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mystxmomo · 2 years ago

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I recently got a curiouscat asking for a primer on my characters, for someone who didn't know anything about them and was curious. Yippee!

Unfortunately, curiouscat has a 3k CHARACTER (Not word, but character!!) limit. I tried to keep this under 3k characters, but ultimately I don't know how to shut up.

Perhaps that's fortunate. Afterall, something like Tumblr gives me the chance to actually sit down and articulate my thoughts, as well as include pictures. I'm not going to fool myself into thinking I can keep this short, but I am going to try and keep it contained. As such, I've formatted each character as such.

What they're based on, be it an idea, a personality, a scenario, ect. What their personality is. And some things about their story.

I actually have... a Tumblr Development blog. The character page is a bit dated, with some character designs already having some changes, and doesn't have the proper descriptions up yet. But it should at least be enough to put a name to a face for most of the characters I'm about to talk about.

Here's a link to the character page directly

Basically, all of these characters are for a game I'm making. It explores the idea of the afterlife as something entirely mundane, and domestic. It's the lazy day where you have the fan blowing because it's a little too hot, or wading in the shallows of the beach. This is a game where a happy ending is assured. The characters are already dead. Though they cannot remember their lives, they have lived them already, and are about to rediscover them. And so the point becomes. Do they deserve it? A lot of the characters have done Bad Things. Some of them aren't good people. They're fun characters, but my god they suck balls. Does that make them any less deserving of happiness? Do they still get to grow?

(: so with that established.

my characters.

Estelle - (It's complicated)

Estelle is purposefully based on the stock standard silent rpg protagonist. She's very stoic, is noted as not saying much in game. People respect her, but she's a reflection of the players actions.

Despite being someone who's really reliable, she's kind of like. Implied to be a little bit of a sarcastic cunt? You know just because someone can't speak doesn't mean they are nice. But shes willing to put up with and do a lot.

Laelia - Forest God

Laelia is based on the idea of a whale fall deity. Like, a goddess who's death will feed an ecosystem. She explores a lot of themes regarding love through apathy? She's a nature goddess. To her, Humans are no different then rabbits, which are no different to dogs, which are no different then crows. Why should the death of a human mean anymore - and therefore, any less, then the death of a crow. Does the act of kindness matter less to things that will never truly understand you? She cannot bring herself to hate humanity, as hating humanity is against her very nature as a nature deity.

Personality is based on like. Stoic, noble knight characters. She was originally based on heathers-esc mean girls, and there are still aspects of her personality and design that shine through that. But it's been muddled down a bit. She's a heathers esc mean girl who got Older. She's melancholic, more then anything else, though she chooses to spend her time around people that are Hard To Deal with.

Her story deals with ideas of heroism and honor in small acts. Despite being a demi-god who's biggest claim to fame should have been in her death, she is explicitly most known for silent kindness. She's someone reliable, even in her apathy. There's no honor in glory, and no glory in violence, and no honor in death.

Also she'll just Do things. I think i said that already, but she's the type of character who's willing to jump off a cliff to discover if there are rocks in the water. Her demi-god powers are kind of lame, because "i can't force animals to grow, so why would I be able to do that to plants?" But plants grow on her and that's a fun perk of her design.

Kimon - (: don't worry about it yet.

Kimon is based on the idea of very peppy macabre artists. He's friendly! He's a little sassy! He's introspective! He's the one with the least amount of blood on his hands, canonically. He does graphic gore and decay art. He's canonically a clone of one of the other characters that was made incorrectly, and so his body is actively beginning to stop from the inside out.

The point of his story is three fold. The first one is the idea of identity, and the meaning of that identity. He's canonically a clone. What does that mean for his sense of self? What makes his identity different to the person he's grown from. Is it his experiences? His art? His relationships? He's someone who knew the moment he woke up that there was a clock on his life. What's the point of living a life you know will but cut short? To create? To enjoy what time you have? Kimon plays with the idea of living when you can doing what you can and enjoying the life you're living, and the romance in the mundane.

The second one is a theme I play with in my current fandom, but its one I like so it's one I'm taking. What makes something art? Does art need to have meaning to be meaningful? He has my favorite event planned for the game, where he man handles all of the characters into creating something because he wants people to create and wants to see people through what they create.

But the third one is exploring what makes a good person. Kimon is a nice person. As previously stated, theres currently no plans for him to have killed anyone. He DID cheat on his husband. He canonically says slurs. His sense of humor is offensive in a way that the narrative is judgemental of (because I, as an author, know there's a fine line between just Making An Offensive Character and making something that advertises hate) Like, to be clear about the source of his inspiration, he's based so heavily on emo-subculture and the people in it.

I like Kimon a lot as a character. He's a very passionate person, and that's really fun for me to write.

Poppy - Human

Poppy is based on turn of the century hollywood stars and the corruption of the era. The point of Poppy's narrative is... Hm. Self-discovery. She grew up with a mother who controlled her image, got married at 15 to get away from her mother, only to fall into the arms of a man more controlling than she was.

Poppy starts the narrative performing everything about herself. She's a very surface level polite person. She comes across as soft spoken, if not bashful. She refuses gifts that are like treats because, despite liking things like chocolate and cake a lot, it's something she's never been allowed to have. For a bulk of her life, shes only ever been allowed to be what other people tell her to be. There's the reason she's An Actress. There's also themes of the cycle of abuse. Poppy is a mother, but her own abuse leads to her neglecting and abusing her own child. Even when she's outside of her abusive relationship, she's starting everything about herself from scratch.

But there's also this theme of growth I like with her. She has a breaking point. She cuts her hair, she lashes out and breaks down. Life goes on. She stops performing her personality. She's actually a very passionate "follow your heart, do what's right" type person, she'll speak her mind when she thinks something is wrong and place herself in danger for someone else. Break the rules to do what's right and burn the bridge trying.

She has a gun. She discovers she likes working with machines. She becomes a better mother, and life goes on.

Ida - Human +

I'm going to be honest with you going into this. I'm still figuring a lot of things about this character... Out? She's not like my other characters in that she's kind of a very passive one, and that's by design of what she's trying to do.

Ida is based on the idea of a corrupt spiritualist. She's someone vulnerable who was prayed on by the authority of her religion. It's important that I note - it's not a cult. It's a statement on how religion by its nature, while it can be very important and impactful for people, just as often even the most main stream religions can become damaging to the vulnerable.

She has a concept of fate that she feels she cannot break. She believes in fate as a finality. She cannot control the outcome of her own life, it is predetermined, and so anything she does she has to do because that's the Will of it. And she hurts for it. There's a comfort in the finality, but is the comfort of that finality worth the pain of not trying to change? She wants to be a good person, but what happens when you have to do bad things to fulfil your idea of what Good is. You're doing something "for the good" but you're hurting others for it.

She's Human + because she starts as a human, but this is a world with demigods and psychopomps and deities. Her religion consumes her body, and she becomes an echo of who she was.

Personality wise she comes across as a quiet academic type, but she's kind of arrogant and pretentious and it's not in a very Fun way. She can be a little patronizing, and incredibly manipulative, but she's also. Disconnected. Quiet. She might change a little bit, we will see when we get there.

Thales - Lich

Thales is a subversion of the mad scientist/necromancer archytype. The first thing you need to know is that necromancy in this world, while not accepted by the people in it, is accepted by the GODS in it. Olette, psychopomp, LOVES this guy. Isn't it interesting! Isn't it fascinating, watching someone try and avoid death, killing to avoid death, only to be taken by it anyway? Necromancy isnt anymore against the natural order than mending a broken bone, or restarting a stopped heart. Because you can only do it for so long before death will take you anyway.

He's a socialite! He's a party boy! He's nobility. He's so scared of death. And it's fun, because what do you do when you've spent your entire life worrying about dying, only to discover that death is a reflection of life? Have you wasted your life in that worry?

I'm trying to save most of the relationships for the bullet points section, but kimon and Thales are interesting to me in the way they foil the idea of life as something worth living. Kimon accepts his death and spends his days creating and enjoying, and even when he fucks up his community and hurts the people he loves he still has people he loves. Thales loves life and wants to keep life, and he's willing to burn the village to keep his life. He works. He works on keeping his failing bodies alive and growing new bodies to occupy, and at some point he doesn't have anything in life other than that work and the duty of that work.

And so it becomes a question of. Like. If your life is only ever that work, and that worry, did you even enjoy the life you had for as long as you got to have it?

His story also plays into themes of what makes a person good and what makes a person bad, both as he himself reflects it and how he's choosing to kill people. Death horrifies him, and so he only gives it to people worth killing. But that contrasts the theme of the game, doesn't it? What if the person you kill, that you've decided is irredeemable, can grow and change. What if you've killed the asshole, but hurt good people by doing so?

Personality wise, he's very. Academic clever boy. He's kinda flirty. He's also miserable.

Floant - Kitsune

Floant is the little fox bitch I'm always drawing. Hes based on the idea of.. kitsunes, but also a asshole pacifist. He's the shopkeeper of the game! He's the only shopkeeper in the game!! He is everywhere, you literally will not escape this guy. He refuses to sell weapons, despite being the only shopkeeper in the game. Also, he doesn't actually understand the concept of importance of money. He'll just give people his wares if he likes them enough. He's kinda been shoe horned into this position, so why should he care? He's also the strongest character in the story, just sheer ability wise. But coming back to being a pacifist, he is useless for it. He is very good at running away.

The point of his story and the themes of it are... Tragic romance and love. He loves with everything he has.

And so Floant as a character plays into the concept of love as something neutral. You're not a better person for your love, suffering for your love is just a tragedy, clinging to ghosts

Personality? Masquerades as a Cheshire cat figure, but he's pretty strategic and level headed, all things considered. He likes being very annoying, like. He takes so much enjoyment out of being a shit for brains person. But he's not annoying because he's stupid, he's annoying because he thinks it's funny to get under people's skin.

Momoko - Kitsune (2 of them!)

Momoko is based on the idea of mothers who never grow to love their children. She's a Rotten Mother. Nevermind the fact that having children ruined her life, she is someone dealing with a lot of grief that she refuses to acknowledge or touch on. So she could not bring herself to love who she brought into the world. I won't say she's never hurt one of her children, because. Lmao. This bitch guilty of period typical infanticide. But she was not physically abusive to the child she chose to raise, nor was verbally or emotionally abusive. She just could never come to love him.

And so, that brings in the question of what actually makes a good mother, and really, what love even is. Momoko is mean. She's brash and loud, easily irritated and kind of snappy as a person. But she takes care of her son and keeps him safe in a world and time that really wants the both of them dead. She spends time with him, actively verbalizes that she holds a great amount of respect for him, and she does see him as his own person with agency. Is that still love, even when she says she hates him?

I'll give you a guess as to who her son is, based on the species alone. First guess doesn't count.

I do not generally like to advertise my characters for their queerness. I personally think.. well, one, it should go without saying. But two, the selling point of the character should be their story and the queerness of it should be an accessory rather than the point of it? It's the type of representation I like to see. I'm personally very, very tired of coming of age queer stories, and so I aim to write stories that happen to have queer characters in it, rather than stories about being queer. Or at the very least, I want to write stories where queerness is weaved into and reflective of the relationships and community of the characters, rather than the plot.

Having said that, I do want to talk about the fact that kitsunes bastard 1 and 2 are very purposefully playing in the realm of gender ambiguity. Like, a lot of characters are, but with these two specifically... Floant is drawn in very effeminate cultural clothing, long hair, ect, and Momoko has a very purposefully androgynous silhouette. Despite being The Mother, she's given a lot of very masculine traits and tendencies. Floant is the Romantic and The Caretaker, but he's the guy. If you're ever thinking "is this intentional?" The answer is probably yeah.

There are a few other trans characters. I refuse to say who.

I swap between they/them and he/him-She/Her pronouns for the two of them, but ultimately the pronoun aspect of it does not matter. Like I mentioned in the first paragraph of this ramble, I want the idea of it weaved into their design, rather than just placed there.

Anyway. Small tangent over. I like them a lot, they're fun characters.

Olette - Psychopomp

Olette is based on horror movie girl archetypes. Shes the nerd, she's the final girl, she's the popular girl, she's the killer and the monster and the victim. She's so much of everything at once. She's loud! She's performartive! The world is a theater and she's playing in it! I mentioned it in another recent curiouscat, but shes the only character who has Every Single Emote as a new indivual full body pose.

She's a lovecraftian protagonist. She saw the horrors and just rolled with it. She doesn't have to understand the old gods to know that they're there. She loves the horrors! She gave herself to them because she had no one else to give herself too.

There's a building joke that every character in this game starts off hating olette, and she loves them all despite that. They think she's annoying. She doesn't know how to stay out of their business, she's the reason they are where they are and why they're going through what they're going through.

Her personality is... She performs being loud and arrogant and confident and mean, but she's kind of pathetic and sad. She's a theater kid. If she succumbed to the mortifying ordeal of being known, it would mean admitting she's so horrifyingly lonely, so she won't! She's also kind of clingy, and scatterbrained. She chooses to dress like that. Yeah. In my idv au for her I had her as a fake psychic, and I think that fits still.

Bullet time. Important relationships

Laelia and Floant - Weird co-dependence. They Do Love Eachother, but ...

Laelia and Ida - what do you do when you can only consider yourself a good person if you manage to guide someone to their death? What if you grow attached to the person you're supposed to kill? Yeah.

Floant and Momoko - look back at momokos section.

Thales and Poppy - What do you do when the first person who has ever respected your agency as a person is Kind Of An Asshole? Let's find out.

Kimon and Laelia - they're just buddies. It's important to me that they're buddies.

Floant and Olette - they're so fucking funny to me personally. Floant cannot get under this girls skin and he's so thrown off by that it loops back around into him becoming a straight man to her antics.

Estelle and Olette - Ghost wearing my childhood friends face. No I'm not delusional. Why are you looking at me.

Okay edit time

The warrior cats. — Today at 2:29 AM

Estelle is also insane but I can't talk on this post about her being a sleeper agent old god with amnesia wearing the face of olettes childhood friend (who olette killed) to keep her happy

That's insane and only makes sense in context

The warrior cats. — Today at 2:31 AM

I think the line I wrote down about their relationship is "Olette loves Estelle like a woman loves her wife Estelle loves Olette like a person loves their dog"

But like a really good dog owner. Who takes care of their dog instead of dragging them by the leash

She keeps her safe but blinded to the world

And it's this theme of Love and how people love and if the context of that love changes the fact it's love places my face in a pillow the lesbian drama in here is insane

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reitziluz · 1 year ago

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betrayal, desire, nightmare for OC ask thing

wooooo took ages to type these up but boy did i have fun!!

betrayal: Has your OC ever been betrayed by someone they thought they could trust? Has your OC ever betrayed someone who trusted them?

kimon: mostly there hasn't been enough trust to begin with for it to count. but he did backstab a god the moment it chose him.

vaal: learned a harsh life lesson about trusting nice helpful guards as a kid. as in, got tricked into revealing emself, which directly led to em getting recruited, and things were hazy for a long time after that.

arin: has a history of Messy relationships, and has cheated and been cheated on. the worst betrayal they've experienced is the time when not only was their work stolen, but they were also framed for fraud. the fraud part got cleared up, but their reputation never fully recovered, and a lot of doors remain closed.

tess: a relative became her guardian/conservator after she lost her parents, and turns out, had ulterior motives. she's working on turning the game right back on them.

sam: there's been a few people that have turned out to be abusers or moles or swindlers in her circles. she never intentionally goes back on her word.

leskel: has bit of a habit of using people. to put it mildly.

desire: What's one thing your OC wants more than anything in the world? Are they open with that desire? Why or why not? What would they do to fulfill it?

kimon: peace. to get Fate off his ass and live a nice boring life. openly talks about the latter part. mostly his plan is to Not Do things that would drag him into Situations and have him deal with bullshit. he’s willing to take some extreme measures and make big moves, like he already has escaped a necromancer cult and defected from the armed forces of a dictatorship run by mind controllers.

vaal: struggles to express any kind of desire and does not feel allowed to pursue them. e doesn't fully know what e wants, but… maybe to continue seeing new skies.

arin: recognition. it's hard not to hear them speak about it. they say they want fame and riches, but it's more about proving their worth and being valued and respected. academically, of course, it's not like they want their family's approval, don't get any ideas!! they are often tempted to cheat, but also hate cheaters with a burning passion, so honest hard work it is! they used to be willing to risk life and limb, but they're starting to run a bit low on those.

tess: justice. she's open about it on a general level, when talking about politics and such. she's hiding the more personal side, because she's on a revenge quest. happens that she's also wrestling with the question of what would she be willing to do to reach her goal?

sam: unity, as in community but also unionization. everyone should join a union. the refinery becoming worker owned was great, but let's keep going. she wants everyone thriving, she doesn't want any more heartbreak, and has the dedication and disciple to put in the countless thankless hours of work to achieve that.

leskel: ascension. he will do anything to achieve it. extremely secretive.

nightmare: What does your OC have nightmares about? How do they deal with their nightmares? Do they tell people, or keep it to themself?

kimon: he doesn't speak about it, but has a recurring nightmare. he has essentially tamed it. it's supposed to be a prophetic “Come Defeat Thine Adversary O Chosen One” deal but he just sits down and meditates in the hell cave until the dream runs out. sometimes, on more lucid occasions, he’s able to talk with it.

vaal: having a fun time only to suddenly realize e has done something terrible to eir loved ones. e doesn't like talking about eir nightmares other than to state e had one. thankfully e dreams very rarely to begin with, because e does not handle the nightmare well. it's either frightening repression or clingy bedbug mode for the day.

arin: their nightmares are mild, more like stress dreams. they complain about them loudly to anyone who's willing to listen, and go on ignoring the fact that they're a sign they need to practice some self care. their most intense nightmares feature a great monster hunting them, usually in labyrinthine basements or attics.

tess: had violent night terrors as a child. still suffers from night paralysis. she talks about it pretty freely. most of the time it's classic hat man or teeth falling out shit. sometimes being pinned down is a feature, and she's a bit more unwilling to get detailed about those.

sam: sorrowful dreams that she wakes up from crying. taking some time to grieve again for a moment, and doing something comforting like drink a cup of tea helps. she talks about them with trusted friends, but usually only when asked. the hardest one is where she's present for an event she actually had learned about way after the fact. that nightmare is the only time she's afraid of heights.

leskel: doesn't sleep. cannot sleep. it will be there. and he won't be able to hide.

#igotasked #whee #tbh i'm probably going to go through more of these even if i don't get more asks #probably over on the sideblog #and i would have linked the ask game but holy fuck #tumblr isn't letting me put the link in #barely allowed me to paste the answers #long post

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fumikomiyasaki · 2 years ago

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[ 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐊 ] ― sender and receiver fall into bed together on silk sheets

Kimon & Andrew

The Five Senses

He didn't think he would take that long to clean up everything at the staples in Falciette when he got an message from Kimon to stop by their dorm... yet as he arrived he already was faced by someone feeling tired of his presence already.

"Louis... I am just here cause Kimon asked me to."

"I would rather wish they didn't ask you... "

"Come one can't we just be friends, we both care about Kimon."

"I care about their well being, you only seems like status matters... I heard the rumors about you, mister von Yltan... I know how you reached the top."

He sighed and walked past him.

"I promise I won't... can't speak for my brothers though."

One last glare from Louis as he left to Kimons room, who already looked at him with a sleepy gaze... he just found them to precious seeing them half awake.

"Did LouLou bother you?"

"N-no its fine... he just doesn't warm up to me yet.. I am here as promised however."

He rested with them in those silk sheets loosing the previous worry and smiling at Kimon as much as he could to pull them close.

"Its far *yawn* better to sleep with you as cushion."

"And I always be yours... I actually admire Louis dedication to you... hence I deal with his antics just to be with you... cause I know he is as important."

"You are... sweet... *yawn* would you stay here... for the rest of the day."

"Of course... in my dorm I am unwelcome anyways..."

"Why is that?"

He looked down. "A lot has happened but... It will be fine... In doubt I transfer schools to be closer to you."

"Drewy... Andy..."

He caressed their face and placed a kiss on their forehead.

"Being with you makes me already feel far better. thank you."

He rested his hands around kimon taking the embrace to lure him into sleep... even if he was still in thoughts about everything, this was a far better feeling than before.

#twisted wonderland oc #twst oc #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland ocs #twst #disney twst #twst ocs #twistedwonderland #twistedwonderlandoc #andrew von yltan #andrew x kimon

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nvrcmplt · 2 years ago

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It was a strange time, thinking about just how much of it has passed him since he became who he was now. Standing with the hundreds of Kimon, the room of white and a funeral rite being held in honour of his Grandfather's passing, the prior Oyabun of this family - the one human that adopted the freak that was Fushimi. He stared with a face of wonder and honour, pride with sorrow. It was a combination that felt twisty and wobbly in his stomach but his heart and spine remained strong.

Witnessing the flowers, the gifts and burning incense, Fushimi stared upon the image he chose with Sasaharu's guidance back in the day. And could do nothing more than reminisce the times of being a teenager, a brat, a hidden golem in the dojo too fearful of the repercussions of what he was. The anger, the growth aches, the pain of being two things in one mix. The confusion and hatred, the sensation of being something of this world and something not. The rage, the violence, the sorrow and abandonment he so feared.

Witnessing the kindness of a man that held many lives in his palms and blood in his teeth - Fushimi could only lower his head to that man with every ounce of love and honour in his blood. The knowledge his Grandfather passed onto him with the intentions of making his Oyabun, even though Fushimi denied the notion many times, Fushimi was still given the chance of a lifetime to be loved, feared, adored and gifted a family that was not just a claim from a hand me down but to be claimed as true.

The silence of the hall followed the ceremony - though it was common to speak a few words in the closest of the deceased, the shaman's knew better. Instead, bowing to the silent wall that was Fushimi before taking their leave with their company and trainees. Fushimi remained in the hall, the smell of incense sticks strong but not painful or irritating to his senses. The flowers made it mellow, the room too. Believed it would too wash out with white on white, the royal purple and yellow embroidered cloth over the table was beautiful in its boldness. The flowers stood out on it, the gifts, the picture frame, the world really stood no chance upon this sight.

Searing it into his brain, Fushimi didn't move for another three hours. Only when he felt the hand of his wife upon his arm and chest, beckoning his gaze to pull aside the memories and sorrow of his Father's passing, did his lungs fill with air and his lashes moisten from the hollowness in his heart. A large chunk of it went with that old man - but he held it together. Raising his hand to guide one of Itachi's to his cheek, to kiss into palm and inhale his scent at the moment. Guided once more with a silence beckon, he took his time to depart the room. Bowing thrice towards his Father's ceremony and taking Itachi's hand to go elsewhere.

The hidden room, once his own-prison to keep himself training in Irezumi, the room that he broke through the walls over and over but watched them get repaired just the same. The room was refurbished over his time of being Oyabun. No longer a mess of ink and teen angst, but a comfortable hideaway of memories. Low ceilings and a deep floor, the middle of it all decked out in nothing but cushions and a small table. The place looked more like a nest for an introvert than anything else. Books all over the walls, old scrolls, ink and art books from Fushimi's drawing days. His old yukata's on mannikins and some table in a corner holding his drawing station…

Fushimi didn't need to be told to sit, but he did guide Itachi to his side. Lowering himself upon the cushions to rest his head upon the Jaguar's frame and side in the silence that would be to follow. It was only when he was half asleep, that he noticed Itachi's fingers in his hair, humming tunes and undoing his braids that Fushimi let his tears fall. The grief he held deep but knew it'll rise at any time for those he loved and missed dearly. Fushimi felt better, weight lifting with ease tear but it was the safety of Itachi that made it all the better for him. That, was something he had missed since his Grandfather's passing and now --- now he could let that man go and give that role to his wife who has been with him through thick and thin just as intense.

@dcwnrisen

#« ( Fushimi ) » IC.#» ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇ #just a lil somethin'#keep the writing mojo alive #FUSHIMI & ITACHI ╱ Whatever our souls are made of - his and mine are the same. ❣

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yoshizora · 2 years ago

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How do you make MomoMegu so cute and charming???

Besides this one dōjin artist I don't know that many people that make much MomoMegu stuff, but your content is just. So cute??? Like even with some of your theoretically weirder content (like with the fic on cooking tengu egg) it's just. Absolutely adorable?????? How do you do it???

THANK YOU SM...... i aim to make them cute... this makes me rly happy to hear

i'm curious which dojin artist you're talking abt because i know of at least 2 who (more or less) consistently make content for momomegu! plutoknights has put out two momomegu dojin, and hisona has three. there's several other artists on twitter as well— it's a surprisingly popular ship for one that's from a more recent game, i think!

#yoshizorask #anonymous #admittedly i don't pay much attention to the english-speaking side of fandom so idk there #but k0nfette has drawn a couple v cute momomegus #kimon also has spicy momomegu biting art but they are thai not english

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maybeimavillain-byleif · 2 years ago

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Since it seems like it interests some of you, now I'm going to talk about kappas and also kitsunes. Both come from the Japanese folklore. The kappa (河童) is a legendary Japanese creature, also known as a yōkai (妖怪) (or translated as "demons", "spirits") that lives in lakes, rivers and ponds. The appearance is just like they draw it in the game. Kappas are also known to be mischievous troublemakers, going from little innocent jokes, like noisy flatulence or looking under the women kimons to some more problematic like, also said in game, to kidnap kids (this is just one of the things they do) to, in the end, eat them. It's also believed that they are obsessed with etiquette and, just like in the game, if you bow to them they will do the same and if you make them bow too much the water they have on their head will fall even though it's said that if you fill their bowl-like leaf of lily on the head with the same water they live in, they will serve you for eternity. Kappas are also curious about humans so they play with them at shōgi, as explained in the game by Ykhar. They are also capable of speaking and understanding Japanese, that's why the Master Kappa, the first thing he told us was 初めまして。that means "Nice to meet you". Kappas can also become friends of humans in exchange of gifts, one of them being cucumbers, as they love them, and that's why in the game is advisable to take the kukumis to the kappas and to feed Elliot. And that's more or less what there is to know about them. Now let's talk about the kitsunes. First of all, the word kitsune (狐) means "fox", it's used referred for both the animal and the spirit. They are known to be very intelligent, and developing supernatural powers as they get old, for example, they can change their aspect and assume a human form (most of the time being a woman but not always) to trick anyone. It's also said that the more a kitsune gets old and wise, the more tails it will have to a maximum of nine. Some of their ability are creating illusions, just like Koori, but also the spiritual possession, the ability to breathe fire or lightning from the mouth or tails, the ability to enter in dreams, invisibility, flying. Some says that they have a more powerful ability like becoming something else beside a human, modifying the space and time and making people go crazy. In Japan there are also those masks representing a kitsune. This came in my mind when Erika said that Tenjin's archers all had this mask on. Those masks are usually wore in festivals. That's it. It took a while doing this but I hope it could have been interesting knowing these curiosities. Tomorrow I'll post the names I searched the meaning of (just writing the name and its meaning without explanation)

#eldarya #eldarya the origins #eldarya a new era

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the-banks-of-lethe · 1 month ago

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A little bit about my worship!

I wanted to share some more personal stuff today. Nothing heavy dw.

Despite being a Hypnos devotee, and having been practicing dreamwork even before I found helpol, I rarely see Lord Hypnos in my dreams. I have a few times, but not often. In fact, more often than not, I will see Lord Dionysos in my dreams speaking to me. I am not devoted to him; of course by no means do you need to be devoted to a deity in order to recieve dream messages, however I do find it slightly odd in my case. It does bother me slightly, maybe not 'bother' but it does make me a little sad; I'm slowly getting used to this though. I feel as though not just me, but others too, find it strange when worship doesn't work out the way we thought in our heads. But that's okay; just because it's different doesn't mean it's bad.

In fact I rarely have dreams that mean something. Of course I do occasionally, but its not as frequent as one might expect from someone who is devoted to sleep.

The few times I have seen Lord Hypnos in my dreams, it was him confirming something big for me. So I feel as though, personally, he only "interrupts" my dreams for important messages.

This feels like a confession on my end, even though I know it's not. It's really just a reminder to myself (and others if you can take anything away from this) that your expectations of worship will most likely be different to what actually happens. And that it's totally okay.

May blessings be upon you, and sweet dreams 💙

#the banks of lethe #kimon speaks #lord hypnos #hypnos deity #hypnos devotee #hypnos shrine #hellenic polytheism #hellenic polythiest #hypnos god

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nerdpokemonheadcanons · 5 years ago

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Speaking of religions, what else are there outside of Hoopa Unbound, Arceus, Helix and Giratina?

There are lots of them! Those four are just the biggest

The indigenous people of Alola worship the four island guardians (Tapuism), although there’s a much older religion in the region that worships the island itself (it doesn’t have a name, but some theologists call it “pantheism”)

Auraism is the major religion in Kalos. It focuses on Xerneas, Yveltal, and Zygarde. I can’t say much about it, the town I grew up in was very one-sided when it came to religion.

Before Arceus’ church became the biggest in the eastern regions, Johto had a faith that followed the three legendary dogs (sometimes called kimonism)

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intcritus · 1 year ago

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🕯️🕯️- fushimiiii

a warm, tender expression eases over itachi's expression. there's something about his husband that brings out the more softer side of his heart; that emotional part that is completely suffused with unfiltered joy at how much he loves him. how much fushimi has grown with him. every part of their journey is always there, in his mind, first and foremost. playing back like a camera reel. all the ups and downs, but most of all, the pivotal moments. the elation, exchanging vows, their first ' i love yous'. no one could ever replace these things that fushimi had willingly and selflessly given him, time and time again.

there no words in any language that could properly articulate what he feels for his husband. ❝ ━ sometimes when i'm surrounded by our children, i'm reminded of how much he fills up my life. how both of us have come so far, how deeply our families have become entwined. but most of all, of how if he needed my heart, i'd give it up just to know he'd keep breathing for our family. ❞ not that fushimi would be okay with that, but even so it makes him smile.

itachi doesn't feel adequate enough to continue to talk about how much. ❝ ━ some say that loving yourself before loving someone else is needed, but fushimi made me realize just how wrong people are. the way i love him ? the way he loves me ? it's the stuff that poets write about. why people are willing to sacrifice their own happiness. and even five years into marriage ? it still steals my breath away. he's diligent, a wonderful father, always hard at work as oyabun and no one is competing against him in how protective he is with me. he's just.....i love him so much.❞

❝ ━....some kids will never be as lucky as we all are. he's invested in each of our futures, in our worries, in how we're feeling at any time. a lot of kids will never get to say the same. ❞ toya is not ibuki with how open she is with her emotions, or seiji who doesn't have a filter with his mouth. no, toya is the one who often sits back ruminates in his emotion, not as a kimon child, but the child of two people who are so in tune with their child. especially fushimi, his papa made sure they could defend themselves. he made sure they didn't just give into rage, to hone it, to learn everything there was to learn. spoiled with affection and attention but they learned patience, self-confidence and how important family was. ❝ ━ papa is one of a kind. he's attentive, and a great listener. possibly the best father and simply cannot be compared to. he would destroy the world for us, without hesitation and i speak for all my siblings when i say we'd do the same. ❞ papa is king, just as okaasan is queen and our kingdom is secure, even when darkness threatens to creep in.

send me 🕯️to hear my character's inner thoughts about your character. / @nvrcmplt

#nvrcmplt #( kimon heir ic. )#🍂◦ ✧ ✩ itachi u. ( ic )#KIMON FAM. ╱ » family is a forest whose roots make up a dynasty.#🥀. » FUSHIMI. ai okuu ni oyobu.#👑ˑ » ( answered. ) ᶜʰᵒᵒˢᶤᶰᵍ ᵇᵉᵗʷᵉᵉᶰ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵘᶜᵗᶤᵒᶰ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵖᵉᵃᶜᵉˑ

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the-real-rg · 5 years ago

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Devi stood alone in a stranger’s bedroom, staring into a mirror with wild eyes. She knew why she was here: she was going to be killed.

She staggered backwards on unfamiliar legs, hands trembling and vision blurring. Her stomach flipped with the wrongness of it all, and she groaned, nauseous, clutching at her eyes with too-small hands. Fuck, fuck. The strides were too short, fingers too thin, skin too smooth. Everything too--too--

Strange. Foreign. Stolen.

This wasn’t her body. This wasn’t Devi. This was Desdemona, God Queen and bitch almighty. What had Kimon done to her?

She almost laughed, hysteric, but the sound was cut short as she tripped over her own ankles, tumbling backwards onto the canopy bed. The curtains burst apart as she fell through them, before curling back around her like the wings of some great dragon.

With her legs tangled in thick fabric, heart hammering in her chest, Devi tried to breathe and gagged instead, choked by fear and guilt and grief in equal measure. This body wasn’t hers, and her skin crawled as if there were ants buried beneath her flesh. Her ribs ached, her stomach turned, adrenaline roared in her ears.

Vulnerable, something in her pressed, but it was distant beneath the buzz of her scrambling mind. Kimon had--Kimon had--

You are vulnerable.

The thought, and the cold, piercing fear that came with it, crept down her spine like ice water, chilling Devi to her core.

You can’t stay like this.

With a shuddering inhale, Devi blinked once, twice, and dragged her too-light body into a sitting position. Desdemona’s bedroom titled back into vision, partially obscured by the thick curtains cloaking the bed. Vision throbbing in and out of focus, Devi tried to stay grounded as her mind threatened to teeter back off the edge again.

Not safe, a voice thrummed.

How could he? How could he? her heart wailed. Alphonse is dead. I didn’t mean it.

What had Kimon done to her? Why? Why?

Devi twitched her unfamiliar fingers, and nearly laughed.

It’s obvious what he did to her--he decided to improvise and shoved her into Desdemona’s body so he could kill two birds with one stone. Devi had threatened to kill him but she hadn’t thought he’d do this. She’d been… well, not bluffing, she certainly might have killed him yesterday, but he must have known that it was just because of grief. Alphonse--her best friend--had just been executed right in front of her, of course Devi was going to say things she didn’t mean! That was no reason to--reason to--

Devi wanted to sob, curling forward and pressing her face into her hands as grief overtook her. She jerked back almost immediately, the skin on her palm was eerily smooth, like a snake’s. Devi hurriedly sat on her hands and pressed her forehead to her knees, grinding her eyes shut. Tears threatened to prickle out, and disgust flared in her chest. She didn’t have time for tears. She needed to calm down She needed to breathe.

All she really wanted was to go back home to Ahava, where she was safe.

The silky fabric of Desdemona’s sleeping pants didn’t do anything to distract Devi from the way she was currently living in the stolen body of a genocidal maniac, but it was better than the mismatched hands. Devi was used to calloused, rough fingers that felt more like stone than skin, not these soft, fragile curves.

She inhaled, the scent of lavender and sleeping herbs wafting off the fabric, and exhaled, slowly. Devi needed to calm down if she wanted to survive. Kimon would be relying on her disorientation when he came to kill her. She needed to get out of here, figure out a plan to disappear--Devi was in danger so long as Kimon knew where she was.

The thudding of knuckles on wood clattered into Devi’s skull and she jerked her head up. Her eyes fixed on the door and panic twisted in her chest. Oh, God. Devi didn’t know enough about Desdemona to impersonate her, she could be caught. She could be killed. Biting her tongue, fear soaking She waited, silently, praying whoever was outside would leave.

Another series of knocks sounded, and Devi bit back a whine.

“Queen Desdemona?” a soft, nervous voice called from behind the door. “Are you alright, Your Majesty? May we come in?”

‘We’? Who the fuck was ‘we’? She batted her confusion aside, something needed to be done about them. Desdemona’s day had to proceed as normal if she was to retain her cover.

“Pro--” Devi choked on her words. The sound was too smooth--supple, nothing at all like Devi’s usual grain. That voice wasn’t hers. Of course not, some part of her chastised, it’s Desdemona’s. She swallowed, coughed, and tried again, rubbing her neck. “Proceed!”

Hopefully whoever was outside wasn’t her murderer.

The door swung open on well-oiled hinges, the carvings on the front of the door glistening as sunlight poured into the room. Devi blinked against the brightness as a team of six women in puffy dresses, cut off at the mid-calf and tied with aprons, puttered into the room. Most of the dresses were simple and brown, but one had a pale blue dress with slight embroidery. The women looked horribly out of place in the red motif of Desdemona’s bedroom, but Devi recognized them immediately. They were the Queen’s handmaidens.

She sighed, relieved, and let the tension go in her shoulders. These women were hand-picked by Desdemona, every single one of them Insensitive. In short, there wasn’t a chance in hell they were working for Kimon.

Blue-dress blinked at Devi for a moment, concern knitting her brows together. Was Desdemona supposed to be doing something? Oh, right. Devi lurched to her feet abruptly, but her leg got caught in the curtain, and she staggered, nearly tumbling to the floor. She could feel her dignity shatter as a worried chitter rose from the gathered women. Blue-dress hushed them quietly, a stern look fluttering across her face.

“Your Majesty,” she greeted with a low curtsey, the other maidens following suit. Devi tried not to squirm, unused to such formalities. “We’ve prepared the outfit you requested for the day, but I’m afraid there are some… pending changes to your schedule that need your approval.”

Devi tried to think of how Desdemona would react to that, but she had no idea, and just nodded gruffly as she was ushered to a small platform in the far side of the room, three full length mirrors around it. Devi had no idea how she missed it earlier. Panic, probably. Devi had only ever been here once, and her mind had been quite eager to find a mirror, any mirror, not necessarily the biggest one.

Blue-dress continued, "Your hunting trip with the Duchess of Merenfelle has been postponed until four, to account for the emergency meeting with the High Court this morning. Travel times have been extended considerably due to the delayed departure." She opened her mouth, closed it again, and then proceeded, a twinkle in her green eyes. "Of course, you could always forego the meeting and leave the High Court to their devices. After all, it would be such a shame to jeopardize your relationship with the provinces over one botched assassination attempt, if you can even call it that."

Blue-dress was obviously talking about the brawl Devi had with Barachiel yesterday. Was it really been serious enough that the Court is gathering to discuss it? Barachiel had been in fights before...

“No.” Best not to interfere with anything, lest she reveal herself. "I think it would be best to stick to the preconceived order of events."

Blue-dress arched her eyebrows incredulously at Devi. Had that been the wrong thing to say? Eye contact between the two women was broken a moment later when two other maids raised Devi’s arms and removed her top in a swift, smooth motion. Devi bit her tongue to keep from squawking, glancing down at the handmaidens fussing around Desdemona’s chosen ensemble like bees. Thank God Desdemona slept in some kind of bra, or Devi would have immediately leapt to cover herself.

She’d been dressed like this once before, on a diplomatic errand with Amator, though she couldn’t remember which nation it was for the life of her. They had been a very hospitable people. Overly so. This was a plain uncomfortable way to get dressed.

Devi fumbled with the sleeves of a white slip two of the maidens had shoved down onto her head, and found herself unable to identify the material. The only thing she really knew was that it moved beautifully. Desdemona had successfully managed to merge her need for beauty with her pragmaticism, then. After managing to slot her arms into their places, Devi allowed another maid to do the button at the back, carefully trying to balance in this unfamiliar body as her pants were stripped off.

“Is that the only ‘pending change’ to my schedule, then?”

“Oh no, there are others, Your Majesty. Most pressingly, Actin-- Pardon, forgive me. Most pressingly, High General Gemini wishes to speak with you. She’s waiting for you outside right now.”

Devi blinked. Gemini? She knew an opportunity when it bit her in the ass. If she could get a moment alone with her niece than she’d be able to clear up this whole mess. Devi doubted Gemini would knowingly aid Kimon in the murder of her own aunt. Gem probably didn’t know the full story. If she could just tell her…

“Has she said what she wants?” It was getting easier to speak in a stranger’s voice, now. The conversation had helped ease her into it, and now Devi was fond of how effortlessly feminine it was.

Blue-dress side-eyed Devi for a moment as she stumbled into a pair of white, form-fitting pants. “She said you would know, Queen Desdemona, but insisted that it was urgent and could take up to an hour. Barachiel has similarly requested your presence, but he wishes to see you after the meeting, rather than before, but he suggests that he’ll need at least 2 hours with you. You’d have to postpone your hunting trip even further to accommodate that and--” Devi nearly fell over herself again, still trying to put on her pants as handmaidens continued to flutter about her. “Are you feeling quite well? You seem awfully disoriented this morning.”

“Ah,” Devi paused, trying to right herself, desperately trying to think of a suitable lie. “I’m just a bit shaken is all. Barachiel’s near-death experience kept me up last night.”

The maiden squirreled her face up at Devi for a moment, before relaxing.

“I’m sorry to hear that, it must be quite concerning indeed, knowing that you could be the next in a line of attacks. Hopefully the Guard will bring in the criminal responsible shortly. Though,” and mischief tinted blue-dress’s voice, “given their track record they’re much more likely to just get drunk with her, it was quite wise of you to assign some of the Royal Guard to the case as well, if I may be so bold as to say so.”

With talk like that miss blue-dress and Desdemona must have been close, but Devi’s mind was elsewhere. She hadn’t considered the possibility that there might be guards on her tail. Heavens, first Kimon’s forces and now this? Devi was doomed.

The last place she remembered being was Kimon’s safe house. Surely, if her body was still there she’d be dead already, so where was it? Who had moved it? Had it even been moved, or was Kimon just biding his time?

Devi swallowed thickly, allowing for a pair of hands to tuck something like a dress around her lithe torso. Lithe, fuck now there was a word Devi never thought she’d use to describe herself. She’d always been bulky, shoulders too wide set for her tastes and a constant source of dysphoria.

“My,” blue-dress breathed, even as another maiden fumbled with the buttons at Devi’s back, “you do look fine in this attire, Your Majesty. The seamstress did a fabulous job, and the colours you picked are simply stunning.”

Devi flushed under the praise, and allowed herself to glance up and check the mirrors. She hadn’t wanted to look before, when she was less dressed. It felt strangely like peeping.

In the reflection before her stood Desdemona wearing a vivid royal blue dress that parted down the middle, licking down her sides and exposing white pant legs. Gold embroidery fluttered up the front of the close-fitting toppiece, matching the floral gild on the sides of the black riding boots. Sapphire earrings flashed from the sides of her face, and she couldn’t remember when they’d been put in. It was a simple outfit, in comparison to how many layers usually made up a High Court ensemble, but it fit her body like a glove, glittering in the dim light. Devi felt euphoric, giddy. She almost wanted to laugh. Normally Devi hated mirrors but…

Her hair was unbrushed, there wasn’t a dab of make-up on her face, she hadn’t even showered, this wasn’t even her body, but Devi had never felt prettier than in this moment. She looked gorgeous. Devi looked gorgeous. Hah! Who knew Desdemona could enjoy colours besides red?

She was shuffled off the platform and presented with a pair of black leather gloves that shone like ichor. They were symbols of wealth, of royalty, of death, and as she tugged them on, the tender innards slipping along her skin, the hair on the back of Devi’s neck prickled. They fit Desdemona’s bloodstained hands perfectly, dark as death and black as the void and glimmering like wolves’ eyes. As beautiful as this wealth was, these riches had been bought through genocide, and the realization of that came crashing down around Devi, pulse in her ears. This was the body of someone who had slaughtered thousands for their own benefit. And now Devi was someone who had slaughtered thousands for their own benefit. The face she wore was that of a murderer. She was the monster under the bed. The creature waiting in the dark.

Shaking under the weight of sins that were not truly her own, Devi flexed her fingers, expecting her soul to suddenly pry free of the bloodstained cage she found herself in. The gloves curled with the movement, the leather soft, sturdy, but with the slightest hesitation. A tension to it, like the gloves knew she wasn’t really who she claimed she was--a stolen crown uneasy on the head of a false Queen--and that cocktail of guilt and displacement made her vision lurch and head spin, even as a set of rings was nudged in her direction.

Devi mindlessly shoved the gold over the gloves, barely able to keep her fingers steady enough to put them on. But the simple action was soothing enough, and she was able to focus on the glimmering metal and richly coloured sapphire until the tremor left her hands and her heart regained its rhythm.

She didn’t even have a moment to breathe as she finished with the last ring before she was being tugged back towards vanity, the handmaids having no patience for her. In her peripheral, she could the women arming themselves with glittering palettes of makeup and finely-carved combs. Desdemona must have been fast to get ready, having memorized a routine so foreign to Devi. She’d known the Queen, once, but only in passing. They’d exchanged barely six words in total but anyone could recognize the intelligence and determination of the young advocate, campaigning for the rights of Magic Insensitives in a nation full of superstition and stigma. Amator had spoken highly of Desdemona, Barachiel even more so.

The beheading had been a surprise.

In a rush, Alphonse tumbled back into her mind, and with that all grief and memories that came with it. As images of his execution--of pummelling Barachiel, of threatening Kimon--flashed through her head, she blinked away tears and fixed her blurry vision on blue-dress. It was hard to do with people tugging her head every which way, all trying to get a better angle--but eventually, she met the woman’s eye.

Smothering the emotions threatening to spill from her lips--can’t grieve, not here, not now, not safe--she forced out, “You mentioned Barachiel wanted to meet with me?”

“To finalize his last will and testament, hopefully,” muttered one of the handmaidens to Devi’s left. Her mouth went dry. Was he really--?

At least he was still alive, at least you didn’t kill him.

She wouldn’t have known what to do with herself if she had. Devi couldn’t be made a murderer again.

As if sensing her turmoil, blue-dress coughed twice into her fist, unsubtly, and the handmaiden responsible for the comment immediately apologized with a curt bow.

“It’s about Gemini’s eventual ascension to the throne should anything… untimely… happen to him because of the attack. It’s all just review, of course,” she hurried, as if to prevent Desdemona’s temper from snapping. “He has perfect faith in your previously drafted documents regarding her status as his heir.”

“Then why on earth does he want to go over them?”

Devi winced as a comb was ripped through her hair. She was almost insulted on Desdemona’s behalf, had they done something wrong the first time? Had Barachiel suddenly decided he didn’t want Gemini as his heir?

“I can assure you that it’s nothing more than his usual paranoia,” blue-dress deadpanned, with all the enthusiasm of a woman who truly needed a drink. “He’s convinced himself someone edited the documents last night, though to what ends even he doesn’t seem to know and--” she cut herself off, “Well, I’m sure you know what I mean.”

Devi managed a frown around the brushed assaulting her face, getting better at the act as time went on, watching the application process out of the corner of her eye. Loathe as she was to admit it, Barachiel’s paranoia usually had some merit to it. If someone had edited Gemini’s inheritance rights, why? And who? And did it have anything to do with Kimon? Was Gemini going to be alright?

Devi wasn’t given any more time to dwell on it, as the handmaids whisked her away from the vanity and back to the full-length mirror. One quickly draped a thick cloak around her shoulders, securing it high around her neck.

It had the same gold embroidery dripping down its collar and shoulders that the dress had along its front. She swallowed against the stiff fabric, but it felt weightless as she moved her arms. Devi winced as her hair was yanked at again, before relaxing as it was released, the maiden fussing with it letting her hair fall down her back again.

The women stepped back with finality, checking over their work. A heavy silence sat in the room as Devi dragged her fingers through the newly made ponytail at the base of her head. Desdemona’s hair was straighter than she was used to. It was coarser than Ahava’s, too, the strands wiry against her palms, but the texture was an interesting change from the poofy bundle she was used to. Devi tugged her hand free, suddenly missing her usual face and appearance. Desdemona was beautiful, that had never been up for debate, but Devi didn’t feel like herself in this body.

As her eyes rolled down her reflection one last time, golden thread glittering in her peripheral, Devi wished she could look this pampered in her own form. She imagined meeting Ahava on the ballroom floor of some great gala, chandeliers glittering above them, each wearing the finest silks and the most vibrant jewels. Somehow Devi suspected that no matter the occasion Ahava would still find a way to sneak in wearing an ill-fitting tunic and muddy boots. The corners of Devi’s mouth twitched up at the thought, even as she tried to stifle the fond smile building in her chest. A sigh of relief lifted from one of the maids, and the gaggle began to shuffle out of Desdemona’s bedroom.

The last in the precession was blue-dress, but she paused just before the exit, the door swinging shut in front of her.

“Should I tell the high general that you'll be able to see her, my Queen?”

“Yes, please.”

“And King Barachiel's request?”

Guilt and grief roiled in her stomach. Even if she was able to pass for Desdemona in front of Barachiel, Devi didn’t want to see him. He reminded her too much of her crimes, too much of her inability to save Alphonse.

"I'm afraid I won't be able to indulge him today."

A smirk danced across blue-dress's lips.

“I hope you have fun on your hunting trip, do try not to shoot another Courtier this time.”

Devi couldn't help the smile that tumbled across her face. That sounded like a story she’d like to hear.

“I'll do my best.”

Blue-dress smiled fondly at her, before slipping out the door. It was strange, the notion that Desdemona had friends.

Devi sighed into the empty room, the click of the door marking her isolation. It was silent as death without the handmaidens. Gemini was waiting outside, and with her came escape, so long as Devi could find somewhere private to tell her. The handmaidens had been safe, what with their close relation to Desdemona, but the Royal Guard was more ambiguous. There were more of them, less carefully screened, which meant there was more of a chance some would take bribes, or be sympathetic to Kimon, or take the opportunity to murder the Queen themselves.

Devi wrung unfamiliar hands together. She missed being herself, missed Ahava. Being Queen was too stressful, she’d never even wanted to be involved in politics, much less rule a nation. Much less be the target of an assassination.

There was no use standing in the room, waiting, and steeling herself Devi swept towards the door, cape tugging delicately at her shoulders as it trailed behind her. With a beat of hesitation, she turned the knob, the ornate mold pressing into her palm. As it clicked open, and light filled Devi’s vision, a horrible feeling filled her gut.

book one: run says the devil | wip page | wip tag | get added to the tag list

#writeblr #amwriting #spilled ink #original writing #creative writing #fantasy #writers of tumblr #writing #writers #writeblr community #bstm #rstd:desdemona #rstd:devi

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reitziluz · 1 year ago

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"desire" for the oc ask

ah! i've actually done desire already. here's the post with it (and betrayal & nightmare), but i'll put the desire answers under the cut here too!

(here's the ask game post. i've gotten/done betrayal, desire, future, nightmare and secret so far.)

desire: What's one thing your OC wants more than anything in the world? Are they open with that desire? Why or why not? What would they do to fulfill it?

vaal: struggles to express any kind of desire and does not feel allowed to pursue them. e doesn't fully know what e wants, but… maybe to continue seeing new skies.

leskel: ascension. he will do anything to achieve it. extremely secretive.

#igotasked #continuing to vibrate with excitement about the oc stuff

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nvrcmplt · 1 year ago

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Ibuki returned from her classes early, and immediately sought out her papa. Peeking her head into his office, she grinned before rapping her knuckles against the wall, holding a hand out to him. ❝ ━ Sitting in this dark room is no good for your mood, let's go for a walk. Obaasan said she's coming by later. If she catches a whiff of you being upset, you know she'll dote on you. ❞ Not that any of them turned it down, they can all see where Kaasan got his gentle nature from, afterall. Seiji saw his sister and decided to amble over, leaning on the door jamb, pale brows rising, ❝ ━ No more work. It can be wait, outside we go. We can check on the seeds Kaasan and Obaasan planted recently. Come on, Papa, no time to waste. ❞

Sometimes it felt like he's marriage into the Uchiha, rather than Itachi marrying into the Kimon. It was a funny blend, how much his children, save three - all look more Uchiha coded. Dark hair and bright-eyed, manipulators since birth and knew the ins and outs of his mind like their Father, Itachi without needing to try hard. Though he was upright, with one of Kenta's people at his side holding a bundle of papers, sorting them over when Fushimi gave them over with finished signatures in place. The pair of them turned their attention to the Princess and a Prince once he popped his head inside too.

Fushimi could only sigh at their demands, turning his attention his attendant and dismissing them as he pushed back from his desk and proceed to stand tall. His back was thankful for it with a subtle pop but he moved with ease to walk towards his children. Taking Ibuki's arm in his own and cradling the back of Seiji's nape with his other hand. "You two are brats." Though they did nothing brattish for a while, it was his love for them shining through as he took them through the halls to get them to this garden spread. He'd be thankful for it soon enough but the venture of leaving work behind him did leave him in his thoughts. After all, it's not like he can turn it off, being the head - he had lots of people under his demand and protection. He should honestly just be sitting back and only be working through paperwork when his people needed his insight but… Fushimi was never a man to leave his family on their own in recent years.

Specially with the big change up of … illegal to legal matters. Speaking of which, he turned his high gaze down to his children either side of him. "Have you two thought about what you wish to do in the future when I'm no longer here?" A curious thought really - his children were born with silver spoons but held themselves with grace. Not much greed when the family has everything to give and a lot of love to the most secluded of all ranks. "Itachi and I will endorse you in whatever it is you want to do when you're of age. Speaking of it now will help you find a path and keep my worries at bay."

#intcritus #« ( Fushimi ) » Answers.#FUSHIMI & ITACHI ╱ Whatever our souls are made of - his and mine are the same. ❣#KIMON CLAN VERSE ／ Evergrowing Family Tree

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mysticmysterywrites-blog · 6 years ago

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Prompt #6

Hey, so this prompt ended up being over 2000 words. I'm telling you now, you absolutely do not have to match it. Like, you can choose to. This is something you can choose to do! But I'm not going to force you to, because I'm 9/10 not gonna match this fuckers length again for a good long time.

Anyway!

I'm kinda hoping for a male character as a reply? The character I'm writing is like, 100% homo of the sexual, and he absolutely fuck with your character a few times while they're traveling. That said, if you really want to play a female character, I'm not that hard to convince (being the massive fucking gay that I am). But also, might end up needing to wipe the romantic aspect from it!

At least w/ Kimon, anyway. His brothers fair game to all genders.

Real fast. Kimon and Thales are human twins, the first being a bard and the second a wizard. They have darker skin, with red-brown hair and brown eyes. Kimon keeps his styled a bit shorter, and sticks to wearing lots of blacks and greys like the emo fucker he is. Probably best known for playing fantasy My Chemical Romance in the middle of the night. Thales keeps his hair down to about his chest, and dresses up in robes and a barrage of colors and patterns thats insulting to anyone actually trying. He's actually p happy, as a person. And you know, the necromancer.

When he's 5 he trips and cuts his leg on the pointed ocean stones, the sea salt slipping into the wound with each lap of the water

He cries and cries and cries, letting the tears replace the ocean mist on his face. His mother eventually notices his screams and comes rushing over to check on him, but his brother watches the way the blood falls from his wound, eyes wide in facination, hand gripping his in an attempt to comfort him.

The memory is eventually forgotten with time, but the fascination is not, and the two of them take very different paths in life.

He starts learning the piano when he's 7, takes fascination in the way that it sounds and feels. Every touch of a new key is a new feeling of wonder and excitement, Eventually, he takes excitement in the way that the lights around him glitter and dance, turning to the tune of the piano. He gets caught like that, playing to lights that shouldn't be there.

His mother is hesitant, of course. Bards are well known for their love of travel, for never standing in one place. Their father was like that. Always wanting to travel and move, always wanting to explore the world. It got him killed, and screwed her leg up, and she didn't want that for her baby boys. She wanted them to live a comfortable, cushiony life. Something boring. Something safe.

However, eventually she relents. He's not a particularly happy child (and hell, even as an adult is admittedly not the tellitubbies sun.) But playing against the piano always made him smile, and she loves when he smiles.

Over the years, He learns to master the piano, and then the violin, then the flute, then the guatar, and even the harp. Always falls back to the piano, but finds just as much enjoyment in every other instrument he learns. Violin offers him the most mobility, however, and mobility eventually offers him places amongst parties of adventurers or caravans.

His brother studies book after text next to him, humming along to the songs he plays time and time again, and eventually is rewarded a stave for his troubles.

They leave home when they're 16.

It's a hard choice to make. Admittedly, they have a rather comfortable life. Their mother has money and resources. Earned her place amongst nobility, rather then born. She knows who to talk to, and how to talk to them, and as a result they all live comfortable lives.

But he wants to travel, and his brother is running out of books to study from. He craves knowledge, craves digging deeper into magic he shouldn't have access to. He doesn't understand it, at the time. He, personally, just wants to tell stories. Learn other people stories. Wants to learn stories that have been passed down time and time again, and pass them onto other people.

But his brother wants knowledge, the kind hidden behind lock and key deep in temples and forgotten cities.

And forgotten cities have some pretty damn kick-ass stories to tell.

When they're younger, there's this tiefling girl that comes to their house a lot.

Her names Laelia, and she has this absolutely gorgeous purple skin, and big horns that crook and curve down, following the curve of her back and curl of her black hair. Her eyes are a bright green color, and fingers and teeth are sharp and shinning. She scares his brother, at first. But, Their mother welcomes her with open arms, speaks curses of the girl's parents and their dismissal. Sometimes, she stays for months on end before her parents remember she exists, come and claim her once again.

But she always end up back at their house, and their mother teaches her how to stalk around in the shadows, how to take full advantage of the smallest blade. Her sons might have been magic users, but the girl becomes her daughter, and she gladly passes on her techniques to her as she would a child of her own blood.

She travels with them for a while. She grows close to dying three times, then meets a small group

Her last words to him weren't a goodbye. She didn't believe in goodbyes, whatever that meant. She believed that the word was "Kimon, watch out for your brother," she'd tell him, placing her hands on his shoulder and glancing over at him, "he's getting into some things that are far outside his payroll, if you get what I'm throwing down."

He raised an eyebrow, and at the time he didn't understand. She could see that, he thinks. So, she just sighs and mutters.

"Its- nevermind. Just focus on keeping yourself safe, babe," and then she'd smack him on the back of the head, and turn to walk away. ~~

They find the first book in a temple hidden away, seemingly lost to time itself. Its made of stone and gold, the shine of the metal seeming to dance through the cracks of the stone. Light struggles to make its way inside, and Thales lights their path with a small flame, just in front of the two of them.

Theres a skeleton in the middle of the floor, a body as forgotten as the temple, and stains that even sink into the cracks of the floor. They ignore it, and go about shuffling through the books and notes the deceased wizard had left behind.

Thales thumbs through it with fascination glinting in his eyes and mouth opening and shutting about every now and again. "It's powerful stuff," he mutters, mostly to himself, "I don't know if I've ever seen anything like it."

They spend over a month there, as his brother copies spell after spell down. He doesn't mind, because he's spent three months in towns writing down stories and local fables. But it still worries him, the way his fingers linger over the necromancy books for so long.

There's this girl they meet.

She's beautiful. Hair large, curly. Pure white against a nice tan. She dresses in pinks and whites, carries around a hammer larger then she is. Her skin is callous around her fingers, eyes are brighter then ocean water, and she has a laugh he thinks he could play a song to.

Kimon likes her well enough. Thales falls for her immediately.

The sound of her spine snapping is somehow both memorizing, and sickening.

His cat brings him a little dead bird one day. It's feathers are pulled out and it's guts are destroyed, and the little bastard looks so pleased with himself over it. He grumbles and goes to clean it up, but his brother snatches up the job before he has the chance. Whatever. He's always been a fucking weirdo.

He doesn't think much of it. Wizards were just kind of like that. Maybe he needed the bones, or the feathers. Maybe it was some rare kinda bird, or maybe he just liked the look of the thing. He wasn't one to judge, he supposed.

He comes back three days later, holds up the bird, fluttering and chirping and as happy as could be.

"Kimon," he tells him, hope barely stinging through his voice, "I think I could bring her back."

His brother leaves in the middle of the night, one night, and he doesn't bother coming back. Doesn't leave a note, doesn't say goodbye. He just fuckin' leaves, like the goddamn jackass he is. His anger is replaced by worry only when, two years later, he hears stories of a necromancer causing trouble on a snowy mountain.

There's a few times where he's wrong

There's a few times where he joins a party chasing after a necromancer, only for them to stumble across a cult, or some other dumbass wizard in over their head on the concept of their own power. He doesn't feel bad, helping to bring their end. He doesn't have a connection to them, doesn't feel the pain they do. But it's disappointing everytime. He wants to find his brother, wants to know hes okay.

But he almost always ends up jumping from the party, after they're done.

He meets up with Laelia's party again, travel with them to some sea side town he knows he's been to but doesn't remember the name of. He doesn't tell them about his brother, knows the looks Laelia gives him when he asks are knowing and worried.

They stop at a little in, one thats run down and near abandoned, but has maybe some of the best fries he's tastes in years. He preforms for them to snag them a free room, and thats where he meets them.

They're different. He doesn't know why, but they feel different. He lingers around for a bit, listens to the way they speak and the tales they spin. It might be eaves dropping, to a small degree, but he finds himself so inticed by their words that he doesn't care.

He only approaches them after they tell the tale of a necromancer they've taken down, and how they plan to hunt down another one sometime soon. "I hear you're going after a necromancer," the words feel foreign, sour on his tongue, despite the fact that he's said them time and time over, "Up north, right? How much are you paying?"

And then he separates from Laelia's party once more, to fall in line with them.

He sleeps with them about three times, overall

The first time was excusable. They were both drunk, and he was admittedly touch starved. Every moment their hand lingered against his arm, it shot a feeling of euphoria up into his side, made him see lights he didn't know existed. He tried to play his instrument that night, but the cords were sloppy, and tune was off, and all he succeeded in doing was making them laugh. And hell, their laughter was gorgeous. Waking up the next day curled into their side hadn't been surprised, but he found he couldn't care as much as he should have with a hang over.

The second time wasn't as easily excusable, so much as it was stupidity. Theres this dance they go to, you see. Need to get all dressed up for it, know how to slow dance and eat finger foods and shit. They need to get in and steal a book from the man running the party, something of an easy task. They're talking in private, somewhere quiet, more like arguing, when the doors open. He thinks too fast, doesn't think through his plan. All he knows is that they have papers, books that they shouldn't, and that could be anyone. He slams his lips down onto theirs, lets them linger as the intruders startle, then pass. Flustered, but not knowing any better as to what they've obtained. And they don't bother separating, at least for the night. They're both touch starved, both angry.

The third time? There was no excuse. Nothing he could blame it on. They'd been sitting out by the camp fire, as he plucked gently at the strings of his instrument and played a quiet tune. It was just the two of them, party members be damned. It was cold. They were both tired, both hungry. They'd move closer together, quietly- gratefully- taking in the warmth of the other body heat. He'd bitch at them for ruining the tune of the song he was playing, and they'd laugh at him for it. He'd place his head on their shoulder, place his violin down. Move closer. Kiss them.

They end up in his tent, and he ends up with cricks all up his back, and half a regret from the night earlier.

He tells himself not to get too attached to them. They're a means to an end, nothing more, nothing less.

But Dammit.

He likes them

Theres tubes, filled with green liquid he can't really see through fully, but can see enough through to make out the form of a person.

The basement becomes colder, especially as he hears familiar humming deeper in it.

He would have slept with them more, is the thing.

But despite being a bard, he can't seduce to save his fucking life, and they always shuffle away when he gets close. So he doesn't, and they move on with their lives.

There's this little cabin tucked away in the mountains that they stumble across. While it appears abandoned at first, it's worn and well loved on the interior, Ash and dust having collected, just as much as footsteps and food have. There's evidence of someone living there, but not evidence of there currently being someone THERE.

They find a door under a rug, and that's where they hit gold.

They travel together for at least a year.

They have a tendency to get, well. Sidetracked, is the thing. A small quest here leads to a bigger quest there, and suddenly something that should have only taken three months at most is taking a year to get done. Its an easy pattern to fall into. They're the first person he's felt compelled to stay around in a while, and he doesn't mind getting dragged off to do the next big thing.

Still. He worries what will happen, in the end.

He makes a choice he decides not to regret.

He changes his target.

He's always been good at adding buffs. He plays on the defensive, prefers not to get hit. But it's hard. It's hard to concentrate on protecting both teams. He doesn't want his brother dead, and his brother doesn't want to die, which makes him terrifying. Thales always had a good grasp on magic, and watching him use it against them turns his heart cold.

He could tell that his brother, at least, was picking up on something being off, the way he noticeably double takes at him. His mask covers only the base of his face, but his hat covers the rest of it. But he knows his play style is unique, knows his brother has watched him cast spells with his magic almost his entire life. He notices, about half way through, how Thales backs off. Opens his mouth to say something. Gets himself knocked out as a result of it.

The shriek of the violin stops the battle in it's tracks, and he's turning his heel as his brother falls to the ground. Passed out, he tells himself. He's hurt and bloody and tired, but his brother is only passed out. He looks over the eyes of the person he's been traveling with for over a year now, the person that sweeps his feet out from under him and plays with his heart.

He's not sure if what he feels is love, or lust, but it doesn't change the fact that he's pointing a knife at them.

"Let me make this very clear," he raises the bow of his violin up, something he liked to think was a little more threatening due to the curve of the end being sharpened, due to them having watched him fight time and time again, "If you touch him, any farther, I- I will kill you. Even you can't be /that/ fuckin stupid. Step OFF."

#Cherubplay #Dungeon and Dragons au #Original Character

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