#of magic in it. maybe its the crystals? but its not particularly the crystals and she cant lay her wand on it until

[chromecries]

FINE i'll say it again in case you werent listening, lizzie should be shelbys best friend bc HELLO shes a cat!!!!!!!!

[thevanillerose]

FIREFLY | GIYU x READER | DEMON SLAYER

~ WRITING COMMISSIONS ~ ~ PATREON ~ ~ KO-FI ~

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own anything except my own writing. All properties belong to their respective creators.

He was a man who never smiled.

At least, you had never seen it happen. You wondered if it were even possible.

Training recently had been rigorous. Ruthless, actually, and the weariness was setting in. You’d rarely seen Giyu because you were just too busy with everything else. You were ever so intrigued by him, but he never seemed to be around.

So when you did happen across him again, it was a bit of a surprise. Particularly where you found him.

A little up from where Hashira HQ was, at the top of one of the winding mountain paths, was a small, peaceful lake. Small enough to almost be a pond, it was situated in a spot that you might not find if you weren’t looking hard enough. Nestled in among rocks, laden with lush undergrowth greenery, it wasn’t easy to spot.

When you did though, the first time you’d come up here on an ‘extra training’ hike, you fell in love with this place. A tiny pocket of peace you could escape to whenever you had a break from being beasted back at the compound. 

You didn’t figure anyone else knew about it. So it shocked you, when you trekked up there again one night, and, panting and sweating, happened across him.

Giyu stood by the water’s edge, calmly, almost looking as if he were waiting for something. At first, you froze in place and almost considered turning back entirely. Maybe he wanted to be alone here. Certainly, it was the sort of place you came to for that reason. 

However, he seemed to have clocked your presence already, as, without even turning his head, he spoke softly:

“You don’t have to leave.”

A bit bewildered, you took a tentative step forward, moving past one of the rocks and placing your hand upon it. The uneven, mossy surface was still damp from the rain that had fallen earlier that day. The air had a humid feel to it.

“You…you’re sure?” Speaking to him always made you a little bit nervous, “I don’t want to interrupt anything-”

“You’re not interrupting anything.” he reassured you in a calm tone, turning to look at you, “Do you often come up here?”

Taking a breath that was shaky, you walked up to him. His moody eyes were fixed on you, but there was nothing standoffish about him. He was just…quiet. But Giyu was always quiet. That was just his way.

And he seemed to want to know. Genuinely.

“Yeah I…sometimes I do.” you came to stand beside him, looking out over the dark water, the moon reflected as a rippling crystal orb. The two of you simply took in the sight for a while, feeling a sense of total peace here.

“As do I. I’m surprised we haven’t run into one another here before.”

You gazed across at him. A stoic man, through and through. But there was something serene about his presence here. Something that made you feel reassured.

Giyu’s hand stretched out, delicately, and hovered above the water. At first, you wondered if he wouldn’t use his powers here. But instead, his hand turned over slowly, showing his palm to the stars, and he unfurled his fingers into a pose.

“...What are you doing?” you asked, but he hushed you. Buttoning your lip, you kept watching, slightly confused, until suddenly, something materialized.

Atop the tip of his slender finger, a tiny orb of light came to land. At first you believed this was some sort of new magic, but as it ebbed and glowed again, you could see the tiny body of a firefly.

“Ah~” your first word in a little while was a soft exhale of awe. Your delight only grew all the more, when the creature was soon joined by its companions.

It seemed to happen at once. The previously dim and shadowed lake, only illuminated by the moon, now began to shine all over. Tiny, seemingly insignificant little golden dots gathered together into a swathe of glimmer. A gorgeous sight.

“Wow…” you breathed, your own widened eyes reflecting the beauty you were witnessing. More and more seemed to materialize straight from the darkness, until it was almost as if it weren’t night at all. 

Eventually, you looked across at him. You’d been so taken aback by the beauty, only now did you turn to speak to Giyu again, intending to ask him; “Did you always know they were here?”It stunned you into silence though, when you saw his expression. 

He was smiling.

Stopping yourself from letting out a word, you pursed your lips, and showed a smile of your own. Looking back over the lake again, you simply took in the view, fireflies surrounding you. You simply made the most, quietly feeling grateful that he trusted you that much.

Wondering, if perhaps he felt the same way about you, as you had come to realize you felt about him.

Just wondering… Because in a moment like this, nothing needed to be said at all. A/N: Had to redo this one because my cat walked on my keyboard. Because of course she did.

Like my writing? I can write for you! Check out my WRITING COMMISSIONS!

[wishful-seeker]

How to Make Your Own Spells

(Or at least this is how i do it)

What makes a spell?

In my opinion, a spell or ritual is the physical act of manipulating the energy around and within us to achieve a specific goal. A spell can look like anything from a few spoken words, like a prayer, to weeks long complicated rituals. You can attempt to cast a spell with nothing but your voice and some intent, or a whole pile of ingredients and tools.

How do spells work?

If we look at rituals in folklore there are a few characteristics that most spells share, but every one is unique, and spells have worked for a looong time even with no set rules for them. In folklore, witchcraft has reoccurring traits, like the number 13 "dance around X 13 times", dancing is also mentioned often, and black animals like black hens, black cats, and black goats. But times have changed, we aren't okay with harming animals for spells, and thousands of people don't use the number 13 or dancing. So why do spells still work even though they all look completely different?

I like to think we as humans have innate power within us that we can choose to utilize in our own unique way. Some spells work really well for the people who made them, but don't do squat for others trying to cast them. I think this is because the act of making a spell or ritual personal, whether you made it from stratch or altared someone elses, is similar to signing a piece of your artwork. You create a bond with those specific actions with you energy, like putting a spiritual signature on it. I think this allows us to utilize our personal magic easier.

I think spells work no matter how they look because the one thing each spell has in common is that we are making a petition to the world and ourselves that we want to make something happen, and because we all have a little bit of magic in us, we can make these things happen.

It doesn't hurt to get friendly with the land spirits of your home, or your ancestors or what-not to help you preform magic. Its very likely outside help will increase spell success.

So how do i make a spell?

You can either be simple or extra with this.

First decide your goal or intent. The more specific, the better. I believe magic follows the path of least resistance so if you aren't very specific with your ask, things might happen in unpredictable ways. Saying "I want a promotion in my current job and enough money to move to a better place." Is better than "i want a better life."

Secondly decide if you want ingredients or tools. This could be herbs that you research correspondences for or crystals you research the metaphysical properties of. This could be items like a skeleton key, a feather you found, maybe a letter someone wrote. I find spells to be more powerful and easier to enjoy and connect with if you use sentimental items you feel particularly drawn to. You don't always need ingredients that have set correspondences, its okay to use things just because you have a good feeling about it or to put your own personal correspondence on things including trinkets, herbs, and crystals. When it comes to tools, like a pendulum, wand, or scrying mirror, you can use these if they feel fun, but they are not always necessary. Some tools can be very helpful in spells, pendulums and scrying mirrors can be used to speak with spirits during your ritual.

Next figure out what you want the spell to look like. This is where your creativity shines. You could do the classics everyone knows: spell bottles, spell candles, and sachet spells. Or you can do what intuitively feels right to you. I personally arrange my ingredients in a pretty way intuitively on a plate then light a candle on the plate, but spells can look like anything. Like i said before, in folklore there is a lot of dancing. A spell could be a dance you do around a fire, or for astral travel dance until you fall and leave your body. A spell can be an art project, perhaps a collage of pictures of things related to your spell. A spell could be something you cook and eat. Let your imagination go wild.

Next thing is optional but i feel like it helps. Im sure you have heard of wiccans casting a circle before each spell to trap certain energies in for the spell. You can do this but i personally like the opposite: creating a liminal space and thinning the veil to really open up to all the energy around me. You can create a liminal space either by being in one ex: at a crossroads, in the woods, at midnight, dusk, and dawn. Or you can make one by creating a 3 or 4 crossroads shape like you would cast a circle. These are both optional though.

Next lets talk about charging your spell and how to actually put energy into it. Again, you can do anything you want. You can charge by dancing, moving clockwise, singing, playing an instrument, meditating, visualizing energy coming from your hands or wand, anything you feel drawn to. For me personally i have to speak my intent allowed and imagine what it'll look like when my spell succeeds to charge it.

If you need inspiration for spells, folklore, fairytales, and stories in general can give you a good idea on what would be fun to do.

Hope this helps, stay punk.

[fanvoidkeith]

Veridian (Re)Beginnings

(a backstory for my newest D&D OC- Moss, a Warforged Ranger with a Sage background. this will probably make more sense to my DND group, but you're free to read it if you'd like!)

Moss was very good at following orders. Moss had- apparently- stood here in this forest for quite some time now, acquiring… well, moss. And mud, and bird's nests, and dirt. Leaves, too, though those never seemed to stay through the seasons changing. 

Though at some point, Moss had seemingly become… inactive, in terms of thought. Their eye crystals no longer glowed, allowing creatures to touch and hover near their motionless form. It was their nature, as animals, to find a home. 

Moss… wasn't sure if he had a home. Moss had stood in the forest long enough to be familiar with all of the sounds of the animals, and most of the weather conditions. The occasional traveler would marvel at the seemingly still statue before moving on, remarking on its slightly rusty appearance. Gold turning green, they would say. 

If Moss remembered how to speak, they would say, "Obviously. It's because of the moss. I'm Moss, and I am covered in green moss." But their mechanical tongue had stilled for so long that no one heard a peep, besides animals who startled and skittered at an occasional mechanical whir. Moss was alive, still, but no one could tell them anything about who he was. 

So Moss took a step forward, for the first time in a while. Crystalline lights crackled on, shining yellow beams into the dark night of the forest. Whirs and whines stuttered from their gears, a reluctant reminder of life within something that shouldn't have been conscious in the first place. It would go away soon, after Moss figured out where he was going. And probably took a few steps. 

So they moved forward. 

And forward. 

And forward, and onward, on until they reached a place to sit. Several of the trees had been cut down, and it was pouring rain. 

Moss didn't mind the rain. They never bothered with fine clothing or armor, due their integrated protection. A warforged had no particularly special bond with their clothes, but Moss liked their ranger's clothing. It was… comfortable. It withstood this long, and so it might even outlast Moss. An unlikely scenario, but an interesting one to opine. 

Moss wasn't sure people would enjoy the look of some random, soaking wet Warforged coming into town and asking about anything, so they gently removed what they could of animals and debris that hadn't already been shaken off or ran away. Moss picked off some of the moss on their body, feeling a small sense of… almost loss?... when it fell onto the ground. 

Maybe they could keep some of the green moss. It did look nice with their faded golden body, though most people probably wouldn't agree. 

Moss left some of the moss on their head, plucking it from where it would interfere with moving. Elsewise, it was fine where it was. As long as it didn't crawl inside their circuitry and magic- which was incredibly unlikely- Moss would be okay. 

Moss… felt fine. Though there was no people here, and people were probably resting. Moss had been resting for… They didn't know how long, so they started practicing using their voice again, frightening off the local creatures. They mentally apologized to the animals, then physically apologized, the words coming out as a garbled mess of static syllables. 

Moss practiced talking until the sun came up, where he just… watched the colors creep back into the sky. Dark blue was nice, and regular blue was nice too, but seeing the other colors of the sky fascinated Moss in a way that they couldn't compare to anything he remembered. 

Moss didn't remember much. There was a fight, something they were supposed to win for their fellow people… That, and researching… the forest. But that was it. Who won? Who was Moss fighting for? What was the research even about? And why did the moss-covered bow on Moss' back feel so familiar? 

None of those questions had an answer. Not that it mattered much to Moss, but he did wonder about it in the back of his thoughts. He pondered out loud, the words slowly becoming more recognizable the more they talked. Time passed, and the sun rose. Moss heard noise coming from the usual path that travelers used to pass by. It was sound of wheels, and trinkets, and that usually meant… Merchants attempting to sell their wares. 

Merchants knew plenty of things from their travels! Perfect! Maybe they could tell Moss about the nearest city. 

"Excuse me, I'm looking for-" Moss started to say, but was interrupted by a sudden shriek. It was indeed a merchant, startled by Moss' movements. 

"What in the nine hells-?!" 

"My apologies. I was just wondering where… The city is." 

"Well, pardon me, aren't you polite. The city I came from, or…?" 

Moss pointed in the direction of the way they wanted to go, opposite of where the merchant and their wares had come from. 

"Oh." The merchant told Moss about the city. They didn't understand a lot of the phrases that the merchant used to vaguely describe the place, but the merchant said it was good enough to stay in for a while. 

The merchant awkwardly inched away from Moss, obviously wanting to leave. So Moss left for the city without another word, their steps unintentionally heavy on the now dry dirt. 

It was time for Moss to see how the world had turned without them in it. 

[stardustizuku]

Why Miraculous LadyBug Is the Worst Thing To Happen To Magical Girl Genre in All Its History.

It would be easy to sit here and tell you all the logical reasons why Ladybug is a bad show. It has horrible pacing, it has low stakes, repetitive episodes, and a dialogue that is cringe worthy enough to get its own tiktok sound.

But saying that, would be beating a dead horse at this point. Everyone knows this show is a bunch of wasted potential, only made worse by a director who keeps thinking he created gold, when in fact he messed up in a lot of areas – particularly the fact that he’s a grown man who thinks he knows what little girls want.

I’m not here for that.

Particularly, because I can be quite forgiving to shows like this. I mean, they’re kids' shows! Meant for little girls, and I haven’t been one for a few years now. But I still enjoy them.

Why? Well, cause I’m a massive fan of Magical Girl animes. I love the glitter, the sparkles, the silly adventures with friends, and the transformation sequences! Even with all its flaws, I really like them. So, stories or shows that borrow from them, get a pass in all these things. 

I mean, I have fun re-watching WINX Club, I love Star Vs The Forces of Evil despite its flaws. Steven Universe holds a deep place in my heart and She-Ra is…She-Ra is in its very own league of how amazing it is.

So, no. Be it a very dumb show or a very smart one, I can have fun. It’s very rare when a show with, you know, glitter, girly stuff and animals CAN’T hold my attention.

But, well, MLB failed at that.

It’s just, not a good show.

I mean, it could be. But the age demographic would need to drop several, several age groups just to be barely watchable – and even then, I seriously doubt that it would be good for young girls to watch it. The lessons it teaches are concerning, to say the least.

And at this point, you may be thinking,

"Why do you care so much about this show? It’s dumb and you’ve acknowledged it treats its demographic as toddlers. Why do you care so much?"

Well, because I've been here... for a very, very long time.

Listen, I started watching Miraculous Ladybug, back when I was in high school. Maybe a bit old, but, hey, a lot of unique cartoons came out around that time. (Star Vs, Steven Universe, etc). So, I was hopeful. Really hopeful.

Mainly, because I was here before it EVEN premiered. I remember it. The original PV was 2D animated and it had this vague Princess Tutu vibes that JUST I couldn’t resist. It was clear as day that it borrowed a lot of its inspiration from magical girls from the 90's, probably even 80's.

The premise looked similar enough to Kaito Jeanne, and Kaito St. Tail for me to draw those conclusions.

It had a dynamic very similar to Princess Tutu and seemed like a mix of silly and dark like that one was.

To be honest, I could even see hints of Sugar Sugar Rune with Pierre and Felix.

Not to mention, the animation was beautiful.

I will never, never forget that scene with Chat looking at Ladybug starry-eyed under the Paris Moonlight. That was so beautiful, a genuine touch of romance that rang so similar to the Magical Girl animes I grew up with.

I was thrilled, I was excited. I wanted this show to succeed, before even the premier had dropped.

This is all to say -

I never came to this show with the intention for it to fail.

And I didn’t expect nor want it to be ground-breaking or a giant of the genre. I just hoped I could have a fun time.

I didn't want subversions, I didn't want it to be dark, or deep. All I wanted, was sparkles, fun and a good time.

So, when it first aired, I tried to stay positive. I tried to like it, even when it had all these massive red flags.

I’ve never been a big fan of 3D animation, and especially not how it’s used in Magical Girl animes. (We all know the disaster the first season of Sailor Moon Crystal was).

But I swallowed it down.

The characters were different from the original PV

But I swallowed it down.

The background scenery was bland and generic and hardly felt unique.

But I swallowed it down.

I was here since day 1. I was here when Stormy Weather premiered. I was here before many of you were, and

I swallowed it all down.

Because I really, really wanted this to be good.

And I really thought it would.

But things should have been made clear, when they fucked up the one thing they shouldn't. The one thing that held this all together. The one thing that kept me here even as everything was burning to the ground, and I was too naive to realize it.

They fucked up the thing that started all this, to begin with.

MasterList >> NEXT

[obsidianpen]

For the Volmione plot bunny, which trajectory would you have taken to?

oh boy here we go

okay so I imagine it going like this: hermione is working with the Head of Thought, an old witch whose name I probably change in my head all the time but we’ll go with Betty for now. Betty is a wily ol thing, about as possessive of her brains and and with Collecting them as slughorn was with students. She went to school with TR so she’s very excited when he gets added to her tank (maybe they were lovers, enemies, she just adores and or hates him, who knows, not me yet).

but the brains by themselves are powerless. When they’re in the tank they’re just suspended in time, sort of like a mental twilight zone (“they’re as cognizant as a school of fish, and about as interesting to watch,” says Betty as she strokes the glass of the tank). So, in order to properly study the minds within them, they need to allow the brains to animate. They have a very special impenetrable room where they do this, one that’s been enchanted with magic much older than anyone living in the department, where there are runes in place that both allow the brains to regain a body while also keeping them entrapped within the runic symbols in the room. (“Out of one fish bowl, into another!” Betty cackles). Here they can control what, if any memories they allow their subjects to have (“they tend to try to be very violent when we allow them to remember everything, up to the point of their tragic demises,” says Betty wisely).

but each brain has its own set of peculiarities when it animates. Morgana manifests as a raven more often than not, and when she does manifest as a witch, it’s short lived as she soon becomes a bird, trying and failing to escape the runes. Rowena Ravenclaw’s body always manifests with crystals growing out of her skin, particularly along the forehead, and she only ever speaks in riddles - no matter what memories that do or do not give her.

and Tom Riddle, they soon learn, has the strange quirk in that they never know what age body he’s going to be in when they animate him.

The first time, he’s a child with no memory of how he got there. He panics and cries, screaming that he’s not mad he’s not. They shut that one down pretty quickly. (“Fuck that,” Betty declares).

the next time they allow him most of his memories, up to last Christmas, they decide, and he manifests as the snakelike dark lord they all know and don’t love. After she talks to him, he guesses who Hermione is. In his mind, she and Harry recently escaped him, and she has no problem letting him know that it was her, that they got away because of her quick thinking, just like they had a so many times before. “Such a clever mudblood,” he hisses—before trying to violently disrupt the runes and attack her. Betty ends the animation spell before he can do much. (“He always was a sore loser,” Betty sighs).

anyway, it would go from there, with Voldemort starting to understand where he is and turning from angry violent captive to suddenly cool, collected, and charming. He starts to almost always manifest as the hottie young dark lord, disturbingly even when he isn’t allowed memories, like his subconscious survival mode mine that knows that’s the smart thing to do, and hermione finds herself animating him without Betty around (against the rules, ofc) just to talk/argue/yell at/etc him, because he’s just so intriguing and blah blah blah. And he’s obviously trying to wheedle his way out of the DoM somehow and she knows that but she keeps talking to him anyway.

meanwhile she can’t tell Harry or Ron anything about this because she’s an unspeakable and when they ask how work is she just says things like “even if I told you, you would never believe me.”

[honourablejester]

Thinking about homebrew deities for ttrpgs, I’ve been pondering deities that are not default humanoid. A while back I made a post about D&D 5e’s version of Spelljammer, where the Astral Sea is littered with the corpses of dead gods, and I posited what some of those vast corpses might look like:

“These are the deities of a thousand worlds and a thousand species and a thousand forgotten realms. They might look like anything. Shaped by the echoes of the god’s nature and its domains and its species. The dead sea god that looks like a vast alien whale, whose gut is filled with strange waters and strange creatures, and into whose belly the party must venture. A forgotten deity of knowledge whose vast skull now contains a calcified, crystalline ‘library’ with aeons of knowledge written in light onto spun fibres of crystal. A deity of madness, darkness and despair whose corpse is a labyrinthine maze of passages that leech will and soul the further you venture into them, a lingering undead malice that doesn’t want you dead so much as maddened and undone.”

And I’m coming back around to that now. Particularly the sea god who’s a vast alien whale, because space whales, but I’m thinking about gods that are not mostly humanoid figures a-la the RL Greek or Norse pantheons, but are fully alien or weird or just non-humanoid. (I’m including elves and dwarves and most broadly human-shaped fantasy races under ‘humanoid’ here). Gods that do not appear in humanoid form. Gods whose primary worshipers are other forms of life. Gods who are weird.

I do have a couple of homebrew deities that don’t appear in humanoid form already. Nuissas, goddess of primal darkness, who usually appears as a vast eyeless abyssal fish. Ket, the First and Formless, deity of primal evil, who as the titles suggest is formless and possibly doesn’t actual exist at all. And while I was looking at them, I did notice a little … A little mental bias maybe. Because both of them are primal deities. Primordial. The first and the formless. Nuissas is likely the oldest deity in her cosmology, the primeval darkness that existed before all things. Ket is the first and formless evil, the first malicious whisper of a thought a sentient being ever had. They’re primal. Elemental.

Which made me wonder … Do I consider non-humanoid forms to be more primitive than humanoid ones? Not consciously, but just instinctively? Looking at it, gods of civilisation, knowledge, invention, law, are they usually humanoid? What sets humans apart from beasts? Fire. Science. (Possibly also thumbs). Is there a bit of post-Enlightenment bias at work here. Heh.

Although, to be fair to myself, Ineia, my goddess of city and civilisation, is also a spider as well as a humanoid woman. But she’s still humanoid, she just needed extra arms for all the work. So. Not quite enough to count, methinks.

This is only an idle thought, I want to mull on the idea of non-humanoid deities some more. See what I come up with. I just wanted to note to myself, while I’m considering, to look beyond just the primal sorts of domains while I’m at it.

That said, I do still want a sea god who’s a vast alien whale with innards full of strange waters. Being eaten by a vast divine whale-god is just too entrenched an image, you know? Maybe also a deity of light and twilight who is a vast beautiful bioluminescent jellyfish. No, I’m not stuck on sea creatures over here, absolutely not. But if you had a waterworld setting, you could have a LOT of fun drawing up a fishy pantheon. The deity of invention and adaptation is a cephalopod. The deity of war is a mantis shrimp. The deity of trickery and hunger and malice is an anglerfish.

But even in a standard fantasy world, some deities that are not and have never been humanoid. A dwarven knowledge deity who is the stone itself, a vast tracery of mineral veins across the world that carry thoughts and dreams and memories. A deity of trickery and magic who turns out, at the base of all its million forms, to be a simple mote of potential, something that looks visually a bit like a will-o-wisp or a soot-sprite made of light, a thought given vaguely physical form. A forge-god who built themselves, a machine-thing of metal and magic that built itself limbs and systems and housing as it required them, a monument to self-expression and self-construction, function over form, with no care for the aesthetic sensibilities of lesser forms of life. A black hole that is the deity of absolute law, remorseless and inexorable and pitilessly even-handed. A deity of remorse and sacrifice and healing that formed from the regretful blade of a monstrous killer, given life and divinity by their final act of self-murder. Gods who are dark moons and balls of mangled flesh and rivers of space time and tiny trembling animals and perfectly mundane objects and abstract shapeless things. Gods who are weird and funky and abstract and just do not deign to appear in familiar form for mortals. If I must look like you for you to worship me, you are not worth my time. I shall appear as I am, or as I choose, and you must simply deal with it, or shatter, as you so choose. Heh.

Non-humanoid deities, is my point here. I need to think on it some. Heh.

[melsrainpod]

Probably spoilery, unsure at the time of writing this, thoughts about Wyrdwood under the cut. (Update: it's also rambly as all hell. You've been warned.)

I'm not sure if I can express my feelings about Oxventure: Wyrdwood right now. I'm not particularly sure what is it that I'm feeling, if I'm honest, but that's just a testament to how much there is to feel. Now that the season's over and there's more to come, there's gonna be this Heorth-shaped void in my metaforical fandom heart that I, for one, will be filling in by piecing fanlore into the shapes of the various districts.

The initial pitch of "folk horror Oxventure" was intriguing, but as not a big fan of horror I was more excited for just more of a serious tone and seeing how everyone in the oxboxtra(way) crew grew as a roleplayer. But oh wow, did they not only gain levels in roleplay, but apparently also everyone acquired proficiency in persuasion because this folk horror was somehow really up my alley. Unsettling, unnerving, genuinely scary monsters mixed with the psychological unease of not knowing when and how the magic will go wrong, interspersed with talks about throwing buckets over buildings or unexpected religion lore. Both the decision-making within combat and the casual chatter in calmer periods were rich with character and incredibly insightful.

Combat, by the way, was spectacular. I know Johnny isn't a big fan of combat, but after the usage of lair actions by the bear in the pit I genuinely whooped in excitement — the combat in this series is not only full of genuine stakes, but is also not boring to watch (props to all the producers and editors as well! lighting, sound effects, cuts to close-up rolls on initiative rolls — they are not unnoticed, I absolutely love it!). I think starting on fifth level was the right call, I just hope the group will get to level up for if not the second, maybe the third season and manages to nab some more cool powers. The mechanic of debt is also quite fun, although personally I would prefer for it to go off a bit more frequently, but I doubt it would be particularly fun to stop the game in the middle just to see who'll get 'loped just for the sake of more chaotic magic.

But speaking of magic and debt! Worldbuilding. Oh my absolute gods, the worldbuilding is so juicy. I want to know everything about Heorth. I want to know the courting rituals in Fennfold, where Willowfine is from. (I also want to know all the spellings, Johnny, please release the spellings guide, thank you very much, all the writers and theorists will be in the magical debt for you.) I want the map. It genuinely feels like Heorth is alive around everyone, and I want there to be more stories, big and small, set within its regions, because I truly think there's an almost onfinite number of them. I love the fact that the mysteries are now multi-layered — of course, we're trying to figure out why the magic got borked, but there are also questions of how the magic works, who is this Poor Man, who are those higher beings, and that's not even counting the side mysteries of common folk in Baelwood and Morven's death. It is crystal clear that Johnny has put their heart, sweat, and excitement into the worldbuilding and I would give a (non-monetary, because. well. real life geopolitics.) big value to get to see even one document of the hundreds on the google disc folder they have.

In short, absolutely bloody loved the season one. Can't wait for more. In the meantime, I've got some theories to write!

[one-and-a-half-yikes]

you've told us basic plot of the fantasy Au but how about the witch Au 👀?

Unless theres already a post about that if there is oppp- sorry

Oh the Witch AU has a plot, but I'm gonna be honest I never really figured out to integrate everything together lmao

The basic gist is that Fanny is (again) the protag. She's one of the most powerful witches there is in this universe, though she only was able to obtain this power via making a deal (it's NOT the Devil though that did cross my mind to add him). In exchange for this power she lost vision in one of her eyes, a flower sprouting from the socket, though she keeps that part hidden with bang of hair.

In universe she's known as the Iris Queen, in reference to purple irises sprouting wherever she has left devastation in her wake. Nobody has ever been able to kill her, and nobody is actually certain if she's really a mortal or not. I'm here to say she technically is but isn't. I mean you could kill her, but it'd be a complicated process. Especially when taking her familiar into account.

With the power granted to her, came a gift of sorts though Fanny cannot begin to fathom why the beast she made a deal with would do such a thing. The familiar is a massive snake, looks like a tree viper to be specific. It can camouflage itself and shrink to a normal size if it chooses to. What's odd is, well, everything about it. Can't put her finger on it but there's something wrong about it.

And she's right! Because that snake belongs to someone else! :D

Okay so originally, I never had an actual main antagonist for this AU. Maybe the cult but that was it really. Until like, a couple of months ago when I was struck with inspo via doomed yuri. There was no correlation between those two things btw it just happened that way lmao.

I haven't come up with a name or design for this antagonist yet but they are worshipped by a cult and are some kind of eldritch being of sorts with the ability to shift through memories, space, and time. They particularly love people with trauma though. And Fanny has a lot of it. Which makes her a prime target. Of course, it's not the only reason she's a prime target.

Remember the snake? Yeah that's theirs. As is the power granted to Fanny. You can imagine that would piss it off quite a lot. The cult understands this and a few years ago before the start of the story (in my head) Fanny was successfully captured by this cult. But she was able to escape though with the cuffs of the chains still on her.

She did come face to face with the villain though while escaping and had her ass handed to her quite thoroughly. Good news is she still got away.

Okay so where the story started to go to shit was that I needed Fanny to interact with the cult again, but more importantly, I needed her to interact with the other characters as well.

Because Cuphead, Holly, Boris & Bendy (Bendy is a familiar in this), and Alice were supposed to be the main ones accompanying her on her journey. Specifically I wanted her to meet them because she's trying to get these chains off which she hasn't been able to do for years. Her familiar is the only reason she's still alive alongside everything else I've mentioned. But the problem with the chains still on her is that using any amount of magic energy causes magic erosion (when the soul & body cannot contain magic anymore so it enters the physical body and starts to basically devour/decay it) so she can't use her powers as much as she'd like to.

(Also should say magic erosion looks like cracks forming on the body or single body part. At its worst stage the whole body or body part crystallizes and shatters. And yes the whole process is painful, incredibly so. Magic erosion can also lead to magic poisoning in some cases which is completely different and it's more like a disease or infection slowly spreading over the body. Sometimes you can get both!)

And where I have since left off with this plot is Fanny was recommended by pure happenchance of encountering another witch, a sea witch, who claims that a certain witch farther south could help her with her problem because they'd done something similar with her.

That witch is called by many names: the Blood Witch, Witch of Sin, the Scarlet Witch, etc.

It's Cuphead. It's just Cuphead.

And that's where the plot left off last I checked.

And yes, I have ✨️designs✨️

Though it's only Cuphead and Fanny lol never really got around to doing anyone else's

Also! Apparently I wrote the plot for this AU but I have no fucking idea what any of this was meant to be-

THIS IS WHY WE WRITE SHIT DOWN PEOPLE!!!!! 😭💀

[terresdebrume]

Messrs Payne and Rowland's Adventuring Agency

Part 1: The Arrival of Young Crystal - 23

Getting there! This is going to get some SERIOUS revisions before it ever goes near AO3, but the general idea is built and at 13k some for the draft, I'm guessing it'll be a decent sized story xD Now, if someone could tell my gdoc to behave and stop pretending like I didn't write a couple thousands of new words in that whole Crystal & Charles v the early supermarket shift session, that would be great.

It's surprising how fast some things become familiar. They found an alleyway at the edge of the residential areas, calm but not quite deserted, and they're waiting for Mr. Payne to finish his incantations with a game of boulder parchment shears that Crystal is, as usual, winning with almost frustrating ease.

She'd have less luck if Charles actually paid attention to it, but at this point she's come to expect the way he keeps an eye on the mouth of the alley and another on Mr. Payne, always on the loukout for danger. Crystal is leaning against the wall beside him, aching and tired and looking forward for her not-a-treehouse of a room, with its comfy bed and its soft light. She is also, despite Charles' best efforts, still pissed.

"It's just not fair," she whispers angrily, trying to angle her mouth away from Mr. Payne, just in case now is the time he decides to pay attention to her again. "I don't even know how I did what I did! It's not like he can't learn combat spells in his precious books."

"You're really convinced he's jealous of you, aren't you?" Charles chuckles, and turns back to the front of the alley just in time to miss the flat stare Crystal throws his way.

Shouldn't he see it too? He said he and Mr. Payne have been partnered for longer than Crystal has been alive. Presumably. So how can he not see the way Mr. Payne grimaced every time Crystal's magic came up after their fight against the sea creature? Well, maybe he sees it and he's just trying to sweep it under the rug, but somehow Crystal doesnt think so. It would seem too... well, too underhanded, from what she's seen of Charles so far.

"I can't think of any other reason for the hostility," she says. "Other than him being a stuck up ass."

"You have to be a little patient," Charles says, finally turning back to fully look at her. "We haven't had anyone stay with us this long before-I know you don't remember right now, but most people would be unnerved at having an unexpected guest stay in their home indefinitely."

Crystal winces and looks away from Charles. He's not wrong. She is an imposition, she doesn't need her memories to realize that, but where the fuck else is she supposed to go? She has no idea where she's from, or what she can do aside from hitting things hard and apparently hurting them with her mind, it's not exactly the kind of skillset the city seems to need. Even if it were, well. It's not like she's seen an abundance of women in the city guards--there are some, yes, but not many, and all older than her. She can't sit on a bench until she's old enough to join.

"Ah," Charles says as the door of the agency clicks open. "Here we go."

He follows Mr. Payne inside, leaving Crystal literally on the outside looking in. The walls show the dark green of the office, always the first room they see upon arrival, which kind of makes sense. It's elegant and no nonsense, but not austere, at least not unless Mr. Payne decides to make it so. There's a sense of personnality in it, Charles' trinket mixed with his colleagues' books and manuals, and after almost two weeks coming back to it every night, Crystal has to admit there's a comfort in seeing it, too. She wonders if that's what it feels like for them. Coming home. She wonders if there's a place out there that'll give her the same feeling twenty years from now.

"You will have to make a choice eventually," Mr. Payne calls out, appearing in Crystal's field of vision like a particularly miffed ghost. "If that could happen sooner rather than later, we would all be quite grateful."

Crystal rolls her eyes and steps in, carefully hiding the small pinch of relief when the spell lets her in again. She bites her gauntlets off, first, then gets started on the rest of her buckles with a grunt of annoyance. Charles said she'd get better at it, but it's been a couple of days and frankly, right now she's not seeing it. At least she mostly figured out how not to snag her hair when she takes her breastplate off, but that doesn't prevent her from glaring at Charles when he comes in and chuckles at her.

"Shut up," she grumbles, stepping into the office and going straight for the bookshelves.

[zaceouiswriting]

Fairy Prince - Hearts of Leviathans - Ch.8

Character: Sky x male reader, Brandon x male reader, Riven x male reader

Universe: Winx Club/Winx Saga

Warnings: None

Out of nowhere, I could feel a particularly intense pair of eyes on me. Looking up from the animals around me, I could see the icy gaze of the same graceful woman who summoned these magical beasts. I dropped my arms in confusion. Her mood swings irritated me.

Why is she staring at me like that? She seems to be the director. And yet she doesn't know who I am?

I almost unconsciously stepped forward when a strange breeze flew past the back of my neck. Even more angry, I turn around quickly. Right in front of me is a guy with wavy blond hair. In his hands, handcuffs engraved with runes to stifle magic.

Immediately alert, I clenched my fist and punched the handsome blonde square in his face. A mask of disappointment, anger, and disgust is visible on my face for all to see as I look up again. Sudden horror ran down my spine when I could see a hawk in the distance, standing still in front of the Alfea Gate.

Someone really called the damn specialists about me? How dare this person? I even have a faint idea who that person might be. But right now, I can't do anything about it. Considering, the next guy is already coming my way: A tall man with short brown hair and a sword so large that if it were metal rather than a fusion of magical crystal and plasma energy, he would never be able to wield it.

I could barely roll out of his way. "You dishonorable bastard! I have no weapon!"

I looked up at him with wary eyes as I began to stand back up again, surrounded by a group of girls who were screaming as they realized what was happening. Staring into his hazelnut-brown eyes, I could see something odd. Confusion maybe? But he still did not put down his sword. "Then use your magic. You're a fairy, aren't you?” another guy called mockingly across the yard.

Thanks to his loud words, everyone who hadn't seen our little squabble now looked at us, making it impossible for me to take a secret getaway. And at this point, I wouldn't dare take my eyes off these idiots. What else could they do if they would do something as dishonorable as attacking someone without a weapon?

"I don't think that would be such a great idea, purple boy!" I mockingly called back at the guy. Before he could get a word out of his opening mouth, I snapped into a fighting stance, obviously shocking him. "After all, I don't want to accidentally cause serious damage to...dilettante rookies like you boys!" It effectively silenced him. Only his gaze became more intense.

"Yes, because you're not a fairy," he angrily screamed at me. "You freak!"

Before I could know it, my head turned from the brunette to his direction. As my face caught his boyish face, my anger had already grown to its limit. "Freak?" I ask him loudly. "Freak?"

Something in me shattered at that moment. Hearing something so disgusting, my will to restrain myself slowly breaks away. At first, however, they didn't worry too much - as the carefreeness on their faces clearly shows - when the ground started shaking under all our feet and not even when trees started falling right in front of the school.

But their faces twisted in fear when I finally released some of my restored magic; it flowed away from me in waves. But even I was surprised that a faint glow began to surround me. I've seen that before! My grandfather had the same glow he showed me when he coached me before the war when he wasn't the dick he is today. But my face quickly contorted from the heavy strain I imposed on myself by pulling rocks from underground. Only then did they really start to worry.

Barely off the side of my vision, I could see the tallest of the three: strong but with a bad posture. Close behind him, the blond with a straight back. He rolled his sword in his hand. He's obviously an aristocrat, judging by his posture and arrogant demeanor. Both are charging at me.

I didn't care for them. Not until their swords were dangerously close to my neck. Watching the sun glitter strangely off the plasma blade, I couldn't contain my annoyance. With a little grin, I then use a little trick I haven't used in a long time. One moment they were in front of me, and the next, they were right where they started.

Despite the enormous pressure I was putting myself under, I grinned at them. Only to turn back and look the purple-haired guy in the eye again. Horror crossed his face now. It gives me so much satisfaction that I almost stopped, but I've gone so far that I can't stop now.

So I have to go through with it. I gathered as much magic as possible and pulled a single spike out the ground. As the only clue that something was coming, I decided a grin would be perfect. And it really is. Not only because it completely upset the guy, but it also makes him obviously nervous.

I let out a scream so animalistic that most of the girls jumped away in fear, and some even went into their fairy wings stage to fly high in the air. It almost disturbed my concentration. For a second, I think about what I would look like with my own wings. Would I be half-naked like these girls?

But I banish those thoughts before I can lose my grip on the stone.

Instead, I focus more on the anger still seething in my stomach. Still, with the same grin, I finally ripped the stone out. With a speed no one could have guessed, the sharp end of the spike rushed toward the guy. Following him with my eyes, the grin on my lips turns into an evil smirk, waiting for the cruel effect.

Much to my surprise, a shield activates just before impact. Even the man with the purple hair has a look of confusion on his face. As soon as the thorn hit him, he was thrown into the air. But soon, he lands a few meters away, rolls up, and quickly stands proud again.

I'm already aware that my magic isn't that...adept, but this? It pisses me off that he could dismiss it so...easily. Besides that, I still wonder where that shield had come from. But that quickly answered itself when I averted my gaze back at the two other guys. Blondie's arm, still outstretched, told me everything I needed to know.

I can't answer why that is. It just makes me angry. So much so that I formed two more spikes with my left arm, pulled them out of the ground, and furiously attacked the other two guys. Oddly enough, the taller of the two - the brown-haired one - is extremely quick on his feet, ramming his sword into the ground and stopping the impact of the stone spikes like a damn turtle unfazed by a predator's teeth.

Realizing this guy would be a bigger problem, I chose a different attack pattern instead of spikes. Out of nowhere, discs jump out of the ground and throw them at their heads instead of their bodies.

As they got closer, my grin came back because I knew it was the end of them. I even take my eyes off them. 

Until I could hear it.

I immediately threw my head back at the duo. Only to see Blondie standing there: with his left leg extended slightly back and his right leg further forward, almost kneeling. His gaze sharpened as he stared at me.

"By the great Neloran. You really know how to make someone angry!” I say out loud, my eyes blazing with magic.

I take a small step forward and already have two more discs ready to throw. When out of nowhere, my arms fall stiff against my body. Confused, it breaks my concentration, forcing me to drop the discs. But they did not crack to my utter confusion.

Looking down at my body, I could see a strange rope around me, light purple in color. I know immediately who is brave or rather stupid enough to dare something like that. I catch him with my eyes. Now he's the one grinning. But I combine his grin with a grin of my own, which irritates him deliciously.

As I rebuilt my magic, the rope slowly got pushed away from my body. The moment the weird guy noticed this as well: he tightened the rope again, negating the magic. But before it could fully enter my head, a searing pain shot through me. "Ahhh," I yell sharply. With my eyes half open, I kept staring at the purple-haired guy. His grin had turned menacing.

If I don't do something quickly, he will actually bring me to my knees! No person has ever done that, and some rookie specialists won't be the first!

So, despite the pain, I search for the strength to breathe calmly. To refocus on the magic trapped in my body and allow it to flow back down into the ground. Everything seemed fine until it stopped flowing down. Shocked, I looked down as inconspicuously as possible. Even looking down and seeing what was stopping my magical flow, it took me a moment too long to realize it. The surging pain is getting too much. My body is ready to give up, bending my upper body forward so it looks like I'm bowing to this little bastard.

With my mind slowly blurring, I could not think of much. Before I could even attempt to think of a way to get out of that situation - which would probably have melted my brain - my body began to tense on its own. Slowly my shoes were torn apart by my magic. As soon as any part of my skin touches the ground, the electricity coursing through finally could be freed into the dirt. Allowing me to breathe easier.

I threw my head back with a sigh of relief. With my eyes wide open again, I lower my head. I immediately locked eyes with that bastard again. Horror is in his violet eyes as he sees my relaxed state. "How about you come closer?" I ask him kindly. Only to impatiently grab the taut rope and pull it.

Without much trouble, I pull him closer and closer. With a big grin and a maniac look in my eyes.

Even though I let out some of my suppressed thirst for blood, I didn't forget those around me. How could I? And, of course, the duo "Dumb and Stupid" had to try to trample on my little happiness. Their heavy steps draw my attention, almost like that of a Galagantuan—a beast of an animal, small but with a body so condensed you could feel every step for multiple meters. If only they were a little more graceful. They may have surprised me. After all, I would still be dealing with the cheeky purple guy.

Despite noticing the duo getting closer, I decided in a split second to keep an eye on Mr. Purple and pull him closer to me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see their shadows getting too close while also getting more rope.

As I watch the smaller of the two guys unsheath his sword, I twist my whole body sharply toward him. Looking into Blondie's eyes, I let go of the rope for a second but only let enough out of my hands for the purple guy to lose his footing. 

Watching everything out of the corner of my eye, my grin widened as I watched the purple guy completely lose his footing. Even if he hadn't, nothing would have changed in my plan. I quickly pulled hard on the rope and, with a little of my magic, catapulted him just inches into the air. This allows me to effortlessly drag him through the air so it looks like he's flying: directly into the Duo.

Finally, with a grin, my full attention lays on the duo, but to my surprise, I could only see one of them, the blonde, and he was a lot closer than I'd like. The guy just managed to dodge, slipping under the rope, getting his sword closer to my neck than last time.

My grin faded a little, feeling a sharp breeze touch my skin. On the other hand, he began to grin triumphantly, but mine was still on my lips as well. After all, I did not lose yet! I could tell quickly that it made him uncomfortable. Luckily, the guy on the rope finally landed. I didn't miss this opportunity for a second because it gives me exactly what I need at this moment. Without hesitation, I slam his sword away from me with my rope-bound body. As the blade flew away from me and the guy was still looking at it confused, I head-butt him.

As he falls, his nose begins to bleed profusely. It makes me grin even wider. Finally, I could free myself from the rope. Triumphantly. Turning slightly to look for the third idiot, I suddenly feel dizzy. Before I could comprehend it, my eyes close, leaving me in utter blackness. But my head isn't completely gone yet. I could feel dirt on my face, some liquid running down my neck, and finally, just moments after falling, someone picked me up off the hard ground.

As I was being carried, I regained sight for just a moment. I could see the purple guy dusting himself off and being taunted by the blond. Who almost looks majestic in the midday light beaming down on him. Something about him feels different.

But suddenly, he looks over at me. His gaze is ice cold, almost murderous. He harshly slaps the shoulder of the guy carrying me just as my sight blackened. Only this time, my mind slowly slipped into nothingness as well.

Out of nowhere, my head came out of nothingness, immediately feeling the all-so-well-known swaying of the hawk. I could hear voices, but before I could hear anything interesting, I lost myself in the darkness as quickly as I came to.

[Masterlist]

[chaosflight]

For Gemtaur AU: Since Garnet is her own character alongside Ruby sand Sapphire, will the other fusions exist/do exist on their own?

This is a tough one!

I'm honestly not sure how to handle other fusions in the world of ancient centaurworld. Garnet is CRUCIAL to the plot and themes of SU so there's simply no way this au could exist without her, but her creation is already very peculiar (and accidental, aha).

I think. I would like to have other fusions exist in the world in the same way Garnet does! However, I don't know if they'll be made by OUR gems- perhaps there's a Rainbow Quartz equivalent made (through magic) by a different Pearl and Rose Quartz equivalent elsewhere in the world?

For example:

A random deertaur and horsetaur! Let's call them Cara and Renneigh (yes that's a horse pun no i'm not sorry)

Renneigh is, as a horse centaur, fairly privileged and is expected to to maintain an air of class and grace... which means not dilly dallying with the servants. However, there's a deertaur that she's particularly fond of, and they become friends and start hanging and even fall in love! Because of the Dragon Shaman's beliefs and the strictness with which they're maintained, this is Bad. Each kind of centaur should only be with their own kind. Yay for fantasy racism (sarcasm. SARCASM.)

Much like Rue and Saff, them interacting outside of working together (or, more accurately, one working for the other) is HIGHLY FORBIDDEN. And centaurworld.. well, its inhabitants frequently defy even its own expectations.

Cara and Renneigh's love for each other might spark a new life- something that in SU we would recognize as a fusion- but here would become a separate entity in mind AND body.

Their child would probably look similar to a child spawned by Pearla and Rosa's love, if they ever had one. I don't know if that's in the cards for them at the moment, honestly! Maybe in the future?

One thing's for certain, though, Rosa's herd is where outcasts (and their possible fusion children) tend to go, so if we see any more fusions, they'll be very nearby! Perhaps Cara and Renneigh made their way to our herd (the crystal gems) with their son, Ranibow. (that name is not a typo. yes he's named after the meme. i'm hilarious.)

Perhaps he's even a playmate or cousin-figure to our little Steben!

The mixing of two different species (whether by magic or more mundane means) always results in something not quite like either the parents, though! A deer and a horse, in this instance, made a rainbow antelope! Maybe Pearla and Rosa would make a pink and blue zebra? Maybe they would make a donkey? A goat?? It's hard to say! Even two children from the same two parents (using the same method) would/could result in wildly different offspring (unless they're made at the same time, in cases of twins?)

What do yall think??

[yonemurishiroku]

there're angels landing on the shore

Featuring: Nico as the Elsa I once mentioned. Percy’s POV because Nico’s dead. what else do you expect from me? 

Written in a whimp so obviously i dont know if this is couple-y or not. Feel free to interpret it as you’d like. 

Read on AO3

Or read here:

Percy didn't know what he had expected when a naiad had come rushing to him in the middle of his and Annabeth's chat, half spluttering and half shouting to him about  something in the Lake. Maybe a monster attack, sure - considering how the water nymph had appeared utterly frightened and her water dress, usually so flowy, had looked like a cat had practiced scratching on it. The poor naiad had borderline begged Percy, stuttering words all jumbling together. 

So, although fighting monsters wasn't something he enjoyed doing in his rare summer holidays at Camp - now that he managed to escape the University, Percy had followed her without much hesitation, Annabeth hot on his heels. All their nerves were strung up, ready for a threat like usual. 

What greeted him at the Canoe Lake was not a monster, though.

The first thing Percy noticed was the chill. It hit him in the face and trickled down his spine like a spider weaving webs of dread. Percy had half a mind to chalk it up to the battle sensors he'd acquired throughout two great wars, now activated with the new alarm. 

That was until they burst through the trees and finally set feet down the familiar lake bank.

At first, Percy couldn't believe what he was seeing. 

What should have been green grass and blue waves lay in front of him in white and grey - just a shining, glinting pale blue of something transparent that had spilled over the patch of land where they stood and onto the water. Time seemed to still just then. 

"How..." Behind Percy, Annabeth gasped quietly.

Percy breathed in the fresh scent of rime, reeling with the freezing sensation it brought.  Ice  , his mind supplied, utterly confused,   in the middle of July . 

Far away, in the middle of the lake, the waves were still running, yet there was no lapping ripple where the water met the land that Percy could see. The muddy soil under his feet felt  unnaturally  cold and rough. The air prickled his skin like thousands of needles. Every breath clawed at his throat and lungs. It didn't feel like July, now, but more like Khione had decided to grace them with her sunless December magic. No wonder the naiad was scared.

Percy watched the sunlight shimmer iridescent across the spiky crystals. The frozen water stared back. Black smears fleeted through the cracks. They looked like lingering shadows, hiding and blinking up at him behind the pieces of mirror-like ice. 

And then, Percy saw  him.

Lying not far from them, a shade of ebony in the middle of icy diamonds, was one Nico di Angelo. 

He lay there, eyes closed and legs disappeared under the now frozen water, reclining against the gentle slope of the lake bank as if merely taking a nap under the blazing sun. Ice surrounded him, blooming from where he lay unmoving and spread across the lake as ink spilled. Its frigid touch turned everything brittle and frigid. Alone in the middle of ice blocks and thorns, the son of Hades looked not that different from an angel in the white clouds - if those clouds were also nails that impaled him on the glass, wings severed and waiting to be hung up.

Blood ran cold in Percy's veins.

"C-Call--" He choked back a guttural cry, "Call Will." He said and sprinted away without a reply from the daughter of Athena.

There was a lot of things 

The coldness cut at every step he took. Percy stumbled as he threw himself into ranges of glittering tiny mountains. There was more than one particularly spiky ice thorn that managed to pierce through his shoes and slash at his jeans, drawing blood. His breaths came out in white puffs. Percy barely registered his own reflection mingled with the fleeting shadows behind the frozen walls, those that seemed to be swirling around the son of Hades in a frantic dance. All of his survival instincts were screaming at him to turn back, getting louder the more verglas Percy nearly slipped on, trying to reach Nico. 

The son of Hades was so close, and yet the distance between them felt so vast, so impassable. 

He tried to use his power. Surely ice was also a form of water, right? Percy focused on the glaciers that trapped Nico's legs, finding the familiar pull in them and pushing them away from the son of Hades with all the determination he could muster. The ice groaned - a hauntingly frail cry - and shook. A piece broke away, and Percy had less than a second of relief before the mass of coldness nearly dragged Nico away with it to the water whereas the rest creaked ominously. He tried to push at them, but Poseidon's reign could do so much to Khione's creations. The rime seemed to swallow Nico. 

Percy managed to grab him before it did. He held onto the son of Hades and hauled him up the bank, pushing at the glaciers by his feet. Nico's jeans and shoes came up soaked. The water splashed at Percy and he couldn't help himself from cursing, shuddering. There was something in the coldness that bit at his skin and tugged at his veins. The looming shadows had yet to left. The icicles shattered into million pieces underneath them as Percy dragged Nico and himself up the bank. There was blood smeared on the glassy surface. Percy ignored that.

Instead, he examined the son of Hades. Nico didn't wake up. His eyes remained closed in an oblivious sleep. There was frost on his eyelashes and his dark hair had been nearly bleached white with all the ice stuck in it (Percy tried not to think about how it was similar to his own white streak, and how it made Nico look so much more ethereal. more unreachable ). His lips were bluish. Fractals blossomed on his cheeks. 

Nico was cold. Nico had always been cold. Percy couldn't remember touching the kid without at least two layers of fabric between their skin, and yet Nico's touch had always remained chilling in his impression. The Underworld clung to him like another skin. The kid was as close to a corpse as he could get. Now, though, when the only thing Percy could find in whatever patch of skin he managed to touch was a lifeless lack of heat, the fact terrified him more than it should.

Percy heard his heart drop. 

Shaking, he pressed his hand on the side of Nico's neck and searched. His senses sent ripples across the small body. Percy called out to the hot flow under the frozen skin and listened.

There was nothing.

The only thing he found was his own searing tears - drop by drop splattering before freezing over on Nico's pale cheeks.

[remidyal]

Remidyal's Fic Masterpost

A full list of my current fics, assuming I remember to update this post and pin it!

I love people doing derivative works and give blanket permission for any non-commercial art, podfic, etc SO LONG AS you do not use an AI or machine learning tool. Also, please link it to me because I wanna see.

Dimension 20 stuff:

Long fics:

Lunacy is my longest fic (at the time of writing this, about 180k words), an in-progress Adaine (and, particularly later, Aelwyn) focused fic in which Adaine fails her con save and becomes a werewolf. Similar overall in tone to the original, Lunacy strives pretty hard to be largely canon compliant from that divergence point, other than things that just are mostly changed for narrative needs. A heavy focus on Adaine (and again, later, Aelwyn) finding a family. There's two other works in the series; one is a short fic that was a draft oneshot of the core idea, the other is some supplemental material and missing scenes.

This thing is my baby and if you make art or recursive fic of it I will love it and you.

Missing is another in-progress long form fic, this one with Aelwyn as the main character and Adaine in the secondary role. This one is much less canon-compliant than Lunacy; the Abernant parents start on physical abuse sooner than they do in canon, and Aelwyn is a little bit braver and runs away, taking Adaine with her. Generally will have shorter chapters than Lunacy and definitely won't be going 250k words the way Lunacy probably will by the end.

Oneshots and short series:

Most of these are in the 1k-2k word range.

Fantasy High:

Poison and its sequel Bane focus on a very toxic relationship between Penelope Everpetal and Aelwyn Abernant. They're pretty angsty, but I actually really like them. It's not a sincere romance by any means - for starters, Aelwyn in almost all of my works is Aromantic Pansexual (and Adaine is aroace) - and it's definitely Penelope driving it. I may do a third part of this one sometime.

Dreams is much longer than most of these oneshots, just short of 10k words, and is centered around Riz and Kalina, though all of the Bad Kids appear and Fig and Adaine are the most important characters besides those two. This is a class swap AU, with Riz as a Cleric of the 'Sleeping God', and Kalina (and the Sleeping God) as a much more ambiguous figure than the Nightmare King and Kalina of canon. I DEEPLY love the class swaps here, particularly Cleric Riz, Warlock Kristen, and Wild Magic Sorcerer Adaine.

Flames of Passion is the only one of these that's under a thousand words, coming in right around 900. It's also maybe the only one of these truly focused on a romantic ship (Poison and Bane are definitely not ROMANTIC). The pairing is Kalvaxus/Gilear. Make of it what you will.

Dig Out is another one that's likely to get a followup someday. This one seems more angsty than it really is, because I think it ends in kind of a happy way? But it's marked with major character death, because Adaine's a zombie in this one. Give it a read anyway? I genuinely have grown to really love this one.

The Ghost of Me is another one where Adaine dies, but this one's almost triumphant. This is a fic imagining her following through on the threats she makes to Kir and Angwyn if the Elvish government executes her.

Minutes from the July Mordred Manor Wizard's Council Meeting is almost a purely comedic fluff piece, centered around the Mordred Manor Wizard's Council of Adaine O'Shaughnessey, Aelwyn Abernant, Ayda Aguefort, and Zayn Darkshadow.

Waiting is a purely comedic piece about the Bad Kids, plus Aelwyn and Ayda, getting a summer job at a thinly veiled Waffle House expy.

Runaway was a theoretical pilot (the same way Lunacy had) for a series in which Aelwyn stuck Adaine in a palimpsest in their fight and then fled the country with that crystal.

Non-Fantasy High:

Sisters is a post-canon by several years A Crown of Candy fic following Ruby looking into possible disloyalty among the new Candian nobility.

Gallivant's End is a post-canon Starstruck fic following Riva on their journey home, worrying about the changes they have gone through.

Unending Summer is a post-canon (I'm sensing a trend...) Unsleeping City fic focused on Iga's kids, who I had to create tags for to publish this fic even though they are awesome. Y'all should write more Iga's Kids fic, collectively.

Non-Dimension 20 Works

These have both been on hold for a few months, but I do plan to complete both.

To See the End is a Tales of Berseria canon-divergent AU fic, splitting off at the point where Magilou makes her last stand against Melchior; in this, the party is slower and Melchior pushes her to the point of brain hemorrhaging, killing Magilou and leaving her spirit to reincarnate (as a powerful magic user) on the spot as a Malak.

People Who Lies To Themselves is a full Naruto AU where Orochimaru ends up as the fourth Hokage and the village is just generally harsher and crappier, but at least more open about it. It follows a Sakura who gets peer pressured in VERY different ways.

[sketch-guardian]

Before I break down crying... what was Demya's family like? you mentioned them and I just went 🥺🥺🥺

Also here's ur weekly reminder to drink some water and get a full 8 hours of sleep!!! much love <3 - Isa

Nooo please don't cry😥it wasn't my intention to sadden you so much with a simple mention🙈if it's any consolation, Demya was very young when the tragedy happened, so her memories aren't crystal clear, they're slightly blurred because it was all too hectic and scary for her demon child mind (…wait, maybe I made it worse-)

Anyway for the occasion, I decided to make a quick sketch (in fact it sucks-) of Demya's family✨which consists of her two parents, because it would have been difficult to describe precisely their appearance in words😖so I created some references on the spot (I'm sorry I didn't think of names and if their looks are a bit weird-). Also, thank you very much for the love and support Isa!😳💜Such reminder and feeling are mutual of course☺In any case, let's start:

TRIGGER WARNINGS: angst, violence, kidnapping, enslaving, death

WHAT WAS DEMYA'S FAMILY LIKE?

So, let's start by saying that, although I doubt there is a need to repeat it, Demya's parents did not survive and lost their lives trying to save their little girl from being captured by humans on Earth, therefore they didn't receive any type of burial.

As for their origins, they were part of a kind of ancient tribe of demons called Fauxsaeva, they were quite savage and their society was based on fighting and a certain code of honor (for example, just think of the yautja), moreover they were used to hunt human beings on Earth, when it was still allowed for demons to...eat them in short. The family was one of the most important values ​​and one way to start a relationship was to prove that you were the strongest by eliminating the competition, Demya's parents met that way.

Demya's mother had a particularly euphoric and sunny personality, even if a little eccentric, while Demya's father was more serious and slightly grumpy, but still very protective of his family and proud of it. As a child Demya used to hide in her father's hair to rest and he already considered her his little brave warrior, while with her mother affectionate soft nibbles and hunts turned into games were more frequent.

Demya's mother, having not given birth to other children, was also very protective towards her family, so when the kidnapping happened...both parents fought tooth and nail to get their daughter back, dying in the attempt, because the humans they came across were sorcerers (and Demya's demon tribe was known for their fearsome physical strength and ferocity, not magic...the tribe was also known to have some characteristics in common between each other, namely the possession of more than two horns, multicolored hair and the absence of wings).

Those humans didn't kill Demya just because she was still a child and therefore could in a sense be trained, but after various exchanges and negotiations, she was eventually sold to a circus famous for its freak shows, where several years later she was released and found by mistake by Domnra, who took her back to Devildom.

[ofdragonsdeep]

6: Ring

The circles close, like the snake devouring its own tail.

There was something unsettlingly perfect about Elpis.

Ar’telan had been in the floating islands, as much as his tenuous presence could be considered it, for over a day now, and it had not lost the feeling. Every gust of refreshing wind was ordained by the weather controllers, every aspect of the environment meticulously curated. Any creature acting out of turn was corralled and removed, through fair means or foul. It was alive, but not alive.

Not to say that it was a bad place to be. The researchers he had spoken to had found him fascinating, in some cases in a very intense way. He disliked the way they examined his ‘flaws’, but he had learned a great deal from them nonetheless. They were dedicated to their work, even if the idea of creating a perfect creature seemed strange to Ar’telan. They cared about the creations under their care. It wasn’t a bad place to be.

It just didn’t feel like a good one.

He hadn’t articulated this feeling to Emet-Selch and Hythlodaeus. He was not entirely convinced that either of them were lending him the same weight of opinion as a person deserved, never mind a peer. Hythlodaeus treated him like a particularly strange child, and Emet-Selch tolerated him. He adored Meteion despite how little time he had spent with her, but she was not likely to understand the feeling either. She would feel it, though, with every moment she spent around him, and he would have no words to explain it to her. Hermes was lost in his work, in his own feelings, in his education of Meteion.

He held in a sigh, watching as Hythlodaeus had a cheery conversation with the researcher stood by the Neus they were due to take. The lines on Emet-Selch’s face, ones that would normally be hidden by his mask, twitched with every minute spent in idleness, but not enough for him to actually say something. It felt like looking at ghosts.

—

Another rotation of the sun saw Ar’telan with the same worries, but a different space to have them in.

Meeting Venat had not made it better. She had recognised the magic in him, Hydaelyn’s Blessing of Light, and she treated him like a person, but she still felt like a ghost. All of them did. He knew her voice from the lifestream, the crystal imploring him in soul-deep words: Hear. Feel. Think.

And here she was normal. Not for the Ancients, no, not in her white robe of retirement and her excitable thirst for adventure, but she felt so real. Perhaps unsurprising that she would one day watch over the Sundered so stoically, when they lived their lives the same way.

Elidibus - his heart ached to think the name - had told him he could not change anything. That he would not be able to act at all, and if he did, he had no guarantee of being able to return to the world he wished to save if he did enact change. And yet his heart ached for these ghosts, because they were real here.

“You seem troubled.” Venat. “I promise that Emet-Selch looks that annoyed for everyone, if it helps.”

“I know. It’s not that,” Ar’telan replied, sitting himself down on the edge of the island and earning a quiet noise of concern from Venat when he put his legs over the edge. Elpis claimed to be highly dangerous, but in honesty Ar’telan could name more dangerous postal runs. Then again, given the frankly bizarre client list the Head Postmoogle had often given him, maybe that wasn’t saying much.

“We’ve time to talk about it, if you like,” Venat offered, sitting down beside him. He had already talked too much, that was half of the problem. But what could he even say?

“Maybe in a few thousand years,” he offered, which made her laugh. He had never heard Hydaelyn laugh, it had to be said, though he had never looked on her with much fondness that might cause her to. Another guilt to add to his list. 

“You did a brave thing, speaking up,” she said. “Understandable that Emet-Selch would not like it, considering the part he is due to play, but you are not at fault for that.” Ar’telan sighed.

“I know that,” he said. “That’s…” He shook his head. “I did not tell you all of the details. I mean, I hardly have time to cover the lifetimes between your now and mine. But…” He thought of running from Ul’dah after the Banquet, of the image of the life draining from Nanamo’s face. Of the desperation on the Warriors of Darkness, and the dejection in Ardbert when they had met again - a lifetime for him, and but a span of moons for Ar’telan. So much suffering, so much pain, and… “...I blamed - I will blame you. Hydaelyn. For it. All of the tragedies we endure, and all of the mysterious words we received in return, drawn like blood from stone. I thought - I thought of you as a heartless creature, ordering Minfilia to her death.” He swallowed back his feelings, as if it would help. “But it’s my fault. I told you about the First - I was here, in this now, and it is my fault that you know all of this. And it saves so many, yes, but…” He trailed off, unsure what words he could even sign to give life to the depth of his feelings. Here, in this place where every moment felt ordained, in this society where everything was set up so tidily, everyone so predictable. So perfect. How could he even explain the chaos, the feelings it engendered?

“You remind me of Azem,” Venat remarked, making Ar’telan blink in surprise. “It’s a compliment, from me, lest you worry,” she added, a smile creasing the corners of her mouth. “They feel everything so deeply. They fit in so poorly in Amaurot.” Ar’telan could see the happiness at the thought of it lining her bright blue eyes. “I felt guilty about it for a long time. Bringing them into a place like Amaurot, asking them to work within a framework they so clearly chafed against. But despite it all, they made the role their own.” She glanced down at him, a curious look on her face. “It is strange, to see an echo of their soul in your own, and I know as well as any that a life lived before has no bearing on one lived now. But in this, at least, you are alike. And you are not at fault for what will happen - what has happened, for you.” She closed her eyes. “If I fail, despite all you have armed me with, and yet create this primal, it will be my choice to act on what you’ve told me. My choice to push events towards this moment, in the hopes that it gives your people a future we could never have. Tell me: of everything you’ve ever done, even the things that you regret - do you think it worth doing?” Ar’telan sat with the question, fingers wrapping around each other uneasily as he considered the answer.

“I don’t think that it matters what one person thinks,” he replied. “I was happy to give my own life to save the realm. One for many. And I know… I know, in their hearts, every one of those who I watched die felt the same thing. None of them would have been where they were if they hadn’t. It’s selfish of me to deny them the agency of making that choice because I want to feel guilty about the result.” He shook his head, tail twitching unhappily against the stone. “If knowing that made the pain go away, the wounds wouldn’t still be raw.” He smiled ruefully at that. “Not a good answer, I know.” Venat smiled, and it was kind.

“Most answers worth having are complex ones,” she replied. “Anyone who seeks simplicity in the infinite is a fool.” She grimaced. “Now I sound like Lahabrea.” Ar’telan held back the flinch. 

“I just… I want you to know that I- in context, I am sorry for hating you. Hating Hydaelyn,” he said. “And I know now, having met you, that it will hurt you as much as it hurts the rest of us. But it was so hard to know at the time.”

“I will let my heart break a thousand times if I can see you and yours live,” Venat replied. “...Easy to say now, I know, but I will try and hold it close, if that much of me remains in Hydaelyn’s presence.”

“It will,” Ar’telan said, almost without thinking. “...I feel it is selfish of me to ask, but will you- will you promise me something?” His fingers trembled over the words, and he watched as Venat nodded in silence. “What is left of Elidibus - will you bring it home?” He saw the acceptance turn to surprise. “I have- I hoped- we fought on the First, like I said. I don’t know… how much of him was trapped in the tower. How much of him was lost before that happened. And I know that the Elidibus you know was all but consumed for Zodiark, but if there is anything drifting… please, bring him home.”

“A duty that would normally be reserved for Emet-Selch, but I suspect he will be a little busy,” Venat remarked, a little of the humour back in her eyes. “I shall do what I can, if I can. Elidibus is… dear to many of us. I am both gladdened and deeply sorry to know he is dear to you, as well.” Ar’telan closed his eyes, feeling the weight of the soul vessel at his side. He did not know if he had succeeded. If it was possible to succeed. If what was left to pull from the Tower with all he had left was even enough to be called Elidibus. But he clung to hope nonetheless. Eventually it would pay off.

“Thank you,” he said. “I know… that you have been told a great many horrible things today, and I am sorry. If we had the time, I would share some kinder stories.” Venat smiled at that, a reassuring hand finding his shoulder.

“I will have time enough to watch them, it seems,” she said. “Perhaps it will do us both some good.”

Ar’telan hoped she was right.