#serenity cataclysm

[serene-sky-kid]

I'm really curious about Icarus, so i'll start with easy questions! Can you tell us five random facts about him?

Oh! thanks for asking! Icarus is a character still under construction so there might be some changes but I'll try to tell you some facts that probably won't change.

Icarus is very popular in all realms, very well known as a hero, you literally have to have lived in complete isolation from society not to know him. His history of altruism started a little before what I call the cataclysm, his contributions to security and order after the chaos raised his name to the top.

Only two adopted children are known to him, but not much is really known about both of them. Of his eldest daughter not much is known, her presence is almost null and icarus does not speak much about her unless asked. Icarus' youngest son is dead, everyone knows that the boy died in front of him without him being able to save him while they were traveling through wasteland, he always seems very depressed when he talks about it so no one asks if he will adopt again.

The story that everyone knows between hearth and icarus is always told from icarus' perspective, so whenever i says “what everyone believes” or “what everyone knows” is actually what icarus tells.

Icarus is quite vain, takes great care of his appearance, is quite performative, but never feels unnatural or dishonest. He always smiles serenely, you can see the cunning in his eyes, he is charismatic but stiff when people are too nosy, his personal life is quite restricted to the public, most people think it is a way to protect his eldest daughter from attention.

He doesn't feel the slightest interest in elders, ancestors or the past, for icarus the future is all that matters, clearing the sky kingdoms of darkness forever is like his goal, because that's the mission the light gave them, that's what the skykids exist for, that's the destiny.

This one is a gift to you… someone he knows refers to him as a mushroom head but he doesn't know that and he will be very angry when they tell him that to his face.

[computer-cryptid]

TRUST CEREMONY - Jhariah

my coloring on this one fucks unbelievably hard guys… im so proud of it.. anyway here’s cataclysm and serenity having a heart to heart in good clockwork fashion

[shield-and-saber]

char-ryl-roy & enya keen remind me of sol & jecki, send tweet

[simpforrooster]

did you tell him not yet.

rafe cameron x f!reader

summary: reader is secretly dating rafe, but he rouses some suspicion on surf day.

a/n: my first time writing for outer banks. i hope all my top gun fans love it. i’m back in my outer banks era and need to fill my rafe bucket. i def think i could fix him.

t/w: cursing, mentions of violence, allusions to smut, rafe and the pouges being rafe and the pouges.

"suuuurf day!" jj and john b run through the house, banging on all the doors. sarah and kei follow behind their boyfriends, chuckling at their behavior. pope and cleo exit their room, rubbing the sleep from their eyes.

"breakfast first!" you call from the kitchen, standing over the pan of eggs fresh from pougelandia's chickens. the pouges crowd around you, grabbing plates and stacking food on them.

jj kisses your cheek. "we'd never eat if it wasn't for you." rolling your eyes, you join your friends at the makeshift dining table.

"so after we eat, we head out to the beach and make a day of it," john b tells the group, sounding like a kid at christmas. once the plan is made and breakfast cleaned up, everyone piles in the twinkie.

your phone pings with a message. checking over your shoulder, you open it.

I miss you, babygirl.

your cheeks heat up at the thought of your boyfriend--well secret boyfriend.

rafe cameron.

sarah's psychotic, drug-addicted, low key killer of a brother. you couldn't explain it, and you never make excuses for his behavior, but you're in love with him. it's so cliche to say, but he's different around you.

the two of you got close after el dorado. it wasn't just one cataclysmic event. the two of you started running into each other around the island. no matter where you were, rafe seemed to be there. the more the two of you talked, the closer you grew. one thing led to another and he was kissing you in the alleyway of the general store.

of course, you couldn’t tell the pouges. they wouldn’t understand. not that you’d blame them. hell, you hardly understood it yourself.

rafe’s put your friends through it, to put it mildly.

shooting rafe a quick reply, you help the pouges set up on the beach.

~

after an uneventful morning of surfing and relaxing, the sound of a truck pulls you from the serenity.

"oh god, no. don't stop here," jj murmurs into kie's shoulder. the two of them were wrapped around one another, as if they couldn't stand to not be touching.

kooks.

the truck behind topper is the one that gains your attention.

rafe.

"Sarah, what's your damn brother and his friends doing here?" pope asks.

"fuck if I know, pope!" she shoots back.

naturally, the kooks park their vehicles a little ways down from y'all. topper and ruthie fall out their vehicle first, topper giving a sarcastic wave.

rafe climbs from his truck looking devastaing in his ray bans and striped shirt. he glances your way, and though you can't see his eyes beneath his sunglasses, he raises his brow slightly, acknowledging you.

goosebumps flood your body and all you want to do is run to him.

"I'll go say something," jj says, untangling himself from kie. she tries to talk him out of it, pulling him back down to her.

"listen to kie, jj. I'll go," you tell them, loving the excuse to go talk to your boyfriend.

as you cross the sand toward the kooks, rafe fixes you with a terrifying grin. one that confirms to everyone else, he has nothing but disdain for you, but you know better.

rafe moves toward you, meeting you between where everyone is set up.

“what’s up, pouge?” he nods.

“kook.”

rafe pulls his shades down his down his nose, giving you a free show of his eyes you love so much.

“look, just keep your friends on that side of the beach and we’ll stay on ours,” you reason, feeling your friends a few steps behind you.

“you know,” rafe starts, completely ignoring your suggestion, “you’re pretty sexy for a pouge. why don’t you and i get out of here.”

he makes a show of dragging his eyes up and down your body. a light brow flicks up in approval. as much as you love a good bikini, you’ve been dying to test drive your new black one piece.

“what the fuck, rafe?! don’t talk to her like that!” sarah says, coming up beside you.

“baby sis, hey,” he gives her one of his signature dead inside looks. “i’ll talk to her however i want. she doesn’t seem to mind, hmm?” he winks at you over his raybans.

“bite me, rafe.” you cross your arms over your chest.

“gladly,” he grins.

“tell your buddies to leave us alone, dick,” sarah tells rafe, grabbing your hand to pull you back to your friends.

rafe wiggles his fingers at you in a condescending wave. “let me know when you’re tired of jacking around with those lowlifes.”

~

for the most part, the kooks left everyone alone, keeping to themselves. of course, there was a scuffle or two when it came to the waves.

as the sun falls below the horizon, john b and pope built a small bonfire. jj passes beers and a joint around the group.

“ugh, what is rafe doing?” sarah says, passing the joint to you.

“you know, that’s not good for you,” rafe tells you as you place the blunt between your lips.

“fuck off, rafe,” you say, blowing the smoke out.

“yeah, i’d rather fuck you.” the confession catches you off guard, causing you to choke on some smoke.

john b stands to his feet, shoving rafe back in one swift motion. jj and pope scramble to their feet, ready to back up john b. rafe fixes them with a menacing stare.

“don’t put your hands on me again, pouge.”

“don’t talk to her like that again, asshole.”

“or what?” rafe challenges. his fists clench at his side. you know he hates that the pouges are willing to fight him over you. he’s the one who should be protecting your honor.

john b and rafe stare at one another, daring each other to make the first move. an impending fight and the crisp beach air has you shivering in the sand.

rafe immediately takes notice, having become hyper aware of everything there is to know about you. he reaches behind his neck, pulling the sweater from his body. dropping it in your lap, he turns without another word heading back to the kooks. you pray the flush on your cheeks isn’t noticeable in the firelight.

kie and sarah exchange a look, before turning that look toward you. the sweater in your lap smells just like the cologne rafe knows you love.

“well, i’m not gonna waste a perfectly good brooks brothers,” you shrug, letting the fabric warm you.

~

“that was so weird with rafe, wasn’t it?” sarah says when everyone is piled back in the twinkie. john b points the bus toward pougelandia.

“you mean when he showed that sheer amount of human decency?” you reply, praying your voice doesn’t betray you.

“or the way he was so blatantly hitting on you,” sarah says.

“or how you just let him,” kie points out.

“i don’t know what yall are talking about,” you say into the sweater sleeves, breathing in the smell of rafe.

“come on, y/n. tell us the truth. you fuckin’ rafe?” jj asks. john b slams on the breaks once he computes jj’s question. everyone is jostled around at the sudden stop.

“damnit, john b!” pope scolds.

john b turns and looks at you. “pouges don’t lie to each other.” you can see the hurt in john b’s eyes, just at the thought of you being with rafe.

“no, i’m not ‘fuckin’ rafe,” you tell them. it wasn’t a lie. the two of you hadn’t gotten that far in this secret relationship. john b held your gaze. seemingly okay with your answer, he hit the gas. the ride was silent the rest of the way home.

once everyone settled in their respective rooms with their respective partners, a sound came from your window.

followed by another.

then another.

investigating, you find rafe poised with another pebble, ready to throw.

throwing open the window, you scold him. “what the fuck, rafe?!”

rafe hoists himself through your window and into your room.

“you’re not supposed to be here. it’s too risky.”

rafe’s arms circle your waist. he pulls you to him, and positions his mouth at your ear. “no, what’s risky was parading around in that fucking bathing suit all afternoon knowing i couldn’t do anything about it.”

“oh you did plenty,” you said into his collarbone. he shivers under your touch, just as you do with his. “what was all that? jj asked if we were sleeping together.”

his lips move along your jaw in sweet, intoxicating kisses. “did you tell him not yet?”

your breath catches in your throat at the mention of ‘yet.’ “of course not,” you breathe.

his mouth twists into a smirk against your neck. he sucks the area where your neck meets your shoulder, leaving a mark. “your friends can’t handle the idea of their sweet little friend with someone like me?” the words travel across your body.

“it’s not that, rafe. do i need to list the ways you’ve wronged them in the past?”

rafe breathes out a chuckle. “i am well aware of my actions when it comes to those freaks.”

“those ‘freaks’ are my friends,” you caution.

he walks the two of you backwards, your knees hitting the bed. when he gently pushes you back, the box spring creaks beneath you.

“hmm, that’s no good,” rafe remarks at the noisy mattress. “you’ve got to let me replace this with something better.”

attacking your neck with kisses, you suddenly forget what the two of you were talking about. rafe engulfs you between himself and the bed. “you’re still wearing my sweater,” he notices.

“of course i am,” you murmur.

his hand travels up your leg fluttering against your lacey underwear, a moan escaping his mouth. “perfect,” he breathes.

“don’t flatter me, cameron,” you say, pulling his mouth against yours. he works his expert lips against yours. you squirm beneath him, feeling his erection against you.

he chuckles against your lips. “baby, you know i don’t do flattery.”

every move the two of you makes is met by the squeak of the mattress. an aggravated groan falls from his lips. “this isn’t happening tonight, is it?”

you shake your head against his chest, hiding a grin. “not on this mattress”

“i’m not opposed to the floor. or my bike. there’s the beach. or y’all’s rickety bait shop. what about jj’s boat?” rafe rattles off every idea.

“rafe, our first time cannot be at any of those places. i want it to be perfect,” you tell him, kissing his cheek. rafe’s head falls into your shoulder. “and jj’s boat is 100% out of the question.”

“okay, baby,” he concedes, pulling himself from you.

“where are you going?” you whine, gripping his shirt to bring him back to you.

“tannyhill?” it comes out as a question.

“stay with me,” you whisper. “just be gone before everyone wakes up.”

“anything for you.” rafe strips down to his boxers and climbs under the blankets next to you. “i never want to see this sweater off of you. you look so fucking sexy in it. seeing it on you at the beach almost did me in. i want everyone to know you’re mine.”

“i’m yours, rafe,” you murmur, cuddling your body into his.

the two of you drift to sleep wrapped in one another’s arms.

~

“i fucking knew it!” jj’s voice comes from your door.

[the-name-stealer]

hello!!! Intro time!!!

Hi!!! Call me anything.

I steal names!

If you want your names removed, reblog/send ask/ privately message me! I answer anons so it’s hard to sort through who is okay with it.

Give me your name. Or someone else’s. I’m not picky.

names I’ve stolen: (will tag if they have blogs+who gave it to me if it was someone else)

Noah 1

bugg 2

Oakley :3

Rebekah (from @biggesthuskersimp589)4

Willow (^^)5

Lewis (^^^)6

Olivia(^^^^)7

all of @river-nonbinary-billcipherfan nicknames! 8

Samah! ( @that-0ne-sam)9

Bill Cipher! ( @billcipher-rpblog)10

Maryland! ( @maryland-officially)11

Hawaii! ( @hawaii-official)12

Lep! ( @leprechaun-stealerofgold)13

Squeaky! ( @postalignments)14

James! ( @more-trans-beans) 15

Pyramid Steve! (From @billcipher-rpblog, taken from @i-amsteve)16

Khriz! (From @the-lunacy-system taken from @khrizantema9869)17

Kaitlyn! ( @literal-trans-beans)18

buck! (By @17ghostsinatrenchcoat)19

Alivia! (^^)20

Cataclysm, Nibiru, Roav, 7-3, Ælr, nobaru! ( @planet-of-cataclysm)26

Holden! ( @hadoom) 27

quinn, ruin, yuri, and nikolai! ( @throat0fdelusion)31

penny, Margret, Samantha, Emu, and Warren! ( @pennyroyald)36

silver & milky! ( @official-milky-way)38

anon (anon) 39

PSR J0437-4715 & 1rxs. ( @1rxs-offical) 41

Rian (taken permanently from @river-nonbinary-billcipherfan) 42

neon! ( @neoninglitchen) 43

Katelyn ( @katiewolf) 44

banana, mango, grape, orange, melon, and lemon ( @fruit-tree-system) 50

Monaco ( @officially-monaco)51

peachy ( @importantpeachfury) 52

Colorado ( @colorado-real)53

Oregon ( @oregon-officially)54

North Carolina ( @the-fr-north-carolina-totally)55

Michigan ( @michagan-the-state)56

Violet ( @violetthediamondsblog)57

Vitreous ( @vitreous-official)58

faye! ( @f4y3w00d5)59

Misa! ( @minimuppetmisa)60

nɒʜɈƎ/γnnɒɔƧ ( @₴₵₳₦₦Ɏ₴-฿₳₵₭) 62

Liechtenstein ( @offical-liechtenstein)63

Jalapeño ( @floatingcamel23)64

Logan (permanently taken from @pennyroyald) 65

Rachel Roth ( @half-a-goat)66

Dubois (anon) 67

unknown entity of darkness ( @unknown-entity-tm) 68

Rose/Róża, Minty, Kali, Noodle, & Thing. ( from @blog-of-some-dummies given by @pennyroyald) 73

In-n-out burger ( @in-n-out-burger-official) 74

Diafain (anon) 75

🐍💍 (anon) 76

Tori Simons (anon)77

Felhair de Ziaman ( @pennyroyald) 78

Britain ( @real-british-empire) 79

Carl Fredrick Wilhelm Johannes Maximillian Napoleon Zeus von Neumann the Amazing the Great the Protector of Domestic Tranquillity, ForMemRS. (Anon) 80

Zero ( @z3r0th3h3r0) 81

Tereza (permanently taken from anon) 82

marsh,syll,silk , mallow, mochi, pastel, lucid, Celes, Limetta, maria, Felix, theo, Axel, alex, aqua, nova, aster, caelus, Doku, Aurous, ann, lucas, luca, lucean, jack, phi, ray, peace, alba, chaos, tart, cake, Led, Charlie, Lamba, Xeno! (Anon) 118

Snow ( @sn0w-o) 119

Fiona, Talia, Mable, Boa, Egg, Clise, Pancake, Hypnos, Elysia, Seraphina, Agnes, Marceline, Claire, Noelle, butterscotch, frigg, soup, strawberry, marsia, beate, makoto, sock, bug, Florian, bea, Rosalina, marinella, Finka, nada, Yuri, sky, Olivia, fischl, cinnamon, amity, Ada, Lenora, Aida, Romy, Lys, Eliana, Cherie, océane, Esther, marcille, Astrid, Clara, Lacey, flowers, natsuki, sayori, Petra, Aphrodite, hatsune, crimson, viola, Jenny, juniper, Annie, marie,Tina, kanaya, Callie, Bonnie, Velma, Phoebe, Sabrina, Tori, Natalie, Kim, love, Corey, Courtney, misty, Yasmin, Laika, Tabitha, primrose, Beatrice, circe, johnette, temmie, gumi, himiko, Anne, nessa, Sonia, akane, Diane, Miku, merlin, adagia, miyu, aradia, Illya, azure, maya, Mira, marina, Andromeda, Alya, Stella, celestia, Celeste, nova, Lyra, hope, April, pearl, amber, violet, Kirra, clover, iris, calliope, blossom, Millie, tulip, Bibi, amy, Reyna, ambrosia, page, Leah, Charlie, Lilith, ellsee, maki, edeustus, ellie, Samantha, Amelia, Tiffany, Alyssa, Luna, caoimhe, Judith, Natalie, kumatora, aurelie, Kate, moon, nerisse, serenity, Lara, Sarina, Vanessa, Monica, cherry, Helena, Sophia, tiki, luzia, Laura, Juliette, aurora, corrin, annette, Hilda, madalena, Anna, ivy, Cynthia, byleth, caeda, Alexandrea, chell, Maria, mia, Katie, Veronica, Susie, comet, Jessica, eve, Eva, vivisection, heather, Donna, winona, guinivere, Roxanne, Lillian, Octavia, étolie, Marnie, Gaia, daisy, desura, amnesia, sunny, clementine, bocchi, Cara, Agatha, Evelyn, angèle, Louisa, Camila, roseline, louane, Averie, Melina, Lena, minthe, Emma, acorn, Cassandra, bread, willow, raven, kali, Sappho, harmony, mango, Hellan, Katelyn, aria, Elyse, Marnie, blanche, frasie, Freya, Charlotte, amandine,  Vivian, Sylvia, Sarah, Jane, Ashley, Mongolia, Alice, Sydney, pikachu, Michelle, Gowan, Madeline, Ellen, Marissa, Lana, Lilly, Ella, rose, may, Ramona, melody. ( @bitch-with-some-4000-names) 363

Tera , elfilin , carol, taranza ( @tmhj) 367)

ash ( @i-give-worms) 368

Jayne bishop ( @thegreatgeodo) 369

Josie & Scarlett ( @knight-real) 371

sir A. Goetia. ( @pennyroyald) 372

swiper ( @mronion) 373

grammarly ( @unofficially-grammarly) 374

Walmart ( @walmart-the-official)375

Whataburger ( @whataburger-possibly-official) 376

Vemödalen ( @no-such-thing-as-originality) 377

Sydney (Anon) 378

roselyn (anon) 379

Saioa (anon) 380

hygiea 10 ( @hygiea-official)381

Alex, Allen, Asher, Caelus, Calxe, Dalisay, Ennui, Fae, Joy, Kai, Li, Liit, Loe, Mia, Nemo, Nihil, Noël, Oakley, Pelex, Sasha, Somnus, Tama, Ramasses, Rin, Rowan, Willow, Zephyr, Zora ( @joyliit) 401

Alexandria (taken permanently from ^^)402

James/jamie and Martin/marty ( @throat0fdelusion) 404

Caesar & Charlie ( @caesars-crazed-ramblings) 406

Cosmo or Nyx! ( @spacecatdraws) 408

Africa ( @pennyroyald) 409

choccy milk, shortcake, cakepop, mossy ( @analog-autistic) 413

Michael (anon)414

Sally (anon) 415

blue (anon)416

William Shakespeare (<-never heard of the guy/j) ( @shakespeare-official-account) 417

Haejin Min ( @the-name-gifter) 418

fae ( @the-name-asker) 419

vee ( @urlocaldisaster) 420 (hehe)

Dr. Graves ( @the-gimmick-scp-researcher) 421

Zeus (anon) 422

Copi-Copi, Elemento, Adjetivo, Mente en Blanco, Chaucha, Yo Soy, Calugoso, Duquesa, Reina, Coliforme, Tepo-Tepo, Yo no Fui, Fierro Malo, Palmerita, Neumatex, Cortachurro, Etcétera, Maletín, Duque, Guasón, Jefe, Moneda, Cucky, Pelusa, Tía, Legui, Reality, Chester, Chu, Ro, Playita, Palmera, Señor, Re Frito, Pescado, Chamuyo, Calendario, James Bond, Rata, Cabeza de Chaya, Neumático, Repetido, Añico, Rucia, Gonzo, Chino, Cortéz, Albertito, Also, Cabecita, Bigote and Mutante (anon)

jaiden and blook ( @blookdoeswhatever, @jaidentheautisticwurm) 424

jaya (anon)425

erik ( @glitched-out-mess) 426

Caoimhe, Saoirse, Niamh, Ciara, Roisín, Darragh, Meabh, Aoife, Eoghan, Oisín, Fionn, Siobhan, Tagdh, Donncha, Aisling, Sadhbh, Muireann, Doireann, Sorcha, Síle and Aoibhe ( @can-i-explode-now)447

corabella (anon) 448

john smith (anon) 449

449

6/50 states

Items:

frog

worms x3

an Olive Garden I guess???

(Ooc: ^^the blog persona)

(Ooc: the blog persona (not mod) is pansexual, pangender, and demisexual! They like sewing and stealing names.)

(if you see me put your name on my main no you didn’t

my main is @buggz-owlz)

names that are given to us will be under #name giver

and names we steal will be under #name stealer

all asks will be under #name stealer questions

colors are just random colors we associate with the name given.

that’s all for now! Bye!

[captainfantasticalright]

Let there be light: and how light in Good Omens 2 represents loss and change. Focusing only on Aziraphale for this specific post.

Before the beginning: light already establishes itself as the beginning, but also one of the cataclysmic events through Aziraphale's eyes. It brings about the end; it sets time in motion only to make it stop ticking too. The first being that we see the light on is Aziraphale.

I want to emphasize that lighting is purposely directed and created, especially within the Soho set. Before Aziraphale"loses" his bookshop for the first time, before Jim arrives, he is illuminated from the back. It's peaceful, serene.

Serenity is entangled with the loss of"truth". There's a focus on light the first time we openly see Aziraphale lie to Gabriel.(He had openly lied to God before on the wall of Eden, right under her light).

This is the light reflecting Aziraphale's loss again. He has just severed himself partly from the "good". It's lonely, beautiful and complicated.

Light shines partly on him when he realizes the weight that his own morals brought down on Morag and Elspeth. He's gained insight, but at the cost of loss.

Of course very intentionally placing himself on the center stage. Light shining on him to literally focus how life threatening a false move could be. & Candle light at another moment of loss- but loss is not always meant in a negative way.This is the transformation into a less lonely, beautiful terrain of shades of grey.

Light before he loses the bookshop a second time here. But also shining through Crowley's words of not leaving him alone.

Most poignantly: light before he loses the bookshop a last time. To underline once again how important light is, Gavin Finney pointed this out about this specific scene: The beams of light are purposely directed to where they want them to in the acting area and they wanted it to be glorious for this moment (the kiss) in the bookshop.

"He is about to lose the bookshop so it's important that it looks even more sunny and beautiful".

Lastly, the light inside the lift is always there, true, but it's also the last time light illuminates Aziraphale in season 2. Which in this case, might be a precursor for another loss, and definitely indicates another change.

[wackus-bonkus-maximus]

Even now, with his father lost to the universe, and not even a body to bury, Gabriel was still here. He was in his room, in all the belongings his money had bought, in all the clothes that bore his brand. He was in the Miraculous on Adrien’s hand, the twin rings hanging from a chain he could never remove, in all the words Ladybug refused to tell Chat Noir. And he was in the statue in the Place des Vosges, immortalized in gold, looking out at the city with serene contemplation, but never down at Adrien. Never again. “He was Monarque,” Adrien spoke into the darkness. Maybe Plagg could hear, maybe not. His Kwami was always good about knowing just what Adrien wanted him to know. “My father was Monarque.” His words hung hollow in the silence, their weight somehow growing heavier on Adrien’s chest as he spoke. The voice didn’t answer, keeping silent long enough for Adrien to wonder, once more, if he really had imagined it. Then it was there again, as close and clear as though its speaker was in the room with him. You’re Chat Noir, it told him firmly. Cataclysm his statue.

moonie i'm obsessed.

[jamesandnina6389]

On a tragic day in 79 AD, Mount Vesuvius erupted with cataclysmic force, forever altering the landscape of the Roman Empire. While the nearby city of Pompeii often takes center stage in discussions of this disaster, the neighboring city of Herculaneum holds an equally haunting and compelling story. Unlike Pompeii, which was buried under a layer of ash, Herculaneum was engulfed by a river of superheated volcanic mud and pyroclastic surges. This thick covering preserved the city in remarkable detail, offering us a rare and intimate glimpse into the lives of the ancient Romans.

A Glimpse Into Roman Life

One of the most fascinating aspects of Herculaneum is how its preservation allows us to see the structure of Roman society. Wealthy Romans lived in grand villas adorned with intricate mosaics and frescos, complete with private baths and gardens. These homes would have overlooked the sparkling Mediterranean, offering a serene view of the sea. Today, the preserved remains of these villas provide a rare glimpse into the luxury and sophistication that characterized the lives of the upper class in Roman society.

But Herculaneum was not just a city for the wealthy. Archaeologists have also uncovered modest homes and public buildings, such as baths, bakeries, and taverns, that catered to everyday citizens. These findings have allowed historians to reconstruct not only the architecture but also the social dynamics of the time, from the bustling marketplace to the intimate gatherings in private homes.

Lessons From the Past

The tragic fate of Herculaneum’s inhabitants serves as a stark reminder of the power of nature and the fragility of human life. The rediscovered beachfront area, with its skeletal remains and tragic stories, brings home the immediacy of the disaster in a way that mere words or artifacts cannot. As you stand on the site where these ancient people perished, it is impossible not to reflect on the suddenness with which life can change.

Yet, out of this tragedy has come one of the most extraordinary archaeological discoveries of all time. Herculaneum offers us a unique opportunity to understand the world of ancient Rome in intimate detail, from the artistry of its frescoes to the everyday objects that tell stories of ordinary lives lived thousands of years ago.

Conclusion

The beachfront of Herculaneum is not just a tragic site of loss; it is also a place of profound discovery. Through the preservation of the city and its inhabitants, we have gained invaluable insights into Roman society, art, and daily life. As visitors walk through the ancient streets of Herculaneum, they are transported back in time to a moment frozen by nature’s fury. In doing so, they are reminded of the resilience of human culture, even in the face of overwhelming disaster.

[doodle-pops]

✧˖°₊˚ˑ༄ؘ Watching Their S/O Die

Headcanon: Amrod, Argon, Angrod, Rog, Galdor

Warnings: war, death, blood, angst (angsty angsty angsty)

✧˖°₊˚ˑ༄ؘ Amrod

The chaos was a cataclysm, a whirlwind of confusion that swept you aside, leaving you helpless in the maelstrom of clashing steel and blood-soaked streets. Alqualonde, once a haven of serenity, now bore witness to a grim battle. The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood, and the city's once-pearly streets were marred by crimson stains and lifeless forms.

Amidst the carnage, a stray arrow found its mark, tearing through your cloak and lodging itself into your chest. The pain came as a shock, a searing burst that stole your breath and froze your limbs. Your body crumbled like a delicate flower, a single wound wreaking havoc on your very being. You felt life's essence drain from you, replaced by a numbing chill as your vision blurred and voices faded into whispers.

In the midst of your fading consciousness, a familiar voice reached your ears. Amrod. His calls were a lifeline, a desperate plea to keep you tethered to the realm of the living. You tried to respond, to reassure him, but your voice betrayed you, replaced by a fit of coughs that painted the cobblestones beneath you in shades of crimson.

Amrod's world shattered as he stumbled upon your weakened form, his sword dropped without hesitation. Kneeling beside you, his arms enveloped you, his touch a mix of urgency and tenderness. His voice, filled with aching desperation, pleaded for you to stay awake, to not slip away from him.

"No, Y/N, don't leave me," his words were a heart-wrenching melody, a lament for a love he couldn't bear to lose. His hand pressed against the wound, a futile attempt to stem the tide of blood. "Look at me. It's me... Please, stay with me."

Amidst his panic, Amrod's thoughts raced, torn between his need to keep you awake and the realization that help was nowhere in sight. His brothers were distant, unaware of the tragedy unfolding. His heart pounded with a mix of despair and determination as he cradled your frail form, the weight of your life in his arms.

With a surge of strength born from desperation, Amrod lifted you into his arms, his steps unsteady as he navigated the dangerous streets. His voice pierced the air, a desperate cry for his brothers' aid. He ran, his breath laboured, his voice hoarse from both shouting and the sobs that escaped his lips.

"Help! Brothers, help us!" His words carried the weight of a thousand sorrows, a plea for salvation that echoed through the devastation. He shouted for you to hold on, his voice cracking as he fought against time itself.

But as he ran, your grasp on consciousness slipped further away, and your final word slipped from your lips like a whispered secret. His name, a bittersweet echo, was your last connection to the world you were leaving behind. Despite his cries, his heartache, he couldn't alter the inevitable. In his arms, your life slipped away, leaving behind a trail of grief that mirrored the city's sorrow.

✧˖°₊˚ˑ༄ؘ Argon

Everything was a haze of cold and white. The blizzard raged on, unyielding and merciless, as you all trudged forward. Shadows of exhaustion and determination mingled in the snow-covered expanse. The blizzard had trapped you all, leaving no refuge for rest, no shelter for solace. Each step felt like an eternity, your footprints fading into the abyss as you pressed on.

For a fleeting moment, you held Argon's hands, a connection that tethered you to reality. But the chill had wrapped its icy fingers around you, stealing your strength and clouding your senses. Your breath was a ragged rhythm, your body faltering beneath the weight of the storm. The ground seemed to shift beneath your feet, the world around you a blur of white and cold.

Argon's grip, once warm and steady, now felt distant and numb. Your fingers clung to his, but they were unresponsive, a testament to the relentless cold that had crept into your very core. The gloves that encased your hands were futile against the biting cold, their purpose lost as your sense of touch faded away.

His voice was a faint murmur beside you, the words carried away by the wind. And then, as if pulled by some unseen force, your body gave way, sinking into the snow. You were too weak to continue, your body begging for rest, even if it meant succumbing to the frost.

Argon's arms enveloped you, his embrace a desperate attempt to share what little warmth remained. His breath formed clouds in the frigid air as he held you close, his body a shield against the cruel ice. He wouldn't let you go, not here, not now. The promises of a future together echoed in his mind, a reminder of the life you both longed to build.

"Stay with me, Y/N," he pleaded, his voice carrying a mix of urgency and desperation. His eyes, filled with concern, scanned your features, the wind stealing his ability to shed tears for the suffering you both endured.

Your voice, meek and frail, barely reached his ears over the howling wind. You were slipping away, your words lost to the biting cold. He lifted you, his strength waning, and took the first step onto the treacherous ice. His determination was a flame in the midst of a blizzard, his arms cradling you, his heart fighting for both of you.

"We're almost there," he murmured, his voice strained as he pressed forward. Your weight grew heavier, a weight he knew was more than just physical. He sensed your spirit departing, the bond between you growing fainter.

He trudged on, each step an act of defiance against fate. The weight of your absence settled on his shoulders; a burden heavier than any snow. The wind's icy fingers clawed at him, but he forged ahead, a silent prayer on his lips. He carried you, your lifeless form a testament to the cruelty of the storm.

Argon's heart felt as though it would shatter, yet he pushed forward. He didn't cry out, didn't scream to the unforgiving heavens. Instead, he clung to hope, the flicker of a miracle that might wake you in the warmth of the distant lands. With each step, he carried you, his love a lifeline in the heart of the storm.

✧˖°₊˚ˑ༄ؘ Angrod

Angrod was hit hard by the news of your village being raided by orcs. He didn’t know how to process his emotions; all he knew was that he had to get there as soon as possible to protect you from harm. You were his little mortal, a nickname he affectionately gave you due to your lively spirit. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you to the cruelty of the world, especially at the hands of such vile creatures.

However, when he finally arrived at the scene, it was too late. The devastation was overwhelming, with houses reduced to ashes and chaos reigning. His heart sank as he surveyed the destruction, his mind racing to find any sign of you among the chaos. Panic gnawed at him as he realized that he couldn’t sense your presence anywhere, and that sent a chill down his spine.

He cursed his own slowness, regretting not having confessed his love for you sooner. If you were wedded, he could have felt your presence through the bond. If he had been braver, he could have prevented this, he thought bitterly, replaying the nights of shared whispers beneath the starry sky.

But then, he found you. Not too far from where your home once stood, you lay on the ground, wounded and bleeding. Angrod’s heart stopped at the sight of you in such a vulnerable state. He rushed to your side, his hands trembling as he knelt down beside you. Tears welled in his eyes as he looked at your pale face, your strength waning but your eyes still shining through the pain.

“I’m so sorry,” he choked out, his voice heavy with grief. “I should have come sooner, should have protected you.”

He could feel rain starting to fall, as if the sky was mourning alongside him. He wanted to hold you, to shield you from the pain, but he knew he couldn’t risk making your condition worse.

Weakly, you lifted a hand to his face, your touch feeble but full of love. Blood stained your lips as you struggled to speak. “Don’t...blame yourself,” you managed, each word a battle against the pain that racked your body. “I’m...sorry...couldn’t defend...better.”

Tears streamed down Angrod’s face as he watched you fight through the agony. He cupped your hand against his cheek, holding on as if he could keep you from slipping away. He was overwhelmed by a sense of helplessness, a feeling of being unable to save the one he loved most.

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated, his voice breaking as he held you close. Rain poured down, mingling with his tears, a physical representation of his pain. He wanted to scream, to unleash his anguish, but all he could do was hold you and let his heart shatter. The rain, usually a symbol of renewal, felt like a cruel reminder of his loss, each drop echoing the ache in his heart.

✧˖°₊˚ˑ༄ؘ Rog

Gondolin was in chaos, flames devouring all he held dear. Amidst the chaos, Rog fought valiantly, his heart ablaze with determination to protect the home and people he loved. His hammer struck with a thunderous force; each blow a testament to his unwavering resolve. But amidst the fury of battle, a chilling sensation pierced his soul. His bond with you turned frigid, a sharp pang of fear and pain that rattled his core.

With a swift turn, he scanned the turmoil, his eyes landing upon a scene that stole the air from his lungs. An orc's foul blade had found its mark, and your figure crumpled against a wall. Rog's world shattered beneath him as if the earth had given way. He stumbled, his strength forsaking him like sand slipping through his fingers.

Rog charged through the chaos, a force of nature tearing through the battlefield. He didn't care about the orcs he cast aside, nor the path of destruction he carved. All that mattered was reaching you, holding you in his arms, and shielding you from the fate that beckoned.

"Y/N!" His voice cracked, a cry that pierced through the bedlam as he knelt by your side. His hammer dropped, forgotten, as his hand pressed against your wound, the pressure a desperate attempt to staunch the bleeding. He knew, deep down, that this wound was a harbinger of darkness, a toll that could not be undone. But he refused to accept it.

His gaze met yours, his eyes a storm of emotions. Weak but resolute, he spoke, his voice a whisper amidst the chaos. "It's going to be alright," he promised, his words carrying a weight beyond their syllables. "I'm here, Y/N. I won't let you go."

Tears blurred his vision, but he forced a smile, the tremor in his lips belying his own fear. "I'll save you, just like I promised. Remember? I'll always protect you, mírë." His voice wavered, the truth of his words echoing through the tumult as if to defy the very fabric of fate.

Your gaze met his, your voice a fragile melody that cut through the cacophony. "R-Rog," you sobbed, your pain etched in every syllable. "I'm scared. I don't want to leave...you."

He held you close, his arms a shelter from the chaos around. "You're not alone," he whispered, his voice a balm against your pain. "I'm here, Y/N. You'll never be alone."

And as the battle raged on, Rog clung to you, his presence a shield against the encroaching darkness. The world around faded, time itself seeming to stand still. In his arms, you found solace, the echo of his promise soothing your fears. You held on, tears mingling with the rain, as you let his song of love carry you to the edge of eternity.

✧˖°₊˚ˑ༄ؘ Galdor

Sirion was engulfed in chaos, the harsh clash of steel against steel echoing through the morning mist, shattering the tranquillity that once graced the city. The dawn’s pale light struggled to pierce the ominous clouds that gathered above, mirroring the sense of impending doom that hung heavy in the air.

Amidst the turmoil, you found yourself torn from Galdor’s side, a cruel fate forcing you apart as he valiantly defended his people against the ruthless Kinslayers. His heart raced, his mind consumed by worry, as he fought desperately to push back the enemy and ensure the safety of his home and loved ones.

But then, a sharp pang of agony sliced through Galdor’s consciousness, a chilling realization that you were in danger. His heart clenched, and his frantic eyes searched the battlefield, his feet carrying him through the chaos. He followed the invisible thread that connected him to you, each step heavier with dread.

Finally, he found you, your body sprawled on the ground, broken and bleeding, your breaths coming in shallow gasps. Galdor’s voice caught in his throat, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief as he knelt beside you. Helplessness gripped him, his hands trembling as he reached out to touch your pale, blood-streaked face.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice choked with anguish. “No, please... no.”

Tears blurred his vision as he cradled you gently, his heart aching at the sight of your pain. He held you close, his voice quivering as he sang your favourite song, a melody that had always brought comfort and solace. His voice cracked, raw emotion lacing every note, as he tried to soothe you even as tears streamed down his cheeks.

Your eyes met his, your own gaze filled with love and a quiet acceptance. You couldn’t speak, the pain too great, but your smile spoke volumes. Tears mingled with the blood on your lips as you reached a trembling hand to touch his tear-streaked face.

Galdor’s heart shattered as he watched the light in your eyes dim, the life slowly slipping away from your fragile form. His voice faltered, his song becoming a mournful melody, a desperate plea for time to stop. He clung to you, his cries of anguish mingling with the battle’s aftermath, as he whispered his love for you over and over.

In your final moments, you held his gaze, your smile a bittersweet farewell. And as your hand fell from his cheek, Galdor’s voice broke, a heart-rending sob escaping his lips as he cradled your lifeless body. The world around him faded into a blur, leaving him alone with the weight of a love lost and a promise unfulfilled.

Masterlist | Underrated Character Event Masterlist |

Taglist: @lilmelily @eunoiaastralwings @koyunsoncizeri @ranhanabi777 @mysticmoomin @rain-on-my-umbrella @singleteapot @asianbutnotjapanese @justellie17 @justjane @stormchaser819 @wisheduponastar @wandererindreams

[darknesseddiem]

𝐀𝐧𝐮𝐛𝐢𝐬'𝐬 𝐕𝐞𝐢𝐥: 𝐄𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐄𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Amidst the dawn of creation, when deities strode the earth as equals among mortals, humanity thrived in serene unity, untouched by the grasping tendrils of greed that would later mar the landscape. Stirred by the inherent goodness of their subjects, the divine council elected to endow them with a peerless boon: a guardian, a celestial warrior sculpted by the ethereal hands of the gods, ordained to safeguard the vulnerable and uphold equity amongst all.

Yet, the idyllic tranquility swiftly dissolved into a harrowing nightmare. With no need for celestial intervention, humanity succumbed to the seductive allure of avarice and pride, exploiting the guardian-warrior as an inexhaustible wellspring for their desires. Gold, jewels, fineries—all were but a whispered command away, conjured effortlessly by his boundless power.

Thus dawned the era of enslavement, a grim testament to humanity's descent into moral decay, as the defenseless fell beneath the yoke of callous overlords devoid of empathy. As calamity flourished and the divine pantheon grieved the degradation of their once-beloved charges, a decree resounded through the hallowed halls of eternity: the token of gratitude and trust bestowed upon mortals would be reclaimed and returned to its celestial sanctum.

Yet, the gods failed to anticipate a pivotal revelation: the guardian-warrior, born of their divine essence and combined prowess, surpassed even his creators in strength. Fearing his uprising following their futile attempts at annihilation, they decreed the most severe of punishments: eternal imprisonment.

Unaware of the extent of his own power, the warrior endured a punishing ordeal, encased within a sarcophagus of obsidian and unyielding stone, assailed by the venomous embrace of serpents and scorpions, his form suffused with chilled mercury—a spectral warden, condemned to an eternity of solitary confinement.

A formidable curse, imbued with the arcane power of millennia past, was woven into the fabric of his sarcophagus, its hieroglyphs serving as a dire warning to any who dared disturb the seal imprisoning the warrior, lest they unleash unfathomable chaos upon the world once more. However, amidst the shadows of time, an ancient prophecy, shrouded in the enigma of celestial movements and cosmic whispers, stood poised to redefine the very tapestry of humanity's fate.

In the heart of an unprecedented archaeological endeavor, an intrepid explorer embarks upon a quest of unparalleled magnitude, driven by the tantalizing allure of uncovering secrets buried deep within the sands of antiquity. Yet, intertwined with her journey lies a prophecy etched into the annals of time itself—a prophecy veiled in mystery, its origins lost in the mists of history, foretelling a cataclysmic confrontation between forces ancient and divine.

As the threads of destiny unfurl, two diametrically opposed forces emerge from the annals of legend: one heralding the dawn of salvation, the other portending an abyssal descent into darkness. Amidst this cosmic conflict, the archaeologist finds herself cast as a pivotal figure, entwined in the struggle between light and shadow, tasked with deciphering the enigmatic prophecies that hold the key to humanity's ultimate fate.

In this crucible of uncertainty, where the past converges with the present and the future hangs in the balance, the question lingers like a specter haunting the recesses of the mind: Can the immutable laws of destiny be defied, or does the intrepid explorer possess the audacity to chart a new course for humanity, rewriting the very fabric of existence itself?

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: +18 MDNI, violence, torture, Eddie has a demi-god name, etc. More will be added later.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: It's been a while since I had this idea and after my hiatus I finally had time to write, I hope you like this baby of mine just as I already have a huge affection for this story. Thank you for your support, I'll be back soon!! TAGLIST IS OPEN.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏𝐤

𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫.

If you like my works, support me with a small 𝐊𝐨-𝐅𝐢!!

𝐆𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲

𝐀 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲: Sutenankh, once revered for valor, finds himself ensnared in the ethereal confines of divine justice. As he awaits his fate within the celestial sanctum of Horus, his heart heavy with remorse, the gods decree eternal imprisonment. Meanwhile, a clandestine pact between Anubis and Horus births a prophecy of hope for a future liberator. Betrayal, anguish, and the weight of celestial retribution collide in a tale where virtue and destiny intertwine.

𝐉𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧: Ramses Thothmes, a wealthy Egyptian magnate, extends an invitation for a new excavation, promising untold secrets hidden beneath the desert's surface. As you convene with Thothmes to discuss the venture, a new figure emerges from the shadows – the enigmatic Colonel Duncan Smith.

Under Smith's watchful eye, the expedition sets forth into uncharted territory, where ancient ruins conceal dark secrets and lethal perils.

[0brighta]

cosmos&stardust server ✶

Hello, everyone! I'm thrilled to share that we now have a dedicated Discord server for those of us interested in crafting cosmic-inspired characters and lore—whether they’re celestial beings, star deities, or anything in between. I posted about it yesterday and got such a great response, so I thought, why not create a collaborative space? This server is designed to be a safe, creative environment for brainstorming and developing your characters, backstories, and interconnected worlds. We’re all here to support each other’s creativity and inspiration, so let’s keep the vibes friendly and respectful. If this sounds like your kind of community, you’re welcome to join us anytime!

concept ideas

The Guiding Star: A steady, unwavering presence, offering direction and hope, especially in times of darkness.

The Dreamweaver Star: A mystical figure weaving visions and dreams, perhaps aiding or haunting those who seek their wisdom in sleep.

The Healing Star: A nurturing, compassionate entity with powers of rejuvenation, renewal, or recovery.

The Morning Star: Bright and radiant, a symbol of new beginnings and hope, often seen as a herald of change.

The Night Star: Mysterious and reflective, connected to the secrets of the night and hidden knowledge.

The Evil Star: A dark, malevolent force, often feared as a bringer of chaos, calamity, or bad omens.

The Lost Star: A lone wanderer, separated from its place in the cosmos, representing themes of exile, isolation, or forgotten lore.

The Shadow Star: A being associated with mystery and illusion, existing on the edges of light and darkness.

The Phoenix Star: Symbolizing rebirth and transformation, this star dies only to rise anew, often after cataclysmic events.

The Dancing Star: Playful and spirited, embodying joy and spontaneity, spreading vibrance across the cosmos.

The Fallen Star: A star cast down from its celestial place, perhaps due to betrayal, loss, or some fated event, adapting to life on a new plane.

The Weeping Star: A sorrowful, empathetic figure, carrying the weight of cosmic memories or heartbreak.

The Golden Star: Radiant and regal, symbolizing wealth, glory, or celestial nobility.

The Winter Star: Cold, distant, and serene, embodying the quiet beauty and solitude of the winter sky.

The Midsummer Star: Warm and celebratory, thriving at the height of the cosmic summer, symbolizing vitality and abundance.

The Midnight Star: A figure who only appears at the darkest hour, representing secrecy, inner power, and nocturnal mysteries.

The Enigmatic Star: Known for their cryptic, elusive nature, always leaving behind more questions than answers.

The Twin Star: A part of a pair, often inseparable from their counterpart, symbolizing unity or duality.

The Eternal Star: Ancient and wise, holding the history of the cosmos within, often seen as a guardian of knowledge.

The Wild Star: Unpredictable and fierce, a free spirit untamed by cosmic order, representing chaos and passion.

The Star of Illusions: Known for bending reality, casting illusions, and creating mystical experiences for others.

The Protector Star: Vigilant and strong, a guardian of lesser stars or the cosmic realms they inhabit.

The Wanderer Star: A nomadic entity drifting through the universe, collecting stories, wisdom, and connections along its path.

The Beacon Star: A luminous figure seen as a safe harbor for lost souls, guiding them home.

The Whispering Star: A subtle, quiet presence, influencing through whispers, intuition, or visions.

[strawberrypinky]

Aesop could feel (Y/N)’s arms rise on his as her hands tempestuously held onto him for anchorage. With the urgency of a man starved, his lips claimed hers, unwilling to ever let her go again. The feeling was both cataclysmic and serene, the world shifting as their profound yearning for one another filled the space between them - the dichotomy hardly fathomable to Aesop himself. He loved her. He loved her beyond anything he'd ever been privy to love, and God only knew how much of a lucky bastard he was that she loved him back.

She was the epitome of what could be considered a diamond: radiantly exquisite, astoundingly brilliant, and incandescently propitious. And yet she was entirely and wholly his.

-

all your loving (all or nothing) part 3 - coming soon 🤍

-

moodboard courtesy of @legacygirlingreen 🐍💚

[melhyan]

Found this old draft from 2 years ago, a Witcher 3/Dragon Age dnd campaign:

Settings Overview:

The world is a fusion of Thedas and the Continent. The convergence was caused by a cataclysmic event known as the Confluence of Worlds, where the Veil was torn, merging the realms. The Wild Hunt and the Fade have intermingled, creating an unstable world filled with dangerous rifts and eldritch entities. Witchers, Wardens, and mages alike scramble to understand this new reality while kingdoms wage war over resources, land, and newfound powers.

New Factions & Characters

Factions

The Riftborn – A mysterious group of individuals who claim to have been born in the aftermath of the Confluence. They possess strange abilities that mimic both Witcher mutations and Fade magic.

The Blighted Hunt – A hybrid of darkspawn and spectral riders led by a corrupted Wild Hunt general. They seek to bring about the end of all worlds.

The Ivory Accord – A coalition of scholars, Witchers, and mages working to repair the Veil and prevent further catastrophes.

Key NPCs

Svala an Aen Ithlinnean: A former elven seer who witnessed the Confluence and now serves as the Riftborn leader. She has a prophetic air but is deeply conflicted.

Seren Vael: A human Grey Warden who wields a corrupted Witcher blade, struggling to resist the taint spreading through him.

Lorian Fen'Athul: A Tevinter mage who experiments with elder Witcher mutagens, hoping to create a new line of superhuman warriors.

" The air carries the scent of burnt wood and damp soil, mingling with the iron tang of blood. A chill clings to your skin, seeping through even the thickest of cloaks. Ardmire’s Hollow, once a bustling crossroads where merchants and travelers mingled, now lies in ruin. Its cobbled streets are cracked, strewn with debris, and the remnants of its buildings lean like broken ribs against a bleak, gray sky. Windows gape open like empty sockets, their frames charred black by the fires that consumed them. A toppled signpost lies in the muck, its faded letters half-buried and unreadable.

Thick, unnatural mist crawls across the ground, swirling in patterns that seem deliberate, as if guided by unseen hands. It clings to your boots and rises in faint tendrils, carrying faint whispers. They scrape at the edges of your mind—soft, incomprehensible, yet undeniably there. Sometimes the whispers resolve into snatches of words, or perhaps names. One might call it the wind… if not for the eerie cadence, as though the mist itself is alive.

You’ve each come to Ardmire’s Hollow for your own reasons. Some noble, driven by duty or a quest for knowledge. Others desperate, seeking sanctuary, revenge, or profit among the ruins. Whatever your purpose, fate—or perhaps something far darker—has drawn you all to the same place. Now, you stand together in the hollow’s town square, surrounded by shadows and the oppressive weight of a silence that feels almost alive.

The square is dominated by a rift: a jagged tear in the fabric of reality. It looms in the center, suspended above the ground like a wound bleeding light and darkness in equal measure. From it spills a cold, pulsating blue glow, broken by swirling tendrils of shadow that coil and writhe like living things. The shapes within are strange, too fluid to be solid, too defined to be mere shadows. At times, they resemble faces—anguished, screaming faces that vanish as quickly as they form.

Your breath fogs in the cold air as you stare at the rift. The longer you look, the more it seems to pull at you, like a deep ocean current dragging you toward its unfathomable depths. The very ground beneath it is corrupted, the cobblestones warped and slick with a strange, blackened ichor that seems to pulse in time with the rift’s light.

Then, without warning, the rift flares. A burst of searing light blinds you for a moment, and a low, resonant hum reverberates through the square, shaking the ground and rattling the ruined buildings. The mist recoils, scattering like frightened animals. From the rift’s center, a figure stumbles out—a woman, her clothes tattered and stained with blood, her face pale and gaunt.

She collapses at your feet, gasping for air. One hand clutches at her side where blood seeps between her fingers; the other holds tightly to a shard of what appears to be broken mirror glass. The shard glints faintly, reflecting not just the cold light of the rift, but other images—ones that don’t match the ruined square around you. A burning forest. A dark cavern. A face you don’t recognize, staring back at you with piercing eyes.

The woman’s voice trembles as she gasps, “The riders… they’re coming.” She struggles to lift her head, her eyes darting toward the rift and then to you. “Protect… the shard.” Her words fade into a choking cough as her body goes limp, the shard slipping from her grasp and landing in the mud with a dull thud.

The rift flares again, brighter this time. The air grows colder, and the whispers in the mist grow louder, rising to an almost deafening crescendo. Shapes begin to emerge from the edges of the fog—inhuman forms that don’t walk so much as slither, their bodies twisted and shimmering as though they exist only partially in this world.

The rift pulses once more, and the first creature lunges into the square...."

... From the archives, some snippets from that Dragon Age/Witcher DnD campaign everyone adored two years ago… until planning sessions turned into combat sessions. 🗺️➡️⚔️ Rip to the dream X'D😔💔

[jadeshielded]

🎲 Platonic, a blonde stranger is all too eager to learn about Liyue, showing interest in all that is offered. Although, his intentions can easily be called into questions. [Rerolls to avoid awkwardness are allowed.]

10. a kiss along the jawline

“Oh, so it’s you.”  

Zhongli couldn’t falter standing still, one hand resting at the small of his back while the other reached overhead, plucking a book from a high shelf. When one of the undertakers had cited a foreign man inquiring around town about the nation’s history, the natural response had been to come and enlist help, said man in tow.

Turning, he could see the woman falter – was it the carefully controlled acknowledgement, lacking for warmth? “Oh…you’ve met? Well. As-as I was saying,” Her gaze shifted towards the blonde. “Otto, this is Mister Zhongli. He can certainly answer any questions you may have.”  Another glance in his direction, apology shining there to which he gives a slight nod, turning in full so that she can take the opportunity to leave.

After a beat of silence, Zhongli moved carefully toward the table, throwing an expectant glance over his shoulder. “What do you wish to know?”

Everything was an understatement, the tea between them running low twice before the generous undertaker produced a spread of his favorites from a nearby restaurant, where he paused in his musings about the cataclysm for a tangent of the many, many variations of distinct dumpling recipes that could be found in every region of the nation. ‘Hundreds, although the very first was said-‘

It was rare to have such an attentive audience, that he could drift towards favorite memories and curiosities with a recklessness only allowed by Otto’s insistence for anything and everything. “Ah, but it’s late.” He’d said this a few times already, though this time he means it, standing from the table and leading the blonde toward the door. Night had well and truly fallen, the natural light of a fading sun replaced by warm firelight hours ago. Fatigue lingered in his peripherals, but in place of a farewell, Zhongli made the man pause, fingers closing over his wrist. “I appreciate the chance to reminisce with a fellow historian. Although, I would advise you keep your distance in provoking the Northland Bank, if only to save your own reputation in the eyes of the people.” Expression stony, amber eyes flash to the wound still healing before dipping forward, brushing a featherlight kiss to the sore spot swelling the sharp line of his jaw.

As expected, the streets echo the silence of his retreating steps, but even this is so serene that he opted to take the long route home.

[magnetarbeam]

"Only Jaina, whose feelings Jacen could always sense through their bond as twins, seemed calm. Whatever came, warning or no warning, voxyn or not, they would handle it - or not. They had cast their fates to the Force, and now they had no choice but to trust where it carried them. It was a strange sort of composure born of battle and death and suffering, the grim serenity of the soldier, who was both maker and victim of the all-devouring cataclysm."

-The New Jedi Order: Star by Star

[theconstructorr]

Episode 7: Su Han

Princess Fragrance Rewrite

A/N: I reposted this bc I rewrote it.

As the afternoon light streams through the stained glass windows, Ladybug and Cat Noir step back to survey their work. The church, once chaotic with dark energies, is still and serene.

A priest, clad in his robes, approaches them cautiously, his face a mixture of awe and doubt. "How...how did you do this?"

Ladybug's gaze drops. "They're powers I've been given."

"Why?" he presses, voice trembling with intensity.

"I...I don't know," she admits, fidgeting slightly.

"How is this possible?"

Ladybug shakes her head, her voice barely a whisper. "I don't know."

The priest leans in, eyes narrowing. "What are you hiding?"

"Nothing.”

Cat Noir steps forward. "We keep secrets to stay safe."

The priest's face hardens. "From whom?"

Cat Noir glances around. "From the people against us."

Suddenly, a voice rings out from the shadows of the church. "We should be against you!"

Ladybug and Cat Noir turn, eyes widening as they take in the crowd that gather, whispers rippling through them like a rising tide. Police edge closer, and faces in the crowd show suspicion, fear, and anger.

"If you're as good as you say, you wouldn't have anything to hide!" someone shouts.

Another voice joins in. "Who are you?!"

"Tell us the truth!"

The police step forward, seizing Ladybug and Cat Noir. Ladybug struggles, her voice rising. "You can't do this! We didn't do anything wrong!”

But the officers clamp handcuffs around her wrists, the cold metal biting into her suit. She looks over, horrified, as they try to restrain Cat Noir as well. In a flash of fury, he cataclysms his handcuffs, black energy radiating from his hand as he breaks free and lunges toward Ladybug. The officers tackle him, a scuffle breaking out. Cat Noir, desperate and frightened, cataclysms several officers, sending them sprawling to the ground.

Gasps echo through the church, and the crowd recoils, horrified.

"They're fine!" Cat Noir yells.

But the crowd turns against him, calling him evil. Accusations and questions erupt, growing louder and sharper. Ladybug and Cat Noir find themselves surrounded, police leveling their weapons at them.

One officer, standing firm, demands, "Explain yourselves."

Ladybug's voice quivers as she answers, "We don't know anything."

"Why are you here, then?" another shouts.

"To help!" she insists, desperation lacing her tone.

"Why you?!"

Ladybug hesitates, feeling small beneath the weight of their suspicion. "I...I don't know."

The accusations grow darker. Someone yells, "They sold their souls to the devil!"

Ladybug's face flushes. "No, we didn't!"

"You're lying!”

Cat Noir turns, fury blazing in his eyes. "Do you think the devil wants us to save people?"

A hush falls over the crowd. The silence is heavy, charged with tension. But a voice breaks it. "You're still not telling the whole truth. Why should we believe you?"

"Because we've never hurt anyone!" Cat Noir shouts, his voice raw. "All we've done is try to protect you."

A man from the crowd shakes his head, disgusted. "If that's true, why did you attack those officers?"

Cat Noir's voice trembles. "We're barely learning how to control these powers."

"You clearly know enough!" someone yells. "You made them drop dead right in front of us!"

Cat Noir turns to Ladybug, his voice wavering. "We need to go."

He grabs her hand, ready to lead her out, but then a gunshot rings through the air. He gasps, clutching his side, and in the next moment, Ladybug feels a searing pain as a bullet hits her too. She staggers, shocked, as the crowd pulls back.

Cat Noir, bleeding and struggling, pulls her close. "Are you okay?" he whispers.

She nods, but it's a lie.

On a rooftop, Cat Noir studies Ladybug's face. She's quiet, withdrawn, her gaze distant.

"Why were you acting so... off today?" he asks her.

Ladybug blinks, caught off guard. "What?"

"In the fight with that magician," he presses, "you weren't yourself. You were... different."

Ladybug hesitates, her voice faltering. "I—I didn't realize."

"Don't lie to me, Ladybug." His tone is gentle but firm, his gaze steady and unwavering.

She freezes, the fear of being exposed flickering across her face. "I'm sorry," she whispers, voice barely audible. "But I—I don't know."

Cat Noir studies her a moment longer, seeing her struggle in her silence. But he only nods, not pressing further.

Su Han adjusts his grip on his single suitcase as he steps into the cramped apartment. The dim lighting and the faint smell of something fried clings to the walls, reminding him that this is a world far from the temple he'd left behind.

His new roommate, a tall, wiry man with messy hair and a curious gleam in his eyes, gives him an appraising look as he shows him around. After a brief, silent tour of the space, the roommate finally leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms.

"So," he begins, a hint of skepticism in his voice, "why'd you move to Paris?"

Su Han meets his gaze steadily. "I'm a monk. My path requires travel—to spread our word."

The man raises an eyebrow. "What religion is that?"

"I'm part of a small church in Tibet," Su Han replies evenly. "It's... divergent from the religions you've probably heard of."

The roommate hesitates, his expression caught somewhere between interest and wariness.

It's lunch break and Marinette, Alya, and Nino head out of the building. The halls buzz with students, and Marinette keeps her head down, feeling the weight of the day settle over her.

"So... where were you during fourth period?" Alya asks, eyeing her with a curious look.

Marinette sighs inwardly. She'd gotten used to Alya and Nino assuming she just skipped classes sometimes. Keeping up the act, she shrugs. "I was in the restroom."

Nino shoots her a skeptical glance. "The whole time?"

"Yeah," she replies, trying to sound casual.

Alya raises an eyebrow. "Doing what?"

Marinette forces a smile. "Nothing. Just chilling."

"In which bathroom?" Alya presses.

"The one in the locker room," Marinette says quickly.

Alya and Nino share a look but don't push further. Soon, they say their goodbyes and head off, leaving Marinette to walk home alone. When she gets there, she makes her way to her room, feeling more exhausted than usual. She barely has time to lay down before her mother's voice floats up from downstairs.

"Marinette! Dinner's ready."

Groaning, Marinette gets up, not feeling particularly hungry, but knowing better than to skip a meal in front of her mom. Sabine's already at the bottom of the stairs, her expression laced with concern as she looks Marinette over.

"Marinette, you've been getting skinnier," Sabine says, her brow furrowing. "You really need to eat."

Marinette crosses her arms. "That's not true."

"It is true! Look at your arms; they're thinner."

Marinette feels the prickle of discomfort but forces herself to brush it off. She turns, intending to go back upstairs, but her mom stops her with another question.

"What time have you been going to sleep?" Sabine asks, her voice softening.

"Early," Marinette answers, though she can tell Sabine doesn't buy it.

"You look like you haven't slept in days," Sabine says, folding her arms. "If you don't start going to bed earlier, I'm taking your phone."

Marinette sighs, knowing it's easier to give in. She joins her parents at the table, picking at her food under Sabine's watchful eye. Halfway through the meal, Sabine looks over at Tom with a worried expression.

After dinner, she retreats to her room. Sitting on her chaise, Marinette can't shake the heavy feeling that has been growing inside her. She feels off. She calls out for Tikki, hoping the kwami would show up and offer a word of encouragement, but there's no answer. The silence is jarring.

"Spots on," she says softly, transforming, desperate for some sense of comfort. But the transformation feels hollow. She detransforms, the empty feeling hitting harder than before, and she finds herself sinking into tears.

Su Han slips quietly into Master Fu's home, his footsteps barely making a sound as he searches for any sign of the old man. The home is still and unfamiliar. But instead of finding Fu, he encounters a woman. She gasps in fear when she sees him standing in the doorway, her hands trembling slightly.

Su Han stares, momentarily thrown. He expected Fu or, at the very least, someone Chinese. He moves past her, ignoring her fear, and begins searching the room. Soon, he finds the Miracle Box, tucked away as if it were just another trinket. His fingers brush the ancient carvings as he prepares to take it, when he hears the woman's voice, speaking in precise, hesitant Chinese.

"Who are you?" she asks, her voice a blend of confusion and fear.

Su Han turns to face her, his voice calm but curt. "Who are you?"

"This was the home of my partner," she says, her voice softening as she speaks of him.

"Where is he now?" Su Han demands.

Marianne's face grows somber. "He... passed away. Only a few weeks ago."

A shadow crosses Su Han's face, but he quickly steels himself. "I am a monk, a guardian of ancient knowledge. I've come to retrieve something Fu took from us many years ago."

"The Miracle Box?" she asks cautiously, her eyes searching his face for a reaction.

"Yes. You know of them?"

Marianne nods. "Fu left them to me in his will. If anything happened to him, he wanted me to protect them."

Su Han shakes his head, frowning. "The Miraculouses never truly belonged to him. They belong with the guardians, in the temple, under the protection of those who understand their true purpose.”

Marianne's gaze softens with understanding but hold firm. "I understand, but... you can't just take them and leave. There's more to it than that."

Su Han remains silent, but her words strike a chord. He knows well enough about the other Miraculouses that had been activated—the Guardians had felt the tremors of their power ripple across the world. He opens the Miracle Box, inspecting it, and immediately notices two additional Miraculouses were missing.

"Where are the Butterfly and Peacock Miraculouses?" he demands, his tone sharp.

Marianne takes a shaky breath. "They were lost a long time ago, when Fu was a boy. When he escaped the temple."

Su Han's expression hardens as her words strike him like a blow. "When he caused the temple's destruction?"

Marianne nods, remorse filling her eyes. "Yes."

Su Han clenches his jaw, barely containing his frustration. "What about the Ladybug and Cat Miraculouses? Where are they?"

Marianne's gaze is steady. "They're with two young heroes here in Paris. They call themselves Ladybug and Cat Noir."

He absorbs this, his mind racing. "I see," he says, making a decision. "Let's make a deal. You will help me when I need it."

Marianne hesitates, then nods. "Alright.”

With his plan taking shape, Su Han decides he needs to embed himself in Paris. Finding the right connections was key.

Adrien and Chloe are outside school, their presence drawing the attention of onlookers and curious fans. A small crowd begins to gather, chattering and snapping photos as the two friends exchanged glances.

"Are you dating?" one of the fans call out.

Chloe smirks, slipping her arm through Adrien's with a confidence only she could pull off. "Yes," she answers, giving Adrien a mischievous smile. They brush past the crowd and make their way to Adrien's car, ignoring the whispers trailing behind them.”

Back at Su Han's new apartment, his roommate's lounging on the couch when Su Han enters, his mind still racing with plans.

"Hey," Su Han starts, "what exactly do you do for a living?"

The roommate looks at him lazily. "I don't really do anything. Just pick up jobs when they come around."

Su Han raises an eyebrow. "What kind of jobs?"

The roommate shrugs. "Whatever my friends pass my way. Sometimes it's moving things, sometimes it's middleman stuff. Just helping out."

Su Han's eyes narrow thoughtfully. Suspicious. "For what company?"

"No." The man shook his head. "Not a company. For whoever's paying."

"You work for the mafia?"

His roommate laughs. "Not really. But I've got friends who do."

"Get me in on your next job," Su Han says, his voice firm.

The roommate grins. "Actually, I got a call earlier. Me and some others are supposed to meet up soon. You should come."

Su Han nods, his mind made up. "I'll be there."

Marinette had wandered through the day in a fog, haunted by visions of earlier that day and the weight of the people's fear and anger. She sought comfort from her friends, but they too began to question her behavior. Alya and Nino whispered about her in the halls, their friendship growing strained as doubt and worry crept into their minds.

In Marinette's room, she takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself, but the worry in her heart doesn't settle. She looks over at Alya, who's busy scrolling through her phone, and finally speaks up. "Alya... when you were possessed, were you scared?"

Alya looks up, her face darkening with a memory she'd rather not revisit. "Yeah," she says, her voice softer. "I was terrified. I felt like I was trapped inside my own mind."

Hearing this, Marinette's chest tightens, and before she can stop herself, tears well up in her eyes. She quickly turns away, but Alya already noticed.

"Did something happen?" Alya asks gently, her voice filled with concern. "Do you... feel like that too?"

Marinette bites her lip, fighting to keep her emotions in check. "I don't know," she whispers, wiping her cheeks. "I just... feel like something's wrong, but I can't figure out what."

Alya's brow furrows. "Did you go somewhere? Do you think something happened that caused this?"

Marinette swallows hard, remembering her encounter that morning at the church and the unnerving feeling that has lingered ever since. She can't tell Alya about the attack or the dark whispers that followed. But she nods. "Yeah... it started this morning."

Alya's eyes narrow, almost accusingly. "You were skipping class, weren't you?"

Marinette hesitates, then gives a small nod. "Yes," she admits, her voice barely a whisper.

Alya sighs. "What are you doing when you skip? Are you meeting up with someone?"

"No," Marinette says quickly. "I just... sit alone. That's all."

Alya folds her arms, her gaze skeptical. "You're lying."

Marinette's eyes widened. "What?"

"I know when you're lying, Marinette," Alya says firmly. "You're up to something."

Marinette shakes her head, struggling to keep her voice steady. "No, Alya. I'm not lying. I just... don't go to class. I sit in the restroom. That's it."

Alya studies her for a long moment, then leans closer, her voice softer but insistent. "Why, Mari? Why don't you want to go to class?"

Marinette can't find the words. "I just... can't."

Alya's expression softens, concern returning to her eyes. "Have you always been like this?"

Marinette shakes her head. "No..."

Alya lets out a sigh, as if she's trying to piece it all together. "Whatever's going on, whatever you're doing while skipping... stop it, okay? It's not helping. It's only making things worse."

Marinette looks down, not answering, but Alya's words linger in her mind.

Meanwhile, Adrien and Chloe sit in the kitchen, sharing a quick lunch before they head back to school. The last person Adrien expects to see is his father, but Gabriel appears in the doorway, his face stony and cold. Without a word, he raises a gun and shoots Chloe.

Adrien freezes, shock pinning him to his seat. The silence stretches until he finally manages, "Why'd you do that?!"

Gabriel's eyes are ice. "You will not have girls here without my permission."

Adrien's anger flares. "Why do you need to know everything I do? You don't even know me!"

"I'm your father! Of course I know you!"

"No, you don't!" Adrien shoots back, his voice cracking with frustration. "You don't know anything about me! You just want to control me—for what? You don't even care about me!"

Gabriel's face hardens further. "You're right," he says sharply. "I don't give a damn about you. But you will not disrespect me by doing whatever you want in my house."

Adrien clenches his fists, his heart pounding. In a burst of rage, he lashes out, but the sight that meets him is no longer his father—it's a monster. Pain and darkness wash over him, leaving him gasping on the floor.

Chloe's crouched beside Adrien, shaking him, her face twisted with worry. "Adrien, wake up!" She starts to panic. "What the hell?—are you on drugs?"

Adrien groans, blinking himself back to consciousness. "No, Chloe."

"Then what is wrong with you?" Chloe's voice cracks. "This is the second time it's happened!"

"I don't know," Adrien mumbles, struggling to his feet.

"You have to tell Nathalie," Chloe insists.

Adrien sighs. "Fine." But he knows he won't.

In between class, Adrien's accompanied by Chloe, as if she's dragging him along like a prize she needs to flaunt, when she confronts Marinette.

"Why do you keep staring at him?" Chloe sneers, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear. A hush settles over them.

Marinette's face turns red. "I-I wasn't."

Chloe laughs, leaning toward Adrien, tilting her head to look up at him. "She likes you. Can you believe it?" She turns back to Marinette, her smirk razor sharp. "That's just sad."

Bystanders burst into murmurs, snickers—the kind that suffocates Marinette like fire. Her face burns, her stomach churns, and Adrien—Adrien—just stands there. She can't even look up at him.

Without a word, Marinette turns and rushes away.

As night falls, Su Han and his roommate meet with a boss. Su Han hoped for something more promising and voices his disappointment. "If you ever need someone for a... more permanent job, I'm experienced." The boss looks him over with new interest, and they exchange numbers, a subtle understanding passing between them.

Marinette, back in her room, is seething. She feels the tension in every muscle, anger boiling up inside her. She throws her belongings around the room in a fit of frustration, until she finds herself staring at a picture of Adrien. Her anger morphs into desperation, her fingers brushing the photo as if he might somehow offer her solace. She hates how Chloe always seemed to win. She wants Adrien to herself.

The thought twists her mind, and before she knows it, she's transforming. But something's wrong—her body feels heavy and numb, her movements sluggish. She can hear faint tapping and murmurs, echoing around her, and a chill runs down her spine.

Meanwhile, Adrien's in a nightmare, alone in his room as shadows gather around him."You'll become just like him," they whisper. Then, before him, his father's face twists into something monstrous before morphing into Plagg’s, then more demons, floating around him, closing in. Their voices grow louder, tormenting him, telling him he will hurt everyone he loves, that he's destined to repeat his father's sins. He tries to fight back, to break free, until finally, desperate, he uses his Cataclysm on himself, bringing an end to the vision.

When he comes to, he's no longer in control. Something within him takes over, and he staggers to his father's room. The last thing he remembers is raising his hand in anger before he uses Cataclysm again, collapsing into darkness.

The following morning, Nathalie finds Gabriel and Adrien dead in Gabriel's room. She barely suppresses a gasp, instructing the bodyguard to leave for the day and ensuring no one would ask questions.

Meanwhile, Su Han returns to Marianne's, determined to take one of the Miraculouses to aid him. He choses the Snake Miraculous, but ultimately decides the remaining Miraculouses would be safer with Marianne.

Marinette, after classes, doesn't go home. Instead, she transforms, her emptiness enveloping her as she perches on a rooftop. She drifts through the city, finally finding herself near Adrien's house. She climbs up to the roof, but before she can reach the top, a dark, clawed figure appears before her, snarling. In her fear, she slips, landing hard. Dissevered, she stumbles inside the home, setting off security alarms. Nathalie rushes down, her expression a mixture of disgust and horror as she takes in Ladybug's paranormal state.

Ladybug tries to make her way upstairs, but Nathalie strikes her down. When Ladybug falls, Nathalie follows the trail of blood left behind. Following it, Nathalie finds flesh.

She kneels beside it, her eyes narrowing as she digs her hands through it and searches for the fallen Miraculous within it. But it turns her stomach, and she draws back in revulsion. Grimacing, she returns to the house, lifting Ladybug's limp form and carrying her outside. She gently lays her down.

With steady hands, she reveals the faded scar on her forearm—a mark Gabriel had once carved. She takes a deep breath and presses the blade to her skin, removing a thin layer of skin from her forearm. Her blood spills, severing the connection. Finally, Ladybug gasps, her eyes fluttering open as life returns to her.