#the elementalists imagine
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stanathanxoox · 1 year ago
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A leaf in your hair
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gif not mine
“You have a leaf in your hair.” - Beckett x reader (MC)
You were walking through the forest with your friends, back towards campus after Aster had shown you her little brothers and sisters and how they celebrated their birthday in the forest. You pause to take a look at one of the flowers, bright and glowing, you remember Beckett telling you about this particular flower not too long ago and you smile, having noticed that it was now in full bloom. You turn around and see Beckett standing behind you, a small smile on his face.
“What are you doing?” you ask and he shrugs, taking a step towards you as he reaches up and says
“You have a leaf in your hair” you crack a smile and tease him
“Surely that isn’t the reason you are here Beckett?” 
“Ah right, well I wanted to spend more time with you” he says sheepishly. You chuckle
“It’s alright Beckett, I’m just teasing. It’s nice to know that you like to spend time with me, your little old girlfriend” you say and he beams leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead and then on your lips
“Of course I do Y/N. More than anything” he says and you beam you knew he was telling the truth. You intertwine your fingers together and make your way along the path following your friends
Tag List: @tiva-jenry-caskett-rizzles-densi​, @jimmybpride​, @dressed-up-just-like-z1ggy​, @nikkiwierden​, @samchelforever007​, @kirkspockbones​, @xoncisxncislaxncisnolaox​, @lasalle-pride-sebastian-love​, @haliannej​, @brooklyn-99-amyxjake​​, @mizzezm​, @genius2050​, @twilight-twihard​, @cullencoven2019​, @wxlfgirlx​, @luciferxchloeislove​, @drethanramsey-ismybabe​, @sawyer-oakley-is-mighty-fine​, @loverofoneshots​, @aelin-thefirebreathingbitchqueen​​
Tag List for Pixelberry fics: @cordoniaqueensworld​, @aworldoffandoms​, @desiree—1986​
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the-six-official · 5 months ago
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commander week day 2: profession
the weaverrr
content warnings: some vague spoilers for EoD
note: weave self has crazy lore implications if you squint hard enough 👍 this post explains it better than i can. also the mantra he says is from the earth spear etching skill… i felt like it was fitting for the situation 
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The chaos of the battlefield moved in slow-motion as Lazarus narrowed his focus to a white-hot point in front of him. He breathed deeply and shut his eyes, eliminating the distractions of the battle and tapping into the primordial energies of the world. He had learned through his Weaver training that everything was constantly in motion. The forces of the world cycled like lifeblood through Tyria, swirling into a primordial chaos that would surely destroy those that could not move with it.
Fire.
“Moving mountains is as simple as thinking,” Lazarus began with a barely audible whisper, carefully walking himself through the mantra. With practiced precision he pressed his hands together, drawing out a strand of fire energy that started to furiously orbit around him. Casting the spell felt like following in a dance; though he continued to fight as normal, his will took a backseat as he switched his focus to the next element. 
Water.
The two opposing elements began to twist and turn, melding into one. His ears rang as he danced through the battlefield, delicately balancing his focus between the increasingly volatile elements and his strikes. 
“It’s simple. Adapt. Thrive. Crumble.”
The element’s power washed over him and he felt the gentlest tug of chaos at the fringes of his consciousness. The boundaries between the two began to break down as he continued.
Air.
“All things come back to me.”
To weave was to unwind the context between the building blocks that made reality possible. Lazarus kept a sturdy grip on the chaos magic he cultivated as the wind whipped around him, moving through carefully practiced stances to keep the elemental energies in balance. So delicate, yet so strong. Nothing from everything. The Void.
Earth.
The chaos magic gnawed at the edges of his psyche and buzzed in his ears like a rising crescendo as the unfiltered energies coalesced into Void magic. Lazarus allowed his mind to scatter as he wove himself into the chaos around him. It was like a veil was lifted from in front of his eyes; the All was as clear as ever, and the patterns of the world made themselves clear to him. 
“If all things have limits, where are mine?”
The balance he worked to maintain had been thrown to the wayside, and the Void he had cultivated struggled towards entropy. Had he not been careful, he would have lost himself to its potent grip.
Unravel.
With practiced calm he threw his hands down and unleashed the singularity of Void magic. Light and shadow alike burst out from around him, unwinding the tethers of gravity around his foes. Void magic surged around them as they levitated, torn from the familiar weight of gravity. Lazarus quickly returned to the rhythm of combat as his opponents crashed to the ground, paralyzed by the chaos magic he was wielding mere moments ago.
Lazarus sheathed his sword and stepped over his incapacitated foes. His mind walked in circles from one thought to the next, still reeling from the primordial chaos that threatened to tear it apart. He counted along to the rhythm of the world as it finally settled.
It was time to keep moving. 
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soraka-in-warhammer40k · 2 months ago
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If you ever thought that Warhammer 40k was an expensive hobby, might I interest you in renting some pixels in a 15 year old game for a singular character only obtainable through a gacha-mechanic with odds so low you need max. pulls 99% of the time, setting the price for that to 250 bucks?
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radical-ghostface · 11 months ago
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Okay, so I'm not sure how many people in the Hogwarts Legacy fandom also indulge in an app called Choices (most specifically The Elementalists) but to those of you who are familiar, am I the only person who noticed huge similarities between Beckett Harrington and Ominis Gaunt?
They even LOOK the damn same istg
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Tell me this isn't some shit Ominis would say 💀
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lady-quen · 2 months ago
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Numen, "Love" of Jormag, the scion of Ice. Also known as "The One Who Opens the Door". (He/They)
I don't have their norn design (nor name) yet, but imagine the most innocent blonde boy of short stature with striking blue eyes and the softest smile :) Character backstory below cut! Pspspspsing at all angst hound Commanders out there!!
An orphan rescued from an abandoned village in the Deep Shiverpeaks. Though losing entire settlements to the savage Sons of Svanir was a common occurence, there were no signs of attack, no blood, no slaughter, it just seemed like the inhabitants simply got up and left merely moments before a norn patrol arrived to rest at the local inn. Doors and windows were open, rendering interiors freezing.
The child, naturally, had no known name and was of an unsettlingly pale complexion. He was taken in by the warriors and brought to Hoelbrak, where he grew up more or less normally.
Though he did fit in, he was frail and unfit to pursue his legend, or even be a hunter, despite clearly wanting to. Instead, he was an elementalist with the rare affinity for ice, something the elders theorized to be a result of the near death experience in his infancy.
The boy joins the Commander's party relatively early on, perhaps as an adoptive younger sibling/childhood friend to Braham, and makes himself useful with his unique magic. It's during S3 that things begin to get weird, with Jormag stirring from slumber leading the young man to run off as though following a silent call, before eventually returning seemingly with no memory of whatever happened.
During IBS, he starts acting even weirder, with people mysteriously going missing when left alone with him, as though spirited away. The Commander and Braham confront him, wishing to get to the bottom of what's happening to their friend, only for the reveal to happen.
He was never a norn, but the shapeshifter Numen, the One Who Opens the Door. Every cycle this happens, the scion's memory is wiped and they're found and taken in by the living races, they come to be loved, grow into an identity, only for that love to become everyone's downfall. In Jormag's own words,
"You'll sleep now, and be their child. But you will always wake, and be my child first."
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The character could go a traditional villainous betrayal route or (maybe preferably) an "I never wanted this but I can't refuse my creator" tragic route. Two personalities fighting inside, the servant of the Ice Dragon and the personality developed during his time in Hoelbrak and then, with the party. But most importantly, the Commander has to make a choice between saving many people via slaying Numen during a Dragon Response mission or trying to save him, in whatever way they might devise.
Naturally, if they do slay him, Jormag's only got one thing to say: "I see you're more than willing to discard love... if it only aligns with your heroic ideals. Weighing lives on a scale when patience cannot be afforded. Well, no matter. Raven taught you well. I wonder just how easily you could do the same to Aurene?"
"Tell me, o Commander of Tyria, what's worth more to you? The world, or her?"
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lizzaneia-elizalde · 1 year ago
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Male Yandere Adventurer x Female Magical Maiden Reader
Just imagine a man who’s on an adventure or is like a hunter or something, coming across a magical maiden bathing in a body of water, and he just has to make her his
I was inspired by all those beautiful water nymph/maiden oil paintings that I thought this would be a cool concept if reader darling was the magical one for a change. Or what if yandere also secretly had some magic blood in him!?
Thanks!!! 💝
Yandere! Male! Hero! Isekai'ed Adventurer x Fem! Elementalist mage! Reader
💝 ANON! I love this request so much because I love worldbuilding. Making your own lore to magical worlds is just-- ack!
This time, this world will be the same as Yan! Villain's world. Hope you don't mind me putting more elements to the fic.
Also, my ask box is going to be open again! Finally. Lol. :3
Yan! Isekai'ed Adventurer's name: Aeron
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A great Adventurer. Someone who defeated the Demon King by his own hands without any help.
From a nobody to the Hero everyone looked up to, Aeron shot up through the ranks of the Empire.
Charismatic, brave, strong, and determined, Aeron was somebody people underestimated before.
After all, he just suddenly appeared one day. In the middle of the throne room, nonetheless.
Begging for his life, Aeron pleaded the Emperor to not put him in jail for trespassing the palace. So, with the Emperor looking to take advantage of this man, he assigned Aeron to kill the Demon King by himself.
"Isn't that suicide?"
Yes, it was.
But Aeron is desperate. So he agreed to the quest and set off with only a few copper coins, a sword, bow, shield, stale bread, and the clothes on his back.
He's legitimately sent to die.
Only a human. Without any powers, nor he didn't go to the gym that much to have the physical prowess to even have a chance of fighting back.
He was so scared. So small, so powerless in a world filled with unknown magic that he didn't encounter back in earth at all.
He's someone who hopped from party to party, as people only saw him as fodder, or they just scammed him of free labor. Then abandoned once they realized he's off to kill the Demon King.
He tried so hard.
So hard for people to take him seriously.
But all he received was ridicule, harsh words, and spits or beatings for the people who went too far.
Humans, all they cared about are themselves and nobody else.
Selfish, hateful, and evil.
Are they sure the Demon King is the evil one and not them?
His body screamed in pain everyday as he hiked alone and taken advantage of. His wounds severe, his leg cut off. He tried so hard to be so understanding, but what is there to understand of hearts so filled with vile intentions?
Revenge, he was fueled with it.
He wants to see blood, he wants to see them suffering for the suffering he got. Tenfold.
Hero? He was no hero as he cut off the head of the Demon King who was innocent, and didn't do anything wrong.
Does he feel bad?
He feels too bad for himself to feel bad for others.
Waving the head of the Demon King, he trudges back to the Palace. Throwing the head at the feet of the fearful Emperor. Aeron sighs, knowing everything is finally going to his direction as the Emperor grants him Marquess status, after kicking the previous Marquess for corruption.
As the hero, he was regarded as a celebrity. Everyone loved him, and everyone revered him. Those who wronged him before though, now boasts of being his ex-party mates, and that they were the best of friends. Singing praises as if they didn't sling hurtful words to his way before.
Let's just say, they ended up dead the next day for even trying to say those words.
There's only one person who genuinely helped Aeron.
A mage, living alone in the woods on the foot of the Demon King's castle. She's somewhat of an enigma, capable of holding off monsters from trying to invade the Empire, especially the Demon King himself. Sure, the King is innocent, but only because he was not successful in invading the Empire yet due to her.
And she was you.
Truthfully, you were only a bored, overpowered mage who decided to protect the Empire one day. You wield all the main elements in a precision that nobody has topped off before, and sub-elementals in a way that other master wizards only dream of wielding.
OP, sure, but you didn't care about other people's feelings.
So, how did Aeron meet you?
On the way to the top of the castle, he had to take a bath due to being rancid. Showered with monsters' blood left and right, he hadn't had a bath for so long too, focused on killing the Demon King and nothing more. He didn't even care about his leg being gone as he hopped towards the stream.
Then, he saw you. Beautiful, ethereal you.
Bathing under the moonlight, the water cascaded down your skin and onto your curves, and down to the stream once more. Your hair, wet, shines as if stars sparkled within them.
Then your eyes. Deep, sharp, bored.
He was captivated.
"Who are you?" You asked, not even looking at him as you continued to wield the stream's water to make a pseudo shower. "Do not look at me like that, lecher."
Aeron froze, embarassed.
"Ah no, I just... Want to take a bath too when I saw you."
Your gaze looked at him.
"I can see that you really need a bath."
Aeron flushed red once more.
You cracked your neck before standing up. Aeron's eyes followed your every movement as you went up to him.
He could feel his heart beat increase in speed.
Then, feeling an itch on his leg stump, his eyes widened as a grotesque yet mesmerizing event happened. His leg is reforming once more.
"How did you..." He flexed his leg, in awe.
"Take a bath, you smell bad." You dismissed him before going away.
"Your name! Miss..." He yells, eyes erratic.
"Y/N. See you around, future hero."
And you left with a bag of gold, a mana infused sword, bow with mana arrows, and a shield made of obsidian.
The complete opposite of the Emperor.
His heart raced once more as tears fell from his eyes.
The first act of kindness he received in this world.
He vowed to repay you, so he took a bath, and headed straight to the Demon King to fight.
Now, he's here to pay back the kindness you gave him.
And he just hopes you recognize the man in front of you.
Or else.
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After helping the Duke Eros in the war and earning another victory in his belt, Aeron rested his body in his chateau once more.
He placed his arm over his eyes, sighing deeply.
little dancing black sprites danced all around him as the sun filtered through the arched windows. These sprites started following him after he defeated the Demon King, and now he wields them like how a magic user does. He's still completely magic-less, but thanks to the sprites, he got to wield magic.
It was sunset, and Aeron just got back from reporting to the Emperor who gloated about the fact that this Empire just won another war.
"That freak." He muttered.
The current Emperor, who just succeeded the previous Emperor who mysteriously died with black sprites latched on his body, was a warfreak who wanted to spread his territory for fun, and spills bloodshed for the thrill of it. He's just the same age as Eros and Aeron, but god is he a crazy motherfucker.
Aeron stood up, letting the sprites dance around his palm as he casted magic on his hand. The sprite absorbed into his skin, making his arm pitch black with his veins dying the dark color. Creeping up to his arm.
"Portal."
The spatial frame cracked, forming a what looked like a broken glass opening.
It opens to the forest, the foot of the Demon King's castle.
His heart rate picked up once more.
He stepped forward, entering into the portal and being teleported into the forest.
One thing he got from the war he was forced to join is a ring with a jewel the same color as your eyes. One with an intricate carving and a unique design. As if veins popped out of the jewel, which was the centerpiece. It's embedded with fae magic that Aeron hopes is useful for you.
His steps heavy, the crunch of the leaves under you filled his ears. He's quiet, even his breathing light and seemingly not there. His time in the war, and fighting different beasts after the Demon King trained his body to perfection.
He stopped in front of the stream once more, a sense of dejavu knocked into him as he watched you bath once more there.
The moonlight filtered through the much bigger trees and into you below. You were much more magnificent than he remembers.
He gulped, itching to touch you, kiss you, feel you.
He felt pent up. But he knows that he should stop himself.
"*ehem*, my lady." He said, back straight and chest out. His eyes sparkling with warmth. "Remember me?"
You, startled as you didn't feel a presence, whipped your body towards him. A stark contrast to how you reacted before.
But, he felt his stomach drop when you looked at him all confused.
"Who are you?"
He suddenly clammed up.
Sweat started to riddle his face, eyes wide with betrayal.
This...
"I'm the person you helped before, my lady. The one without a leg?"
You hummed.
"I don't really recognize you..."
He started to breath heavily and shakily. His eyes, trembling, he tried to find signs of your form if you were joking.
But no, you were serious.
He took a step forward, his lips trying to say something. Anything.
You shrugged at his reaction.
"I help a lot of people, really. So I don't recognize you. Have I helped you? I assume I did, as you said."
But all he could utter was a helpless, silent cry.
This was worse than being exploited.
The only person who was nice to him when he got isekai'ed into this godforsaken world forgot him.
And you helped other people?
Not just him?
Something unknown bubbled deep into his stomach painfully. It felt like it was wrenching into a boulder he can't seem to lift away.
"My Lady... I..." His mouth felt dry.
You shrugged, snapping your fingers and making you instantly dry after you went up to the shore.
Wearing your clothes, you waved to him before going away once more.
Aeron felt sick to his stomach as he keeled over.
He never cried.
He refused to cry for the people who wronged him.
But now, tears flowed down from his eyes as he started to go under a panic attack.
"My Lady... Why... Why don't you remember me..." He sobbed out, his throat painfully clawing out cries of desperation. The tears soaked his cheeks but he didn't care. "You were so nice to me... Why?"
The fantasy he built inside your mind was now broken completely. He thought you will remember him. He didn't consider that you won't remember him.
He felt so lost.
What's all this for?
What is he fighting for?
When his lady doesn't even remember him?
He gripped the grass beneath him. A strangled cry finally gargling out of his mouth.
Why did he feel so attached to you?
Just because you were the nicest to him?
So what? You chose to be nice in this place filled with vile people.
He just wished you didn't.
He just wished you left him alone, maybe even be rude to him like others did if you would just forget him.
But no, you used your magic on him. A pathetic alien in this grotesque world filled with magic and discrimination.
He just wished he would die then and there.
As negative thoughts filled him, the darkness around him seeped into his legs and arms. Like the sprites, black veins crept around his limbs painfully and into his neck.
What is a hero?
His sclera turned black, his breathing became shorter and shorter.
Does a hero need to be always good?
Something poured inside him, making him gargle in pain. Drool dripped down his chin as he snapped out of it. He writhed in pain from the sudden influx of mana inside his body.
Why was he sent to this goddamn world in the first place?
He curled his toes, his body becoming rigid. Like a leech sprinkled with salt, he painfully clawed at his face as he moved around the place. His heart pounding fast, his mind pulsing all over the place.
Is the purpose of him being isekai'ed here is to save the world?
He hacked up blood, keeling over. The boulder in his stomach now a fiery acid he wished to dispel from his body. He vomits out blood again, but it was pitch black.
But if he was destined to be a hero, why is he suffering so much?
He wants the pain to be gone, he wants it off. He wants to ask for your help, to scream for your name to alleviate his pain like you did before. But no sound came from his mouth. Only black and purple smoke as his body underwent changes he never thought would happen.
Please, will you help this poor man?
After an hour, he shakily stood up. He felt that his senses got more sensitive, tenfold. He can feel every beast's emotion. He can feel overwhelming power inside him, same as authority.
After all, you were the light to his world.
And, as hundreds of beasts surround him, a sprite descended from above and placed a crown on his head. The monsters bowed to him. He numbly stood there, looking so disheveled but so ominous as he took a deep sigh.
Give this Demon King a chance, yes?
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You flipped through your mythology book, lazily drinking tea.
You just finished eating dinner, and is now lounging at the roof of your treehouse. Intaking the mana into your body slowly, you had a relaxed form as you yawned from tiredness.
Then you felt it.
The sudden influx of demonic power converging into one place.
Your body shivered, goosebumps riddling your skin.
Coincidentally, the page you stopped on had the ritual of birthing the new Demon King.
After defeating the previous Demon King, a person experiencing the worst grief there is, someone who only received harshness and no kindness in his life, will be able to become the Demon King if a trigger happened. May it be betrayal of feelings, or if one act of kindness inside his unfortunate life suddenly turned sour. Creating the Ultimate Grief, the catalyst of the demonic power to surge inside that person.
Will you run away, or investigate, or stay?
You froze, not knowing what to do.
The only person inside the forest is the Empire's Hero earlier, who introduced himself to you.
What happened?
Is this related to you?
But you seriously don't remember him.
Or did you, and just don't want to acknowledge it by some reason?
Your trembling hand reached for your bag and hastily packed up your stuff. The previous Demon King was weak, somebody who lived for so long that his negative Demonic Powers were slowly depleting.
And the birth of a new Demon King is never a good sign.
This is one of the few times you cursed yourself for not learning how to do teleportation.
Two bags. Not enough but will do for now.
You need to warn the Empire.
"AH!"
As you grabbed the bags and tried to get out of your house, you stopped in your tracks when black veins crept on the floorboards, trying to reach your legs.
Heart rate picking up, you got up the couch.
You just knew that if these veins reached you, you are a gonner.
You clutched your bag, hearing a sorrowful moan outside the treehouse.
"My Lady... Why don't you recognize me?"
You're powerless against a newly awakened Demon King.
You can't escape him.
"You're my light, why did you forget me..."
Your walls creaked and moaned under the intense pressure Aeron was emitting. As if they were yelling at you for forgetting him.
"Was it because I was scrawny and dirty back then?"
He continued to wail outside of the treehouse. You tried casting light magic and dark magic, but they didn't do jackshit on the veins. They continued to try and wrap around your legs.
"My lady... Should I bathe myself in blood for you to recognize me?!"
Powerful wind blew away your front door as you screamed in terror.
Aeron stood on the archway, eyes bloodshot and crazy as his handsome visage was filled with grief, longing, love, anger, sadness...
"You're the same as them my lady..."
You searched his face, trying to recognize him. Your body was struggling to stay standing from the amount of pressure being pressed on your body.
Wait, something's coming in your mind.
As an attempt to speed up your memory, you hit your head with the heel of your palm. In a state of panic of wanting to remember immediately.
The floorboards groaned under his weight as Aeron stepped forward to you.
"Remember me, my lady. Please." Dark tears fell on his cheeks. "Please..."
"Ah! You... The man with the bloodiest stench, with the leg stump that I fixed!"
You spoke so fast that Aeron almost didn't catch it.
The wind stopped howling.
"You... You remembered me..." Aeron laughed, his eyes wide with manic desperation. "Oh my god, you do..."
Aeron slumped down, hugging your waist as he wept.
"My lady, you're too much! You should have told me that you remember me sooner!" He laughed lightly, holding your hand as he buried his face on your stomach.
The sudden shift in mood sent you into a harsh whiplash.
"I-I'm sorry." You whispered, not getting this man in front of you at all.
"I forgive you." He whispered, hands wrapped around you tight.
He feels so good now. No more grief, no more crying.
He just knows you remember him now. Nobody matters but you, and your recognition of him.
"My Lady, i'm here to propose." He suddenly said, making your blood run cold.
And, as he separated himself from you, he kneeled down on both knees, as if pleading you to say yes.
This man, the greatest hero of the Empire, was now kneeling in front of you. Awakened as a Demon King from the grief you caused. His eyes hooded, dripping with overwhelming affection for you.
What have you done?
You've condemned the Empire, this world to a Demon King once more.
"My life here in this Empire was the worst. Everyone hated me, took advantage of me, stole from me, abused me in every way possible. I lost hope, and was driven with revenge. But you, my lady. You showed me kindness when no one did, and I knew you are my soulmate." He confessed passionately, his voice dripping honey sweet with delusional feelings for you. "So, be my wife, my marchioness, my queen..."
You've got the Demon King and the Greatest Hero wrapped around your finger.
Be proud.
And, as you nodded hesitantly, he slipped in the ring he was fidgeting with earlier.
You flinched, feeling it tighten around your digit. Spikes digging slightly, making sure you cannot take it off of you no matter what.
You want to scream at him for this absurd ring, but the ominous smile he had made you clam up.
You are his salvation, and he would die without you.
So chin up, and hold onto the leash tight,
You won't know when this rabid dog will bite the hand that feeds him.
And you don't intend to fuck around and find out.
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storyofmychoices · 11 months ago
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Tuneless Wonders
[Beckett Harrington x Emma Carlyle Masterlist] 
Pairing: Beckett Harrington x Emma Carlyle (F!MC) Book: The Elementalists Word Count: >600 Rating/Warnings: general, no warnings, all the fluff Prompts: @choicesjanuary2024 aurora (borealis); @choicesficwriterscreations
Synopsis: Emma shows Beckett that the tuneless world has magic of its own.
It has been FAR too long since I've commissioned art of these two. So I am very excited to have been able to commission this piece by the ever talented ArtByAinna (IG) to kick off our TE @choicesbookclub
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The vibrant hues of the aurora borealis painted the sky in a mesmerizing dance of celestial colors. Beckett and Emma found themselves at a secluded spot, away from the prying eyes of their friends. The ethereal lights shimmered overhead, casting a magical glow upon the landscape.
“Didn’t I tell you?” Emma teased, lacing her fingers with his as she rested her head on his shoulder. “The tuneless world has its own magic.”
Beckett couldn’t help but be captivated by the enchanting display painting the sky. “Wow,” the only word he could manage slipped quietly from his lips, his gaze fixed on the celestial wonder above.
Emma’s eyes sparkled with a blend of awe and admiration. “Nature's magic is unparalleled. Earth has her own set of spells that she blesses us with."
A surge of appreciation for a magic he had never considered before washed over him. Beckett had read of this natural event in books, of course, but he never imagined them quite like this. In his readings, it was simple. It was science, just a bit of chemistry—an interaction of particles, solar wind, and the Earth’s magnetic field—nothing special. Yet, the reality of what he thought nothing of, now, left him breathless.
Emma’s words continued to resonate with him as he stood entranced. He couldn’t deny the magnificent enchantment surrounding them. He slowly breathed in the cold air, letting it fill his lungs, the moment overwhelming him in the best way. As he exhaled, Beckett attempted to let go of the complexities of magical academia he had spent his life mastering, allowing room for this new appreciation for the tuneless wonders he never would have understood without her.
“It’s breathtaking,” he whispered, his words of reverence drifting from his lips in wisps of warmth against the cold air.
Emma’s gaze met his cool, grey eyes, which shimmered with the colors of the heavens. “Perhaps nature’s magic is the truest form. No spells, no textbooks—just the raw, untamed beauty of the world. Maybe that’s where it all started. Maybe this and other examples of Earth’s magic is the origin of all other magick we know.”
“Thank you.” His fingers brushed tenderly across her cheek as he cradled her face.
“For what?” She smiled softly.
“For sharing this with me—” he began, his gaze drifting once more to the beautiful dance above them. "—for convincing me that there are wonders and magic I still don't understand—" His words were quieter now, “—and... for being smarter than me.”
“What was that?” Emma’s brow quirked with mischief. "I couldn’t quite hear you—"
“You heard me well enough.”
She considered it for a moment. “I think I heard you say I was smarter than you—the one and only, Beckett Harrington. Are you sure you’re feeling alright?” She rested the back of her hand against his forehead.
He shook his head. “You’re enjoying this too much.”
“Well, if you want me to stop, you know what you have to do.” She grabbed the lapel of his navy peacoat, pulling him closer, their noses brushing together.
His freckled cheeks flushed at her gesture. “You’re impossible.” Beckett’s words were lost as he closed the gap between them. As their lips met, the warmth of her kiss seeped deep into him, a radiant glow that warmed him inside and out, like the gentle embrace of the soothing sun on a cold winters day.
The celestial lights above bore witness to their kiss, a moment of pure magic that rivaled the magic of this world and the magick of their studies.
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I haven't written Beckett in... I honestly don't know how long 2, maybe 3??? years!?! I hope that our Book Club replay of TE will inspire some more Beckett and Emma stories. So far, I really only ever wrote them in my Detention Series.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy this!
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bri1234 · 9 months ago
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What song(s) do you relate to a Choices book survey results!
Hello! So it's been about a week and there are a few responses from the Google form I sent out! The form is attached at the bottom of all this so if you want to take it, you still can!
I will continue to update this if there are any more responses.
Also if you see your song on here but not the additional comment (if you left one) and would like it on here, just let me know and I'll add it!
So without further ado, let's jump right in!
Songs that relate to a Choices book (chosen by you guys!):
Across the Void
Remember Me as A Time of Day by Explosions in the Sky
Blades of Light & Shadow
Two by Sleeping at Last
Comment was "MC's deeply unhealthy desire to put everyone else's wellbeing first (book 2)."
Degenerates by I the Mighty
In My Head by Jacob Ryan Smith, Daniel Mertzlufft, Andrew Barth Feldman, & Joe Serafini
Comment was "Aerin and MC on Deadwood lake date (book 1)."
Falling by Write Out Loud, Ciara Renee, and Kat Sicilian
Die With A Smile by Bruno Mars and Lady Gaga
A Courtesan of Rome
I Survived a War by Mariami
Crimes of Passion
In My Blood Song by Joel Smallbone and The Cast Of Journey To Bethlehem
Comment was "I relate this song the Trystan Thorne, specifically Book 2 of CoP, wanting to be the son his parents and country are proud of while being himself."
Arpeggio by Alexandro
Perfect World by Twice
The Cursed Heart
Dream A Little Dream of Me by The Mamas & The Papas
Comment was "It reminds me of how Kieran and MC often would visit each others dreams at night (book 1)."
Power Over Me by Dermot Kennedy
Without You by Ursine Vulpine
Find You by Ruelle
Die For You by Postmodern Jukebox and Tatum Langley
Young and Beautiful by Lana Del Rey
Comment was “MC thinking about their mortality and how someday they won’t be young and beautiful.”
Los Ageless by St. Vincent
Comment was “Lustre’s theme song 😈”
Dirty Little Secrets
"Slut!" by Taylor Swift
Suburban Legends by Taylor Swift
The Elementalists
Hedwig's Theme by John Williams
Guinevere
Queen of Heart by Twice
Only Girl by Stephen Sanchez
Hot Couture
Choose Your Fighter by Ava Max
Immortal Desires
Boys Will Be Bugs by Cavetown
End (The Other Side) by Fit For A King
Scars & Lifelines by I Prevail
Death Is All Around by The Amity Affliction
The Death We Seek by Currents
Kindred
Still Don't Know My Name by Labrinth
In Hell I'll Be Good Company by The Dead South
Murder at Homecoming
no body, no crime by Taylor Swift
Nightbound
Songs from the Shadowhunter series: Dynasty , Hurricane, Making a Monster out of Me (Katherine McNamara) , This is the Hunt (Ruelle), Storm (Ruelle) , Bad Dream , Love to Hate You, I am Ember from Katherine McNamara , Hold On (from Chord Oversee) , Glass Slipper (Katherine McNamara) , Paralyzed (NF), Angel with a Shotgun (instead shotgun imagine crossbow) , Brother (Kodaline), Shadowhunter series Finale Song by Ruelle
Open Heart
Symphony of Skin by I The Mighty
Comment was "Romancing Bryce vibes"
Platinum
3 Minutes by Alexi Blue
Red Carpet Diaries
Why Should I? by Alexi Blue
Roommates With Benefits
You Give Love a Bad Name by Bon Jovi
The Royal Romance
Not Your Barbie Girl by Ava Max
Barbie Girl by Aqua
Loves Me Not by Kate Grahn & Will Jay
i wanna be your girlfriend by girl in red
Rules of Engagement
Hair by Little Mix
Surrender
Bad Habits by Ed Sheeran
Here's the Google form if anyone wants to take it! Thank you so much to those of you who have taken the time to do this!!!
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spiribia · 6 months ago
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i'm finally getting around to watching the preview videos for the upcoming land spear in guild wars 2 and i like how most other classes are fairly standard for what you'd imagine a person fighting with a spear to be like and for some reason when equipped with a pointed stick elementalists become this. and all of the comments section is like ELEMENTALIST NUMERO UNO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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choicesmc · 3 months ago
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How They Are
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banner: The Art of Love by Ron Hicks
MC: Rams Erndheart Book: The Elementalist WC: 600+ (i think, don’t quote me on that) Summary: Shreya is made of passion and fire, but even she has her doubts from time to time. Luckily, Rams knows just how to help.
tagging: @lover-also-fighter-also
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Co’s bed was still in couch-mode. Sometime past eight, co’d fallen asleep on cos book chair. Groaning, co lifted the open book from cos face, wiping spittle from the edges of cos lips. 
With a stretch, xe glanced at the analog clock on the other side of the room, conjuring a small fireball for light. 
It read 3:02. Probably AM. 
Uncurling from xir warm position, Rams lumbered towards xir bed fully intending to crash back to sleep on the couch. Or the floor. Xe was too sleepy to be picky right now. 
On zir way to zir bed, a faint sniffle caught zir ear. It was quiet, so quiet, Rams thought ze’d imagined it. Ze’d paused all movement, taking careful note of the sounds ze heard. 
Another sniffle. 
Ae was not imagining it. 
The clock on aer desk displayed the time. It was 3:02 AM. 
Yet, ae could hear sniffles from the other side of aer door. They were faint, as if the person making them was suppressing it. 
Shreya was the only person who could be in their shared reception room at 3 in the morning. 
But it was Saturday. A resting day for Shreya. She’d never gotten up before cos on a Saturday and ae usually didn’t get up this early either. 
Yet, here she was, crying and sniffling at a time Rams shouldn’t have heard her. 
As if she didn’t want Rams to hear her. 
Either way, the result was the same: co’s girlfriend was sniffling in their living room. Going to sleep while knowing that was impossible. It wasn’t even an option. 
Instead, crossing the room, Rams grabbed a chocolate bar, a small can of sparkling water, and two packs of the fancy trail-mix that Shreya liked. Carefully placing them on zir fanciest paper plates, Rams made xir way out the room.
The door barely creaked but still Shreya’s head darted up anyway. Changing from a small fireball to a small chain of fairy lights, Rams gave her a soft smile, “Can’t sleep?” 
The tear trails shone in the light and her eyes were red and puffy. Shreya shook her head. The action felt somewhere lacking when compared to her usual self. Rams responded in kind, silently sitting beside her and opening up one of the trail-mix packs. 
A couple seconds passed before Shreya reached out for the chocolate, slowly nibbling on a corner. 
A couple more sends passed, before she said anything, “Did I wake you up?” 
“I was already awake,” the lie rolled off Rams’ tongue, easy and comforting, “Got too invested in something I was reading, I just finished it.” 
Shreya nodded. 
“Could I lay on your lap?” Rams asked, casually filling up the silence, “I missed you yesterday.” 
This finally put a smile on Shreya’s face even if it wasn’t full just yet. “Come here,” she said, sitting straighter so Rams could lay cos head. 
Her hands gently tugged the kinky strands of xir hair, watching as the strands recoiled as soon as her fingers let go. Every so often, her nails scratched xir scalp, eliciting a pleased sound from Rams. 
“Why did you miss me?” Shreya eventually asked, voice soft, “I didn’t go anywhere.” 
“We weren’t together,” Rams shrugged, “Do I need any other reason?”
“Doesn’t it ever get tiring?” Shreya asked, hands pausing mid-action, “I’m always so much, all the time. Maybe you wish I could be more loll? Or less bossy? Or more graceful?”
Rams hummed, interlacing zir fingers over zir stomach. Keeping zir eyes trained on the ceiling above, purposefully avoiding Shreya’s beautiful brown eyes, Rams responded, “Do you wish I was more fiery? Or louder? Or less subdued?” 
Glancing towards her, ae continued, “Aren’t I such a drain on your energy?”
“That’s not the same!” Shreya frowned, “Being quiet is better.” 
A smile danced at Rams’ lips, “I actively enjoy organizing papers and planning incredibly complicated events. I think I could suck all the extroversion right out of someone if given enough time.” 
“But I love that about you,” Shreya replied, pleasant exasperation flooding her voice as she booped Rams’ nose, “and I get your point.”
“Are you certain?” Rams blinked, hand coming up to cup her cheek, “Are you sure you don’t want me to tell you exactly why Shreya Mistry is a downright delight to be around at all times of the day?” 
Her cheeks twitched, “I didn’t stop you.”
Laughing, co looked at her and smiled as ze started, “Your confidence is stunning, I find myself preening for praise whenever you’re around me. I can’t help it. You’re just so sure, so certain of yourself that I want to get noticed by you.” 
Reaching up to twirl a strand of her hair, ze continued, “This one is incredibly obvious but let’s say it anyway: you’re gorgeous. Your hair is so silky and all your outfits are incredibly well put-together –even on a bad day you have more coordination and artistry in your makeup that I could reasonably dream up.” 
Glancing at her, xe murmurered, “You’re passionate and you care about your family and you treasure your little sister so intensely that, sometimes, I wonder what it’d be like to be loved like that. I want to love you like that. I want you to know I love you like that. Knowing that sometimes you aren’t even sure I like you makes my heart hurt, love. It hurts.”
��Dammit Rams,” Shreya said, voice already wobbly, “I just stopped crying.” 
“I’m sorry, love,” Rams replied, kissing away a tear. 
“I thought you came here to make me feel better,” she whined, dabbing a handkerchief to her eye, “you’re so lucky you’re cute!”
“I didn’t– It was a coincidence!” Rams stammered, a smile at the edge of aer lip, “What gave it away?”
“The water, jaanu,” Shreya said, mirth replacing her tears, “You don’t drink sparkling water, Rams.” 
Rams laughed, handing Shreya the water, “Did I also mention how incredibly perceptive you are?” 
“I don’t think so,” Shreya pressed a quick kiss to xir cheek, “but no worries, you can make it up to me right now~”
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Author’s Note: hihi. I will not lie. i struggled with this. kinda.
some people may know this, some might not but: i’ve been grappling with whether or not i am aromantic (or otherwise on the arospectrum) since ~january.
it’s been a long ride. some days worse than others. and this fic kept sending me down the “what is romantic love” question more times than I’d care to admit.
eventually I lowkey kinda gave up on trying love. it eludes me so I focused on what I think makes Shreya and Rams work as a couple <3
thanks to a wonderful friend (ya know who you are 🫶) I’ve started coming around to being aro —at least as long as it fits <3
hope y’all had fun reading!!
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stanathanxoox · 9 months ago
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Are You Alright?
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acting like they're cold to have an excuse to cuddle or share clothes or blankets - Beckett Harrington x reader
The two of you were waling through the grounds when a light breeze began to pick up. You moved closer to your boyfriend to try and shield yourself from the chill but it wasn’t working. You looked around to make sure there were no air-atts playing with you and sure enough it was just the two of you walking around. 
“Be-Beckett” you say, teeth chattering and he looks down at you, in your long sleeved shirt and jeans and raises an eyebrow
“What is it my love?” he asks
“I’m c-cold” and he immediately shrugs out of his jacket and throws it over your shoulders, before taking your hand and making a beeline for the dorm rooms.
“Come on, lets get you back to the dorms so we can warm you up. Hopefully, my little sun-att isn’t coming down with something” he whispers before placing a kiss on your forehead.
When you make it back to your dorm, he takes you through to your bed and you pull him down on the bed with you.
“Please stay?” you ask and he raises an eyebrow
“Are you feeling alright my love?” he asks worriedly 
“Just cold” you whisper snuggling into his side as he had already laid down next to you, and started to pull the covers up over the two of you. He places another kiss on your forehead before he whispers
“Sleep well my love”
Tag List: @tiva-jenry-caskett-rizzles-densi​, @jimmybpride​, @dressed-up-just-like-z1ggy​, @nikkiwierden​, @samchelforever007​, @kirkspockbones​, @xoncisxncislaxncisnolaox​, @lasalle-pride-sebastian-love​, @haliannej​, @brooklyn-99-amyxjake​​, @mizzezm​, @genius2050​, @twilight-twihard​, @cullencoven2019​, @wxlfgirlx​, @luciferxchloeislove​, @drethanramsey-ismybabe​, @sawyer-oakley-is-mighty-fine​, @loverofoneshots​, @aelin-thefirebreathingbitchqueen​​
Tag List for Pixelberry fics: @cordoniaqueensworld​, @aworldoffandoms​, @desiree—1986​
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dailycharacteroption · 4 months ago
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Class Feature Friday: Earth School (Wizard Elementalist School)
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(art by Indigojrps on DeviantArt)
And it’s time for yet another elemental school, this time going into the element of earth!
There’s something… odd about imagining your stereotypical wizard being a geomancer. We tend to think of most wizards being frail, feeble, and weak of body while their minds can bend reality itself. That visual language does not lend itself well to a character that invokes the raw might and resilience of earth.
Of course, that assumption is based both on the belief that a person has to reflect their abilities (which while useful and fun, is not necessary) and also the belief that a mage has to be physically weak, but there’s nothing stopping you from having an above-average strength score as a mage.
In any case, the element of earth covers all earthly materials, from the dirt beneath your feet to the stone and minerals of the rocky strata, and the geometric perfection of crystal and the potential of raw ore. It is the element of resilience and immovability, slow to act and patient, but absolutely unstoppable on the path to a goal once it starts moving. And while it is possible to shatter stone, it takes great effort, and even then, the shards left behind retain much of their former strength in their own right, and sport an edge that can prove dangerous to foes.
Earth is also an element of potential and crafting, as it’s many minerals have a myriad of uses both physical and chemical, so it is not surprising to see it be favored by elementalists who seek to create great works, particularly of stone, gems, or even metal, though obviously the latter is favored more by the spreading elemental tradition of metal.
Naturally, earth as an element is opposed by air in the western style, and by wood in the eastern cycle style.
The earth element lends itself well to defensive magic, but also offensive, and as such, such mages make for excellent allies in a siege, with their ability to create and tear down fortifications. However, they can also be found practicing more benevolent magic such as building great public works like bridges and buildings or crafting wondrous items using the magical properties of crystals, and so on, to say nothing of their expertise concerning natural geological formations for the purposes of delving and/or mining.
The earth elemental spell list has the old general staples concerning summoning or polymorphing into elementals, but it also has a lot of focus on conjuring or shaping masses of earthen material, which can range from creating walls, showing foes with rubble, to more esoteric uses like conjuring molten obsidian or tar or even clouds of toxic gasses such as those leaked from underground. Transmutation to or from stone is also a part of their arsenal, and they also gain plenty of offensive and defensive acid spells, since acid is associated with earth in First Edition thanks to the number of caustic minerals that exist in the earth. And who could forget all the various extradimensional pit spells?
Like many earth elementals, these mages derive strength from the ground beneath their feet, being supernaturally hard to make stumble or forcibly move. What’s more, their attacks hit harder and surer when both they and their foes are in contact with the ground. Finally, the most powerful geomancers can use the earth as a conduit for their magic as easily as the open air, meaning that earth and stone no longer block their spells, though obviously they still cannot see through it without other magic.
As a basic attack, these mages can conjure clouds of acidic gas, the fumes of which also debilitate those that inhale them.
Later on, they learn the art of earth gliding, able to swim through the ground the way earth elementals do. However, they can only do so for a limited time.
While no wizard is going to be winning any wrestling matches without magical aid, these elementalists can prove able to hold their own when foes try to inhibit them up close, plus the ability to earth glide means they can get out of nasty scrapes relatively easily. That being said, the real draw of this school is their focus on spells that control the battlefield, set up defenses, and of course generate all sorts of lingering damage. If that sounds appealing, a geomancer might be the right choice for you, but don’t forget to expand your magical arsenal to diversify as well.
I have to imagine that geomancers are a lot like geologists, and while they spend a bit more time mastering magic to manipulate their chosen element, they are likely very passionate about the many different times of stone and rock, and of course the composition and uses of various minerals.
Using arts stolen from dwarven enclaves they infiltrated over the years, the reptoid colony of Vaaskuta is built deep underground from the magically-terraformed rock, and these geomancers protect it still, preventing outsiders from learning of the city or of their plans.
The great underground lake of Banu-Nur is a place where the elements of water and earth meet, and there exists a rivalry between the elementalists that harness both elements. This has most recently come to head with a competition to see who could best retrieve rare crystals from the bottom of the lake. While the hydromancers may at first seem to have the advantage, their earthbound associates know the best conditions in which the crystals grow, and both will be relying on the bathysphere jellyfish of the lake to do their exploration and work.
Though long since worn by erosion and geological action, Mt. Minog is no natural formation. Indeed, it was crafted by elemental god of earth to be the seat of his power on the material realm. As such, it is something of a sacred site for geomancers who wish to learn greater secrets of earth and stone.
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makapatag · 2 years ago
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Forgive me a moment of kahilas, but let me tell you why you'd want to play Gubat Banwa for your next Tabletop RPG Fantasy campaign (or kandu, as we call it!) instead of the other prospects out there! Long post ahead~
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1: You want a fantasy setting that doesn't have a foundation in modern and western paradigms. This one is the easiest one to pitch. This is not just for those that are tired of European Medieval Fantasy: this is for those that want to look at the fantasy genre through new lens
It's one that doesn't have "adventurers" as an inherent fact of the setting. It doesn't accept "defaults". It doesn't romanticize monarchism. It is built from the ground up for tactical fights and the complicated contexts that surrounds those fights. "Combat as storytelling"
It centers us, in the Southeast Asia. So there are some things that might not be as common as in the West:
- oversea and river travel is much more common (and let's be honest, easier) than pure overland travel.
- Honor and Debt are huge parts of the game's social systems (and if you do some reading on medieval societies, aren't even unique to Southeast Asia at all!)
- There's no single dominating culture or empire: it's very diverse, and we don't use any one culture as the default
- You can adapt any Fantasy style campaign you have really, though it is a paradigmatic shift! You'll have to let go of fantasy defaults and imagine a wilder and more vibrant world
- There are no elves or orcs or whatnot--for us those are chaining things, binding things. Gubat Banwa is the wind. In fact, the closest thing we have to "humans" are strange bamboo people - Anything in normal fantasy has a fresh take: Knights wear moonstone armor and ride upon omen bird steeds, "berserkers" are holy martyrs ready to die for Goddess, sorcerers are mantra and mudra masters and utterers who have an enlightened will sharpened into a blade, archers are zen-daoists who have suffused into their surroundings and achieved minor enlightenment
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2: You want a game that's specifically built around war drama and martial arts combat and the kinds of stories that entails. There's a section in the book that covers "What kinds of stories you can tell" with the GB System
These genres are the kinds of stories i love to partake in and consume: stories of wandering martial heroes, or of complicated political warring, or of grand gods and sorceries a la Ramayana, or of small stories of warriors protecting their community
dungeon delving is not even inherently against the feel of this game, though of course sacking a grave is looked down upon by most religions in the isles. they are functionally replaced by "Raids" which is much more widely applicable! You can even Raid Heaven and Hell!
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3: You like complex buildcrafting, tactical combat, and martial art fiction. Instead of the classic "Hey we're a bunch of scrappy mercenaries that wield a sword out of necessity", you play as Kadungganan who inflict violence by choice, philosophy and will
"Martial Arts" here is every kind of way of inflicting violence, or of perfecting one's self. Elementalist sorcery? Combat healing? Pugilism? Mantra utterances? All martial arts in Gubat Banwa's purview.
This feeds into the buildcrafting: you start with a "Discipline" (a martial art), and each Discipline has a number of Techniques within it. Whenever your Legend Grows (level up) you gain 2 Techniques from ANY DISCIPLINE, keeping in mind prerequisites
This has led to some genuinely flavorful builds: like a priest from beyond the dead crocodile rider, a sniper that launches stolen demon seeds, a folk healer who practices flower necromancy and swordmancy, and even a Knight-Monk that is constantly dancing between stances
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All of this is built upon a tactical combat system that (similarly to PF2e!) has three actions as a base, and you can do anything with those three "Beats", lending to the martial arts fiction being invoked
And you start off with pretty limited options, so most of your build is pretty emergent: creating a Kadungganan is easy, since you can't choose from a huge pool of options, but advancement is exponential
It's all on a tactical grid too that has important considerations such as Elevation, Terrain, and even Weather! All to create slick wuxia-esque scenes!
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4: You want an endlessly iterative setting. Gubat Banwa is a trichiliocosm, which means it has three-billion worlds. Each one might have your table's version of the Sword Isles. The Sword Isles is a gigantic archipelago, too many islands too count, too many kingdoms to track.
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Everything you can think of will fit into the islands of the Sword Isles, just know that it centers Southeast Asian paradigms. A wandering adventurer from a far off land will be the exception, the norm. But endlessly interesting cultures and campaigns can arise from the Isles
And so much more. If you're already interested, take a gander at our itch page:
Also we have a discord where i run games back to back like a goblin: https://discord.gg/8h7ZrU6353
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mistfallengw2 · 3 months ago
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*peeks around your door*
Can you tell us about Aurelia's haircare routine?
Tl;dr: her haircare routine is a mess that tries to be functional, just like her.
For most of her time in the Legions, her routine with hair used to be cutting it short frequently and just... not really dealing with it beyond general fur hygiene. Fur already ends up getting matted with all sorts of grime and bloody bits during battles, and that's already a lot of effort to take care of during deployment on the frontlines. Maintaining a long mane makes it even worse, with the added malus of it being a safety hazard, especially against Flame Legion. Aurelia was far from unkempt, but it took one time of her letting it grow longer and stinky while on a long mission, then being power-washed by her elementalist mate made the routine stick hard.
The only exception was during the year and a half when she was pregnant with Adamas and reared him. The warband was on break from active duty due to their Legionnaire needing a long recovery from the wounds obtained during a mission that nearly ended in disaster for them all, so there was a lot of guarding and patrolling in uneventful safety for many months. Aurelia's mane grew longer since she had no reason to cut it, so Ardea started taking care of it for her and braiding it out of boredom, which eventually led to the first learning the tricks to keep it nice and clean even on the battlefield (feeding a cub has roughly the same effect on a smaller scale). Still, once Aurelia returned to active duty and her cub joined the fahrar, the rest of her mane was cut short again (it took two bloody battles to make her feel like she was wasting time), with the exception of the little braid on the side of her face that was first made by Adamas.
Any sort of haircare routine went out of the window during her years in the Mists, and she came out of there with the worst tangled mess imaginable. During her stay at Markus's mother's farm, they opted to shear that matted mop off of her head after a miserable attempt at washing and combing it out. Aurelia was completely out of it and did not remember anything, but she asked the kid to save the remnant of the little braid and redo it. A wee timeskip later, she had her mane cut short again when she returned to the Vigil, then she kept it presentable as it grew out during the whole Pact thing. On various people's suggestions (mostly about improving the Commander's image), she still trimmed her mane every now and then, but it was left a bit longer each time. She never did anything special, just quickly washed with what was available and brushed it, because any time spent with her own thoughts was highly uncomfortable. She occasionally let Adamas or Ellara help her out, both because they had better haircare routines than her and because company kept bad thoughts away.
Going through a murderous jungle made Aurelia kinda want to rip her mane out along with all the leaves, branches and sap that ended up in there, but she was convinced to give braiding a try. She still wanted to cut it all off, but her slowly improving mental state allowed her to adapt more easily to taking care of it properly, and she had to concede that it was a comfortable alternative. By S3 (in my headcanon it starts a year after HoT) she had more complex braids, and in S4 (after salvaging what wasn't seared to a crisp) she started gathering all her mane in one bigger braid, switching styles every once in a while and keeping it at a comfortable length.
In all of that, Aurelia never really developed a proper "routine", as any particular product or tool suggested to her had a tendency of getting lost or forgotten somewhere within a few months at most, and during Commander duty time for personal care was limited. Her mane was always fairly healthy and thick, so she never really needed to do much about it.
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blueberry-ash · 5 months ago
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Writer’s Month 2024, Day 4 (‘stage’)
TKA, Chu Yunxiu &/ Su Mucheng. A The Earth is Online fusion, except that this is, like, only 1500 words long and the worldbuilding fits the wordcount. Don't think about it too hard.
.
Don’t ask Chu Yunxiu whether the Earth going online at the climax of the Glory World Cup had been a good thing or a bad thing.
Well, it had been a nightmare, of course. How are any of them supposed to forget the horror of their in-game moves actualising into realness? The sudden burst of pain had been as impossible to process as the sight of their changed environment; and the weight of Chu Yunxiu’s hands, inexplicably raised in an Elementalist’s familiar casting pose, had been infinitely harder to comprehend than the blank expression on Li Xuan’s face as the white of his China Glory t-shirt had bloomed bright with blood.
(“Ding dong! The game ‘World Cup, Team Competition’ has been triggered. At 20:41 on August 6, players Team China and Team Russia have safely entered the game. The players have entered the sandbox, the game map is completed, the data is loaded…”)
Whether finding themselves abruptly in the game and bleeding had been more or less shocking than the Tower’s following explanation—who could say.
Nobody has talked about it in the three months since. Or—nobody has talked about it directly with Chu Yunxiu, anyway, unless her ambiguous little dialogues with Ye Xiu can be counted. It’s not as though there haven’t been frantically hushed little conversations as the members of their fractured group have parted ways, and played, and won, and joined back up again to travel slowly eastward. And it’s hard to imagine the remaining tacticians, at the very least, not having seized those overlapping moments to stress and strategize. Still, Chu Yunxiu has wanted no part of it. It’s considerably better not to think, Chu Yunxiu has decided.
At least—it’s better not to give her mind the chance to dredge up the things it wants to dwell on, anyway.
Bad enough to be plagued by them at night, at rest, in these brief moments of anxious, uncertain quiet.
(Her home.) (Why it was only Teams China and Russia vanished from the world’s gaze—Yu Wenzhou had been told everything from an outside perspective, later, by a shaken stadium employee—and brute-forced into a Tower Game during the Black Tower’s first announcement, when everyone else had been given three days to play or not.) (Her parents.) (“Ding dong! 498.16 million players successfully loaded the game…”) (Her teammates.) (“There are four ways to enter the Black Tower, and this results in four types of identities: pro players, official players, reserve players, and stowaways. Guess which the Tower hates the most!”) (Club Misty Rain’s silly orange kitten.) (“Ding dong! China District 5’s pro player Han Wenqing and official player Lin Jingyan have successfully cleared the first floor of the Black Tower!”) (Her friends.) (“All players, please work hard to attack the Tower!”)
(What it means, what it means, what it means—)
She’d once heard Fang Rui wonder whether it would have been better to have been back home when it had begun, or even to have never played Glory at all. He’d been concussed at the time, though he’d still held a knife flat across one knee. He’d asked Su Mucheng what she’d thought, and Su Mucheng had said nothing, only looked toward Chu Yunxiu. Chu Yunxiu had looked away.
Who could afford to imagine it—to have been on a regular summer break, and at home with her family. Or to have never played Glory at all—to have been one of the faceless sea of Chinese noobs pulled into a first floor level dungeon when Han Wenqing and Lin Jingyan had opened the Tower’s first floor; to have been ignorant and unskilled and perhaps very swiftly freed from all of it.
Fang Rui had only said it the once, and nobody had answered, but Chu Yunxiu had known—well.
It would have certainly been easier, at least.
But then—
But then Su Mucheng is shifting against Chu Yunxiu’s thigh, her sleeping face swiping drool across the bare skin of Chu Yunxiu’s leg, her fingernails flexing and scraping against the rough hairs on Chu Yunxiu’s calves.
‘Yunxiu,’ Su Mucheng mumbles, the tone of someone speaking from within a bad dream.
Chu Yunxiu rests a hand against Su Mucheng’s head, petting gently.
On the other side of the café, she can just make out the back-and-forth rock of one of Huang Shaotian’s drawn-up knees. The rest of him is still and silent, a careful pillow for his captain’s bruised face. She wonders whether he’s just as awake as she is, or whether his limbs crave movement even when he’s sleeping.
‘Brother,’ Su Mucheng sighs.
At Chu Yunxiu’s other side, Ye Xiu shifts in his sleep in unconscious response.
‘It’s okay,’ Chu Yunxiu soothes both of them. ‘It’s okay. Go back to sleep.’
It’s a lie, of course. Yesterday’s dungeon was hellish, and the next will be too. Chu Yunxiu feels that the lie still matters, though, even here in the looted mess of some Czech café. Or—especially here, probably. So long as there’s still someone to whisper it to, Chu Yunxiu figures. So long as there’s Su Mucheng, and—
Don’t ask Chu Yunxiu what she might have chosen, what she might have traded, if the Black Tower had forced her to pick between anything else and Su Mucheng. Don’t you fucking dare to even think about it.
Perhaps that’s the true silver lining to their World Cup championships having been taken and warped. Perhaps that’s the almost-bright-side coming out to glint dully beneath the stains of blood and loss and grief: the fact that Chu Yunxiu hadn’t been given a choice.
None of them had, not really. Not there. Not with the frozen burn of Chu Yunxiu’s ice turning real, and the harsh crack of Wang Jiexi crashing-tumbling-stumbling down beside her. Not with the Russian national team just as shaken and confused—just as unwilling to continue the match until the Black Tower’s rules had made themselves inarguably, explicitly, violently clear.
‘We could have been in the regular season,’ Ye Xiu had said quietly, after, when people’s tears had begun to fall. ‘We could have been at home, facing each other.’
(Ye Xiu had been crying, too. Chu Yunxiu had seen the dirty tracks of it before he’d swiped his knuckles across his face. She’d seen the salt amongst the blood and she’d seen his hands shaking.) (She’d seen the way he’d hesitated, earlier, silent and frozen when the Black Tower had abruptly offered him up like some kind of sixth player—a substitute for the fallen Li Xuan, it had said, and offered the Russians two more for balance. She’d seen the way he’d only burst into motion after he’d looked toward Su Mucheng and seen the trickle of blood along her cheek.)
Team China’s players had won, in the end. They’ve kept on winning, buffered by a kind of blank relief at finding themselves mostly in relatively straightforward dungeons, or having stepped accidentally into quests, and all of it horrifying but nothing so unforgivable as what they’d done that day in Zurich.
Better not to think about the Russian players.
Better not to think at all.
Su Mucheng sighs, and snuffles, and shifts around again.
Chu Yunxiu keeps petting, stroking her fingers through Su Mucheng’s short-cropped hair until her breathing steadies out.
Ye Xiu's shoulder digs against Chu Yunxiu's. The point of Ye Xiu’s umbrella—(“Pro player Ye Xiu has cleared the game and obtained the reward ‘Tower’s Manifestations Umbrella’ and ‘Trophy’s Grudge’…”)—scrapes across the cafe’s floor as he tightens his grip subconsciously.
He’ll be awake first, Chu Yunxiu knows. He’ll wake, and he’ll yawn, and he’ll dig out a cigarette for Chu Yunxiu to share. Maybe they’ll talk in low voices about the day ahead, or the nearby dungeon they’ve been avoiding, but, either way, there’ll be less talking than smoking.
Ye Xiu gets it, Chu Yunxiu knows. Ye Xiu understands there’s only one win condition that really matters, and if Ye Xiu’s definition is somewhat broader than Chu Yunxiu’s, well—the heart of it, for both of them, is still drooling in her sleep against Chu Yunxiu’s thigh.
Apply your brain, yes, but there’s really no room for overthinking.
And if other players have been surprised—Chu Yunxiu has noticed, unable to always hide the ironic twitching of her mouth—to discover that she isn’t at all the kind of person they should be relieved to be opposing, well—
It’s not as though Chu Yunxiu hadn’t been accustomed to that already.
Let them smirk across a mini game, when someone randomly recognises her. Let them murmur that she’d only ranked pro because boobs, because her team had carried her, because her Club had made money with her face on cosmetics.
Let them go ahead and die already.
Chu Yunxiu doesn’t plan to.
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deusvervewrites · 1 year ago
Note
Ground Zero X Demon Midoriya AU: Midoriya reappeared in a burst of flames six hours and sixteen minutes after his death… and he has learned things. Things nobody alive is supposed to know…
Ground Zero X Elementalist: What a way to learn that reincarnation is apparently part of his quirk…
Ground Zero X Hero Abroad: Midoriya isn’t exactly comfortable with staying at UA after… that.
Ground Zero X Foretell: The QAT and their first day of classes gave everybody the impression that Midoriya is generally a polite and soft-spoken young man. Having him suddenly scream “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!?!” at Bakugou took them all off guard.
Ground Zero x Demon Midoriya AU: I genuinely considered something like this before settling on Fa Jin. Uh, anyway, welcome back, Midoriya! I'm sure Uraraka would love to make a deal!
Ground Zero x Elementalist: Whoops
Ground Zero x Hero Abroad: I could imagine
Ground Zero x Foretell: Midoriya had never seen a future path burned out before
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