#shower lore

[cursedthing]

.imagining pearl like this at times

[baeshijima]

mmm thoughts of private executioner!blade, who is high priestess!kafka's bodyguard. well, more like her guard dog, as many fearfully seem to think.

he is aloof and gruff and rough around the edges, his name capturing it perfectly. when in the eyes of the public he either keeps to himself or stands ready by kafka's side, but when out he lurks in the shadows ready and waiting to carry out her death orders.

you, yourself, haven't had very many pleasant encounters with him... if you can even call them that. that being said, you haven't had many pleasant encounters with anyone. notorious for your... less than pleasant disposition, for a lack of better words, you have more people who'd rather see you run through than those you can call a friend.

in a dog-eat-dog world, you had no choice but to protect yourself. that, however, ultimately became your demise.

"oh? so you're the one sent to kill me. can't say i'm all that surprised."

standing before you is the feared executioner. his sword is tucked inside the sheath attached to his hip, that ever-present dark swirl of an aura stifling the air. he doesn't say anything, instead opting to silently stare down at your slumped and worn-out form. you find that his gaze doesn't bother you; rather, it's oddly comforting knowing someone will see you in your last moments.

"i've never asked you for a favour before, so this will be my first and last request for you." in all honesty, you're not sure where this chattiness stems from. considering you're currently in a holding cell under the crime of attempted murder towards kafka (a poisoned wine you were most definitely framed for, though you can't say you were surprised) and are awaiting for your turn to be under the guillotine for your public execution, you probably should be a little desperate towards the private executioner in front of you.

and yet, your mind is nothing if not peaceful.

with a huff, you relay your request, "can you make sure it's quick? painless, preferably, but i'd rather you just get it over and done with."

silence blankets the cold chambers. moisture accumulated along the cobble ceiling drip in a steady rhythm, like a clock ticking away the seconds. it's unnerving, almost, how there is not a single sound other than your impending countdown.

"why?" comes his low mutter, effectively causing a ripple within the stagnant air. you almost think you misheard him, but his following words cease the thought, "why won't you ask me for help?"

had it not been for the abrupt shuffle and clanging against the metal bars, you would have never looked up to see him in your last moments.

his scarred hands gripping the metal until his knuckles turn a ghastly white and blood dripping from his palms is what greets your sight. as your gaze slowly trails up, you almost let loose a laugh of disbelief; who would have thought blade, the infamous guard dog of the high priestess, could make such a desperate expression? one looking as though his whole world crumbled before him, in which he can do nothing but sit and watch.

(you will never know of the anger and desperation which coursed through his veins the moment he heard of your predicament. had it been anyone else, he wouldn't have cared. but you're not anyone else; you're you — unapologetically, wholeheartedly. it didn't take him long to hunt down those behind it, cutting them down without thought and putting an end to their miserable lives. he rushed as soon as he could when kafka gave him the order, no thoughts other than you, you, you, occupying his mind.

you will never know of the anguish which overcame him when he found you in such a state, your once healthy complexion and defiant gaze reduced to nothing but a tiredness which had always sat quietly behind your disposition. he's almost positive the muscle which unwillingly keeps him alive tore at the seams from your request, the acceptance in which you displayed causing his mind to go astray. even as he damn-near begs you to rely on him for help — to run away with him to some place no one knows of you and start anew there — you merely smile, resigned and peaceful.

you will never know of how much blade is willing to put on the line for you, for you never made it to see the complete and utter carnage he wrecked in your name.)

[mostly-natm]

Fun in the sun! ☀️🐝🌸

[psychotic-nonsense]

|| >

There's not much Steve remembers.

There's a group of people walking through the woods, some older, some teens. He's amongst them. The sky is too dark and the trees are too dead. His hands are tight, holding something close. There's an air of panic, stress, hurry, caution. A mistake was made, and they need to escape.

Then instincts flare and the trees descend on them. Sharp rushes of wind, the shrill shrieking of something otherworldly. There's teeth and sharp whips and screaming and gunshots.

Then the swirling mass parts and the shrieks turn human, and Steve remembers the visceral fear of seeing the mass separate. One half rises, carrying a flailing, manic figure, and no no no Robin please no not Robin please no me take me instead you bastards not Robin please no Robin Robin-

Then the other half descends, whips circle his wrists, and the ground falls beneath him. There's screaming behind and before him as the earth fades away, and it's a cruel parallel, floating when all he wants to do is sink.

Robin's thrashing, Steve's thrashing. Their weapons have no use here, where teeth and whips maul them. Amid the pain, all Steve can do is plead to Robin, to forgive, to hope, to fight.

Robin finds the weak spot first. A quick succession of blind swings, a fierce thrash of flailing limbs. The bats scare, release her. But they're too high. Steve feels his throat go coarse as he watches Robin crash into the dead forest below, unable to differentiate the snapping between bark and bone.

Steve finds it in him to copy the act, do the same. And somehow, it works. Somehow, he's weightless.

There's a fierce pressure and the first snap he remembers feeling both on and within his skin-

And Steve wakes up.

It's not sudden, it's gradual. He feels the pains within him slowly throb to life, rousing him from sleep like an anchor rising from the sea. His left hand feels thick, and there's a burning poker laying across his forehead. His jaw feels wrong, and his eye stings and throbs.

His other senses slowly begin to return as well. He's laying down, his head tilted to his left, a bit cramped in the space as something presses around his shoulders. The material he's on isn't very comfortable either, some parts stabbing into his back, and there's a crinkling sound every time he breathes. He hears the faint rippling of water, and somewhere out there, it rushes fast and hard.

It's hell to even think of doing it, but as Steve returns to reality, his instincts rise to the surface, and he knows he has to get up soon. So he opens his eyes. He fights the involuntary tears, wincing as the stinging worsens, then wincing further when his face crumbles in the looping pain.

Finally, he can see a little. Where he is, it's thankfully pretty dark, with only a faint golden glow illuminating the area around him. His eyes strain to see through the darkness past the range of the light-

And then Steve notices where he is. A boathouse. The boathouse. The same one from a night that feels like a lifetime ago, rather than a few weeks. The start of their worst journey, the beginning of a friendship that would grow just to rot into a sour mess of guilt and loneliness.

He's laying within the same boat too...

His eyes focus on some motion across from him. A table covered in a lump of tarps and ratty cloths, and atop it sleeps a figure. Her face is scrunched up in pain, a patch of bloody fabric covering her cheek. One leg has been removed of all clothes, the ankle wrapped and foot elevated. Steve knows her, and instinct briefly overpowers everything else.

"Robs?-" Steve cracks out, his voice sore and rough. His body tries to rise, moving habitually, and he barely rises onto his elbows before the world pounces on him again. It's so strong and he's so weak that he can't move more than the closing of his eyes and the falling of his chin to his chest, can't make a sound louder than a whimper.

Suddenly there's a noise, there's movement beside him. The light glows just a tough brighter, and there's a base warmth suddenly pulsing through his chest.

It's a person, shushing him. Their hand is resting softly on his back, simultaneously supporting him and urging him down.

"Please, stay. It is better for you to rest."

The voice speaks softer than Steve can remember, but he still knows it. It's monotone, sounds ghostly, faint, quiet in a way that has nothing to do with volume, but it's still familiar. Still brings the memories around Steve right into the present, takes him back to that corpse, makes the presence around him feel more melancholic than scary.

Which is funnily enough, even more terrifying.

Steve can't move, can't pull his sight up to face what can't be reality.

"Apologies for the location. We cannot stray too far from the Gates."

The monotone changes to sound almost apologetic, more real, more like what Steve has been craving. It's what finally makes him cave, to turn his eyes to face the impossible.

Who he sees, what he sees, both crushes and rises his hope. Because past everything before him - the inhuman glow, the calm, plain expression - he finds exactly what he's been fighting for.

"Eddie...?" Steve pleads.

The blank face falls, just slightly. Like it's guilty.

"I'm sorry. No. Not quite."

(cleaner version below)

[bookwormbynight]

Lawlight yuri at the end of the Yotsuba Arc IS "Good Luck Babe" by Chappell Roan but instead of a break up it's murder

[antirepurp]

maria who loved gerald when she was younger but grew bitter with him during her days on the ark. maria who used to spend time with the other kids on ark before their presence started to frustrate and annoy her. maria who had spent more time lying by the time of her death than speaking any truths. maria who stole anything from pens to an actual gun without anyone noticing let alone suspecting her when things went missing, because she was such a nice girl. maria who hung out with gerald's freak creation to an alarming degree, but no one really had it in them to stop her either. maria who only exposed her heart to shadow. shadow who ingrained that heart into himself, because his sister was to coolest person in the world to him. maria whose image gets twisted by those who speak of her so they can use her legacy for their own gain. shadow who is the only true mirror of her that remains. et cetera

[demigod-of-the-agni]

A little special something for something even more special. Hint: it's about love and fears and birthdays and new beginnings

(@/marvel hire me <3)

[chocostrwberry]

Okay, who is Chloé's mom? I wrote a fic where she had a different mom too, and I am curious.

Probably another actress/coworker! Her father and Audrey paid the woman to keep quiet. They even faked Audrey’s pregnancy so the press wouldn’t find out about the affair, but Audrey had despised Chloe ever since, and even had Zoe when she travelled to the United States as revenge towards the mayor.

[seriousturd]

Happy Pride to that chase scene

[lookbluesoup]

So while I get that Gridanians live under these.... essentially toddler-gods who can afflict the entire territory with horrible plague, who will severely punish well-intentioned children that were manipulated by adults instead of the adult, and can't communicate their desires clearly, which leads the community to adopt a lot of hostility to change, paranoia, hate and even violence toward outsiders, etc...

Unless there's more explanation for this I haven't found? I know I'm not 100% up to speed on everything Gridania, especially pre-ARR....

Keepers of the Moon were living in the Black Shroud outside of Gridanian authority, for generations, presumably not being laserbeamed out of existence. There would have been a lot going on outside of the Seedseer's effective reach, and there aren't Moonkeeper Padjal to make up the gap there, only Hyur get to be Padjal.

Miqo'te are described as traditionally being far more in tune with nature and eschewing things like major city developments and whatnot. They're predators, yes, but predators have a place and function in the natural balance of the world.

"Beast Tribes" are a made up word from Ul'dah to protect trade monopolies in Thanalan, and Miqo'te could easily have ended up on the wrong side of that label if the rich elites had wanted them barred from the city. Historically, they're a lot more "feral" than a lot of the other spoken races.

I mention all this because it's unlikely the Elementals divide people into Beast Tribes and Human Races. Sylph's aren't being deleted by the Elementals, either, despite certainly having no inclination to live like the Gridanians do and being fairly mischievous.

My point being... I wonder if maybe the Gridanians kind of brought the Greenwrath on themselves. A lot of the time. The same way that some IRL religious institutions preach hate in the name of a deity and stir paranoia and fear of eternal condemnation. They create sins where there didn't need to be... Justifying division and destruction and isolation out of fear (and thus a need for control), and actually creating their own problems.

Elementals might not care about a lot of the stuff Gridania does, its clear a few times when something bad happens to someone, even just getting sick, panic strikes that the Elementals are behind it and people act irrationally out of fear, like the IRL Salem Witch Trials.

If you look at places like Haukke Manor... a country living in balance with nature does not need massive monuments to vanity like that. And there's apparently a whole quarter devoted to mansions for nobility in Gridania (which the npc says we're not allowed to visit.) Why do you have that. Why do you think that promotes peace with the natural world.

There's Wood Wailers who talk about wanting to kill Moonkeepers on sight, just in case they're "poachers." That's sort of like killing wolves because they're predators. Outside of some genuine bad apples, though, a lot of what seems to drive actual Moonkeeper poachers AND Duskwight Elezen to banditry is a straight up need to survive. Gridania's essential demand that they have dictatorial rights over management of the forest leads them to disrupt these group's lives, sometimes with exceptional cruelty.

I know that "central authority" is kind of... not super really a thing for Gridania, power is pretty divided up and a lot of it seems to run on an honor system. But that seems to have led to a lot of Process Loss and enabled a lot of prejudice and abuse to run rampant. Especially now that the Elementals are weaker than pre-Calamity.

I guess basically I wonder if the reason Sylphs and traditional Moonkeeper clans managed to survive out there was because, unlike Gridania, they don't have social systems built from the ground up on fear and condemnation. They're not constantly LOOKING for reasons to think the Elementals hate them and someone to blame for it.

They just live "natural" lives, that aren't inherently dangerous to the overall balance of the forest ecosystem, and they don't have an entire religious/government body dedicated to trying to interpret vague impressions from the Elementals (this is a HORRIBLE system of government and EXTREMELY susceptible to personal prejudices/bias), so these non-Gridanians run into conflict with the Elementals far less often.

i.e. Moonkeeper kills a rabbit, uses the meat, skin, and bones, is behaving like a hunter, Elementals don't care. VERSUS Gridanian kills a rabbit, uses it the same way, but then a villager gets sick and their friends panic and they turn into a mob and punish the Gridanian, Elementals didn't care but now they're a little pissy bc you're disrupting the forest with your insanity.

Basically... Gridania is the real affront to the Elementals, their very infrastructure and their culture of micromanaging the forest and constantly looking for scapegoats, kind of flies in the face of actually living in balance with nature. The Elementals aren't omnipotent or a unified group, and seem to struggle to understand human minds anyway, so they're trying to work with this city-state and have established some kind of partnership, but Gridania is really its own worst enemy.

[lorelune]

"dutiful knot" PLS LORE PLS GO INTO DETAIL Im On My Knees

orz

just like that

regarding alpha jing yuan :3c

he would simply be sooo attentive to a mate (once he takes the time to court you. which would be a long game of speaking in circles to a man who could have anyone he wants really, but chooses to romance YOU which is. Meow.)

he'd also be!!! maybe a little shameless. indulgent. scents you a little TOO much despite anyone and everyone on the luofu knowing you're a pair. gives you plenty of what would be considered courting gifts, despite already having a claiming bite on your neck.

[fraternum-momentum]

how i look drawing some guy once and planning to never draw them again

[ask-thearchivists]

how could you gloss over that? I wanna see that interesting I wanna here more about the different family’s!!

The Compelor: Hmph, well, it is no fun being cryptic when you already know what I am being cryptic about.

The Compelor: We belong to the Moon Family, which you can tell by our Phases. Our hair is typically white, but sometimes red, and most rarely blue, like once in a blue moon, eh heh heh. Our freckles correspond to either craters on a moon or stars in a sky, depending on which part of the marking they reside. We are mid-range in height.

The Compelor: Sun Family Collectors tend to be the largest of us all, and their bodies are covered in freckles, which they call "sun spots". Moons have a singular curved lines for our body spots, but Suns have multiple bumps along the edge, like a fluffy cloud. Their hair tends to be wild and large, like the corona of a star.

The Compelor: It has been so long since I was told about them, so the details are fuzzy, but I believe the Planet Family are the second largest of us on average. Their body spots are more frequent in occurrence, and can even cover half of their bodies, and the edges have a clean curve like ours do, but with multiple stripes of them, usually two or three. They also always have physical rings as part of their bodies, which are suspended around their head, neck, waist, or hips. It is never around a single arm or leg because it is tied to a center of gravity.

The Compelor: Comet Family Collectors are the second smallest, and are usually more thin, with tails, and long hair that they never cut. They were the fastest fliers. Their body spots have a point on them, and they have comet markings on their faces. Father always spoke of them with contempt, but he never said why.

The Compelor: And finally there is the Star Family, who were consistently the smallest. Their body spots have five points, and they have a star or two on their face. Like Moons, their skin has a representation of their Family, and a representation of space or the night sky, though in their case, it looks more like Charmer. Mostly void, partially stars. They also have freckles, solely representing stars in this case.

[crow-caller]

If I can't be mentally ill on the mentally ill site what else am I gonna do. Huh

[tequiilasunriise]

In terms of Wenclair nicknames, I believe in ‘Enid using Willa’ supremacy and φεγγάρι μου (‘my moon’ in Greek) is especially beloved to me, but I also love little shit Enid who calls Wednesday any day of the week EXCEPT Wednesday (“Hey, Monday!” “What do you think about this Sabbath?” “Oh thank god you’re here Friday”) and it annoys her favorite murder goth to NO END but slowly said murder goth becomes endeared by her roomate’s antics as feelings start to tumble and bloom away. Besides ‘my moon’, I can also see her calling Wednesday ‘silly raven’ in Greek.

Meanwhile, Wednesday has this wholeass evolution from shit like “mutt” to way softer nicknames because Gomezifcation™️ is a powerful thing. She starts to pine and internally call Enid her Alectrona (a greek goddness of the Sun, known for sunrise or ‘waking from slumber’, a perfect combo of how Enid brings light to Wednesday as well as her inner wolf finally waking up), but slowly she starts using it out loud along with “mi sol” (‘my sun’, Spanish), “mon petit chiot” (‘my little pup’, French), and “la mia vita” (‘my life’, Italian). Enid melts everytime without fail and stutters in Greek and honestly? Who could blame her when Wednesday has that passionately lovestruck shine in her eyes as adoration drips from devout lips.

[way2gosuperrstarr]

watch my body disintegrate into a pile of ash like a cartoon character who just got struck by a lightning bolt (JOINT PAIN JOINT PAIN JOINT PAIN JOINT PAIN) (just got off work)