altar as a thank-you for him gifting me with a year's worth of free coffee + $10k AUD

Hermes altar, the hand-held gaming PC he had me dedicate to him and the smol llama plush that now lives on said altar... (I still think it needs a name other than "Lola")

The second-hand coral pink Nintendo Switch that Hermes and Apollo had me go and buy my disabled housemate to make their medical appointments easier after the aforementioned winnings + Hermes helping me make $500 profit after calling my phone company out on predatory sales tactics and threatening to drag them to the telecommunications ombudsman.

I included a case I no longer use and some games I no longer play, as well as an LED charging cable.

Hermes finding me a Hermes-coded bag and a war box for Ares

Apollo being real subtle showing me eclipse mints next to a certain book title after watching a horror movie about a solar eclipse

Warning:

Hermes is also the God of thievery (I was extremely good at shoplifting during my youth that I once stole a 2L bottle of bourbon while wearing nothing but a bikini and a sarong) and he did once make a shopkeeper forget to charge me for almost $200 worth of thrift store merchandise however Apollo will absolutely drag you for such acts and so if you work with Apollo or other justice inclined gods, steal at your own risk.

[peachtinzz]

very brief dnd au musings because the rot consumes and all that

elaboration below the cut!

i thought gerry as an unaware sorcerer could be neat, only fully coming into his power after the eye “recognizes” him as an avatar. the draconic bloodline sorcerer typing is because im kind of in love with the idea of the fears as dragons …. perhaps not on an entirely physical level but i like the idea of them presenting as dragons at least. also eric is the tiefling and mary is the elf!

i also think gerry would lean away from tapping into that bloodline magic as much as possible, preferring to use his skills as a rogue and learned arcane trickster magic since it’s something he himself earned and doesn’t require the use of the eye’s power. though that bloodline magic would for sure bleed into his arcane trickster abilities. some kind of visual signifier for that would be neat but im not entirely sure what it would be yet (probably eye tattoos lighting up or smthn, but i also think those as a general arcane focus could be cool also). his cantrips would be mage hand, lightning lure, minor illusion, and green flame blade (lvl 10+)!

i initially struggled with michael’s race and class but eventually decided on him being a firbolg for the giant ancestry (tall freaking guy) and motm describing firbolg magic as “the obscuring sort”, which reminded me of how people usually see michael as marked by the lonely! he also just has inherent fey vibes to me. not entirely sold on scribes wizard for him but it seemed the most fitting class/subclass for him. i had initially thought about him being a cleric, but he doesn’t have enough religious boy vibes for me personally to make him one (though if he were to be one i think he’d be a peace domain cleric). scribes felt fitting enough for the institute, and none of the wizard schools felt like vibes enough for him either. overall though i think he’d be a support based caster with the message, prestidigitation, light, gust (lvl 5+), and toll the dead (lvl 13+) cantrips

the magic colors/smells are just a personal thing for me! i love it when magic is sensory. to be specific, i think gerry would have a deeper olivey green pre eye avatar recognition that turns classic magnus green afterwards. michael would have a coral pink sort of color that glitters gold!

may or may not make full designs for them at some point or designs for other characters, who knows

[khalixvitae]

★Under The Skin ★

Rook Hunt x Reader | ~3k words

Warnings: mentions of death and dying (not descriptive), a smattering of angst but we don’t have time to unpack all that; semi suggestive at points because I cannot seem to help myself; mentions of book 6 but nothing too descriptive! Reader is also implied to know Floyd. Vaguely canon compliant, takes place ambiguously after book 6

Info: I’ve been obsessed w the idea of Rook w an implied goth reader who collects bones and makes bone jewelry. Entirely self indulgent (i am goth and I collect bones and make jewelry Lmao). GN reader, no physical descriptors used other than that the reader wears jewelry.

——————————————————————————

Rook Hunt was an odd duck, you’d always known that much for certain. He was hyper observant and yet seemingly unaware of social norms, constantly invading the personal space of those around him. Ever the chatterbox, he’d seamlessly suck any passersby into a whirlwind of a conversation, gleaning whatever information or entertainment he’d sought out before discarding his still confused target with a friendly adieu. He would regularly monologue, lyricize, and wax poetic about even the most mundane of things. Frankly it was difficult not to notice such glaring personality traits- he had a habit of making his eccentricities everyone’s business.

Even so, his outlandish tendencies and flowery language only further obscured what kind of person he was hiding beneath the surface (and beneath that bizarre hat). He was in Pomefiore, after all- and a Vice housewarden no less. It only made sense that his public persona, as bewildering as it may have seemed, was carefully crafted by his dexterous hands. Always guiding the conversation away from himself with a practiced ease, it was obvious he sought to keep any clear image of his character permanently out of focus. He was like a mirage- not quite tangible, his perimeter fuzzy and constructed only of contradictory statements or nearly mythological anecdotes. No matter how hard you tried to get a peek behind the veil, he was always just out of sight. You had always been certain that the trajectory of any arrow fired by those same hands would be far straighter, cleaner, than any conversation you could ever hope to have with the huntsman.

Which is what made your current situation all the more unexpected.

“And this one?” His eyes darted to another one of the many trinkets you’d scattered across your bed. Lithe fingers hesitated over the pendant he’d zeroed in on, an owlish gaze flickering up to meet your own. He wanted permission. How very unlike himself, you thought. Or perhaps it was more like him than he’d ever been in your presence- you had no way of knowing, of course. You pushed the thought away and instead nodded affirmatively. He plucked the necklace from the duvet, its weight remembered by an indentation in the plush down.

“Yeah, I found that amber while digging around on the beach with Ace and Deuce. I’d never seen inclusions like that before. It just needed a little polishing up and it made for a really nice piece. The other stones are tigers eye- I got those online.” He held the petrified resin up to the sunbeams streaming through your bedroom window, nodding affirmatively as you spoke.

“Magnifique! How lucky you are, mon Trickster.” He rolled the stones between his fingers, a musical lilt coloring his speech. “You have quite the collection- a proper Cabinet des Merveilles.”

You shrugged at that, glancing down at the innumerable treasures you’d accumulated. Well, treasures was a subjective title to say the least. Bones or teeth belonging to unknown animals, each fragment you’d found in the woods and painstakingly cleaned to later preserve. Carefully dried flowers from plants you’d never seen prior to your arrival in Twisted Wonderland, as well as some familiar varieties you’d taken comfort in coming across. Sea glass, petrified coral, and iridescent shells you’d collected on trips to the coast with your friends. A shadow box of butterfly specimens found around the school’s botanical gardens, each one you’d mounted with care. Evidence of your time there, proof of your experiences and your memories and your love for a foreign place you’d slowly made home.

When you managed to untangle yourself from your own sentimentality, you realized he was watching you. He was waiting. His vibrant green eyes were too green in the early evening light, shining like pools of opaque, still wet oil paint.

“I’m glad you like them,” you answered simply, your voice far more hoarse than you’d anticipated. The bizarre nature of your situation only hit you further when he shifted his weight, his attention now focused solely on you- as if you were a specimen in your own collection.

All of this because he’d inquired about your earrings in homeroom.

They were simple things, really. Pretty green glass beads strung together with tiny bones you’d unearthed on one of your many hikes. They had belonged to something small, and you were certain the delicate pieces were vertebrae. It was a wonder they were so intact- however despite their relatively pristine condition, you had no idea what creature they’d belonged to.

You figured they’d caught the light just right, or maybe you’d tilted your head just so- it didn’t take much to catch the hunter’s attention, after all. Whatever the case, halfway through the lesson you’d noticed his keen eyes on you. Your recognition did nothing to deter his blatant staring; in fact, he’d waved at you. As strange as it may have been, you didn’t pay it much mind. Rook was odd, sure, but he’d never done anything outright malicious. Well, not towards you. This kind of behavior was well within his usual repertoire and therefore easy enough to ignore.

In much the same way, it wasn’t totally unexpected for him to descend upon you as soon as the bell rang for dismissal. Rook wasn’t an especially large guy, at least not compared to some of your other classmates. He was broad shouldered and sturdily built, sure, but he wasn’t a notable giant like Jack Howl. And yet something about Rook made him loom, an imposing presence despite his cheerful cadence and charismatic smile. He always toed a fine line, giving the impression that he was all over you without ever once making physical contact. Your encounter that day had been no different; he’d spouted off a laundry list of greetings and praises, only half of which you’d managed to catch, before dipping in closer to view your handiwork.

“Oh! Beau savoir-faire! Did you make these yourself, Trickster?” The way he’d honed in on the dangling vertebrae made you keenly aware of how they framed the vulnerable column of your throat; the equivalent to a neon sign for any apex predator, Rook himself included. Feeling ever more exposed, the rest of the conversation passed with a quickness you had grown to expect from the hunter. Before you knew it, you’d invited him to come by Ramshackle so he could view the rest of your collection. After all, it wasn’t often that someone took vested interest in your little hobby. Ace thought it was outright creepy. Shells were fine, and he could almost (almost) give the butterfly thing a pass, but bones were where he drew the line and made a point to tell you so. And tell you he did. Frequently. Deuce was less outright rude about his discomfort- he wasn’t Ace, after all- but the squeamish look on his face was enough to deter you from showing him any unusual specimens.

When you’d arrived home from classes that day, Rook was already on your doorstep. He looked excited, nearly childlike in his enthusiasm. You’d resolved to yourself then that letting him into Ramshackle would do no harm- Rook was strange, yes, but he was only as dangerous as the rest of your peers. He’d never been remotely unkind to you; in fact, he’d been extraordinarily helpful on more than one occasion. Besides, he was already there, patiently waiting for you on your own stoop. Turning him away now would be just plain rude, not to mention he often made pleasant company.

And so there you were, settled across from Rook Hunt of all people. Alone, in your otherwise desolate dorm- the Great Seven only knew where Grim had slinked off to when your guest arrived. Even the ghosts had made themselves scarce since you’d guided Rook to your bedroom. That being several hours prior, you were astonished that not a solitary soul had intruded upon your peace. Normally something or someone would’ve stirred up trouble for you by then, but the dormitory was silent. He was still silently observing you, and that exposed feeling from earlier in the day seeped back into your bones.

“The ones you’re wearing. May I look at them again? The lighting here is much better, no?” As always he sounded so sublimely agreeable, and it would’ve felt even more revealing to tell him no. Not that you wanted to tell him no, necessarily. If anything, you didn’t mind the thought of him getting closer. That was a damning thought you forced down immediately as you gave him the go ahead. He removed his hat and placed it somewhere beside him- you didn’t keep track of where, far too focused on his reasoning for doing so. He leaned in closer, so close in fact that the brim of his trademark accessory would’ve prevented him from achieving the proximity.

“Snake vertebrae,” he murmured, as if identifying them didn’t take a moment’s thought. “And my, how wonderfully preserved! You’re quite talented, mon Trickster.” His breath grazed your cheek as he spoke, words ringing impossibly close to your ear. The sudden thought that he smelled nice passed over you, only serving to grow your list of absolutely damning thoughts about Rook Hunt. The subsequent realization that there was a list to begin with would have made your blood run cold had the heat of your embarrassment not warmed you down to your bones.

You briefly recalled one of Floyd Leech’s many complaints he’d voiced to you on your living room floor. He’d dropped in uninvited, if memory served you right, but you’d digress for the moment. You weren’t sure of the full context- you didn’t make point to pay that much attention when Floyd was in one of his moods- but what you did remember was a rather innocuous detail he’d given you about the hunter sitting on your bed. That he only wore perfumes when he wanted to be noticed. Of course Floyd’s delivery had been much more coarse and insulting, but nonetheless. And the herbal, nearly floral scent you’d caught was definitely cosmetic, you were sure of that. So he wanted to be noticed by you, then? Another idea to add to your ever growing list.

The soft shuffling of leather brought your senses back into sharp focus. He’d removed one of his gloves, brandishing his bare hand in your line of sight. “May I?”

You nodded silently, watching it for as long as you could. A gentle tug on your earring let you know he was turning the charms around, looking it over carefully with those unnerving eyes of his. Wheatgrass strands of his cropped hair tickled your skin, but you held as still as one of the courtyard statues.

When he finally sat back he looked more than pleased. “Your finds are most impressive,” he chittered, tapping his bare fingers against his gloved ones. You watched them for a moment, taking note of the practiced calluses on each exposed fingertip- marks of his upbringing that even Vil’s carefully coordinated skincare routines couldn’t fully erase.

“But why do you collect them?”

The question wasn’t entirely unexpected- it was quite common for people to be curious about what motivated such a strange hobby. What was unexpected though was the glint in his eye. Something hopeful and genuine brewed behind his placid expression, something you couldn’t quite place but intended to figure out.

“Because they’re beautiful,” you replied, far surer and more steadfast than you’d been moments before.

“Even though they’re dead?” He raised a manicured eyebrow at you expectantly, the shine of his eyes catching the sun’s last bright rays.

“Of course. I mean why wouldn’t they be? It’s not like death itself is innately ugly. And dead things aren’t either.” It was your turn to lean forward, soaking up his expression that wasn’t all that unlike surprise.

A quiet laugh bubbled up past his lips. “So you do not fear death, then?”

You shook your head, matching the soft smile he offered you in exchange for your thoughts. “Death, no. Dying? Absolutely. Dying has a sensation- well, probably, its not like I’ve done it before- and that’s what I’m afraid of. What it feels like. I’m way more impartial when it comes to death itself. Mostly because it’s also impartial. It just is. It’s not malicious, or calculating. It’s just there.”

You brushed a hand over your trinkets, choosing your next words carefully. “I guess the only scary part about death is that when you’re dead, you run the risk of being forgotten. I mean, that’s why stuff like ruins and run down cemeteries are a thing. It’s not that those things don’t matter anymore because they’re dead, but because they’ve been forgotten about. Bones are a lot like that. Just because they aren’t up and moving anymore doesn’t mean they just cease to exist. The thought of dead things being forgotten about… bothers me? I guess? Especially when they’re beautiful things. Because all beautiful things were loved at some point, even in passing.” Perhaps this was all getting a little too introspective. Part of you wondered if you were a forgotten thing back in your own world; what had your loved ones done? Sometimes you felt like a dead thing with no body, no grave for them to visit. Something that had truly ceased to exist outside the memory of those around you. You worried you were revealing far too much, however his wide eyes and parted lips were all the encouragement you’d needed to continue forward.

“So I like to find them and clean them up. Yeah they’re inanimate now, but they deserve to be remembered and loved, even if they’ve changed. And I do love them. They’re special to me, just like the times and places I found them.”

Rook was wound taut like a bowstring, his posture rigid and features affixed in an expression of unmistakable awe. And there he was. Suddenly his usual shifting demeanor was frozen in time. The smoke and mirrors he usually deployed were no longer in effect, and you were absolutely sure that you were getting an honest look at him. Staring at him like that, you could recall a few instances where you’d seen him in momentary clarity. When he’d jump to protect his juniors, or when he nearly took off alone during the STYX debacle, and when something would catch him so off guard he’d throw his head back in unpracticed laughter. This was that Rook. The prolonged sight made it hard to breathe.

The final fiery glows of the setting sun illuminated him, now uninterrupted by the wide brim of his hat that still lay discarded on your bed. In the warm evening light you could faintly see the ghosts of freckles along his high cheekbones and the bridge of his nose, faded but still a part of him. His soft woodsy perfumes, the bare hand laid flat against your duvet and the hopeful way he stared at you, as if begging you to accept some sort of invitation you’d never consciously received.

For the first time you could recall, he looked weak.

And just as quickly, he began to slip away. His long lashes fluttered and he forced a quiet laugh- he was beginning to recompose his facade piece by piece. He went to work slipping on his missing glove, beginning one of his typical monologues- he was running. Whatever silent offer he’d given you, you’d sorely missed your chance. If you didn’t think of something, anything to stop him, you were sure this wouldn’t happen again. “Magnifique! Another devoted to the pursuit of love, much like myself! How dreadful it is that the evening is drawing to a close-“

“You’re so beautiful.”

Whatever door he’d tried to close was promptly blown off its hinges. There was a heavy silence that settled over the two of you as his already wide eyes grew to the size of saucers. The sun had fully dipped below the horizon, and now the fluorescent street lamp by your window illuminated his visage in new shades of blue.

“Excusez-moi?” His honey colored lashes fluttered as he once again met your gaze. You may as well have punched him in the gut.

“I said you’re beautiful, Rook.” By lightly nudging his hand away from his hat you only further disarmed him. Something in his posture went lax; the bowstring had finally snapped, leaving him boneless, powerless beneath your intense gaze. He looked relieved. Being so exposed was exhausting, yet set a visible shiver down his spine.

All at once you placed that glint in his eyes from before, his silent request coming into vivid focus. An aching desire to be a part of your larger collection- something to be coveted, something to be loved regardless of form. You supposed one devoted to the pursuit of love would crave it the most. Had that been what this was from the start? His benevolent assistance, his endless compliments, his unwavering attention? You’d written it off as his usual eccentricities, but had he been subtly peacocking this whole time? The way he allowed you to ever so gently remove both gloves and press your skin against his gave you all the confirmation you needed. When you trailed your fingertips along his forearms before encircling his wrists, he all but pushed them into your grip. There was something else in his verdant gaze, something that told you he’d ask you to maim him and enthusiastically thank you after the fact. Not that you’d ever want to harm him at all; no, seeing him in such a state gave you an abrupt and thorough understanding of his desire to protect all things beautiful.

However, Rook would, in fact, leave shortly after. Your time had drawn to a close, and he did have duties to tend to at his own dormitory. Part of you worried he wouldn’t come back- that the moment of weakness the huntsman shared would be regretted as soon as he slipped away.

How foolish of you.

A few days afterward on your way to class, you noticed something glinting in the morning light. An arrow, cleanly wedged into the clapboard by your front door. A little bag of trinkets had been secured to it, along with a note.

“Pour le Cabinet des Merveilles de mon amour” - R.

——————————————————————————

Tag list for those of y’all who were on the same wavelength over the last few days! Feel free to DM to be added! A Vil fic is probably gonna be next bc I have Pomefiore brainworms alsjdkdj (and dm if you wish to be removed ofc! <3)

@v-anrouge @vtoriacore @phoneymedic @gum-gum-time

[the-trinket-witch]

New TWST OC Hub!

(NOTE: All art depicted is a combination of freehand art and sprite manipulation, So I cannot say this is wholly my own hand. As well, SD sprites are created via this picrew and edited further by me.)

Albert Eastwind (アルバート・イーストウィンド):

(TWST OF: Mary Poppins)

Age: 17

Pronouns: He/Him (わたくし)

Birthday: Aug 27

Height: 5'9" (175cm)

Class: 2-C (Student 64)

Homeland: Altus (Queendom of Roses)

Best Class: Practical Magic

U.M: 'Step in Time'- Can slow time around up to 15ft (4.5m), can only use up to an hour of time (passes as 5 minutes IRT). Buildup of blot makes use of <1hr dangerous.

Likes: Taking care of others

Dislikes: 'Piecrust Promises' (lying or sparing someone their feelings)

Personality: Cheerful, practical, self-flagellating, one to suffer in silence, truthful, wordy, uplifting, formal

Nicknames: Swordfish (Floyd), Monsieur Parapluie (Rook)

Eugenio 'Yuu' Hernandez (エウヘニオ・ヘルナンデス)

(TWST OF: N/A)

Age: 16

Pronouns: They/Them (僕)

Birthday: May 15

Height: 5'4" (162cm)

Class: 1-A (Student 13)

Homeland: Alameda, CA, USA

Best Class: P.E

U.M: 'Beast Tamer'-not magical, but the threat of La Chancla upside one's head tends to put rowdy schoolboys in line

Likes: Cooking, learning about Twisted Wonderland, days off

Dislikes: Overblotting, Some of the Dorm Leaders, having to do Crowley's go-for work, going hungry

Personality: Pragmatic, wry, inexperienced, mature, tired, fun-seeking

Nicknames: Shrimpy (Floyd), Monsieur Trickster (Rook)

Tidus Rhin (ティダス・ライン)

(TWST OF: Archimedes-The Little Mermaid (TV Series))

Age: 16

Pronouns: He/Him (自分)

Birthday: Nov 17

Height: 7ft (213cm)

Class: 1-C (student 50)

Homeland: Coral Sea

Best Class: History

U.M: 'Fathom's Below'- Can use infrasound frequencies to cause a variety of physical/psychological effects

Likes: Human Culture

Dislikes: Being used exclusively for his strength

Personality: Bubbly, curious, naive, scholarly, headstrong, tame, protective

Nicknames: Jinbei (Floyd), Monsieur Vaste (Rook)

Lázaro Muertinez (ラサロ・ムエルティネス)

Age: 18

Pronouns: He/Him (俺)

Birthday: Nov 2

Height: 6'0" (182cm)

Class: 3-D (Student 42)

Homeland: Land of Dawning

Best Class: Music

U.M: 'Recuérdame'-digs up lost memories of those who hear him playing music. Memories are random.

Likes: Playing any instrument he can get his hands on

Dislikes: Art theft

Personality: Cheery, familial, boisterous, spontaneous, savant, festive

Nicknames: Celebes (Floyd), Roi de la Guitare (Rook)

Aadesh Sona (アーデシュ・ソナ)

Age: 28

Pronouns: He/Him (俺-様)

Birthday: Oct 18

Height: 6'5" (195cm)

Subject: 'Counselor' (Inside Trader/Intel Gatherer)

Homeland: Sunset Savannah

Species: Beastman (Constrictor)

U.M: 'Silver Mist'-lowers brainwave activity, putting people to sleep. Cannot influence actions via UM itself, but has a degree in psychology so only needs to have one in a more suggestible state.

Likes: Having the upper hand, Praise from Mr Khan, power

Dislikes: Things not going his way, Knots in his tail, Kids too smart for their own good

Personality: Conceited, intelligent, scheming, two-faced, obsequious, manipulative, eloquent, self-serving

Nicknames: Scaly Bastard (various), Creepy Constrictor (various) Doctor (clients)

The Janitor (管理人-さん)

(TWST of: Myself! My Actual 'Self insert')

Age: 6 months

Pronouns: They/Them (自分)

Birthday: Sept. 15

Height: 5'4" (163cm)

Role: Janitor

Homeland: Nightraven College Science Lab

Species: Construct (animated anatomical model)

U.M: N/A (Has a charm that makes their sign language understood by those they communicate with)

Likes: Cleaning, free time, learning about 'Life'

Dislikes: Purposefully messy areas, People not understanding their signs, (eventually) being treated as a slave

Personality: detail-oriented, tidy, tired, sassy, overworked, nonchalant, wry

Nicknames: Handybones (various), Bones Malone (various), The Assistant (Sam), 'Oh Shit You Scared Me' (various), The Walking Halloween Decoration (various) Glassfish (Floyd), Souverain de Propreté (Rook)

Rajesh Khan (レージェシュ カン)

(TWST of: Shere Khan-Jungle Book)

Age: 53

Pronouns: He/Him (俺-様)

Birthday: Nov. 17

Height: 5'9" (175cm)

Career: CEO (Khan Corp.)

Homeland: Scalding Sands

Species: Beastman (Tiger)

U.M: 'King of the Jungle' Magically amplifies his infrasound roar, making it easier to intimidate.

Likes: Exotic food, smooth business dealings, news from Aadesh, opera, body building

Dislikes: Insubordination, lack of information, kicks to the knee

Personality: Austere, collected, explosive, cutthroat, confident

Nicknames: Sir, Mr Khan

Finally also: the Voice Claim Trailer

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Apple Lover | Yandere Epel Felmier x Reader

Epel knew people who loved apples. It is the Felmier’s life blood and family business, heck he liked apples but he’d never met someone like you. Someone who’d ask if anyone wanted any of the apple sauce he was giving you before chugging it like it wasn’t nearly an entire pint. He’d seen the other burlier men in his old town chug it like that after working all day without taking a break but you were just an average student at Night Raven, right? Other than the baffling circumstances in your arrival to said school he couldn’t find any reason as to why you so  aggressively consumed apple products. He knows you do. He’s checked many times:

“Hey my family sent some apple-cider so”

“Gim-sama doesn’t want such dis–”

“OMG THANKS EPEL!!! GOSH I LOVE THIS STUFF”

Or that other time he had a full crate.

“Hey can I have that crate back for–Whoa! WHERE ARE THE OTHER APPLES.”

“Oh sorry Epel I kind of went ham on them. Sorry!”

“There were over a hundred in there!?”

He was both prideful and really concerned you consumed so many of his family’s products. He was well aware of the cyanide properties in the seeds; that usually no one worries about because the number for eating enough of them to activate the poison is really high…like 100…like the amount he’d found nearly gone a week after giving it to you. 

“Oh no worries I avoid the seeds, plus I switch it up with different versions, y’know?”

Oh, he knew he’d been watching you chow down on apples or sipping on apple sauce everywhere. He’d seen you do it in your lonesome of the Ramshackle common room , during class, at lunch, in the library, really just everywhere. 

“You’re worried about the Prefect?” Vil spoke not looking away from his own image in the mirror touching up on makeup.

“I guess I just don’t know if they understand how addicted they are. I mean they seem to really enjoy it but I’m worried they let their obsession run their lives.”

“Well don’t you sound like you're obsessing over them a little? You’ve been yapping to everyone lately about this concern of yours, that's what all the potatoes have been saying.”

Epel snapped up from his previous position, bumping the bottom part of the dresser with his knees before giving an apologetic look to the glaring Vil. Turning to Rook who was happily working behind them Epel spoke.

“Is this true?”

The hunter laughed, squinting his eyes as he spoke. 

 “You have been talking a lot about Trickster…perhaps you do have deeper feelings past just concern?”

A blooming heat exploded onto Epel’s face and subsequently followed by the short-circuiting student. 

“W-what-?!! N-no w-ay!!! I’m not-!Am I? W-wot ‘re ya e-even saying?!”

The rest of their training session was filled with Epel being too flustered and overwhelmed with the possibility of actually being in love. 

___________________________________________________________

When he finally was able to escape Rook’s questioning and Vil’s training, he went to indulge in his favorite hobby. Epel lazed about watching from afar as you happily accepted a crate of apples from none other than Floyd and Azul. As he had overheard, you had discovered a variant of apple-like fruit from the Coral Sea and had come to the Octavinelle trio to be your guide. For someone who was so quick to tell your monster-tenant no more money to cans of tuna but perfectly prepared to buy a whole crate of sea-apples. You all too quickly walked into a shark’s den just to satisfy your apple-cravings and he was worried about you. 

“You know with how (Y/n) eats apples it’d just be so easy to…”

He stopped himself thinking about the words he spoke in the lonesome of his watching area at the edge of the wood. Realizing the implications of what he said he, at first, scolding himself before really thinking about it. 

You so blindly just ate and drank everything that was handed to you as long as it was from an apple or some variation of one. He tried to ignore the dark thoughts that were brewing from that little comment alone.

It just kept popping up with everyone else just knowing you wanted apples. So easily did you immediately trust anyone who so much as waved an apple product in front of your face. He’d seen it so many times Azul making you work for an apple-cider drink, or Ruggie who promises to get you more applesauce if you collect a bunch of dandelions for him. 

It would be far too easy to learn how to inject a love potion.

It was too easy to inject one. 

“Ah, (Y/n) I’ve been trying this new type of apple. Would you try it for me?”

“Sure.”

And like clockwork you took a heft bite of that apple and just as you should your (y/e/c) irises flashed pink. Now he found that when people talked it was you who had recently been speaking about him and when you wavered as if coming to some realization he didn’t mind offering you a cider or applesauce that would have your eyes flashing pink for as long as he pleased. 

[krenenbaker]

How the twst characters would respond to the question "What are your pronouns?"

These are merely headcanons of mine, of course, partially made in honour of pride month. For the most part, all responses use he/him, with a couple exceptions.

(Some of them may be a little out of character, but I tried. Feel free to give your own opinions, if you wish!)

Heartslabyul

Riddle

Hm? You must speak up when you ask someone a question.

Annunciate!

Mm, I see. He/him pronouns, if you please. And for you?

Ace

Ahaha, I'm a guy?

(So...?)

Uh, he? I thought you would know that, Prefect! Geez!

Deuce

Pronouns...? Like, "he"... right? Wait, I should ask for yours too.

Trey

Just plain he/him. Pretty normal, haha!

Cater

He/they for Cay-Cay! ;P

(this one was mostly just for the rhyme)

Savanaclaw

Leona

Tch. Interesting question, Herbivore. "He." Now, why don't you go bother someone else, hm?

Jack

My pronouns? Uhh, he/him. You?

Ruggie

Ehh... he/him. Shishishi! Why? What're yours?

Octavinelle

Azul

Ah, my pronouns. I use he/him, though it seems you knew already. Since you asked me, I suppose I should ask in return. That's only fair, is it not?

Jade

Here? I use he/him/his.

(Here?)

Yes. :) What about you?

Floyd

Good mood:

Ehh~? You can use "he" for me now, hehe. Now tell me yours, Shrimpy~

Bad mood:

I'm not in the mood for your stupid land questions right now, 'kay Shrimpy? Keep asking 'em, and you're gonna get squeezed. Understand?

(I like to think that on land, the Leeches use he/him pronouns, but in the Coral Sea they may not. Mostly due to the differing sexes - and, I assume, gender roles - of moray eels, and much marine life in general)

Scarabia

Kalim

Pronouns...? Wait... OH, pronouns!! :D I use he and him! What are your pronouns?

Jamil

Hm? He/him. What should I use for you?

Pomefiore

Vil

He, she, and they are all acceptable. What you've done to your hair, however... absolutely not. Have you remembered nothing that I've taught you?

(this choice was mostly based on Vil's pronoun use in the JP version)

Epel

'SCUSE ME?! WHY IN THE ABSOLU- uh, I mean, why are you asking? I use he/him. Masculine ones, you know?

Rook

Oh ho, what a wonderful question! The very fact you ask, and there is any number of responses you could receive, is très bien. The nature of language and its constant changes carry such beauty, do you not think, Trickster?

Ignihyde

Idia

wuh? you're asking ME? uhh... he, I guess? you normies always ask such weird questions. and totally out of the blue! I don't even have any dialogue options to choose from irl...

Ortho

I was assigned the pronouns he/him/his! Which set of pronouns would you like to be used in reference to you, Prefect-san?

Diasomnia

Malleus

Oh? You certainly are brave with your questions, Child of Man. I believe you are one of the first to inquire as to my personal pronouns. Perhaps you would like to tell me yours first?

Silver

My pronouns...? I'd prefer he/him. Which pronouns should I use for you?

Sebek

You're asking which pronouns I use? He/him, of course! What did you expect me to say, human?

Lilia

Keeheehee. How things have changed! Hmm... he/him, I believe. Do you use others?

Ramshackle

Grim

Eh? Like that grammar thing? Haha, you should already know, hench-human!

[catgendermikus]

❣︎ splatoon id pack !! ❣︎

focused on inklings; includes names, pronouns, titles, && genders, all under the “read more” !!

rq by: anon !!

names:

agent / ace / bobble / bobbie / callie / callista / cephie / cepha / chip / chirp / cora / coral / craig / cuttle / cutler / firefly / frye / freddy / frankie / fresh / hattie / ink / inky / ina / isaac / issaiah / lumi / lumin / marie / maria / marina / marley / neon / nessie / ocean / omega / paint / pearl / pearly / reef / sea / splat / splatter / squid / squidette / vandal / vintage / vinny / vincent

pronouns:

bobble / bobbles; ceph / cephas / cephalopod; chirp / chirps; coral / corals; fresh / freshs; ghost / ghosts; gho / ghost / ghostself; ink / inks; jet / jets; lumi / lumins / luminescent; lyr / lyric / lyricself; ne / neon / neonself; neon / neons; ocean / oceans; paint / paints; pearl / pearls; pop / pops; reef / reefs; sea / seas; splat / splats; spray / sprays; squi / squid / squidself; squid / squids; trick / tricks

titles:

the inkling / the inky one / the squid / the vandal / the artist / the painter / the fighter / the colorful one / the squid-shifter / the tentacled one / the freshest / the trickster / the invisible squid / the bioluminescent one / the not-quite-humanoid / the graffiti artist / [prn] who splats octolings / [prn] who shoots ink / [prn] who is made of liquid / [prn] with tentacles / [prn]’s luminescence / [prn]’s silliness / [prn]’s squidliness / [prn]’s tentacles / [prn]’s freshness

genders:

click links 2 view original coining posts !!

inklinenic / inklingirl && inklinboy / inklingthing / inklingender / splatonic / funkygender / sillybodiment / squidlexic / bioluminae / hydroneric / graffurbel / colartfitic / splashpaintartic / genderink / rainbowcoric / glitterglueaesic / gendergloop

disclaimer,, the chosen one has not played splatoon !! but bell did some wiki research ^w^ hope this is useful !!

[PT: splatoon id pack!! focused on inklings; includes names, pronouns, titles, and genders, all under the “read more”!! rq by: anon!! [read more line break] names: [list of names, all in plain text] pronouns: [list of pronouns, all in plain text] titles: [list of titles, all in plain text] genders: click links to view original coining posts [list of genders, hyperlinks leading to coining posts] END PT]

[karume-selfshipper]

Leilanya- Moray Eel Zora

Don't worry, she's just being a drama queen.

Trickster

Pirate adjectent

Lives near Hateno Beach/Luralin Village

Marginally friendly but stays in the water too much to befriend Hylians (or Land-Dwellers as she calls them)

Has considered moving to Eventide Island, but then who would she bother? The Bokoblins?

If she does go overboard with a prank. she'll try to make amends (usually in the form of a large haul of fish tied to the nearest post)

A very blurry line between fish-like Zora and lizard-like Zora

Her clothes are mostly rocks, shells, seaweed/kelp, and discarded sails.

She can fight a little, being out in the wild it is a little better than lower-ranked Guards within the Domain

Prefers the off-shore, underwater caves and coral reefs beyond the shore.

When she does visit the Domain, she pokes way too much fun at everyone and their second cousin. Sometimes this gets her run out of the Domain

Her headfin is extremely long, even as an adult she has to be careful on land because she'll trip and get hurt.

[elfboyeros]

Elfboyeros Masterlist

Every Original Work I have ever written is housed here, please enjoy!

Updated: September 28th, 2024

Content Key: Smut 💋 Angst🩸 Fluff🧸 Informational🗄️Mature Themes and LanuageⓂ️ Multiple Parts 📚 Slow Burn 🐌 Short (Less then 1,000 words) 🍰 Long post 🪜 Complete Series 🏁 Pictures 📷 Suggestive or Trigger Content (Warnings are also on the posts!)⚠️

Bridgehid

Bridgehid Secrets Ao3 and Wattpad | Bridgehidien Forest Ao3 and Wattpad | Brier's Three Ao3 and Wattpad

Bridgehid Secrets {Side A}🩸Ⓜ️📚🐌🏁

On their sixteenth birthday, orphan, Rowan King, is finally but in the care of their foster parents, Indigo, and Calvin Bookstone-Corals. While deciding to enroll at Bridgehid College for Magic and Alchemy Rowan, they discover that they there lost memories of childhood maybe connect to the hallowed institution.

Welcome Home | Returning | Class Morganite | Semester One | The Bridgehidien Ball | Rainy Days | Blackout | Family Dinner | Sneaking Around | The Gladiolus Festival | Healing Pools | Echoes | Down Tower | Until the Marigolds Bloom

Bridgehidien Forest {Side B} 🩸Ⓜ️📚🐌🧸

Now enjoying summer break with their friends, Rowan meets Estelle Venus a young girl their age that seems to be holding something against them. However, Rowan had no idea who Estelle is or what they done to her if they had done anything at all.

Summer June |

Brier's Three {Side C} 🩸Ⓜ️📚🐌🧸

On Marquis Island, there is something afoot causing many of Bridgehid College's healthiest students fall drained of any ability to perform magic or alchemy. The Bookstone-Corals children, Aurora, Alexandria, and Finnegan, take it upon themselves to figure out what is going on.

Raining Academics | Photogenic

Indigo and Calvin: Faithed EncountersⓂ️| Never🧸 | Cold Comfort 🩸🧸| Bloody Knuckles 🍰🧸| Black Satin, Purple Lipstick, & 8-o-Clock Dinner 💋🧸 | Their Northern Lights 🩸🍰| White Chocolate & Nutmeg🧸| Almost Caught 🍰Ⓜ️🧸 | Early Morning 🍰🧸| A Husband's Concern 🩸🍰 | Christmas Morning 🎄🧸🍰 | Hair and Statues 🧸🍰 | Sweet Spring 🍰🧸 | Keen Eye Ⓜ️🩸🧸🍰 | Bits of Patience 💋🧸 | Silence 🩸| Poisoned Coffee 🍰🧸

Others: Office Talk 🍰🩸 | Pride 🩸| Ceirse, Miel, and Trickster Ⓜ️🧸 | Gloves 🩸🧸🍰 | Embrasser les mains 🧸🍰

Information

Character Sheets📷🗄️| | Bridgehid Memes by @jj-pines 📷| Character Moodboards 📷

Hallows

Hallows Academy: Read on Wattpad and AO3

Hallow Academy Ⓜ️⚠️🩸📚🧸🐌

After a violent incident at a summer party, Amora Seawright is sent to Hallows Academy, a known school for troubled teens, by her mother. In a series of strange events, Amora acquires psychic abilities to commune with the deceased and unearth a rabbit hole incidents that she never wanted to become a part of.

| Orientation | Favorite Subjects ⚠️ | The Dead Man | A Scholar's Rotunda | Overcast Coastline |

| Before Senior Year⚠️🩸Ⓜ️|

Information

| Character Aesthetics📷 | Character Designs 📷 | Character Sheets 📷🗄️|

Masterlist

Purus Sanguis

The Necromancer's Wife

Read Collection on AO3

A Collection of oneshots about an old necromancer and his rich painter Wife

Written Works

Neat Whisky 🧸Ⓜ️ | Party Games 🧸Ⓜ️ | Proposal 🧸Ⓜ️

Information

| Character Sheets 📷🗄️ |

[thebirdwhodoesart]

BG3 Tavs/Ocs

Hello hello!! This is my masterpost for my Tavs and the bg3 ocs I have.

Why? Because I want to and that's all the reason and more to post them. This whole list is subject to change, but never to remove character.

And eventually get decent character descriptions after, but right now I don't care.

this is all dnd races too, now name time

-Elves-

Orirel Dawndream (Princess)(High Elf) Liadainna Sonata (Noble)(Wizard) (High Elf) Hallie Tavire (Entertainer)(Bard)(High Elf) Cassandra Cassear (Soldier)(Fighter)(High Elf) Ianfir Springwish (Sage)(Druid of the land)(Wood Elf) Nadja (Sage)(Druid of the wild)(Wood Elf) Celesti (outlander)(Cleric of the moonlight, Selûne) Nautica (Outlander)(druid of the Sea stars)(Sea Elf)

-Half Elves-

Gregor Tavine (Acolyte)(Paladin/Cleric, Luthander, Oath of devotion)(half High Elf) Stella DeTavrus (Entertainer)(Bard)(half High Elf) Noelle (Folk hero)(Druid of the land)(half Wood Elf) Camilei (Outlander)(Druid of the land)(half Wood Elf)

-Tieflings-

Zuko Taveri (Noble)(Sorcerer)(More devil then tief) Jeanette Tavrett(Outlander)(Ranger) Viana Blackrose(Entertainer)(Bard) Bee (Urchin/Criminal)(Rogue, thief) Dessa (Folk hero)(Rogue, assassin ) Dorcas (Haunted one)(Warlock)

-Githyanki-

Pailu (Soldier)(Fighter) Balrot'hik (Soldier)(Fighter) Dri Giphlak (Soldier)(Fighter) Nimber Ith'la (Soldier)(Fighter) Jeth K'thlaigha (Soldier)(Fighter)

-Drows-

Talaliira Taav (Soldier)(Fighter) Miz'ri Tav’neri (Sage)(Wizard) Ryld Everht'tar (Charlatan)(Bard) Nadal Kenndar (Charlatan) (Half drow-half tiefling) Zillia Dyrr (Outlander)(Cleric, Eilistraee)

-Half Orcs-

Brak Brak (Outlander)(Barbarian) Briki (Outlander)(Barbarian) BlackTusk (Soldier/Outlander)(Barbarian) Tak (Soldier/Outlander)(Barbarian)

-Dwarves-

Emnir Stoutheart (Soldier)(Fighter) Delaney StoneBeard (Guild Artisan)(Fighter) Jethro Bibbs (Soldier)(Fighter)

-Halfings-

"Brick" Shithouse (Soldier)(Fighter) Linsire Thistlesky (Outlander)(Paladin) Kilga Elish (Outlander) Jimmie Barrel(Outlander)(Bard)

-Gnomes-

Aridon TwilightBrace (Entertainer)(Bard) Giancarlo Douvil - Formally known as Thimble Bimplestein (Entertainer)(Bard) Throbbie (outlander of the underdark) Shadynasty (Entertainer)(Bard)

-Humans-

Mellea (Entertainer)(Druid, circle of spores) Gus(Acolyte)(Monk) Aarav (Acolyte)(Monk)

-Warforged-

Coil (Fighter) Porci (Wizard/Uses rapiers to extend her reach)

-Tritons-

Illyanna (Thrall of a ulitharid) Ariel (Thrall of a ulitharid) Coral (Guild Artisan)(Druid, circle of (sea) stars) Ammi (Outlander)(Ranger) Pearl (Mariner) (Gunner) Narissa ("Noble")(Jellyfish wizard)(half triton half human) Kai (Outlander)(Pirate)(half human half triton) Calder (Soldier)(Paladin, path of ancients) Caspian (Folk hero)(Fighter) Delmar (Outlander)(Ranger)

-Mermaids-

Merissa Lana Orabell Nyrissa Minato Ren

-Fairies-

Dusk, fae under shar (Sage)(Wizard) Nissa (Spawn of Bane) Twiggy (Noble)(Druid)

-Centaurs-

Pomeline (Outlander)(Ranger)

-Saytrs/Fauns-

Ananassa (Outlander)(Druid/Bard) Plu (Sage)(Bard)

-Bugbear-

Zovik (Acolyte)(Monk) Vonn (Outlander)(Ranger) Gurr (Charlatan)(Rogue)

-Kolbolds-

Flush(Acolyte)(Cleric)

-Tabaxi-

Janki(Outlander)(Bard)(Calico) Meena (Sage)(Wizard)(Scottish Fold) Melon (Criminal)(Rogue)(Norwegian Short Hair) Sam (Folk Hero)(Barbarian)(Orange) Theodore (Haunted one)(Bhaal Spawn)(Rogue)(Oriental shorthair) Whiskers (Acolyte)(Monk)(Japanese Bobtail) Princess (Acolyte)(Monk)(Egyptian Mau) Molli (Guild artisan)(Sorcerer, wild magic)(American shorthair)

-Dragonborn-

Kh'thrër (Outlander)(Barbarian) (Red) Iltead (Folk Hero)(Barbarian) (Red) Heseth (soldier)(Barbarian) (Red) Ag'garith(Outlander)(Barbarian) (Silver) Cur'reem(Outlander)(Barbarian) (Copper) Au'theri(Outlander)(Barbarian) (Gold) Hebi (Outlander)(Eastern dragonborn)(White)

-Harengon-

Alice(Folk Hero)(Wizard/Master of potions)

-Eladrin-

Nerivyre (Outlander)(Druid of the land)

-Yuan-Ti-

Deshk(Noble)(Arcane trickster) Zhihu(Entertainer)(Rogue)

-Illithid-

Gl'bgolyb (Ulitharid)

-Aasimar-

Cornir (Sage)(Paladin) Inea(Fallen)(Fighter) Navosi (Imprisoned)(Paladin)

-Succubi and incubi-

Wysteria Nyxxis (Nyxxxis) Velvet

-Werewolves-

Namoris (Soldier)(Paladin) Gauss (Soldier)(Paladin)

-Grungs-

Boingo (Myrkul Spawn)

-Changeling-

Briar (Spawn of Mystra) Rowan Jasper Fir Wynnie

[ashrifts]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄ㅤ➞ㅤㅤ𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐓

if you leave offerings at a certain shrine in kannazuka, you will receive protection from the trickster serpent brothersㅤ───ㅤor so the saying goes. no one has dared to try and bring chaos there for a long time now, after all, and many attribute this to ran and rindou's watch over the land. where the uwabami are mostly known to keep away from civilization, the haitani brothers are the blatant exception: they're celebrities in kannazuka, perhaps in all of inazuma, and are mostly spotted strolling around at night during the frequent festivals celebrated in their honor.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ➞ㅤ𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂:

ㅤㅤ››ㅤi was THIS close to making him a tengu because of this pazuribe ran but decided to stick to his snake motif...

ㅤㅤ››ㅤtheir favorite offering is sake, but ran likes getting sweets too.

ㅤㅤ››ㅤhe's an electro catalyst. received his vision at 13, when he and rindou were defending the island from bandits trying to take over who were planning to use it as their new base and extort the villagers. the sight of a little kid brutalizing the leader made the people both fear and respect him, and this is how they gained their complicated reputation. some see the brothers as their very own yokai protectors, guardian deities with their best interest in mind, while others as simply another pair of tyrants exerting control over them. neither make the effort to make clear which one it is.

ㅤㅤ››ㅤolder folks will say they saw with their own eyes as the electro vision emerged from the man's mangled corpse like a heart being ripped from its ribcage, glowing red instead of purple with the blood coating it. ran had grasped it in his hand and laughed with lips stained in blood not his own.

ㅤㅤ››ㅤlikes to ominously imply he does, in fact, eat humans. "haha nice joke man" "😊" "...you are joking, right?" "😊"

ㅤㅤ››ㅤthe people of kannazuka are less people he wants to protect and more things he owns and is territorial over simply for the fact that they live in what he perceives to be his land. kannazuka is known as a place where no gods reside and has been continuously disputed over by the shogunate and the sangonomiya, but ran thinks himself and rindou as its gods.

ㅤㅤ››ㅤsome hundreds of years old, still young for an uwabami.

ㅤㅤ››ㅤaids the watatsumi resistance here and there when he feels like it, and is particularly fond of terrorizing the shogunate army stationed at kannazuka. he does not care for their war of faith or for the gods they worship, but he opposed the vision hunt decree because it'd strip him of his freedom and his god-given right to bear a vision.

ㅤㅤ››ㅤno one asked but his ascenscion mats are: dendrobiums (because they're also called blood orchids), coral defenders and specter drops (because they're super annoying to farm and i know ran would love that for me).

[enignoema-a]

Your muse as a deity

RULES: Think carefully about your character and their development within their story. Fill out the chart and tag whoever you want! Repost, don't reblog.

The Riddler

God of: Trickster god of Obfuscation and Truth

Associated with: Riddles, secrets, masks

Sacred plants: Belladonna, narcissus, mint, Thorn apple

Sacred stones/gems: Aventurine, coral, larvikite

Sacred animal(s): Fox, chameleon, rabbit

Colors: Greens, lavender, gold

Scents: citrus, cinnamon

Accepted offerings / Ways to honor: Gold coins, old well worn books, wine, secrets, and personally made inventions and trinkets. Seek the truth, but know what secrets to keep hidden. Wear costumes. Speak in riddles.

Tagged by: stole from @ratwhsprs

Tagging: @brutalage @twcfaces @sanguine-salvation and literally everyone else

[feelin-lo]

Bro just imagine Lo, Meztli and Trickster having a night out and Lo encountering a very rude person, (a.k.a a Karen) and for a while of that person throwing a tantrum they then slapped Lo in the heat of the moment.... Hahah.... Meztli and Trickster witness the whole thing =)

Okokok here's how I think everything would play out ...

Since Lo only dresses smartly for everything, mez and Cory decide to take the writer shopping but don't let him chose so they just let him loose in a bookstore.

The two of them pick out some outfits because they were going out for a meal that night and they wanted to look different.

Once they get home, Lo is given a white shirt, leather jacket, ripped jeans and some converses to wear. Lo is a little weirded out but wears them anyway. Then Coral drags Lo into her room to do his hair. She decides that he would look cute without his star and with some beads in his hair.

Meztli is in a suit and Coral is in a layered knee length dress with a thin jacket over it.

After the meal, a lady approaches Lo and said that "you're a sweet big girl aren't you?" And Lo corrects them by saying that they were a dude and then an argument ensues about how Lo shouldn't have long hair as it makes him look girly, he's a disgrace ect ect then Karen slaps him

And as we all know, one does not simply slap the baby and so Coral and Meztli look like they're about to murder her entire bloodline but luckily for Karen, it started to rain so they all went home.

When they get home, Lo gets into his pajamas and snuggles up with his roommates, that morning there were mysterious blood stains on the living room carpet.

The writer would sigh and get to work cleaning the residue.

Meztli belongs to @aesopsbaby

Cory/coral/Trickster belongs to @boiling-potato

And Lo is mine!