#or be buried in the crushing depths of the sea
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#big 'need to lay down HARDER' night#or be buried in the crushing depths of the sea#weighted blanket is not weighted ENOUGH I need Mariana Trench pressure#and/or to be flash frozen like a fish fillet#stupid mortal coil#painblogging
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[ID: drawings of a golem animated by a palestinian flag painted on its forehead. it is seen: holding out its arms protectively in front of a crowd of children, the children also hold each other supportively; catching an air strike missile from the air and throwing it away or crushing it in its fist; turning its back so that a child can warm her hands by the earth oven built into its back, food in a pot is cooking on the fire and a boy holds a cup of steaming tea to his face and enjoys the aroma; clearing away rubble so a man can help up his wife who was buried underneath, she is clutching a baby to her chest; stooping down to look at a kitten a young boy is holding up to show it; and dissolving small flakes of clay from its finger into a glass of water, purifying it. end ID]
@fairuzfan asked people to create and share art for the strike. i wrote an artist statement and then set about trying to draw what i envisioned. artist statement below.
This golem is a protector that I wish I could gift to the children and adults in Gaza. The flag on its forehead is to show that love for the Palestinian people is an animating force for people fighting for a free Palestine all over the world, especially for those in Palestine who are trying to free themselves and their people. Love is the motivation for the call for a free Palestine, not hatred like people try to claim. It is very strong and fast and can catch air strikes out of midair and crush them to dust or throw them back in the direction they came from. It can lift all the rubble of a collapsed building very quickly so nobody can get trapped underneath. It has an earth oven in its back with an ever-burning flame that people can use to warm themselves and cook food and heat water to use to bathe themselves or make tea. Pieces of its clay can be crumbled up and mixed into water to make even the most brackish and unclean water pure and safe to drink.
The golem is always a bit of a tragic figure so I don't imagine it staying around forever once Palestine is free and it is no longer needed. I think it would use its great strength to help rebuild the destroyed houses, churches, schools, universities, hospitals, and mosques and then dive into the Jordan river and dissolve. It would clean the river of all pollution and make the water splash up over all the newly replanted fruit trees, causing them to grow big and strong. Its love for Palestine and its people can be tasted in the fruit they grow for generations.
I choose a specifically Jewish icon of protection because of how it feels to witness such horrors done in the supposed name of Judaism and the Jewish people. For many anti-zionist Jews, we feel like we are acting directly within the teachings of our stories and communities by opposing this genocide. It is difficult to understand how the very people and institutions who taught us these values now fight against them so fiercely. While obviously I would still oppose Israel were I not Jewish, the way I oppose Israel is directly informed by my Jewishness. I hope that someday, somehow, Judaism can bring as much joy and support to the Palestinian people as it has brought grief and destruction. That Jewish symbols used in the name of love and justice will bear more significance than the ones used in shows of hatred. Knowing the depth of the harm caused, I do not know if this is possible. But this artwork and everything I have dedicated myself to these past few months and continue to dedicate myself to in the future is born from this hope. I love you. Thank you for being on this planet with me. From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free! And it will be beautiful.
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✮ — warrior’s executioner.
you’re an earthquake that rocks his steady rhythm.
tags — zoro x afab!reader. 1.3k wc. soft -> rough, like really, dappled with a lot of prose (i hope they make sense tbh). huge cock!zoro. creampie. a LOT of cum, sue me. cervix fucking. very explicit smut. minors, blank, and ageless blogs dni.
from hunter — i… don’t know. i felt so, so, soft for zoro in this fine afternoon. this fic made me vulnerable lmao. this is hardly proofread btw. ✮
imbued with an ache for glory since the sprout of his childhood, the way of the warrior lives in zoro’s skin and bones like a malignant disease of no existing palliative. he inhales the roughened edges of a samurai’s principle like air his lungs need to survive. these beliefs are claws of death that have grazed him one too many times, yet he wears the thousand cuts with pride.
they whisper about him across the four seas: the devil wearing a human’s flesh, they say, siphoning his unyielding strength from the depths of hell. enemies see his swords like the embodiment of death, the extended hands of sharp torment, while allies revere his strength.
his hands are tainted with blood from hard won victories. and zoro has never even thought of cleaning the proof of endless wars snaking along the lines of his palms until he’s met you.
“are you sure you want this?” zoro asks for what seems like the third time, and for each you answer him with a feathery chuckle. “i don’t want to hurt you.”
“you won’t hurt me, zoro.” there’s a spark of assurance in your eyes, fueled by conviction that it would take more than his tenacity to inflict pain upon you.
zoro admires you for it; he desires you for that inelastic poise. and so he moistens his lips, guiding the raw end of his cock through your supple pussy lips. he’s been leaking like crazy, transparent lines of precum smeared all over your bare stomach where his rigid cock had been resting.
he palms his girth as if to soothe the stiffness; he’s unimaginably hard, pulsing with fierce vivacity. tremors rack zoro’s body, not on the account of anxiety, such is a distant feeling, but because of how much he wants to shove his thick cock right into your pussy, fuck you until your insides crumble.
“spread your legs wider for me,” he whispers, breath catching up in his throat when he feels the wet caress of your slabbering cunt around his flushed cocktip.
you share a shuddering breath when he sheathes himself to the hilt, closing his good eye in concentration, in savoring the gummy embrace of your pussy around his twitching shaft. all the might and the brawn he’s built for years now melts into a thick puddle underneath his wavering feet.
you’re an earthquake that rocks his steady rhythm.
hovering above you, cautious as to not crush your ribcage with the weight of his immeasurable desire and wanton lust, zoro moves with calculated tempo. he pitches his head right below your chin, staggering breath fanning the crater between your collarbones. seconds— a dribble of a moment within which he loses his composure— that’s all it has taken for his gruff hand to cage the tender flesh of your waist and pull you with snapping vitality, therefore burying his hungry cock further in your insides.
with an obscene yelp, you toss your head back. your weakened frame finds its leverage on zoro’s broad shoulders, leaving wild stripes of crimson on his golden skin with your nails. you can feel the ridges of his girth, the angry veins scraping your cunt repeatedly, making the little wet hole swell.
“i’m sorry,” zoro confesses softly against your heated cheeks. “did i hurt you?”
you wish you can pour your heart out and say no, he’s not hurting you and he never will. tears grace the corner of your eyes, from the fluttering emotions hugging your belly, and you can only shake your head. at last, your hands find the curve of his flushed cheeks. he looks feverish, pushed into perpetual agony and terror of breaking you. like you’ve never done before, you tug him by the face and seal his lips with a kiss that quickly forms a whorl of saliva inside your mouths. you never let him go.
zoro’s heart will burst, he swears it will. the unspoken consent triggers his primal need, the animalistic urge of wanting to prove how you drive him to the edge of insanity.
he pounds your pussy like a mad man freed from restraints. he folds your knees to fuck you properly while watching your cunt swallow his needy cock to the base. there are strings of transparent liquid connecting your pussy to his shaft, augmenting the smacking sound whenever he brings his weight down your soiled cervix. hungrily, repeatedly, mercilessly.
“z… zoro!” your unabating and quivered chant injected with pleasure. “more… i need you— want you.”
need.
his eye dilates as the word flows inside his system. he slides his upper body down to meet yours, a breathless yet fervent chuckle rising from his throat. zoro has been maiming your cervix with his insatiable cock for what seems like forever now. he’s been fucking you so maniacally that his bladder shudders and your pussy has turned a damped mess under his vigorous thrusts. all this is accompanied with brutal strength.
instead of cowering away, you tell him to sink in you deeper.
you, who emit the air of lavender blossoms and speak with honey in your mouth. you, whose featherlight touch whispers life into every withered thing. you, who keep a universe of all things soft and kind and gentle locked inside your velvet chest.
“you’re perfect,” zoro murmurs against your mouth, pinning his cock one more time to your slabbering cunt. “and you’re mine.”
your belly heats up from the fervid claim. rapture, its pleasurable hand reaching for you, as zoro’s movements become deliberately slow. his spine moves like waves, the roll of his hips jittery yet deep. you feel it all at once when he pops your hardened nipple in his mouth. zoro suckles, salivating around the areola while maintaining his slow pace.
the heat picks up its intensity, along with the furiously lewd moan gaining strength and fleeing your lips. caged in a bubble of sensitivity that will burst at the seams with an airy touch, you clamp a hand over your mouth but zoro takes your wrist to pin beside your head. his final savage thrust sends rolling waves of euphoria squeezing your chest until the only way you can breathe again is to shout his name with a piece of your soul attached in it.
zoro tattoos your expression in a huge part of his memory; the narrow of your brows, how your pretty lips shape his name, and the tears of release like silver satin adorning your eyes. with that image he buries his cock between your velvety walls, down and down until his cocktip meets your cervix again, and there— bouts of thick cum burst in your uterus.
he screams your name, placing his life and his love between its syllables. you touch his face, soothing his shivers, but he just won’t stop filling your womb with fresh and viscid cum like he’s not busted a fat nut in a hundred years. zoro’s eye teared up at the sensation.
“i… i can’t stop. fuck— it’s seeping. fuck, fuck—”
you lock your legs around his hips. “let it all out.”
zoro admits defeat and collapses on top of you. his cock continues to plug your pussy with blobs of cum. he withers beside you, then, and finally pulls out achingly. even without the grip of your cunt his swollen tip lazily oozes all over the sheets.
“how are you feeling?” he tucks you in, securing your body with the warmth of his.
“definitely sore,” you breathe, tracing the mark of stitches on his chest with a delicate finger. “but happy. how about you?”
he ponders at the question. how does he feel, truly? once, he wondered if his tenacity is just another word for wickedness and if shedding blood is the only purpose his unmatched strength serves. he pondered about the hunger he’s shackled in his core and whether it could only be satiated as he felled each enemy with a sword.
zoro fears that he’ll never learn how to hold you close to his heart without tarnishing the perpetual twinkle of light in your luminescent eyes. but then he kisses you, and you do not flinch from its violence.
zoro has found the answer, then.
how could he ever hurt you when you make him tender?
how could he ever hurt you when you turn him to pieces?
#mine ✮#zoro smut#zoro x reader#zoro x you#zoro x y/n#roronoa zoro smut#roronoa zoro x reader#roronoa zoro x you#op smut#one piece smut#op x reader#one piece x reader
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Drowning at sea in the crushing depths is the only time the Vast and the Buried can stand to be in the same room as each other
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Hiraeth Creature #1220 - Thadra-Ilnua
"In a land far, far from ours, across the serpent-laden seas, the Harbour Lands rise from waves, straddled between existence and nowhere. This land once held folk, not sown from the souls of Fae, but from dust and water, in great pools beneath the boughs of ancient trees. They crawled out as raw, skittering creatures, more than susceptible to tooth and claw. Through time and luck, they eventually carved stone, bore flame, and stood upright to gaze at the distant, loving Moon. Once humble, the Harbour Folk grew cunning, shaping the land to their whims. Thoughts and ideas were ever racing, they brought the elements to heel, and became masters of the alchemical arts. They concocted medicines for every ill, conduits for the arcane, and even fashioned together living beings. A utopia true, the one thing they lacked was the closeness of the Moon, whose light felt ever distant. The more they peered upward, the colder the Harbour Folk felt.
The King of the Harbour Folk promised his people a Moon. In a grand experiment, the Harbour King chiselled away pieces of the Harbour Lands and gave them hearts of magic. Able to soar among the clouds, the people could live in the Moon’s airy domain so they could finally find a closeness they longed for. For a time they found comfort, but eventually they found something unexpected. A land across the sea: Hiraeth, ever present with beasts and folk innumerable. Nights framed in silver light saw the Moon Goddess herself descend upon the land, where all manner of souls bathed in her loving light. When this auspicious sign was attested among the Harbour Folk, the Harbour King grew mad with jealousy. They had wallowed in brine and mud, wrestled survival from the maws of beach-combers to eke out a kingdom, while across the sea sat fertile lands coddled by spirits, tending to an undeserving menagerie of stone-worshipping savages. For generations, the Harbour King had the Harbour Folk circling above, keeping track of any signs of weakness so he could begin butcher’s work.
Rumblings between realms began and Fae Realm warlords also felt entitled to their share of Hiraeth’s bounty. This sparked a great conflict as Fae fought against and for Hiraeth’s survival. The Harbour King sent in blades in the dark, pincers to cut and crush battle weary folk and Fae alike. Their cause was cutthroat, without an ounce of glory or sentiment worth song– actions seen by the Moon Goddess, who wept for their souls. She would not be the only witness for long, as the hunters were eventually caught by Hiraeth’s God Queen during her vengeful crusade against all interlopers. Her rancour seething to a pitch, she cast the Harbour Folk back to the sea and, while clenching the fallen tears of the Moon Goddess, she cursed the Harbour Folk to never find peace under the light of the Moon again.
The sky grew eternally cold above the Harbour Lands. The Harbour King’s punishment branched out from his stricken body and the people grew heavy souls leaden with sorrow. So heaving their weight, they could not go upwards towards the Celestial Sea, but downwards into the depths of the ocean. Even those in the flying islands could not find peace, and slipped into the sky. Hearing tales that the mountains were the “Stairways to the Moon”, they built cities within their highest peaks, but their souls were buried into the rock beneath them. Their lot was to languish in the elements they once tamed. Their souls seeped into the Harbour Lands, the flora turned wild with the will of the tethered dead.
While Hiraeth met her own ruin during the Giant’s March, it built a memory of heroism and grace among those left to live onward. The Harbour Lands had no such valour or pride to latch onto, the Harbour King’s legacy tainting their history. Regardless, the Harbour Folk carried on, their inevitable fates giving them the perseverance to value life in every waking moment. Their long-lasting want to survive despite the sins of their forebears had led them to study all manner of secret alchemy and ritual. They returned to the great pools beneath the boughs of ancient trees where they first rose, and within them forged their own Moon of bewitching light. Rejected from solace, the Harbour Folk ferried their bodies and souls to a self-constructed sanctuary. The Second Moon hangs close to trees, a vessel for those who hope one day to be either forgotten, or forgiven."
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The Mabill Lore in my Crushed Little Stars AU 💫
(art is by the silly @millenianthemums)
So Bill has the same backstory as in canon. He could see the third dimension, he tried to show the Euclydians “the stars” and ending up destroying everything. But instead of wandering space and time for eternity, Bill summons the Axolotl and asks them if they could resurrect Euclydia. The Axolotl told him that what’s done is done, but that he is capable of redemption. With nowhere else to go, Bill is brought to the Theraprism. Instead of tweaking, Bill actually tries to redeem himself by being civil with the other patients and following the rules. 1 trillion years later, Bill has become a charming and suave dream demon. Although he’s satisfied with his new identity, Bill is still haunted by the Euclydia massacre but chooses to bury it deep down. He decides to travel to different dimensions to explore and have fun, and that’s when he comes across Dimension 46.
The year is 2004, and a 12-year old Mabel Pines is playing at the beach with her twin brother, Dipper. They were having a family vacation alongside Uncle Filbrick and Auntie Caryn, who brought their 3-month old babies along for the trip. Mabel was ecstatic over the little ones. Their flabby cheeks, their puppy dog eyes, their squishy heads…it’d make anyone squeal with delight! On this particular day, Mabel and Dipper had decided to build the tallest sandcastle ever! Dipper told his sister the castle needed structure so she looked around and saw a pile of beautiful sticks lying on the wet sand. She ran over there and knelt down, her face almost inches away from the sand. Unfortunately, a large wave had come in and hit her right in the face. Dipper watched as his sister was swept off to sea. He screamed and cried and tried to save her, but she was already gone. The beach was closed off as security sent boats out into the ocean to find the missing girl. Mabel was whisked far away from the shore. She flailed her arms as she tried to keep her head above water, but she found herself caught in a staring contest with a fish. She desperately tried to breathe, but that only caused water to fill her lungs. God, it burned so bad. Eventually, Mabel closed her eyes and allowed the dark depths to take her into its cold embrace.
She felt a tiny but powerful hand grabbing onto her fingers and pulling her back up to the surface. At least, that’s what she told the paramedics as she was rolled away in a stretcher. Dipper was hysterical, squeezing her hands and apologizing over and over again. As Mabel was brought to the hospital, she drifted into a deep and peaceful slumber. When she opened her arms, she found herself in a vibrant pink place with floating toys and flowers. She saw a strange yellow triangle resting in a chair wearing a silly turquoise hat with yellow stars on it. She walked over to the creature and gently woke it up. His name was Bill Cipher, certified dream demon. He explained that this pink realm was her mindscape, which is where her consciousness goes when she sleeps. Mabel held his tiny black hands and realized he was the person who saved her from drowning. She thanked him and they spent their time playing with the toys and chatting about life.
When she awoke from her slumber, she told her family all about Bill and how nice he was. For 2 whole months, Dipper and her parents thought Bill was an imaginary friend who she came up with as a coping mechanism to her near-death situation. During this time, Bill and Mabel grew closer, and Bill started dropping the “sugar sweet” persona and got more comfortable as he spent more time with her. He’d make dark jokes that she’d laugh at, they’d come up with the best games, and Mabel wasn’t afraid of Bill’s morbid ideas. He even had a cute nickname for her: “Shooting Star”. She was like his own daughter. On Halloween, Bill came up with a fun little prank that he would pull on Mabel. That night, the little girl had finished putting on her costume. She was wondering where her 3-sided friend was when suddenly, she felt as if she were weightless. She looked down to find herself floating like a ghost. She looked at the mirror and to her surprise, she saw herself staring at the glass. But something was different. Her eyes were yellow with slit cat-like pupils, and she was pretty sure her skin was a full shade paler. Bill explained that he was possessing her, and that he thought this would be the funniest prank to pull on his fleshy friend. But for the first time since they’ve met, Mabel was upset. She didn’t want to be possessed. This year would be her last Halloween before she turned into a teenager and it was robbed from her. By her own friend! Plus, the feeling of being a ghost made her want to throw up. She was so light, her legs swung back and forth, as if she were drowning all the way back in that cold dark sea.
But Bill wanted to experience trick-or-treating for himself and he sincerely apologized to her. Mabel started to get hysterical, flying around in circles and begging Bill to give her body back. But Bill went outside that room, pretended to be Mabel, and went trick-or-treating. Mabel couldn’t believe it. Her new friend had betrayed her. As Bill walked from door to door with Dipper, he tried to focus on the boy’s voice cracks and not the eerie screaming coming from next to him. It reminded him too much of Euclydia. But 30 minutes in, Dipper started noticing that Mabel wasn’t acting herself. When “Mabel” drank her bottle water because she was thirsty, he saw something in the reflection that made his heart stop. Creepy cat eyes that made his lovely sister look like a monster wanting to eat him. Dipper ran far away from her and to the local church. When the pastor brought some candy, “Mabel” came running up behind Dipper and tackled him to the ground. The kids fought in front of the other trick-or-treaters and the pastor was able to perform an exorcism that expelled Bill from Mabel’s body and her mind as well. Mabel was brought inside the church and the nuns looked after her for 2 hours as she sobbed into Dipper’s arms and told him everything.
Mabel never saw Bill again and from that day on, she started handing out candy instead of trick-or-treating.
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Does it get better? Or do the crushing weight and fear and panic and the longing and the longing and the longing win? I would rather have the sky than the dirt. But the dirt is hungrier, I think.
Mm.. well? It depends on what you mean by better. Understand that the world, for better or worse, is, and always has been, fear. I understand the Buried's desperation. It's one of the weaker entities at the moment. And hell, pressure is everywhere. Debt, payments, changes pushing you to move forward or get crushed between the wall, it's inevitable. But, I understand the desire for the sky.
With that being said, you should understand that you may look up to the sky and see birds and butterflies and wonderful la-dee-dah things, but all of those things are just preventing themselves from falling.
The way I See it, you would benefit from the crushing depths far more than the infinite fall. You have a desire to push against the weight, which The Buried very much enjoys. Consider becoming an avatar! For you I would recommend a position in deep sea ocean exploration, just so you can still be close to The Vast. I hear Oceangate is still hiring..
J. Sims, Avatar Career Advisor(?)
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Gnaw (6)
The bottom of the ocean is a cold, dark place. There is no light here, other than the faint glow of many bioluminescent markings on Osial's body. The sun's heat has never reached this deep, and the cold is so intense that you've shivered yourself to death repeatedly.
But with each death, you adapted. The icy temperature of these depths no longer mattered.
The crushing pressure of the deep ocean that once threatened to splinter your bones and crush you into a meatball now had no effect.
Gills just below your ribs filter oxygen into your body now that your lungs are useless.
"Great Storm, what are you thinking on so intensely?" Osial asks. "You have been silent and still for nearly three days."
You tell your newfound friend that you might have an idea of how to leave, but it will require his help.
"Of course. How may I serve my Creator?"
You ask for a bit of his flesh and explain that you gain energy from eating or from exposure to the elements.
You've already spent three days impaled through with stone spears at the bottom of the sea - you've probably absorbed plenty of energy and just need a catalyst.
His heads argue over who will be donating the required offering, but eventually settle on letting the central head bite off the very tip of its tongue.
A bit of glowing blue tongue drifts lazily on the currents and towards you. It's a chunk of flesh the size of a glass bottle, oozing a dark blue fluid.
You reach out with your unpinned arm and grip it, briefly cringing when it squirms in your grasp.
Once it's close to your mouth, you open up and bite into it quickly. This also means that you get some seawater into your mouth along with the bit of meat.
Gross.
The god-flesh isn't particularly appetizing, either. As you do your best to chew it, it writhes and twitches in your mouth. The taste is ponderously bland, though faintly fishy, and you're more than a little unsatisfied.
It takes you more time than you'd like to consume it, but once the last of it goes down, a feeling begins to flow through you.
A new sensation. Like there's a part of you that's just lost the pins-and-needles from being slept on and is back to normal.
Not just that, either. You feel revitalized, like the pains of your body are far away. You plant your palms against the seafloor, dig your fingers into the sands, and begin to rise. Osial looks delighted.
The spears of stone dig into your flesh, but you will not give up now. How can you? You feel unstoppable.
Electro energy arcs across your body and up the monstrous pillars, scorching them with such heat that they briefly glow.
You may be buried beneath the weight of a mountain... but faith can move mountains.
Through labored breathing, you ask what Osial desires most in the world.
"To sink Liyue to the bottom of the ocean, and see Morax take my place in the darkness below the waves eternally."
More personal than that.
"To hold Beisht, my beloved, in my embrace again."
...more achievable from his current position?
"Oh. Freedom, of course. To not bear these ridiculous spears in my back any longer."
And then, that new part of yourself flares to life. You smile through the pain of saltwater against open wounds and tell him you can manage that.
(Anemo smiles, eye glowing in the heart of the storm. A new bearer already? You're so kind.)
Mondstadt's suffering comes to an end, the haze of nightmarish heat finally lifting... but the winds are not the same.
The scent of sickness and rot no longer carries on the breeze because the breezes are so much milder.
Anemo visions dim, and then flare much brighter.
Less than an eighth of Mondstadt's population had succumbed to the heat, but many had become sick from an outbreak of food poisoning and the rapid onset of heat exhaustion. Others had become ill in the process of burying loved ones.
Their cries for aid went unanswered, and Venti's faith had been deeply shaken.
If their prayers were not reaching you... then who had they been worshipping all this time?
(He receives no answer, only the sounds of mourning on the wind as Mondstadt begins to burn the diseased dead.)
You stand at the bottom of the sea, hand against a stone spear weighing down Osial.
The electro in your body was refined and stretched into an axe, which you now used to hack away at the first pillar.
Every minute or so, you have him move slightly to see if the weight is becoming more manageable.
After four hours, each of them has been weakened enough for him to push off if he wasn't exhausted. Which he is.
You reach for your new power and then to Osial. Across the world, Anemo visions glow faintly. In Zapolyarny Palace, the Gnosis of the Anemo Archon unwinds into a soft breeze and vanishes.
Words come to your lips unbidden, a recital from a time you've forgotten.
"Noble beast. I, your maker, wish to form a pact with you."
Osial looks at you curiously, and then again in surprise when the Anemo Gnosis appears in your hand.
"You have shown me kindness in this dark place and given me the power to unbind us both.
You have been imprisoned beneath the waves for centuries by the one you hate the most, away from your lover, your goals just within reach but lost to you.
I have been hunted across the land I have traveled by traitorous mongrels and then abandoned here to rot alongside you.
With one look, you knew it was me. With but a single glance, you understood who now was at your side.
Your fealty to me is so very valuable, especially now."
You hold out the Anemo Gnosis in his direction.
"Become my Anemo Archon. The true God of Storms, and the symbol of destruction for all those who would rise against me."
He laughs with all five heads.
"I accept, my maker. The skies will be mine, and all who breathe beneath them will know you with reverence or know nothing ever again."
"This pact is sealed."
The sea burns bright with teal and blue light and then erupts into a monstrous storm, a hurricane screaming to life as a massive beam of energy pierces the heavens and vaporizes Guyun Stone Forest.
A new lord of the skies erupts from the sea with a joyous scream, stone pillars falling from his back, feathers and scales colored brilliantly.
"MORAX! I will have your head as a trophy for the All-Maker and your flesh as my meal! Face me and die, or watch me tear this miserable collection of insects apart like the coward you are!"
On his back is you, and in your eyes is a hunger for vengeance.
Your power fills the hurricane. Vast blades of lightning ready to fall at your command. Screaming winds coalesce around Osial. Arcs of plasma line his new fangs.
Liyue will pay for its actions, and the two of you will be collecting with interest.
((Taglist:
@the-dumber-scaramouche @thatdeadaquarius @ssak-i @imyme20 @fried-lotud @acacla @itz-luna @iruiji @crierofirony @itsredactedlove @sweetsthetik @leafanonsforest @oxyotl @kkazuyass @featuredtofu @resident-cryptid @d4y-dr3am3r @crimson-ashes @red1sg0n3 @the-real-fandom-person @code-roevember @yourlocalsourwolf @rhoswen-drake @minimari415 @reversearrowhead @call-me-shroom @evqnescents @valeriele3 @mochicurls21 @sinnful-darling @fleshdotmp4
#genshin sagau#reader has a terrible time#sagau gnaw#genshin angst#hopefully one of you likes this#osial is a good child#quetzalcoatl osial#quetzalcosial???#whatever hes cool
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Professor Layton and the Eternal Diva
PART 01
〚FIRST〛〚PREV〛〚NEXT〛
Disclaimer: This is a fan-translation for the Japan-exclusive novellisation of the movie Professor Layton and the Eternal Diva. The original novel was written by Aya Matsui under the supervision of Akihiro Hino, and belongs to Level-5.
This translation only aims to be a pleasant read for non-Japanese fans, nothing more: I made a few deliberate changes while translating in order to get the writing style closer to what is usually found in English fanfictions, as the Japanese storytelling can sometimes be different than what we are used to.
♪
As we rise out of the sea The stars’ glimmers sing praises This soul remains close to your heart
As the sunlight filtering through the foliage sparkles The forest’s raindrops sing praises These eyes shall sleep and watch over your dreams
Count the lives that sank at the bottom of the sea We believe that someday This prayer will reach you
Now let the eternal slumber alone prevail The tears of the beloved Dissolve into the sea
Beyond a thousand nights If the day ever comes When you smile once more We will never cry again
Beyond a thousand nights Watch in our dream The day we meet again As we sing this song
Believe in the promise Beyond the far-off time We will see your smile again
As you stand in the future when the skies intersect You must let our thoughts guide you back to that day
We will never run out of the tears That are destined to none but you We lie asleep dreaming of you
We shall now sleep Always thinking of you Our beloved...
♪
── London・Present
☆ Janice Quatlane
The sound of thunderous applause brought me back to reality.
This was just a rehearsal for tomorrow’s performance…
I could now remember that I was on the stage of the newly built opera house in London. And yet, I still found myself thinking: “The sea that was just now spread out before me, where did it go?”
The azure blue sea softly embraces the island of Ambrosia, the gentle waves lapping at the shore…
“Miss Quatlane, what a wonderful voice!”
“This fabled opera, The Eternal Kingdom… Nothing could be more fitting for the inauguration of this opera house!”
“Oh yes, I can already see the audience going wild!”
“They had better be! Tomorrow will mark the second time it was ever performed!”
The impresarios seemed to be praising me, but their voices were all drowned out by the sound of the waves that were still echoing in the depths of my heart.
Swoosh… Whoosh… Always thinking of our beloved Eternally dancing to and fro between sea and land
Looking at the sea was like looking at myself, wandering back and forth between dream and reality…
“The memories of the melody…”
All I could do was mumble these words. Standing here, after the end of the song, made me realise… There was something that I had carefully buried inside of me, out of my sight, never to look back. But now, the melody of The Eternal Diva was the key that had just unlocked it: the memories from three years ago.
Memories that were made not of images, but of feelings and emotions…
Joy, sadness, sorrow, pain… I want to see you, I yearn to see you, I languish without you, I want to see you…
These thoughts and feelings all came back to me in a single instant, and they pierced through my entire being. I was almost crushed by this tsunami of emotions, leading me to reconsider my previous decision. Was it really a good idea for me to sing The Eternal Kingdom tomorrow, in front of a live audience?
I could not believe that these memories were still occupying so much space in my mind, even after all this time…
It was a selfish request of me, but the composer, Mr. Oswald Whistler, had graciously accepted to let me sing it again. The reply in his letter was filled with such warm words:
Miss Quatlane… No, I will call you Janice, just like old times. How long have I waited for the time when you would ask! I know what you said three years ago; that you wanted to seal The Eternal Kingdom forever… Still, even from that very moment, I had been hoping to see your role as its diva rise again one day. I understand how much pain and grief it caused you at that time. But Janice, you must never forget that I wrote this opera for you, and you alone. To me, music is the most sacred thing in this world. No matter how foolish and fragile the human heart may be, only music will never burn its wings and fall alongside it. I am with you, Janice. You are an angel chosen by the muses. Please, by all means, I want you to embrace the whole of London with your great love as the diva. It truly is a pity. I would already be rushing over to the opera house and supporting you if I could, but we both know that reality will not make this possible. With all my love, Oswald Whistler
When his letter said that this opera had been written only for me, of course I believed him. I already knew this was true.
Thinking of his words again made me understand: this was a piece that I needed to carry on singing, again and again, for as long as I would be able to. This was my fate.
However, one important thing that few could know, was that this opera never was mine. This, too, was fate.
I only sing for you.
Can you hear it, Melina?
My best friend…
I’m coming back tomorrow, to see you.
All I can do now is keep hoping, thinking back to that time three years ago, when we spent time with Professor Layton…
↚ ⇛
#professor layton#layton's book club#janice quatlane#oswald whistler#eternal diva#eternal diva novel#translation#professor layton and the eternal diva
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Hello. I'm sorry if this is sudden but I was wondering if you could make a platonic Neuvillette story with a little angst with the reader being the youngest of his 3 children and she was extremely stressed especially after Lyney and Lynette's trial along with Neuvillette and the readers mother getting divorced so her older brother and sister who were twins from Neuvillette's previous marriage decided to take their little sister out to get her mind off of everything but when Neuvillette realized his children left he went to the traveller, Paimon and the readers best friend and longtime crush Lyney for help and Neuvillette was not happy his children just left without saying anything especially since his eldest children could be massive troublemakers. (If you're not okay with writing this that's completely alright and I wish you a good morning/afternoon or good night ☺️)
i love this idea!!
Father!Neuvillette
reader x Lyney ,SFW, little angst with fluff, short fic
reader is neuv's daughter,
You were so overwhelmed with the recent events going on in your life at the moment, you could barely hold it together. Your parents recent divorce and now your best friends being accused of crimes they never did.... it was too much.
Seeing you in such a state, your two older siblings came up with an offer to take you out and relax. It all sounded wonderful, because it meant you three had an occasion to hang out and you could take a break from the stress you were buried into. The only problem was that none of you announced your leaving, making poor Neuvillette worry sick for you.
Monsieur Neuvillette, usually put together, was now frantically gesturing and explaining to the Traveller the situation. He was in desperate help and he'd never bother the traveler if it wasn't so important. They figured Neuvillette was in desperate need of help as the sky became cloudy and rain started to pour. "We won't be able to find the three of them in time on our own. We might need some help and I know just the person!" Paimon suggested before leading Neuvillette straight to the newly accused criminal. Both Lyney and Neuvillette tensed up at the sight of each other, both confused on how and why were they here.
After traveller explained the situation, Lyney was ready to help his best friend and her father with anything he could. Now the four of them were desperately searching Fontaine's forests, in case Neuvillette children wandered too far. But it was all in vain. The sky was darkening, the clouds gathered and the children were nowhere to be found. All hope seemed lost for Monsieur as he sat down and silently cried the loss of his children.
He was not upset that they never announced they left, but more upset with himself that he couldn't protect them. It was his job as their father and now.... Now a sudden cry for help made everyone turn their head and look for the source. But Neuvillette knew it was his youngest child, his precious daughter's cry for help. He was the first one to get up and the first to arrive at the scene. His only daughter was now face to face with an aggressive crab as her siblings were trying their best to keep the other crabs away, but it wasn't easy with no sword.
Understanding the situation in front of him, Neuvillette knew there was only one way to put an end to this. "It is I, your Mighty Hydro Dragon commanding you to retreat in the depths of the sea and leave these children be." at his words the creatures retreaded instantly with their head bowed down. "Now you three come here." he commanded his children as they approached him in the same manner as the crabs left, head bowed and small steps. "We're sorry! We didn't mean to-" but the children's apology was cut short as Neuvillette bear hugged them all. "Never leave unannounced again!" The children hugged their father and sat like this as the traveler, Lyney and Paimon caught up to Neuvillette, who previously ran away before anyone else.
"Aww what a happy family reunion!" Paimon said just before the group hug ended.
"Let's go home now. I think it's already time for dinner. Shall we?" Monsieur asked before looking at Lyney "it's an open invitation for everyone" Lyney looked at both Neuvillette and you, unsure of what to think. You nodded and smiled at him, making the magician smile in return before nodding to your father.
"Free food!" Paimon yelled excitedly as the whole crew laughed. --------------------------------------------------------------tysm for the ask anon, it was a pleasure writing it and i hope it meets your expectations🫶🏼
#neuvillette genshin#genshin impact neuvillette#neuvilette x reader#neuvillette#genshin impact#genshin imagines#genshin x reader#genshin x you#genshin#genshin fanfic#genshin headcanons
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🇵🇸 PALESTINE 🇵🇸
I sit here frozen.
Heart is in my throat.
The tears begin to swell.
And my soul is weighed down by a thousand bricks.
But whose pain is it that I feel?
It's the pain of mothers broken heart crying out for their children
It's the pain of siblings torn apart from each other
It's the pain of a helpless father in the grip of hatred and violence
It's the pain of the children lay under rubble heavier than the weight of their oppression
Their small, fragile bones seeping out of the destruction, crushed by hate & buried by indifference.
I feel their anguish in the depths of my soul
A burden too heavy to bear, a wound too deep to heal
I feel the pain of Palestine.
Are you not feeling what I’m feeling?
Do the hairs on the back of your neck not rise to the violent cries of a mother finding her young among the martyrs?
The loss of a father seeing his son die in front of his eyes.
Their pain is etched forever in my heart.
Do you still not feel the pain, oh world?
The cries of mothers mourning
The tears of children orphaned
The homes destroyed, lives shattered
The injustice, the suffering, the loss
The anguish of a people forgotten
Their voices silenced, their rights denied.
Oh world let's not turn a blind eye to the people
The brave people of Palestine
The people longing for peace and liberation
For justice, for freedom to live without fear,
To breathe without the heavy burden of oppression.
Let's raise our voice to their rhythm
stand with them and resound the world
In unity, we echo the plea
"From the river to the sea Palestine will be free 🇵🇸"
#i wrote this poem#free palestine#free gaza#ceasefire#poem for palestine#from the river to the sea palestine will be free#palestine freedom#poem by sunlovemoon#i am sorry for too many tags
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Today on "Anise sings acoustic, bc she likes writing lyrics but can't play an instrument"~ I tried making a song that would expand on the stuff I was the most happy with in my previous projects. I really leaned into the lyrical aspects I began exploring in "The wind from the sea". The melody isn't perfect, but I tried to come up with sth more complex there too!
Translation + text under the cut
Light is pouring through the windows
The sun, an empty fish eye
Seems to be getting misty
Alone, above the clouds
Crushed by the weight of eyelashes
The sleep leached by a tick of sadness
I seem to have misplaced deeper meaning
Drip, drip, here comes the heavy rain
On the skin, on the eyes, in my lips, in my hair
Hold me tight and smother me
From blues to greys, from sadness and anger
Turn me into a song without words
Raindrops are falling and batter at my window
Hey, devil!
The doors stand open*
I sip tar for breakfast **
Sparrows eager to fly
Suspended in a half-state
I wish I was anywhere but here
A lightning tears the sky
It flogs the clouds like a shiver
Roaring wind and jealousy seethes inside of me
Drip, drip, here comes the heavy rain
On the skin, on the eyes, in my lips, in my hair
Hold me tight and smother me
From blues to greys, from sadness and anger
Turn me into a song without words
Raindrops are falling and batter at my window
Hey, devil!
The doors stand open
I'm fading away from the sweetness
And from the people's kind words
Nothing seems to matter anymore
God, someone please wake me up
If perhaps the rain
Wished to do me the kindness
Of burying me among mournful tears
Maybe someone would join in
And cried alongside it
Remembered me for at least a day
For one night, for a dream
Remembered me
Drip, drip, here comes the rain
Drip, drip, soothe and sink me
Through the mouth, through the throat, in my lungs, in the depths
Tear out the breath, free from the dreams
From blues to greys, from sadness and anger
Turn me into a song without words
If I drown, then, perhaps
Somebody better
Will emerge into the sun
*a direct quote from, followed by a reference to Leopold Staff's poem, "Autumn Rain"
** a reference to a Polish phrase "a spoonful of tar in a barrel of honey", which means "a little bit of something bad that can ruin a lot of good"
Światło sączy się przez szyby
Zdaje się zachodzić łzami
Słońce, puste oko ryby
Samotne nad obłokami
Przygnieciona wagą rzęs
Sen utoczył smutku kleszcz
Chyba gdzieś zgubiłam głębszy sens
Kap, kap, nadciąga wielki deszcz
Na skórze, na oczach, w mych ustach, we włosach
Obejmij mnie ciasno i zduś
Z błękitów w szarości, ze smutku i złości
Mnie przemień w piosenkę bez słów
Dżdżu krople spadają i tłuką w me okno
Hej, diable!
Otwarte stoją drzwi
Sączę dziegieć na śniadanie
Wróble rwące się do lotu
Zawieszona we wpół-stanie
Chcę być wszędzie byle nie tu
Błyskawica niebo tnie
Smaga chmury niczym dreszcz
Dmący wiatr i zazdrość we mnie wrze
Kap, kap, nadciąga wielki deszcz
Na skórze, na oczach, w mych ustach, we włosach
Obejmij mnie ciasno i zduś
Z błękitów w szarości, ze smutku i złości
Mnie przemień w piosenkę bez słów
Dżdżu krople spadają i tłuką w me okno
Hej, diable!
Otwarte stoją drzwi
Wypłowiałam na słodyczy
I na dobrych słowach ludzi
Chyba nic się już nie liczy
Boże, niech mnie ktoś obudzi
Gdyby może zechciał deszcz
Tą przysługę zrobić mi
Pogrzebać mnie wśród rzewnych łez
Może ktoś by przyłączył się
Zapłakałby w chórze z nim
Pamiętał mnie | przez chociażby jeden dzień
Przez jedną noc, przez sen
Pamiętał mnie
Kap kap, nadciąga deszcz
Kap kap utul i utop mnie
Przez usta, przez gardło, w mych płucach, w odmętach
Wyrwij dech, oswobodź ze snów
Z błękitów w szarości, ze smutku i złości
Mnie przemień w piosenkę bez słów
Jeżeli utonę, to wtedy, być może
Na słońce
Wypłynie lepszy ktoś
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The Outer Archives
Spoilers ahead for all of The Outer Wilds, all of Echos of The Eye DLC, and all of The Magnus Archives
So played outer wilds a couple years back, and its remained as my favorite game of all time, so I got to thinking recently, which locations in outer wilds can be mapped onto different fears from The Magnus Archives which i also loved! (Not as much as outer wilds but not really a fair comparison-) So today I got to work and made this:
First obvious thing before I go into my reasoning's for each is Timber Hearth is clearly missing, thats just cause I could not think of a link to any of the fears, it really is just a chill place- Anyway my reasoning's (some are obvious but bear with me) The Sun: Represents the end, I thought about maybe The Extinction, but thats more the end of humanity with everything else carrying on, the sun I think perfectly represents the end cause it's supernovae-ing alongside the rest of the universe, everything is ending and the sun serves as a manifestation of that. The Ember Twin: All those little cramped caves systems slowly filling up with sand that you can get buried and crushed in The Ash Twin: It's the centre of the whole loop, its the ash twin project after all, everything that happens in the game can be attributed to the ash twin project, something out of your control till the end that youre stuck in The Attlerock: Esker..... Its a tiny moon thats easy to miss, with the character who in game is forgotten about a lot by the rest of the Hearthians, a quiet space for them to be alone and forgotten Brittle Hollow and Hollow's Lantern: The whole thing is slowly falling apart and being destroyed, catalysed by the big fire rocks from Hollow's Lantern being chucked at it, Represents collapse and destruction Giant's Deep: Big water planet, open space, tornados that can throw you from a vast ocean planet, into the infinite reaches of space. The depths that Gabbro swears they say a sea monster in, very vast. Dark Bramble: I can see how people could think of The Dark for this, the anglerfish being blind and hidden out of sight, but I think corruption fits better for the "planet" itself, it wasnt always Dark Bramble after all, it was once an ice planet that dark bramble corrupted and grew on until it took over its host, shattering it. The Interloper: The cause of the slaughter of this games Nomai clan, senseless destruction and killing just by chance (The Trickster from Doctor Who/SJA would have a field day with this) The Quantum Moon: Constantly changing from what you expect it to be and what it should look like. It's surface is different depending on what planet it orbits, and everything on it moves around, the world is not right, its the spiral The Stranger (EOTE): Not because they are named the same, thats just an amazing coincidence. The whole thing is unknown, no one you know has been there, all has an air of unease and creepiness to it, the burnt out reels destroying/changing information, the whole time I was there, despite the peaceful river (until...y'know-) and calm vibes, under the surface theres something just not quite right Eye of the Universe: Again, not because of the name, another great coincidence, or i guess not really a coincidence. The eye sees everything and constantly outputs a signal calling people to it, it rebuilds a new world based on the experiences of the hatchling, what the hatchling has seen. Just like the eye in the magnus archives, it takes all the experiences of the main character (Hatchling/Jon) and makes something new built upon them (New universe/The apocalypse). Love to hear peoples thoughts and where they would place things differently (especially if yall have an idea as for Timber Hearth-)
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HEADCANON LOVE LANGUAGE & COURTSHIP
i'm going to start this off by saying that valora is a difficult person to love , or even really like depending on who you are . she is stubborn , combative , does not understand human emotion well or even emotion in general due to being raised in such an unforgiving and loveless environment . for those under the sea , i suppose it's easier for her to get along whenever she finds herself a love interest but it's worth mentioning ( especially because most people write muses that are from the surface ) that ...
valora's love languages are things she has learned while being in the depths . she does not know about land dwelling tradition & so therefore does not practice most of it knowingly . valora was raised in an entirely different world , where love itself struggles to exist .
but i digress ... let's talk about what valora does when she is plucking up the courage to court someone . i'll start with the underwater traditions and then follow up with how she chooses to adapt these traditions when on land .
01. it's common among merfolk to show romantic interest in someone by gifting them small precious things ( pearls , nice shells , crystals ... basically anything they can scavenge that looks shiny and/or colourful ) . this is seen as the sort of 'first base' among merfolk and is really what you do when you want to admit to having a crush . now , gift giving like this definitely happens when a relationship is established too , but this would be the first step of courting someone . these gifts are very often rejected by the potential love interest for the first few attempts , purposefully to play a game of ' hard to get ' just so they can see the lengths valora would be willing to go to in order to establish a romantic connection . while it is completely normal for the first few attempts to be rejected , there are of course ways in which merfolk understand when and when not to continue finding gifts . if the rejection is stern and the gift is buried into the sand ( away from sight entirely ), this means that valora should not continue pursuing them because they are not interested . however , if the person gently sets it atop the sand after inspecting it for a few seconds , that is their silent way of saying ' keep going and maybe you'll get there ' .
02. after having found the right gift , the courting stage can then move onto something different . now that interest has been established and returned by the other person , valora's next course of action would be to invite them to dance . she herself must prepare a stage , ensuring that every single detail is perfect . there must be no debris , it must be in a secluded and private location , the sand must be built into a specific pattern and the lighting must be perfect . a slight problem with any of these things could mean that her partner may end up uninterested by her . if the stage is to the persons liking , then both them and valora will engage in an intimate dance at the center of the stage .
side note : this is an old tradition , something that has been among merfolk for a very long time . the newer generations are more relaxed with the rules and although they still enjoy the traditional courtship , they are much less harsh when the small details are a little off . most people do not get this far without there being a genuine interest and so , this interest will not just collapse if a shell is facing the wrong direction . this would be the case for older generations however .
03. if you've managed to get this far , then that means this courtship is going pretty darn well ! the dance shared between the partners if often enough to seal the deal between most people ( especially the most recent generations ) but there is one last step that is an important part especially if you're from some kind of royal family . the courtship process at this point would be made public and the next step would be to come before the person's parents in order to ask for their approval of the relationship . if they approve , great ! if they don't ... well it can be complicated . for the royal family , a rejection is final and you will not be able to try again lest you want to be thrown in jail . for common folk however , it's more relaxed and you can find creative ways to sway the parents opinion of you .
that's about it for the basics of underwater courtship ... now onto the love languages between merfolk when they are actually in a relationship ... gift giving is still very prominent but there are a few other things that really scream ' i'm in love with you ' and i'll list them below .
preening scales & tails . a common love language among merfolk is the act of helping you partner take care of themselves . specifically taking care of their scales and tails/fins . helping your partner look their best by removing any dirt/blood/blemishes or even by styling their hair & adjusting their clothing , is seen as very romantic . it's not something you would do unless you are together with someone . for example , valora will not allow anyone to help clean herself unless she is very interested in them .
singing . while a lot of merfolks voices can be used for bad ( ie putting humans into a trance in order to drown them ) , it's also a very sacred way of really showing how much you love someone . merfolk absolutely do not sing for everyone and often reserve their voices for a person that they are totally sure that they love wholeheartedly . singing to your partner ( and especially if they sing back ) is like peak romance and it's almost a way of saying that they will be together forever .
in her time on land , valora has realised that love and courtship is seen very differently . she has learned to adapt her underwater methods whilst still keeping everything very similar . for example , she will still give gifts and still invite said person to dance if she feels the time is right . asking for permission is entirely unnecessary on land , so that's something she tends to avoid . she has learned that a lot of land dwelling people enjoy romantic meals , and so tries to put together something from their own culture instead of basing everything on what she was raised with . on land , valora will make a conscious effort to learn how to be more open minded .
#𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆 ; headcanons .#its 4am i am rambling#this probably make no sense at all fndkjsdkjskdqf but there u go
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A thing that watches endlessly but without thought, knowing but not understanding, drinking endlessly from an well of knowledge but never seeing what could be, giving endless nightmares to those caught in its ever hungry gaze
A hidden thing, something that is not quite right, a mask and strange music, a dance of its own, concealing things and a monster that pretends, a stranger to you and all that know
Depths, crushing and hungry, a thing that hungers to consume the sky and bury all of creation in its endless depths, deep below the earth, under crushing weight, there waits a hungry thing
A lie, a thing that is not, something that never was and can never be, an illusion, a hallucination of twisted things, a strange door/monster/thing that both is and isn’t endless hallways and a figure with too sharp hands and that both is and is not real, a door that was never there, leading to all the things that are insanity
Deep dark and the things within, all the things that are unknown, all the unsolved mysterys and an extinguished sun, a monster in the dark, a child’s fear
Ravaging fire, a burning thing of pain and loss, destruction in its purest form, things made of wax that only seem to be people on first glance, a woman born of fire and heat and a pact with something unspeakable
Rot and all the things that crawl, disease and disgust, a thing that corrupts and squirms, hives and sickness, a thing born out of all that is wretched
Blue skies, high points, endless places and falling until all gives out, it is all so infinitively vast, the sea and space, places that are too big to comprehend, feelings of vertigo and the fear of ones own insignificance
All that is alone, lost and hidden, a fog so thick and endless that its easy to lose yourself in it, a thing that comes for all that are truly lonely, isolated and cut off from all that might be comfort, the one alone, a thing of fog and mist
Death, simple and plain, it comes for all and is the root of many things, patient and quiet it waits for all to come to a close, roots that choke all things that die, the final end
A broken crown, a thing that is all that changes, all of the things that were gone, all the things that are human and what comes after, a change, the end of humanity and the end of the world
The chase and the chased, an endless hunt for things that might not even exist, endlessly running, being chased and afraid, the fear of being hunted and the hunter becoming the hunted
War, carnage and violence, pure and utter war, filled with senseless fighting and all the things that are slaughter
What we are made of, meant and flesh and bone, all the things that make us human, meat and all that is made of it
#the magnus archives#tma#writing#prose#i dont really know what this kind of writing is called#magnus archives fear entitys#more to follow#maybe#thinking of making a similiar thing but with the characters next
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War Journal: Salvation of the Prime Dominions #5
Wonderful news, dear journal! That which I have always suspected of myself has proven true at last: I am a failure!
Despite a great and savage battle at which I crushed the enemy and rose to heights of glory, the news from the battlefront revealed I had simply fallen for an orruk ruse. Me! Deceived by the filthy slaves of Twin-Headed Hungerer!
Three sites fell; although thankfully not a single one at which the Dark Choosing was stationed. The men under my command seem to eye me with resentment as word of our failure spreads around the camp. At least if they had fallen in battle, it would have been blood spilled. Instead, we put on little better than a show for starving orruks and a party for nothing but my own gratification. Rarely has my soul felt so terrible a depth of uselessness.
My compatriots seem less fazed by my dazzling incompetence and, understandably, more concerned about the ground lost to the terrible Mogrek. I feel wholly cast adrift, which I imagine is a feeling my native allies are dealing with eightfold. How would I feel if a great horde of green-men crushed humble Carngrad into the dirt of the Spoil? The Path to Glory asks you to stifle empathy and bury your feelings for others, yet as I see the mightiest of us bent and harrowed by what they've seen, my soul bleeds for them. Will I bend and break as they have when tested on the true crucible?
We will see. The Waaagh! has a tempting target in Iden's Vault, where aid has been requested. Given what I owe to Lethe, Dynawr, and Darathuus (as well as my abysmal performance at defense), I have elected to join them in that place, where many great treasures are held. The warriors of the Gilded Eye will like the opportunity to loot and pillage, and they will be free to do so in an area without civilian concerns. I think this will be better for morale than an exhilarating skirmish for naught.
Speaking on civilian concerns, I've been turning over the events at the Four Sisters in my mind. Many soldiers of my coalition chose to defend the area by swelling their numbers and corrupting the land. While I wholly understand the practicalities of their work, and cannot for a moment deny their efficacy, I cannot deny in myself the knowledge that what they've done is a diplomatic disaster. The Azyrites and the Ceraphate both find their actions distasteful, and I cannot even begin to hope they might be talked into seeing the wisdom of it.
I, myself, find a position of understanding their perspective while still thinking they're incompetent, short-sighted animals. It is just like the doomed tribe of my Silaasti brood; they take too much for themselves and refuse to any concession to thought or wisdom.
Perhaps there is an inevitability to consider. Perhaps I should neither punish nor even worry about my Coalition's behavior. Perhaps caring is a weakness that only clouds my vision. At the end of this war, we will all have made choices to alienate one another, and we will sit on pins and needles, hating and killing each other again until the next war meanders along. All I can hope is to bring glory to my mistress and death to Sarn Qarang's enemies. I'll consider the wisdom of abandoning my senses over the next phase of the war. Until then, I will find my bearings in a storming sea of doubt. We will not lose, even if this land burns to ash.
More later.
#ic journal#warhammer age of sigmar#aos#age of sigmar soulbound#soulbound#oc blog#animosity vi#warhammer#chaos#slaves to darkness#warcry
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