#this needs to be refined but for now! onward!

[witchboyjimin]

Your writing is something else. Maybe an Alpha JK (head alpha, strong and ruthless) coming back home from some battle and meeting Jimin on his land, in winter, searching for some herbs in the snow. In the red hood. Hands warming, invitation to be a guest at the pack (lol), Jungkook's smirking friends lol Do you like it here? I do. And so on)

Of course, if you're willing)

the last hunt before every winter is always the longest and the hardest. the pack has to travel farther away from their land in search for prey and for whatever they can forage in the woods. by the time they get back, hauling carcasses and weighed down with baskets full of whatever the land's gifted them, there's a layer of snow covering the earth.

this year, half his party had been sent back home early. word had come that a group of unknown wolves had been found wandering around on their pack territory in rather poor shape: malnourished, wounded, and knocking on death's door.

he'd immediately been suspicious. jeongguk wouldn't put it past a rival pack to use such an underhanded tactic to attempt infiltration, hoping to catch them of guard. he'd sent namjoon back with strict instructions to keep the foreign wolves under watch and to begin interrogations so the last thing he's expecting is to find an omega frantically scavenging around the pack's border, a red, hooded cape draped over his crouched figure.

he appears to be looking for something, his floral scent pungent with distress. jeongguk watches from several feet back, wary but not worried. an omega hardly presented a threat to him.

the omega hasn't noticed him, too busy searching for whatever he's looking for. jeongguk hasn't gotten a good look at his face but he's at least a head shorter and far too thin for the upcoming winter.

jeongguk is ahead of his pack by a few kilometers, deciding to be their scout this morning. being pack alpha was all good and well but he never got a moment's peace to himself and now his peace has been disrupted by a foreign omega.

he doesn't bother trying to hide his presence, even letting his scent sharpen as he approaches the omega, his jaw clenching when he realises the omega is here by himself without any supervision. how had he slipped past namjoon and the rest of the pack?

jeongguk is about to call out and demand to know who the omega is when the omega startles, head whipping up and finally noticing jeongguk, his cheeks flushed red from the cold. panic swells in his scent and he nearly falls back against the tree trunk he'd been crouched against. his hands are dangerously red, likely only a few minutes away from frostbite and jeongguk frowns.

"do you realise you're trespassing on my land, omega?" jeongguk asks, closing the distance between them. with every step closer, jeongguk drinks in the distraught expression on the omega's face. his eyes are wide with anxiety, lips cracked from the cold but bitten raw and despite the eyebags indicating a lack of sleep and the sallow colour of his skin, jeongguk can see that the omega is easy on the eyes. it's the only thing that explains the red cape, a glaringly awful garment to be wearing in the woods. "it's a punishable crime."

"i'm -- i'm sorry," the omega says, his heartbeat loud enough that jeongguk can pick up on it ten feet away.

the fear in his voice doesn't sit well with jeongguk. it was one thing to intimidate a foreign alpha or beta but omegas were always eager to please, stuttering and nervously looking anywhere but at jeongguk when they were around him.

jeongguk doesn't press, can already tell the omega is going to spill everything himself. his scent has grown so strong from distress, it's off putting.

"please don't tell the pack alpha!" the omega begs, wringing his hands together. he takes a hesitant step closer to jeongguk, swallowing. "i -- i know i wasn't supposed to leave the omega cabin but i, i lost my scarf when we were on our way here and it's all i have left of my mother -- "

"hm, and why shouldn't i tell the pack alpha?" jeongguk interrupts, already glancing around to see if he can spot any lost scarfs.

"he'll kill me!" the omega looks like he's about to cry, a tremble running through him.

jeongguk pauses, arching a brow. "that's a rather extreme reaction, don't you think?"

"but -- but everyone says alpha jeon is..."

"is what?" jeongguk encourages, already shedding his fur coat off so he can offer it to the omega. his red cape is hardly enough cover for winter. the omega looks conflicted, like he knows better than to speak ill of jeongguk's alpha but unsure how else he can convince jeongguk to hide his discretion.

"you can tell me," jeongguk continues, closing the gap between them. he drapes his furs over the omega's hunched shoulders, pulling the omega's hands apart so he can guide them each into one of the coat's pockets. the omega's heartbeat is even louder now, his entire body rigid as he allows jeongguk to button the coat. "i promise i won't tell anyone."

the omega dares to look up at him, his eyes like two pools of darkened honey and looks away just as quickly, his scent sweetening considerably. "thank you for your furs, alpha."

"hm," jeongguk hums, stepping back and giving the omega space. "you were saying about alpha jeon."

"the, the rumours all say that he's..." the omega's voice shrinks to a whisper, his unease returning. his gaze skitters about and his shoulders curl inward. "that he's quite ruthless and...and unforgiving."

"that is true," jeongguk agrees, ignoring the sharp whip of a passing gust of wind. "he's got a nasty temper. and he especially hates when people sneak about and lie to him."

the omega's eyes widen, looking again like he's about to cry except this time jeongguk doesn't feel so bad. he should, but he doesn't, perhaps enjoying the way the omega's lip seems to wobble.

"we'll find your scarf but you need to get by a hearth unless you want your fingers to fall off."

"you're not going to report me to the pack alpha?" the omega asks, daring to look up at jeongguk.

"you're rather harmless," jeongguk says, fixing the omega's hood so that it helps to cover more of his head. "i'll let it slide this time but for now, we're going back to the cabins. why did you and your -- are they your packmates?"

"we ran away," the omega confesses, following after jeongguk obediently. "our...i'm from the yoo pack, if you've heard of us."

jeongguk pauses, sucking in a deep breath so he doesn't give away the sharp spike of rage that floods through him. yoo junhyung was a despicable alpha, constantly getting into border wars with neighbouring packs and worse yet, kidnapping the omegas of other packs so he could add them to his harem. jeongguk had never had the displeasure of running into him himself but he'd met yoo's allies and they were just as nasty.

suddenly, the red cape and the omega's anxious temperament made sense.

"what's your name?"

"park jimin, alpha," the omega answers, keeping one step back. he's careful, mindful of jeongguk's presence as he walks behind him.

"was he intending to mate you, jimin?"

jimin stills, scent growing pungent with distress once more. he nods his head and jeongguk would have missed the movement if not for his sharp eyes.

"where were you running to? surely, you knew he'd come after you."

"anywhere was better than there," jimin mumbles, burying his face into the furs as far as he can go.

"and did you know you'd ended up on jeon pack territory?"

a shake of the head.

"i suppose you would have avoided alpha jeon given his reputation but then, there isn't really anywhere for omegas to go, right?"

jimin nods his head.

"hm." jeongguk points to the spot ahead of him. "i want you walking in front of me."

jimin obeys, nervously glancing behind him when they set off for the pack cabins again. jeongguk doesn't ask anymore questions, piecing together what's happened.

they were lucky to have ended up here. jeongguk's pack had their share of neighbouring arrogant, promiscuous pack alphas who viewed omegas as little more than cocksleeves to use and discard.

his own reputation was only so notorious because he'd killed his own philandering alpha father, the details of which were bloody and callous. jeongguk had grown tired of seeing his mother's tears by the time he was eight and in the next ten years had taken several near death beatings from his father for being a constant thorn in his side.

the two of them make it back to the pack's cabins in silence, jeongguk watching jimin's back the entire way over.

an alpha on patrol spots them, the colour draining from his face when he realises that a foreign omega is walking in with jeongguk. the alpha comes running over, scent tinged with fear as jeongguk's darkening gaze settles on him.

"alpha jeon! welcome back!" the alpha rushes out, glancing between jeongguk and jimin. "i -- that is -- "

jeongguk lets his eyes settle on jimin, his eyes widening in shock as the alpha's words sink in. "alpha jeon?" jimin squeaks out.

"hm," jeongguk smiles, spotting taehyung as he steps out of the nursery. he waves him over, stepping closer to jimin and wrapping a careful hand around jimin's forearm. he leans in, finding jimin's ear so he can whisper the words directly to the omega. "you'll have to show me how you snuck past my patrol but for now, i want you to go back to your cabin and rest. taehyung, take care of him."

"yes, alpha jeon," taehyung agrees, reaching for jimin's arm himself.

"you didn't -- " jimin starts, blinking past his shock. he's gone red with embarrassment, scent spiking with a new kind of distress. jeongguk finds it to be a far more enjoyable sight than the ruddy splotches he'd been greeted with when their paths had first crossed.

maybe he's being too lenient, but he finds it difficult to be strict with jimin.

jeongguk grins, shooing him off and turns his attention to the alpha, his expression hardening. "where's namjoon?"

the alpha scrambles to lead him to his second in command. jeongguk spares one last glance in the direction taehyung and jimin have disappeared down, the tuft of jimin's red hood a bright contrast to the white and brown around them.

hard to miss, jeongguk thinks to himself as he takes off to find namjoon. jimin looks back just as jeongguk disappears behind a cabin and a single thought rings through jeongguk's mind.

cute.

[nights-at-crystarium]

You know what, I assume that people always read my pinned, or notice the pointer "new reader? start here" in every new Fragments' episode. I might be deluding myself. So hi hello lemme TALK ABOUT MY COMIC.

Before I get too rambly (and I mean RAMBLY), here's a quick intro. Fragments is a comic focused on feels and slice of life, made by a queer guy, aiming to ~character study~ the main cast (Vivi, Raha, Alisaie, Feo Ul) and fill in the gaps in canon (or linger in canon moments that needed more air imo), the tone ranging from angst to fluff to meme. Good punches require a good windup, so please don't expect angst anytime soon :3c

The story's segmented (fragmented, heh) into episodes. Episodes 1-11 take place in ARR, you can enjoy them with no worry about spoilers. Episode 12 onward is ShB, with all the spoilers and lorebending.

My storytelling style assumes you haven't only played through ShB, but know it like the back of your hand, i.e. it's for nerds and thinkers. Of course there's plenty of silly moments that don't require any deep knowledge, but the overarching story does. Often I skip canon events, only hinting that they took place, simply because I don't wanna retell the msq 1:1, I've got plenty of original scenes waiting to be drawn. You're in for a treat if you like obsessing over emotional and moral implications of things. And, yes, this's a story about a morally grey mc. Don't expect to be spoon-fed "and this's why that thing's bad, kids".

Currently I've outlined all the main story beats up until post EW, so it's like, not being winged as I go. Yes I refine things here and there, but I know where I'm going. I'm going ham!!!! With the lorebending post ShB. Initially I didn't plan to, but the more I learned about Vivi and personally grew as a writer, the more courage I got to "divorce" from canon. The general xiv story may still be good wherever it's headed, but it's not suited for an established wolgraha, so I'm making food for myself.

Everyone imagines the lil scenes from their wol's life, I'm taking that a tiiiiiny step further. Fragments tells a cohesive story that's looking to be the longest project at least in our corner. I can and will hyperfixate on this for years.

I started out just like many others, being hit with ShB like a truck, I wanted to put a catboy under a microscope and rotate him forever. Although I'd already been drawing for decades, I didn't have the comic-making skills yet, or eloquence to write the dialogue, so I spent the first half of 2022 self-studying, just because I needed a mouth to be able to scream about my ship.

Vivi didn't exist prior to my obsession with Exarch. He was made for this, he started out as a reagent (or a foil, now that I know fancy writing terms) for a rich and fun chemistry, and keep myself entertained for years, first and foremost.

Me, a fool: okay let's make a guy that falls in love with Exarch in this particular moment, what kinda life must he have led to- Me: ....oh no

The chemistry quickly bubbled up and exploded in my face, involving not only Exarch, but other characters (first as a means to subtly tell about Vivi, then they also demanded their own screentime), and here I am, sitting with a massive script on my hands, drawing my blorbos every day. Thanks for enabling that btw.

I care about characters a lot. I ask a lot of whys and hows. I'm critical-minded and burned on many bad stories that did their characters dirty, and I wanna be an opposing example. What I'm doing is extremely ambitious and risky, yes, but I can only invite you to tag along and see if I stick to my word.

The internet's a cruel and unforgiving place nowadays, and here I am, pitting my passion against what feels like decaying humanity. I'm making this comic to keep myself happy above all else, being sincere and cringe because life's too short to be anything else.

Thanks for reading this, and if you haven't yet, read Fragments here!

[thetraumaking]

Accursed Crown: ATLA x Reader

Child soldier program within the Fire Nation. Princess Ursa will be having the first grandchild of fire lord Azulon, and as a gift, he sends his son, prince Ozai, to find an appropriate bodyguard for the mother of the nation.

After prince Zuko was born, princess Ursa became pregnant once more.

When she gave birth to her second. Not only did she suffer from a burn from the newborn, she didn't feel the motherly love she felt for her firstborn to her second. She couldn't hold her or even look at her. But she's not a cruel woman, so she found a wet nurse and let the other woman raise her. Well, that was the plan until for a whole day straight the baby girl wouldn't and couldn't stop crying. Even Ozai heard it and came to yell at Ursa for failing as a mother.

When the child had finally shutten up, Ozai turned to see the young guard gently holding the baby.

From that day onward, you, who was nothing but a child soldier, became the guard, the nursemaid, and mentor for the new princess.

NOT for the faint of heart!!!

Chapter 2: Old Child Chapter 3: Her Touch

Chapter 1: Prologue

Within a quiet little village, in the eastmost part of the fire nation, with a single torch illuminating a small hut, a new mother came to be. Her eyes filled with love and adoration as she lay next to her newborn.

‘You are my sunshine

My only sunshine

You make me happy

When skies are gray

You’ll never know, dear

How much I love you‘

Her voice lulled the child to sleep as her hand rubbed small circles on the baby's belly.

‘Please don’t take

My sunshine away’

Once Fire Lord Azulon assented to the throne, he passed down a “Nation's Calling.”

The Fire Nation child soldier program.

Children from unsavoury backgrounds or children from the slums were forcibly taken by the ‘collectors.’ To be trained in the art of combat and strategy.

For the greater good of the nation, those of the middle class and higher are more than accepting of the small sacrifice their people must make.

Your breath came out ragged as you dodged another punch to the face. The sudden movement makes you lose your balance as it provides an opportunity for your instructor to strike.

His foot landed hard on your stomach, you could taste your evening rations in your mouth.

Wheezing for air, you roll to the side. For every five of your strikes only two lands. And for every two, one of your instructor’s attacks lands a hit.

“Not bad, but you need to be faster than that to get your next badge, trainee number 076.” His grip on your arm is as tight as a vice. Pulling you off of the training ground for the next group to start their training. “For your age group, you’re not half bad.”

His praise meant nothing to you.

Throughout your years within the camp, it has been drilled into your and your peers’ heads that you along with the instructors are nothing but tools. A tool that must be sharpened and refined, only to be replaced and thrown away once they outlived their use.

You yourself have gone through a couple of instructors this past six years.

The earliest memory you have is being branded by your identification number. Trainee Number 076 from the first battalion second training company fourth squad. That is what you are, nothing more and nothing less. A child soldier groomed to serve the royal family. You are to serve and protect the great Fire Nation and those who rule it.

Failure is not an option.

“076,” your attention was brought back up to the older male, “I want you to focus more on your footwork. You can stay calm under pressure, that’s good, but your reaction is a bit off.” He explained.

The room he brought you to looked like an empty basement. Metal flooring, no windows, and nothing flammable in sight. “But don’t worry, we’ll work on it now.”

Before you could ask him anything, he shot a fireball at you. You felt the heat graze your cheek.

The blast illuminated the room just a bit before it went dark once more. The smell of burning hair lingered as he got into an offensive stance. His eyes glistened with something that made your skin crawl.

Taking a deep breath, you readied yourself for yet another rocky night.

It was a couple of months shy of a full year since the union of Prince Ozai and Princess Ursa when wonderful news fell upon the Fire nation.

The princess is with child.

Pleased with the news, Fire Lord Azulon looked back to the report he had been receiving on the progression of his camp. Collecting the scroll for the top nine candidates, he ordered his son, Prince Ozai, to go and take his pick for his wife.

The last assignment for the children to finish their training was to take out their prospective mentors once they had earned all their badges. Their accomplishments will be announced through a gold phoenix pendant that will be displayed on their chests. Depending on how detailed the phoenix is, the higher the ranking and skilled the soldier is.

Adored by your pendant, you stand by along with eight others. Each with differently defined pendants, only one that had the same details as yours. Red ruby eyes, each feather of the firebird carefully crafted and soldered, its beak shined and polished, talons sharpened and refined.

As you all filed in attention, the prince of your proud nation stood. Eyes sharp, carefully inspecting each and every one of you. He points at you and the one next to you. Ordering that the two of you to duel, to once and for all, know who exactly is deserving of the golden phoenix.

The next time you saw the prince and your supposed opponent was at the arena. The prince with his advisors and guards sat atop of the stadium.

Once the bell had been rung, the duel began.

Blow after blow, you masterfully evaded all of his strikes. Outside of the roaring flames and the occasional grunts and pants, the arena was in complete silence.

Nausea, fatigue, muscle ache, and overuse of your bending. Your wrists and arms sore from sporadic movements, legs aching as you drag each knee over hard molten rocks to evade and block. Bringing your fist forward, you shoot a blast of flames right past his nose.

And in a single moment of his panic, you took advantage, bringing your foot up, you slam it against his chin. You feel a crunch under your boot as you see his jaw move to the side at an unnatural angle. With a swollen chin and bleeding gums with missing teeth, your opponent now lay unconscious on the ground.

A pool of blood with bits of pearly whites was the only thing your eyes could focus on. The scent of iron and burnt flesh fills the air as the sounds of the roaring flames are now replaced with those of the roaring crowd.

With a sigh, you raise your fist in the air. Scarred, worn, burnt hands, stained with years' worth of blood and shame. Bright red blood cascaded down your forearm, the sticky liquid became your only source of warmth in the cold autumn air.

Like the warm-colored leaves falling from their trees, your own warmth drips down, one by one to the ground.

As your reward, you were taken to the palace. Rewarded by the honor of being the guard of the nation’s mother. Protecting her from any harm that may threaten her wellbeing.

076, the number that was branded onto your face, the number that serves you as your name, was now painted onto the black vale you wore over your face. Dressed in your new uniform, you stand in front of her Highness, Princess Ursa.

“I have prepared a gift for you.“ With a smirk, the prince places a hand on your shoulder, and immediately, you salute. Your vale brushes against the tips of your fingers as you bow to the princess. “Since you are carrying my heir, we have decided it would be best to give you a guard.” He looks down on you as he continues, “076 here has been under training since the age of three. I have personally seen her capabilities so I know that she will do a fine job.”

Not a word left the woman’s mouth, she didn’t even look up to see either you or the prince. Quietly, she nodded a thanks to the prince.

There was only one word to describe the princess, pitiful. She was utterly pitiful. Something that a queen of a powerful nation such as yours should never be close to.

For the past month you have been with her, ready to be at her beck and call, you noticed how beautifully pathetic she is. You know you shouldn’t be thinking such blasphemous things but how can you not when those forbidden thoughts are taking form right in front of you?

As you stand on guard by her Highness’s chambers, watching as the maids attend to her, you clench your fist.

No matter how many jewels they decorated her with or how expensive or how high-quality silk she may wear, the blatant sadness in her eyes was like a bucket of waste splattered on a canvas. Yet no one, like you, has spoken a word about it. The closest thing to joy was whenever she was alone in her room when her hand gently patted her own pregnant belly. Something close to a smile would be present on her lips as she hummed a tune.

The tune itself was slower than the one you know.

The maids left once they finished attending to the lady. Now, it was just you and the princess. You noted that there wasn’t a tense silence in the room.

“6, sit down for a bit. You’ve been standing there for five hours now.” Fortunately, the month you spent with her wasn’t for naught. You could tell that she has been slowly getting accustomed to your presence in her everyday life.

You nod and walk up to her. She looks up at you from her vanity chair, her eyes once weary now more at peace.

Kneeling, you sat on the floor. Hands neatly folded on your thighs as you hang your head low, awaiting for any more instructions.

You feel warm fingers on your jaw as it guides you to look up. As she slowly peels your veil off, for the first time, you let out a sigh as a cool breeze hits your face.

You watch her as her eyes take in your face. Her thumb runs on the branded number on your cheek as a dull ache spreads from every heartbeat in your chest.

She furrows her brows, and the scarred tissue on your face makes her heartache. What horrors have you faced at that camp? What tortures have you gone through for the sake of this accursed nation? And what poor souls have gotten their dear child stolen from them?

She felt pity for you, sorrow that you were robbed of love. Pain from the countless scars and burns on your young skin. Guilt for the empty eyes that are staring up at her.

And happiness that she has you by her side.

[citadelofmythoughts]

I don't think anyone expected T & A from RWBY but I do think a lot of Weebs expected the show to be just what it seemed on the surface. Flashing action scenes, amateur hour animation for slower scenes and a story that's ambitious but imperfect in presentation. All qualities of your average web series, something they like RWBY for.

Thus in their minds, RWBY was just... the dumb web show trying to be Anime. Like it or love it. The only reason it got hate to begin with was the whole thing with Crunhyroll. They hated that the show was rubbing elbows with what they felt was a top tier year for Anime circa 2013. Nonetheless, those who weren't looking to getting fussy engaged.

So when Volume 3 and onwards upend the magic school plotline for something more free form as well as deep, many felt cheated. Hence, many are hypercritical of a series that's "trying so hard to be deep and failing." To them, RWBY was suppose to be this basic web series that was fun cheese and now it's trying to be a refined dinner.

Of course, there's also the matter of wishing it was more like the Anime titles (with or without fanservice) they often cite as "What RWBY Can Learn From." While I don't think they're conscious about it, it's not wrong that there's this, "If you wanna be considered Anime of any kind, you need to fulfilled these requirements," kind of vibe Which... feels like a studio executive muscling in on a movie director's vision.

And they claim to value creativity. :/

Basically they want RWBY to be in this box of being a basic web series of no value and that if it wants to join the "professionally produced Anime" in the other box, it has to sacrifice aspects of what it is to be considered part of the medium.

It's difficult to put RWBY in a box and I think that's a good thing.

In fact, it's the differences between it and anime and even western animation that made me fall in love with it. Modern anime isn't exactly...innovative even if I do love many shows, there are a lot of tropes that repeat and women are still mostly afterthoughts and love interests.

Sometimes CRWBY's reach exceeds their grasp but that's not really any different than any other show.

RWBY is it's own thing and I wouldn't want it any other way.

[thevanillerose]

NOWHERE TO | HAUNTED!JOSEPH x READER | THE EVIL WITHIN

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

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

“JOSEPH, STOP!”

That cry still echoed. If only it had worked. Now here you were. Convinced you were about to die.

What a horrible twist.

“Fuck...fuck...!” You knew you shouldn't have been talking at all, but you just couldn't help it. The panic was surging through you like a rapid wave. Your legs felt fit to buckle any second yet still you pressed onward, knowing that the moment you slowed down you'd essentially be inviting death upon yourself.

And you didn't want to die. Who did?

Skidding into the room at the end of the corridor you had been racing down, you desperately sought some kind of place where you could curl up and be silent, hoping he would pass you by. A slightly damaged but still solid filing cabinet caught your eye, and you sprinted to the end of the room, scrambling behind it.

Collapsing to your hands and knees, your frantic fingertips brushed against something cool, and you looked down to see a partially opened pair of scissors. Rusted, a little blood encrusted, but they would do for a weapon until the moment you ever needed to find something better. Hopefully none of it would be necessary.

It seemed you'd lost him far behind you thanks to that stun from your original slap, but if Joseph's now ghoulish appearance was anything to go by, he'd likely be able to sniff you out. Recalling how his face had contorted and twisted right before your very eyes made you nauseous.

He wasn't him anymore, and the Joseph you knew before...was someone you had liked a lot. He was intelligent and handsome, kind hearted and determined. You had been so glad to work alongside him even in such a nightmarish place. Yet nothing that STEM had thrown at you thus far could even remotely compare to the terror of watching him change like that.

One minute he had been doubled over and coughing, having only just suggested plans for locating Sebastian seconds earlier. The next, he was straightened up again...and he looked like a monster.

You seized the scissors and pressed your back to the discreet side of the cabinet, clutching the it'll-do weapon to your chest and trying your best not to breathe too loud. It was a hard task though, considering how exhausted you felt after sprinting so far. You had rushed through this hospital...facility...asylum...whatever the hell it was supposed to be with such speed that you hadn't even known you were capable of it.

When it came to fight or flight it seemed you were a master of the latter. “...[Y/N]~...” Though perhaps it would have been best to also refine the former.

Footsteps echoed on the solid blood-stained floor, and soon enough you sensed his presence entering the wide room. It was circular, and you were at the other end of it from him. Yet you could hear the way he sucked breath between his teeth, almost aroused by the sense of fear dripping in this place.

“You know you can't hide from me, don't you?” Shit! “And I know that you're in here.” he started pacing inside calmly, tugging his gloves a little tighter onto his hands, hands that desperately sought to wring your neck. “So just come out nicely for me now and we can talk it over. What do you say? That sounds like a plan, right?” He spoke so sweetly it was saccharine, like a sickly syrup. You wanted to vomit but you kept it down and only gripped the scissors with more vigor. You weren't dying today.

“No? You're not going to?” Joseph spoke like he was pouting. “That's a shame-”

Suddenly there was a loud BANG!, and you were shaken so much you almost let out a scream. Joseph flung the nearest chair angrily at the wall, followed by another into one of the display cases, shattering the glass with ear-piercing impact and letting the empty dried up bottles inside come tumbling out. You listened to them roll, and among the din you picked out his dress shoes stepping ever closer.

“...Sorry about that kitten-” Kitten? “-It's just that you're...making me really mad right now...and it's kind of hard to resist losing my shit...”

Black coated fingers slid gently atop a nearby surface. “I promise you though, if you come out willingly I'll have no reason to hurt you.” Then why chase me in the first place!? “I'll be gentle. I know I freaked you out back there, and I'm sorry. I mean it.”

Fuck. He sounded so genuine you had to shut your eyes and remind yourself that he wasn't. This was all an act. If you bought it and did as he said you'd only end up dying quicker. You just had to fight your emotions and think logically here.

You'd loved him once. But you couldn't love what STEM had made him become.

“Hah...[Y/N]...sweetheart...this is really starting to-” CRASH! “-PISS ME OFF!!”

The squeak couldn't help itself, and Joseph's scarlet eyes were on your location in an instant. “Ohohoho...there you are...” He made a beeline and you acted on instinct, lunging out and keeping your eyes shut still as you thrust the scissors toward him. “GET AWAY FROM ME!”

Thud. Hollow. Kind of moist.

Your eyes gradually opened again when you didn't feel him touching you, and you stared at the chest before you. Blood slowly seeped through the white shirt he wore, blending with his tie. Raising your head, you looked up to see a pair of startled eyes gazing right back into yours.

This was the scariest thing so far. They were human.

The veins and rot that had plagued his pallid skin before were faded. The face you saw staring back at you in pained horror was the one you'd fallen in love with. The one you knew so well. “J...Joseph-”

And just like that it was gone again. His left hand shot up and yanked the scissors out of his pectoral, while his other snatched your neck like it was a tree branch. He could break it just as easily.

“Joseph-!!” you gasped and gagged as he squeezed, tossing the blood-soaked weapon aside and letting it clatter to the floor, while he then let his free hand grab your neck too. Your body was thrust back and slammed down onto the nearest desk, Joseph forcing his weight down upon you as he leaned over your steadily weakening form.

Desperately you tried to form some words but your mouth ached just gasping for some kind of breath. Your legs kicked and your fists pounded against his arms, nails digging in savagely to any softness they found, but your Haunted former companion only kept strangling you.

His brow was furrowed, his eyes glowing, his teeth grit. “You'll pay for that you bitch...” “N...no...” you managed to wheeze out, but the fact you could say anything at all only prompted him to hold you harder. Blotches filled your vision steadily, and you began to feel fainter and fainter. Death only seemed imminent then.

Yet something you hadn't intended was happening, right there before Joseph's callous eyes, and it made him falter.

It was because of no condition that this rarity happened, it could probably be pinned down to STEM playing tricks with his head again. But your tears weren't simply tears...they were blood.

You were crying so hard, so sorrowfully, that you were bleeding.

Wailing. Begging. Bleeding for him.

Some fraction of remaining humanity that still resided within Joseph made him hesitate, and for that brief moment he let his grip loosen. Regaining clarity quickly, the baffling situation dawned on you. He...stopped? He wasn't going to kill you? Why?

There was no time to question it. The moment your hand picked up the scalpel not two inches from you, you acted. And because you knew you had to, you did so without remorse.

Joseph wasn't going to be Joseph again. There may have been glimmers of hope here and there, like right now, but it was only a matter of time.

As you sat up suddenly you took one last miserable look into those hazel eyes before thrusting the scalpel straight through one of them. Maybe there was a little reluctance there. You should have stabbed him in the throat. “GAAAHH!!!” But it was the best you could do, and you took the opportunity to run while you had it. While his wretched scream echoed in the room you sprinted for the door and burst through the opening with a surge of determined speed.

You were weakened, and you were petrified, but you kept on running. Your life depended on it.

Even when you heard the screaming stop. Even when Joseph tugged the scalpel from his socket and let it drop. Even as he turned and watched you shrinking down the hallway with a single relentless eye.

Even when you heard him call out to you. You wouldn't slow down for a second.

“I'll find you [Y/N]...!” You didn't look back. “I'll FIND YOU!!” You just kept going.

Joseph wiped his bloodied, ruined mouth, and smiled. “Because there's nowhere to run...and there's nowhere to hide...” He chuckled. “And you know that.”

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

[floralovebot]

isn't helia kinda meant to be respresenting of diversity in the specialists group? in winx you got tecna with short hair or musa with a tomboy style (both discarded in later seasons, too bad), even aisha with her sporty side.

helia to me is like that but on men's version. he's pretty, he likes art and he got luscious long hair, obviously gonna stick out in a school of martial artists that wield weapons and kill monsters.

but he's still a man that kills monsters, like musa wears cute fairy dresses.

he's like that one character that is just different but at the same time the same. in like tecna and musa, in the series they got rid of his artistic side and more quiet personality to the point I even saw him trying to punch riven for imitating a werewolf (but mischaracterization of season 3 onwards aside).

he's obviously showing that men can be pretty much straight and masculine but hace attributes that feel androgynous. you don't need to guess his gender or orientation outside fans' headcanons or little oc universes. helia is the same as his friends with a more refined design that adds more diversity.

he's pretty, got a pretty girlfriend, likes to draw, he's head over heels for his girl, flora is his muse, he loves his grandpa, he can lead missions, he's a skilled fighter, he's levelheaded and he enjoys the quiet.

exactly! like i really do not understand why this is such a big issue for some people. if tecna can be less traditionally feminine without anyone questioning her canon gender, why can't the same be true for helia? and again, absolutely no issue with headcanons (as long as they're respectful and not offensive)! but the rumor that he was supposed to be a girl is just so ?? like who said that. give me their number NOW alhgd

even though most of the specialists now fit into one neat little category, there was still diversity! timmy wasn't as buff, he was more sensitive and emotional, etc. he got buff in the third season, but at least his personality stayed. and just like they made flora latina to add diversity to the winx, i think they made helia Very Noticeably asian to add diversity to the specialists. nabu added racial diversity too but then they killed him so

but anyway yeah, even disregarding race and just focusing on personality and interests, helia was meant to be a better fit for flora which means he's not going to be a super nasty macho man. obviously. her type is sensitive, emotionally cognizant people who don't explode every five minutes (sorry flora/riven likers). and when designing him, they were pretty clearly inspired by shojo anime/manga. and Again, long hair on men isn't a "weird" or Strictly Feminine thing in the winx universe. like i'm saying dude people are weird as shit to Helia Specifically. like this doesn't happen to timmy or tecna. it's Him.

[cursed-40k-thoughts]

I’ve been a fan of 40k for several editions now and I’m curious about something. Why do the Blood Angels, Dark Angels, and Space Wolves all have their own codexes, but the other first-founding chapters like the Salamanders and Raven Guard don’t?

Games Workshop take a long time to get around to things. Plus, a distinct Codex usually requires distinct minis, and Raven Guard and Salamanders don’t have any crazy different units, aside from a small handful of lads. S’why the Salamanders got a (very strong) supplement, rather than a whole codex. If they did a codex for them, they’d do it alongside a drop of new miniatures. On that front, I’d rather see a faction like the Eldar get their old stuff modernised before another wave of unique minis is introduced. Refining what you have before pushing ever onwards is something GW needs to get better at.

[rimeiii]

When an Arknights Doctor meets the WHB MC...

Summary: With tensions in Hell growing ever higher and the demons fighting from a disadvantage, even the descendant of Solomon Ryeomae finds herself desperate for a way to help. Her first aid lessons with Marbas have been going well and has proved to be valuable in a pinch, yet she feels it still isn't enough.

So when Leviathan somehow managed to pull three odd people from his coffin, one of them being a tactical commander, Ryeomae decides to take the opportunity to learn from them.

A question, though: How come Leviathan summoned an angel, a demon, and a little boy from what are usually worlds with Eldritch-like beings?

CW: Crossover with Arknights, purely self-indulgent. Potentially OOC. A product of malding over 12-20 Adverse as well as IS3 Ending 4, and a way to unwind before malding over Hortus de Escapismo's EX stages and the main story's H stages (need to clear those from Episode 8 onwards, end me now), because what do you mean the Damazti Cluster is in 3/4 of Episode 12's H stages.

For context, the enemy description:

As Uncle Kukki put it best: "Bro! Year 4 Arknights is fucked! What is this?!"

Back to the topic!

Using my own AK docsona (Dr. Requiescat) and WHB MC (Ryeomae). Suggestive themes up ahead considering WHB is an 18+ game, though nothing explicit is described. Regardless, please exercise caution.

Also, spoiler warnings for:

Arknights: Main story (up until chapter 12), revelations about the true nature of the Sankta, brief hints for Ending 4 of IS3 (Mizuki and Caerula Arbor)

WHB: Main story (up until chapter 4)

Waking up to yelling in Hades of all places was not something Ryeomae expected.

Leviathan's land has always struck the human as a refined one, after all. Never really outwardly violent and boisterous like other regions such as Gehenna, she always pegged Hades as the land of devotion towards its ruler, always maintaining the veneer of politeness that he always seems to exhibit. Restrained politeness it may be, as they are driven by envy, but politeness all the same.

Besides, the last time she heard panicked screaming was during their first aid operation when Leviathan was drenched by angel blood...

Oh, shit.

Bolting upwards from her bed (and ignoring the ache in her thighs), she immediately gets dressed before making her way towards the throne room, where she is certain Leviathan would be. She had half a mind to immediately go to the source of all that screaming, but she quickly reminded herself that she still doesn't know the castle's layout well enough to do so without getting hopelessly lost. Reporting to Leviathan would be the sanest course of action.

Walking briskly towards the demon king's throne room and giving customary polite smiles towards all the other demons passing by, Ryeomae wonders just how much work Leviathan is handling on his own. While it is true that demons in general have much more stamina compared to humans (how else would Leviathan still be awake while tending to her after multiple rounds with her), she still wonders how he still has the mental energy to complete paperwork - especially with the war against Heaven still going on.

It's probably just a demon king thing. Specifically Leviathan. Ryeomae concludes with a shrug. Best not to question it...hm?

Lost in her thoughts, Ryeomae now finds herself in front of Leviathan's throne room, her hands subconsciously already holding the doorknob. The imposing double doors, deep obsidian in color, never fails to send shivers down her spine - yet her trepidation immediately dissipates into thin air the moment she heard commotion beyond the door.

"Tell me. What other dimensions have you conquered, angel?"

"Oh for crying out loud-"

"At ease, Doctor. And technically speaking, she is not an angel, sir."

"And you're the one who summoned us, right?"

Ah. A summoning session gone wrong.

Yet something about all this seems off. Ryeomae can sense the aggression in Leviathan's voice, what with the low growl embedded in his normally silky smooth voice and the curt tone embedded in his speech. Which is weird - normally he is amiable with the Eldritch beings he summons into battle. What's making him be at odds with this group in particular?

No matter. Three sharp knocks on the door, and an announcement of her presence. "Leviathan, love, is everything alright in there?"

A beat of silence, before Leviathan's voice emerged once more. "Ryeo, go back to our room. I'll tend to you personally after I deal with them."

Wait, deal with them?!

"Leviathan, what's going on?!" Gone was the pretense of relative calm, with Ryeomae now desperately pushing against the double doors of the throne room. It inches forward bit by bit, which is the tiniest relief in what amounts to an emergency situation for her. "I'm coming in!"

"Ryeo, no! There's an angel-"

"What angel?! I'm a Sankta, Mr. Sarkaz sir!"

A lull, as everyone fully takes in the female's voice. An angel- no, Sankta, apparently. A term that even Ryeomae is unfamiliar with, coming from Earth, and a term she never heard any demon mention during her stay in Hell.

Ignoring Leviathan's bewildered response of "Sarkaz? What is that? I'm a demon king, miss," Ryeomae takes the opportunity to open the door fully, and freezes.

She comes face-to-face with the so-called Sankta - a young woman with a dark halo and similarly dark shards of light resembling wings extending from her back. Her hair, tied into a neat braid, is chestnut brown save for a stray tuft of black hair along her bangs - with a black cap covering the top of her head. Her eyes, hidden behind a pair of glasses, are blood red, resembling Satan's eyes without the inverted crosses as well as the constant anger and lust burning in his eyes. The sight of angels in Hell has conditioned Ryeomae to recoil somewhat at the mere sighting of a halo, but that wasn't even the scariest part about the Sankta.

What's perhaps most terrifying about her, in fact, are the shards of black crystals emerging from her skin. They extend from her collarbone, dark lesions peeking from beneath her shirt, extending upwards up her neck before dispersing into tiny crystals on her left cheek.

All of a sudden, Ryeomae is reminded of the screams and wails spilling from Ppung's mouth. The angelification process, while still being much more horrific than these crystals, still proves to her that having unnatural objects burst from beneath your skin is a terrifyingly painful experience. And this Sankta lady must have been living with it...

Ryeomae's healer instincts kick in, and she immediately starts barking out orders.

"Miss! Stay still, I'll get medical aid your way! Your Majesty Leviathan, the first aid kit, ASAP! Contact someone to help us take her to Paradise Lost as well!"

"Eh- huh?!"

"Ryeo-"

"Shush, Leviathan! Something's wrong with her-"

"Calm down, miss-"

"What do you mean, kid-"

"Deep breaths, miss. I am Logos, and as the Doctor's closest confidant, I shall explain everything."

~

Doctor. A title that holds so much meaning in Rhodes Island (and not the place on Earth, but a pharmaceutical company in another world called Terra), but one that only retains its dictionary meaning elsewhere. A concept that Logos, a Sarkaz of the Banshee bloodline, feels the need to explain to the demons and human before him.

Dr. Requiescat is not only a neuroscientist affiliated with Rhodes Island working to find the cure for Oripathy, a fatal illness originating from the world they came from that even she contracted herself, she is also the tactical commander for all of Rhodes Island's on-field operative work. The dark ores Ryeomae sees on the Doctor are physical signs of Oripathy, and she's on medication to curb the disease's development. A medication that Mizuki, the young boy that arrived with them, gently reminded the Doctor to take, the Sankta asking for a glass of water to down the few tablets of medication.

The Doctor is a Sankta, not an angel. Sarkaz who were chosen by the Law to live according to it, and thusly viewed as a traitor to their own bloodline by many a Sarkaz. A legacy long forgotten by the Sanktas themselves, and one that the Doctor had to relearn through Logos as well.

"And you, Logos? You're a Sarkaz, right? You're not bothered by it?" Barbatos asks, eyes widening in awe. At some point, Leviathan's nobles have showed up in the throne room at their king's behest, and as a result there are now an additional four demons getting to know the three newcomers.

Logos shakes his head, his gaze softening as a faint smile paints his lips. "The Doctor has always been someone I can talk to easily, even before the Chernobog incident. Harsh in the battlefield she may be, moreso before the Chernobog incident, but she is still merciful and kind outside of battle."

Leviathan's pale eyes narrow, still not willing to completely believe the Banshee King's words. But the Doctor, already sensing the demon king's doubts, heaves a heavy sigh.

"I know I can't prove anything to you, sir. You just give off that...vibe, I suppose, is the word." Dr. Requiescat murmurs eventually. "But give us a reason why you can't fully trust us, if not just me, at the very least."

Barbatos, once again, is the one who answers them, an apologetic smile adorning his bright features. "We're in the middle of a war against the angels, miss. And our angels are very cruel, needlessly cruel even. You'll have to forgive us for not being able to trust you easily, miss."

The Doctor shrugs, taking Barbatos's words in stride. "Fair. Not all Sanktas are good either way - I think Federico mentioned something about going after someone, most likely Lateranian."

Logos nods in affirmation. "To my knowledge, he did. And on the other hand, the situation with the Sarkaz is quite complicated. It would take a long discussion of Terran politics and history to explain to people unfamiliar with it, but all you need to know is that we have had...conflicts regarding our ideals-"

"Your Majesty Leviathan! Angels have launched an attack on the city square!" A lesser demon barges into the throne room, panting and out of breath. He pauses to collect himself, before noticing the three newcomers in the room. "Your Majesty, who-"

"People you do not need to worry about." Leviathan replies curtly, motioning for everyone within the room to follow him. "Now come, all of you - get ready to fight."

He then turns to face the Sankta properly, his eyes narrowed menacingly.

"And you. This is your only chance to earn my trust, miss battlefield commander."

Yet the Sankta remains unfazed, her gaze hardening at the mention of a battlefield. "Copy that, demon king."

~

Having a seasoned battlefield commander helping to organize the demons' forces worked wonders in keeping everyone as safe as possible while ensuring their angelic enemies were all eliminated. And Ryeomae had to admit, she may have started to have a little crush on the Sankta for the near effortless way she directs Hades's forces. Easily directing them towards the main enemy forces, executing flawless pincer attacks against the angels, utilizing enemy blind spots and the terrain for sneak attacks...it was enough for her to earn the trust of the human, Leviathan, and his demons alike.

"The key to issuing effective battlefield commands is information control." Dr. Requiescat explains when Ryeomae asked the Doctor for any battlefield command tips. The pair, perched inside the top floor of an abandoned building, enjoyed a relatively expansive view of the battlefield - much wider than her usual position behind the brunt of the fighting. Logos and Mizuki were loitering around the area, the duo being tasked to protect Ryeomae and the Doctor from any sudden attacks, especially after the human mentioned how she was marked by Gabriel, making her a prime target for the angels. "How do you scout for information about the enemy while keeping your own forces in hiding until absolutely necessary? Such a skill is necessary while fighting off large hordes of enemies with a limited fighting force of your own."

In the Doctor's hands is her tablet, transmitting footage from the surveillance drones she had launched during the start of the operation. She points out one particular screen, where Ryeomae could see Heaven's forces getting ready to attack the area where Glasyalabolas was stationed in. "Look here. They may be getting ready to attack that small shop, but their formation is messy. Take out the leader and their entire group falls - Glasyalabolas, enemies inbound at 10 o'clock! Leader at the front!"

"I see them. Engaging the enemies." Glasyalabolas's deep voice reverbs from Ryeomae's earpiece, and soon after, his large and imposing frame already has his coffin out, now engaging with the enemy leader. His own forces focus on picking off any other angels trying to get him off the enemy leader.

Ryeomae watches in awe as the angels' formation crumbles upon the enemy leader's defeat. This was far from the first time she saw the Doctor effortlessly dismantle a group of enemies, yet it never fails to impress her. Taking notes of the Doctor's tactics, Ryeomae figures she'd be able to apply them later on, in case she is needed to help command the demons.

"It helps that these angels are...sloppy." The Doctor snorts, a tiny smirk on her features. "Even Reunion's forces are much more organized than them - no offense to Patriot and FrostNova whatsoever, since their forces are actually pretty organized. And here I thought angels were supposed to be the organized forces..."

Ryeomae scoffs. "You'd be surprised, Doctor. But that means you're used to fighting in disadvantageous situations like this?"

Surprisingly, the Doctor's expression softens considerably, gaining an almost melancholic tone to it. "Yeah. In Chernobog, Lungmen, and now Victoria, we were always on the back foot. And down in the future, should the Seaborn invasion happen, we will always remain on the back foot. You...get used to it, eventually."

Seaborn...?

"Something that you shouldn't worry about, Ms. Ryeomae." Mizuki chimes in, a bright smile on his youthful features as he no doubt notices the confusion etched onto Ryeomae's expression. He then approaches the Doctor and pats her shoulder comfortingly. "And something that you also shouldn't worry about, Doctor. I have faith we won't stumble upon that terrifying future!"

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mizuki." Dr. Requiescat smiles faintly, before diverting her attention to Ryeomae once more. "Anyways, it does help that most of these angels don't use a lot of different modes of attack. Most of our forces have long-ranged modes of attack to snipe their forces down as well, so..."

Ryeomae smirks, reminded of a certain fluffy-haired demon king of wrath. "If you thought this was long-ranged, you'd love seeing what the demons of Gehenna are capable of."

The Doctor shrugs, completely unperturbed, and Ryeomae finds it in herself to be offended in Gehenna's behalf. "We have people able to command drones that can attack at any point in the battlefield. And apart from that, we have snipers like Ambriel and Fartooth, able to hit the most unexpected of places. Fun fact: one of our drone users, Goldenglow, is a hairdresser."

Now it's Ryeomae's turn to fall completely silent, before erupting into confused yelling. "What do you mean, hairdresser?! I-"

"Get down, Doctor, miss!" Mizuki yells, summoning his tentacles to strike at something attempting to crash into the window in front of them. The Doctor curses under her breath, pushing Ryeomae behind her as she shields the human with her body. Logos is immediately beside her, his incantation Arts causing trails of light to flutter around them both.

But this 'something' manages to evade Mizuki's tentacles, deftly maneuvering around the neurotoxin-laden appendages. It forces its way into the building, coming face-to-face with Logos. Thankfully, the Banshee has already finished charging up his attack, launching it towards the infiltrator and sending him careening into the wall opposite them.

When the dust settles, Ryeomae could see that the crumpled-up angel had short white hair, bangs covering the right side of his face, his one visible eye sending her a murderous glare.

Ryeomae feels a chill run down her spine. Gabriel.

Her grip on the Doctor's shoulders unconsciously tightens, and she shrinks into herself, attempting to make herself as scarce as possible. Were it be any of the other demon kings who's with her right now, Gabriel likely wouldn't be targeting her, purely because of the sheer strength the demon kings have. Mizuki and Logos are strong, yes, but she's not sure if they're as strong as any of the demon kings.

And yet, the three newcomers to Hell are as unperturbed as ever.

"Huh. I can see why you hate the angels now. Reckless and violent little shits, aren't they?" The Doctor comments, frowning as she stares at the recovering Gabriel. "Still, though. Neither tact nor strategy. None whatsoever. Divebombing without a care, really? Who is he, Kevin?"

"Doctor..." Logos sighs, tapping the Sankta's shoulder blade insistently. "Focus. Please."

The Doctor had the decency to look the slightest bit abashed, at the very least. "Sorry, Logos. Force of habit."

Logos nods once in acknowledgement as he diverts his attention back towards Gabriel. Without missing a beat, he charges up another spell, allowing his Arts to form streams of light encircling them all. A shield of sorts, if you will.

And perfect timing, too, as Gabriel whips out his scythe and slashes forwards, the blade clashing with Logos's shield.

Gabriel's eyes are murderous as he holds the Doctor's gaze, boring holes into the Sankta's head. She keeps her cool and stares back at the furious angel, however. The lack of fear in the Doctor's eyes must have set Gabriel off even more as he growls menacingly, his arms applying even more pressure on the barrier Logos erected between them, muscles straining beneath his pristine shirt. Logos's Arts shield starts to emit sparks, causing anxiety to shoot up Ryeomae's spine - what if it breaks?

Yet the Doctor remains calm, stoic - unimpressed, almost.

And loathe as Ryeomae is to admit it, that scares the living shit out of her - even more than the potential of the Arts shield breaking, even more than Gabriel's presence in front of her.

"You are an angel, no?" Gabriel growls out, the darkness and malice in his voice unlike any Sankta the Doctor must've been familiar with, considering how one of her eyebrows shot up in disbelief. Yet he doesn't seem to notice her reaction, continuing on what he believes must be a righteous tirade. "Why, then, are you siding with these demons?"

Dr. Requiescat heaves a heavy sigh as her fingers twitch, desperately fighting off the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose in frustration - a bad habit she had described to Ryeomae during their downtime between angel attacks. "How many times do I have to explain to you all?! I'm a Sankta, not an angel!"

Gabriel doesn't seem to be too keen to inquire upon the unfamiliar term that confused the residents of Hades only a few hours ago. Instead, his growl grows even more murderous, pressing his scythe downwards even more. Logos narrows his eyes, his Arts struggling against the force Gabriel is applying onto the barrier.

And yet, as sudden as Gabriel's attack was, so was his sudden collapse at the hands of Mizuki's neurotoxin-laden tentacles.

The angel's mouth hangs open, a scream of pain lodged in his throat as he feels his body seize up involuntarily, muscles contracting so painfully it practically paralyzed him completely and inadvertently causing him to drop his scythe with a dull clatter. Amid the angel's fixation on the Sankta and Sarkaz duo, the young boy had managed to slip away unnoticed, stabbing Gabriel's body with his tentacles and injecting a paralyzing neurotoxin into the angel's flesh. He retreated his tentacles the moment he saw Gabriel go down, a smile on his boyish features as he looks down on his downed adversary.

"Get away from them, please."

Ryeomae can feel the shiver that ran through Gabriel's back at the threat, and even she feels terrified of the boy right in front of her.

Not just that. The calm yet eerie smile on Mizuki's features, the way the light seems to cast his face in an unsettling shadow, the gentle and borderline pacifying tone of his voice despite the damage he has done all on his own - all a sharp contrast to the seemingly bright and innocent boy he seemed to be mere moments earlier. She could've sworn she saw the silhouette of what seemed to be a large, jellyfish-like abomination eclipsing Mizuki for a brief second, but maybe that's just her fear talking.

"I would suggest listening to Mizuki." The Doctor replied, maintaining her cool facade. But Ryeomae could hear the slight change in the inflections of her voice, the slightest tremors creeping its way into her words - a sort of threatening contralto. "Wouldn't want him to completely destroy you now, do we?"

And it was at this moment that Ryeomae realized:

Perhaps these people's struggles were infinitely harsher than her own.

~

Not long after the skirmish, Leviathan found a way to transport the Terrans back to their home world - a revelation that brought much relief to the Terran trio. As far as the demons and the human were concerned, the three Rhodes Island personnel had their own wars to fight, most if not all requiring the assistance of the Doctor. With many unfamiliar terms such as "Seaborn threat", "Londinium Crisis", "the Damazti Cluster's spies", and more, Ryeomae can't help but wonder just how the Doctor was able to handle everything without breaking down.

It made her feel insignificant, in a way. Here she was, a defenseless human, whose only value she actively provides for the demons is the ability to break the pacts her late ancestor had formed with them. Sure, sometimes the demon kings defer to her to organize attacks, but even then she tended to lose sight of most sneak attacks. Dr. Requiescat's tips were necessary for her to be able to control the battlefield, she believes, but the fact that she even needed those tips in the first place...

It didn't help that the trio revealed several more bombshells about Dr. Requiescat after their skirmish with Gabriel, quickly leaving the area while the angel was still immobilized. She's an amnesiac, for one, and she was immediately forced into a commander role the moment she awakened from a coma. When the Doctor was out of earshot, Logos revealed, rather regretfully, that he never wanted to see the Doctor enter the battlefield, didn't want her to walk the bloody path of war ever again. But the reality still stands that she never had a choice to begin with, and he's infinitely grateful that her memories were locked behind the amnesia.

"I do not think she would be able to forgive herself if she were to remember the atrocities she had to commit prior to her amnesia." Logos smiled wryly, sadly gazing at the Doctor as she inspected the portal that would take the three Rhodes Island personnel back to Terra.

Ryeomae counts herself lucky that her life hadn't been filled with such cruelty and bloodshed. And ironically, unbeknownst to Logos, the statement eased the feeling of insignificance in her heart - her life was relatively more peaceful prior to everything, so it's perfectly fine to not be as prolific as the Doctor. Because the Doctor, despite her medical background, had her hand forced to become what seemed to be a truly despicable figure, all in order to achieve the things she and her faction sought to achieve.

Ryeomae should have been disgusted, yet she feels nothing but sympathy for Logos and the Doctor.

Not long after the two were reacquainted, Logos gave the Doctor a bottle of his own hand-crafted aromatics, made for her and only her. She uses it sparingly, keeping the bottle close to her at all times. He had already given several bottles to her prior to her amnesia, he revealed with a tiny, yet melancholic smile on his lips.

Ryeomae couldn't help the feeling that the Doctor meant so much more to the Banshee than she initially believed, with the reverse holding true if the Doctor's tiny gestures of affection were to be believed. A gentle hand on his shoulders, the subtlest hints of fondness as she gazes at him. Even in her amnesiac state, she still remembers the emotions, the affections she held for Logos.

It's as beautiful as it is tragic.

So, Logos's parting words for Ryeomae are this: for her to cherish the people she loves and the time as well as memories she has with them, as you do not know if they'll be ripped away from you without any prior notice. Ryeomae's eyes linger at Leviathan at his reminder, recalling the twisted yet somehow endearing methods he employed to get her to stay by his side - the initial threats and kidnapping, turning into her gradual acclimation towards Hades and the demon king of envy.

But deep inside, her heart lies with the man who became her lifeline after her parents' untimely deaths - Kim Minhyeok, who was surely waiting for her back on Earth, who was still worrying his ass off over her despite being worlds away from her.

With Minhyeok in mind, she decides to take Logos's parting words to heart.

Mizuki remains a mystery to Ryeomae, but one thing remains certain - the kid must've been some sort of Eldritch being from the deep sea, which would explain how Leviathan was able to access his world in the process. Yet nothing about how Mizuki normally carries himself reminds her of a monster, what with his bright smiles and genuine care for the Doctor. His constant reminders for the Doctor to take her medicine, making sure the Doctor is away from most harm, fighting beside Logos to keep her safe...perhaps he has seen the Doctor as an elder sister figure, someone who he wants to keep safe and well. Again, something that Ryeomae wouldn't even dare to expect from an Eldritch being, seeing as most of her experiences with Eldritch beings come from the monsters Leviathan summons from his coffins - terrifying, savage beasts capable of ripping through enemies with impunity. His parting words were a bright and energetic reminder to keep fighting for what is right, yet another confusing part about the boy. Of course, she would take his words to heart, but how can an Eldritch being be such a paragon of justice?

She doesn't feel like it's necessary to question it, however.

And finally, the Doctor, who already feels like an elder sister to her. All gentle smiles and knowing looks, she ruffles Ryeomae's hair affectionately and tells her to keep her advice close to her. That Ryeomae will succeed, and she will return to Earth all safe and sound, because she has good and strong allies that are willing to fight for what they believe is right. All they need is a gentle push from her, and they can achieve what they set out to achieve in the first place, whatever it may be.

"You have influence here. Use it well." The Doctor nods in the demons' direction. Barbatos catches her gaze, and he grins brightly in her direction. Seems like he enjoys the Doctor's more laidback personality, and Ryeomae had the same sentiments as him. "You told me you have someone to return to, and that the demons all genuinely do care for you. So fight for them, to complete your deal and repay their care for you. Fight, and return to the one you want to return to. Your home."

Ryeomae has to wonder if, truly, the Doctor really was an amnesiac. The way she talked had weight, a flicker of seniority despite her seemingly youthful features. Yet she was easygoing - certainly not to the point of abandoning her post like Beelzebub, but easygoing nonetheless. She seemed a lot like Satan, in a sense, yet she was always in full control of her emotions, masterfully wielding them to her own gain. There is simply no way someone who had so few memories of their life could speak in such a way, behave in such a manner.

Oh well. No time to ponder, as Leviathan announces that the portal is ready. Mizuki beams as he rushes over towards the portal, while both Logos and Dr. Requiescat trail behind him, all quiet murmurs and gentle smiles. The young boy turns around and waves goodbye enthusiastically, while Logos and Ryeomae say their farewells in a much more reserved manner.

"Bye, everyone!"

"Thank you for your hospitality."

"Who knows - there's a chance we might meet again in the future!"

Leviathan, at the very least, doesn't seem too opposed to the idea - a rare sight, considering how he's usually so prone to jealousy. Though perhaps, seeing just how much of an asset the Terrans were to Hades convinced him far more than words could ever serve to do. "So long as you come in support of Hades, we will welcome you with open arms."

The Doctor grins widely before turning towards Logos and Mizuki. "Ready, you two?"

"Ready!"

"Lead the way, Doctor."

Ah, they're really going now- huh?!

For the briefest of moments, while the Terrans hop into the portal, the Doctor's cap lifted from the top of her head, exposing a tiny pair of demon horns. And at the exact same time, a similarly dark, slim demon tail slipped out from beneath her shirt - so well-hidden after all this time.

But before she could call the Doctor back, the portal closed off completely, leaving Ryeomae, Leviathan, Foras, Barbatos, and Glasyalabolas in a shocked stupor.

Barbatos is the first one to recover. "Well...that might explain why she was so willing to help us."

Leviathan collects himself next, frowning contemplatively. "Maybe. Maybe not."

"I agree with His Majesty Leviathan." Foras speaks up next. "The Doctor was a mysterious person, and while she did help us, we never really knew of her true intentions. Was it out of duty? Kindness? Or perhaps, the threat from His Majesty?"

"And don't forget, their land doesn't recognize 'angels' and 'demons' like we do. She's a Sankta, and that Logos person was a Sarkaz." Glasyalabolas added, earning affirmative responses from everyone in the room.

All the while, Ryeomae is silent.

She does feel the kindness emanating from the Doctor throughout the skirmish against Gabriel and his forces, that much is true. It was easy to latch on to the Doctor as a figure worthy to look up to, as the mature yet laid-back Sankta she was. Easily commanding the battlefield, like a chessmaster thinking many steps ahead - yet laid-back when necessary, joking around with everyone around her. Shielding Ryeomae behind her despite not looking like she wields any sort of weapon for self defense.

But the demons have a point, and the Doctor herself is still shrouded in mystery. Sure, she may have acted off the goodness of her own heart, but doesn't that come into odds with how Logos described her, prior to her amnesia? Yet Logos still believes that the Doctor is kind at heart - was he blinded by his emotions, or was he truly being objective? And sure, she may have said she was a Sankta, but weren't demon horns and demon tails the signature features of Sarkaz? Shards of light for wings and a halo, with demon horns and a demon tail...both sets of features on the same person?

Just...who are you, really, Dr. Requiescat?

~

BONUS: a visual representation and brief description of the Doctor and Ryeomae! (neka link here)

1. Dr. Requiescat (Arknights Docsona, real name Luciel. Halo, wings, tail, and Originium crystals not pictured)

Doctor of Rhodes Island, presents herself as a Fallen Sankta due to a lingering sense of guilt, of having wronged someone she cared about back before the sarcophagus. Despite the sarcophagus seemingly resetting her body, in turn clearing her memories and healing her wounds, her Oripathy still remains - nobody knows why. She acts kind and upbeat, but she still questions if that's really her, especially as more and more revelations of her past comes into light. But, after the revelations about her identity (as revealed in Lone Trail), she holds a phrase close to her heart: I am me, just as I always have been.

2. Ryeomae

Solomon's descendant, a 24-year-old young woman who has a degree in literature and is currently working part-time as a barista while looking for a more permanent employment. She lives with Minhyeok, her childhood friend. They both secretly harbor feelings for each other - something her bandmate, friend, and ex Hana-chan easily takes notice of, considering he always sets them up. Both craves and is uncomfortable with the demons' overwhelming care and attention towards her.

(honestly they could really pass off as twins if not for the fallen sankta features the doctor has and their different colored eyes)

[so-many-ocs]

hi hello how on earth do you start on a new concept??? now that i've finished and am in the process of publishing my first novel i literally have. no brain. no thoughts head empty.

like i can think of a premise, i can think of the major complication, but from there onwards i find myself unable to flesh out anything. and these are ideas i love, too! it's frustrating :<

i've definitely been here before, and it can be a tough place to get out of, but don't lose hope!

let's talk brainstorming

there are a few ways to go about this:

create a bulleted list of all the things you know you want in your story.

under each idea or “problem,” elaborate with potential solutions and outcomes. try to think of the “coolest” option or the one you would enjoy writing more (you can refine ideas later!)

use these as opportunities to create more conflict throughout the story

freewrite scenarios based on the information you already have. see how conflict might emerge based on these ideas. keep the scenes that have potential, refine or discard the ones that don’t. 

make a mind map, starting with what you have and working your way out into smaller branches.

generally speaking, i’d start broad and narrow your ideas down until you can fine-tune the details. what setting best suits your premise? what kind of people might live there? what made those people the way they are? how are they at odds with each other or their setting? et cetera, et cetera, until you have an idea of what to write.

you can look into different plot structures, as many of them provide a description for each “beat” of the plot and give you rough guidelines to work with. if you’re not big on plot structures, try summarizing your ideas in greater and greater detail.

when i’m really stuck, i go to prompt websites. a lot of them have character prompt generators, and, even if i don’t necessarily like what the website comes up with, i can at least use it as a jumping-off point for fleshing out different ideas. 

mostly, though, focus on beginning with something general and getting more specific as you go. coming up with a whole new book idea can be intimidating; it’s much more manageable if you break it down into chunks or stages. for me, the stages are as follows: brainstorming the premise > brainstorming the plot > rough outline (goes over the main “beats” of the story) > main outline (revised version of the rough outline with more info on potential conflicts) > scene cards (i create a “writing prompt” of sorts with a brief overview of what i want to happen for each scene, what conflict needs to be resolved, etc).

take it one step at a time, divide your task into stages, and don’t get frustrated with yourself for the slow parts of the process. trust that you can figure it out.

i hope this was helpful! best of luck, and happy writing!

[tobiasdrake]

We have successfully destroyed our planet's ability to regulate its climate. Onward to the Clockwork Concierge! And glory!

There he is. Holy shit, that does look like something Watchmaker would design. Alright, let's fuck him up with our strongest techniques:

Dragon flame, which doesn't need anything special added to it because it's fucking dragon fire! And, of course, my signature move:

Ninja Twirly-Doos! That's right, asshole; I'm a human buzzsaw pressed against your fucking heart! Which you probably shouldn't actually have and I bet this is actually the Fleshmancer shit that's corrupting you.

Woo! That was trivially easy!

Let's focus on the good: Saving you from a demon curse. And not on the bad, which is what we did to the Skylands on our way over here. I'm about 60% sure I destroyed the ozone layer in the process of kicking your ass. Buuuuuut I'm sure you've got that covered.

Oh, cool. So this is going to be, like, the Key of Harmony? Key of Diligence? Discipline?

...gross way to categorize that, but I'll take it nonetheless. With that, there's only one Note left to find.

And I'm going to need Artificer's help getting it.

But first, gotta wingman for my boy Manfred here. Come on, bruh. You're never gonna get another chance like this. Shoot your shot!

YOU DID IT BRO!

I am so fucking happy for you! Your father... grandfather... ancestor to an ambiguous degree would be proud of you this day.

Don't see the problem there; His vocabulary is fucking refined as shit. Just like mine. ^_^

You already achieved your life's dream, Manfred. No need to suck up to the writers now.

But yes, it was pretty awesome.

It's time. It's finally time. I've broken every single Power Seal on Mesa Island and a few that were not. What do you have for me, my precious!?

...

I'm a little disappointed. I barely use shurikens as it is. But we'll give it a try.

Oh! You had the Money Wrench!? Fuck, if I'd known that I would have had the Money Sink up and running a long time ago.

Gimme. Gimme gimme gimme gimme gimme.

YES

I need something to do with all these Time Shards now that there's nothing to spend them on! I crave the opportunity to dump them pointlessly down a hole and watch them go jingle jangle.

...wow, I'm glad I didn't promise to return it. Holy shit, what a cheaply made tool.

So that's why they call it Money Wrench. It's from an era where planned obsolescence had gotten so bad that products purposefully disintegrated as soon as they'd been used once. I'm sure it was a gold mine for the manufacturer.

I paid 3,491 Time Shards for this.

I feel so used.

[thessalian]

Thess vs Important Side Quests

Playing a little bit of catch-up.

YESTERDAY

Back to base. I guess there are worse ways to wake up than morning coffee and cutscenes.

Aww. Erend. You and Kotallo are getting along. (No, really; you are. You would know if you weren't; trust me.)

One thing I've been asking - and I don't know if I can ask GAIA about ... I mean, we have reasonable prosthetics even in our now; they must be better in this version of the future, if they can create whole machine creatures. Can we not ... get ... Kotallo a prosthetic arm, or something? If he wants one?

Varl and Zo are so cute. ...Okay, who's gonna die?

No, but seriously, Varl ... you can't just tell someone to throw out their gods and build new ones. We will fix their gods.

Hi, GAIA. Here's AETHER. How're we doing on--?

Beta. I ... kind of get why everyone's a little side-eyeing you, but I guess the person who finds the "this will not work" in every plan does help refine the plan. Still, could you please give some positives--?

Ah. Okay. Yes. Thank you. No, don't worry, I can can deal with the Quen. I made friends with the Tenakth, didn't I?

...Can we? Now? Fix the land-gods?

YES!

Ah, Kotallo already asked about prosthetics! Great! I will definitely help with that!

Side quests ahoy but with all the cutscene, I don't have a lot of time. So over to Cinnabar Sands to free a land-god.

Aaaaaaaand hunting. No big.

...Is ... is that Burrower literally hiding from me? Instead of the other way around? It will not come out from behind that rock. Oh well. Climb rock. Silent STRIKE. And done.

(Like, literally; need to get to work.)

TODAY

Right. To that little pond where I did sort of free that land-god, but before I had the reboot code--

Aaaaaaaaand there's a Snapmaw.

...You know what? Fuck it. C'MON AND FIGHT ME, YOU MECHANICAL PAIN IN MY ASS!

And ... you will ... apparently stay in the water while I POONK all your weak spots. Win!

I'm loving the little bits of lore Zo's giving about the festivals to the various land-gods. I'm a sucker for world-building.

Aaaand over to Plainsong and-- Huh. Fane. Hi. Ah, dumping seed pouches from Kel and her apprentice because they can't be allowed to grow in Plainsong again. Sucks, but I can see the necessity.

Hi, Zo. I know, finally, right? I've been waiting to do this for ages and--

...Awwwwww. This is ... actually really beautiful. And I like the whole thing where ... I guess Elizabet Sobeck insisted that GAIA (and by extension the subfunctions) be ... at least somewhat human. GAIA didn't just build machines, but machines that look like creatures, because ... c'mon, wouldn't we? We anthropomorphise everything anyway. And if the Plowhorn land-gods have to have a reboot sequence? Have it sing; why not? Utilitarianism isn't the be-all and end-all, and what's life without a little joy, even in the supposedly utilitarian things?

Right. Onward to helping Kotallo pick up prosthetics bits.

If he decides he prefers the challenge of only having the one arm, I ... will respect his choice but be a little miffed at having to fight Spectres and things for him.

...Then again, I wouldn't want him to feel obligated to keep it if he's uncomfortable with it, even if I did go to a lot of trouble.

Right. I'mma let him go back to Base and ponder. Thornmarsh or Tide's Reach? Thornmarsh or Tide's Reach?

*checks quest log*

Thornmarsh. I have hints of issues in Thornmarsh, but no actual quest. I at least want the quest active in my journal.

Hrm. Poisoned water. I have time.

Dam made of machines, and more rebels? Gods, where do they all come from? I took out so many camps!

Climbiiiiiiiing...

Hangiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing... Stupid Fireclaw.

Right. Fireclaw goes first.

Oh, pity's sake, I am standing right here, rebels. Does my hair blend into the yick in the river? What.

Theeeeeere we go.

Well. All of this is just plain gross. Rebels are assholes.

Teamwork! ...And I can boot up my work machine while I wrap stuff up!

I ... don't even have time to check what my reward for this was; I gotta get to work fast!

Right. Yes. Worktime. Ugh, they've left the long shit for me again. I hate my colleagues.

[theofficersacademy]

The dust has scarce settled following the Elementals taking their leave, but it turns out they’ve left behind one final gift for all of Garreg Mach:

A wondrous, illusory portal with the ability to take one to a world of make-believe where one’s imagination is the limit...

The catch? It only works for short periods of time, after which it will require a long pause between uses in order to fully recharge. The church, of course, already has the perfect use in mind for it. Now that they’ve no projectionist to launch them into the world of illusion, they are wanting for some manner in which to continue the tradition of these oft useful arena bouts.

Will you join the fray?

(... It’s completely optional, of course! I’m sure your grades & pay aren’t lacking for any extra credit... right...)

Welcome to another Arena! This will be a mini-event beginning June 16th that will allow members of the Officers Academy to test weapons and combat builds for their characters without the constraint of current masteries and skill ranks. As always, one of our goals with this event is to check that weapons and abilities work as designed, and to catch anything that might need further refinement before our next big event in August. It’s unlikely that we’ll catch everything that should be fixed, but there’s nothing wrong with a test run! As a thank you for helping us, there is one skill point waiting for anyone who participates, as long as your muse isn’t disqualified for inactivity!

How this event will work:

Sign up your muse here. Every muse will start with access to two pieces of equipment at D rank or lower, Beginner class mastery, or an event team prize. Please look at our Combat Manual or the Rank Chart to select your equipment.

You will also select one beginner class to start with, which will automatically grant your muse its class mastery ability without taking up an inventory slot. You can still choose other class masteries for your other two inventory slots if you would like, but whatever you choose for your class will influence whether or not your muse takes effective damage from certain weapons. Please note that if you should not select the class mastery as one of your equipment slots. For example, if you choose Myrmidon as your muse’s starting class, do NOT select Speed+ as one of your starting equipment. It will already be granted to you.

Combat arts do not take up an inventory slot and can be equipped permanently to ONE weapon per inventory selection. If you decide to have your muse bring an Iron Sword, they can also equip the combat art Wrath Strike, but if they also choose to bring a Steel Sword for their second inventory slot, Wrath Strike will only be allowed to be used with the Iron Sword until inventories are re-selected for the next round.

All participating muses will be randomized into teams of 4 or 5. Your teams will not be competing against each other at any point.

Your enemies will get stronger as you move through the tiers. But so will you! As you conquer each tier, your muse slowly unlocks access to higher-level weapons, abilities, and class skills. From the second battle onwards, you will have a chance to adjust your inventory as much as you’d like to be prepared for the next enemy or to simply try out a different build.

All dice rolls must be made in the TOA server using Dice Maiden. Each team will have their own thread to make dice rolls in and to message each other about arena threads or anything else pertaining to their specific team. This event is one where you will need to be in the server for rolling and communication purposes, but rest assured that this is only for the event and will never be required outside of it.

Lastly, the theme of this arena will be Shields and Breaks! The mod team intends to design enemies that will hurt, and will have a high KO rate. To balance this, muses who were KO’d at the end of their last battle will be automatically revived at 50% HP for the start of the next round if their team makes it through.

Signups will close at 11:59PM EST on June 15th so that we have time to sort teams. Let us know if you have any questions! Additionally, we will be taking volunteers to help us put together the combat documents and double-check team math each round. If interested, please fill out this form.

- The House Leaders

[third-half]

2023 Self Check

Honestly, having an overall middling year where most of my troubles were my brain’s fault was kind of a breath of fresh air. Being out of commission for most of last year with a fucked up knee at least got me thankful every morning I can get up and walk around without a brace or cane. I don’t really agree with the doctors and my Dad that I’m “young” but I’m apparently still young enough I can heal. That said, I’m kind of let down in myself for letting depression and laziness get the best of me like, worse than usual this year. It hit kind of hard when sitting back and going through old archives of content and realizing that:

Sketch-A-Day was 2015 Eishi and Dixie was before that Revolver Knight ran from 2005-2008 or 2009

Meaning I’d basically failed to really deliver on any of the series/game/etc ideas I’d pitched from 2016 onward with the arguable exception of the dungeon crawler card game’s first version. If anyone was curious as to whether I’d touched on some of that stuff in the meantime the status of my Things right now is:

Angel Dust (The Gatty Thing)- Pretty much axed, as much as I love the character, it was kind of turning into edge for edge’s sake. The thing about Gatty Ling is I’ve had the idea of an erratic, destructive but adorable and well meaning character kicking around for ages but she’s kind of just a blank slate beyond those traits and I’ve tried to plunk her into like three completely unrelated settings with different origins. I was also attempting to kind of do a distinct art… sub…style with her stuff closer to a moe VN look, really pump up the cute to make the dark stuff pop, but well, Madoka already exists and the last iteration was basically Madoka with Robots. I probably wouldn’t rule it out forever but I’ve kind of been using some bits and pieces of the setting to flesh out the Plane Girls Thing

Revolver Knight Reload- I got like three pages into drawing a complete remake of my old webcomic, but kind of got cold feet from a combination of things. I didn’t think I was ready to take on another gigantic long form story, though I promise that the new version was *MUCH* more refined. Like Gatty, I wouldn’t say it’s *impossible* I mess with this, but I think I might look into something closer to a light novel with spot illustrations than a full on comic in the interest of like, finishing before I die.

Critical Heaven (The plane girl thing)- Still active, but having a bit of an identity crisis. It began as a ‘skirmish’ tabletop wargame then I got to thinking about it as more of a shmup-inspired duel game. The format of tabletop/print is also kind of iffy because I know people would be more likely to play it digitally and I have like, zip experience putting a substantial game project together. There’s also a more or less complete ‘campaign’ jotted half in my head and half in my notepad (putting it in a game with multiple endings would save me from deciding which ending to give it, hmmm.) But in short, yeah this is still being picked at.

Irrgarten (The Dungeon Card Thing)- I know I lead off with kind of the downer limbo thing but I’ve actually not totally abandoned this, definitely not the setting. Surprise, Radona is from this world! Really, I could probably bring this back pretty easily by revising the original game rules, the biggest issue we ran into play testing was that items didn’t ‘feel’ very valuable- characters were strong enough on their own not to need them. Maybe I can bump this up in priority.

There are probably other story ideas I’ve mentioned over the years and not followed up on, but characters from axed stuff do tend to surface in other projects if I’m attached enough to them. If there are any particular things that you enjoyed my work in or reading about in the past, do let me know. I’ve had a hard time motivating myself, so a nudge wouldn’t be a bad thing about now. Next year, I would really like to put more effort into having a regular “thing” to work on, maybe I’ll bring back some gag comics. Definitely plan to do more drawing in general because drawing one decent thing then going radio silent for two weeks leads to needing to de-rust like, every time. I’m a creature very vulnerable to inertia.

So, no promises here, but my goals going into 2024:

Put some time into practicing more ‘dynamic’ content like simple animation and game design since I have like three game making programs sitting around

Regular art posting, with a focus on improving quality and speed

Minding my health more since it’s easier to be active when there’s less of me to move

Establish a more regular streaming schedule since it helps me trim down my backlog

This kind of turned into more navel gazing than I had planned to be doing, but I thought this was a good time to touch base on some things since I’m back to posting here… well, okay, ‘regularly’ is a stretch, but there are a lot of things I’ve brought up before and not followed up on in a long time. If anyone has still been reading this- thank you, truly. I hope that with a bit more focus and less dwelling on the gnawing darkness in my gut, we can have some fun here again.

Oh, yeah, by the way- also been kicking around a top X games list I may get to posting soon, but may save for New Years Eve.

[galespider]

WARNING: Self harm. Read at your own risk. Fun fact: This was all thought out before the mentioning of traveling to the Thirteenth in patch 6.2! As soon as that patch came out, I was literally freaking out and decided to wait and see what their story had to offer. And boy was I excited to refined Luze’s story!

[FFXIV Luze’s Background Part 3] I remember it all like it was yesterday. My life as a Memoriate, the slow descending destruction of my homeworld ... And my brother becoming one of those accursed creatures from the Void.  This Thirteenth shard, they had called it, now devoid of life.

I can’t believe that we have reached this far to the point that I never knew we would venture. This place now bereft of light and all life that turned into monstrosities. Here I stand in my world that was once beautiful, now turned into a blackened husk they now call it, The Void. The World of the Thirteenth that had succumbed to darkness.

It all started with that map we found from a scheming merchant when we heard about this grand legendary vault. We managed to find such a place and made our way through the contraptions that bar our path. We had thought it was just mere gold and shining glory for all who had suffered from The Final Days.

When we reached towards the final room of the Vault, I had felt something amiss. That familiar feeling swept through me when we all gazed upon a great golden structural urn embroided in vivid colored sashes wrapped around it. I felt an unusual evil presence within these lavish quarters of color and shimmering gold. And I wasn’t mistaken by it. The Satrap, Varshahn, suddenly appeared behind us and warned us about our trespassing while scolding us for destroying his mechanical guardians who roamed to protect something more than just coins and valuables.

I on the other hand couldn’t keep my gaze off from that Urn high upon the stairs and asked him what he was hiding underneath those colorful veils that surrounded the lid. He had revealed it to us nevertheless, much to his dismay. ... And I couldn’t believe what I had saw. That Urn didn’t hold the greatest treasures an eye would want to see. But rather, something far more sinister and unexpected. A gate to the Void itself.

Varshan proceeded to tell us his story on why he had hid such a dangerous vortex far down below in the seas. Everything that transpired, how the world was attacked by Voidsent. How he lost a precious family member amidst the blackened world. It was all too familiar to me from my own past.

I was a Memoriate much like Zero, soldiers who were able to seal eidolons within a violet crystal. I had joined my brother in the ranks and we fought side by side, inseparable and synchronized. Sometimes we would come to other soldiers in need of our assistance. When I was just starting out, he was the one to defend me whenever I was in trouble. I was never as strong as he was. However, I still had looked up to him, just like how Varshahn looked up to his beloved older sibling, Azdaja. He was my only family member ... We fought long and hard to defend those close to us. But even with that much effort, it wasn’t enough.

The intense power that kept leaking out of the crystals oozed out like spirits from beyond the grave and corrupted those who came in contact with the flawed memoria crystals. Days passed which seems to have felt like a millennia. Abominable creatures continue to rise in numbers. We kept pushing them back only to be outnumbered again and again. Soldiers from left and right lost their sanity with each corruption that were entered through them. We sharpened our blades whenever we have a moment of respite in our encampments.  It kept going. It didn’t seem like it would stop. And so we fought onward until our legs couldn’t bare to stand any longer. Until that tragic day ...

My brother and I were surrounded and there was no hope for us. Our backs touching each other, jaws clenched, fists turned white as we held our weapons.  A creature was brave enough to suddenly lunge at us and my brother struck it down. Another came in, this time, I struck it down. Another. Then another. And another. We were almost out of breath. 

Then, as soon as I let my guard down, a giant voidsent came through the crowd and barely struck me as I rose my blade to defend from his attack. But it was strong enough to knock me down to the ground. That damn creature.  Claws were elongated, insatiable for blood. Its jaws were dislocated and black liquid substances poured out from hunger. It came to me once more, claws raised as I froze and closed my eyes shut. ... How I wish I had kept my eyes closed.

Multiple screams were heard. One of them that belonged to my brother. I had remembered my eyes opening back up again, only to see that my brother was struck at his chest. His armor torn opened by those demonic claws. Yet, that creature that struck him began to stagger backwards and gurgle at its throat being sliced opened by my brother’s greatsword. The giant fell backwards with a deafening thud and turned into a memoria crystal, while my brother struggled to balance himself as he stabbed his greatsword to the ground and held on to it, clenching his wounds. The crowd of voidsents screeched and wailed. It sounded like a chorus for a dead loved one. Each and every one of them evacuated and ran away from what I can assume would be their deceased commander.

I remembered running towards my brother, holding onto his wounds while I poured my effort to heal him. It was for naught. The wounds weren’t closing fast enough, and I remembered the struggle he had from the pain seeping through every vein in his body. The pain began to emerge excruciatingly as he yelled.  He pushed me back from what strength he had left and clenched his head.  “Stay away from me! Save yourself!” He screamed. And those final whispered words I heard before every fiber of his being disappeared. I love you.

Black fog formed and surrounded him, engulfing him like a ghastly voidsent claiming a victim. I felt powerless as I sat there, my whole body couldn’t move again as I saw his final moments. This isn’t happening ... ! I had thought to myself.

Wings jutted out from the foggy orb and a tail much like a distorted dragon merged like an eggshell that cracked. Claws large enough as the creature that struck him slammed the ground like thunder. He had now became one of them. No ... No! This isn’t happening at all!! My eyes were wide opened in disbelief. He came for me as the same manner from those blasted voidsent. I felt like I didn’t have a choice when I rose my blade to block every one of his attacks. I remembered crying out desperately, hoping that my voice would reach his ears. It was no use. Nothing would be able to bring him back. 

The creature had enough as he used his full force to jump and dismember me as my balance gave out from desperation. I rose my blade to aim at his heart. Then, I heard screams again. Both coming from us this time. Finally, an eerie silence. 

The creature, my brother laid lifeless on top of me. Glowing particles began to form around him as he disappeared slowly to form a memoria crystal.  I had suffered a wound to the clavicle as I laid there for a moment to recollect what was happening. Everything around me felt like it was fading too fast. Blood streamed down from me as the crimson slipped into the tainted soil. I gasped for air in short breaths. My mind was slipping ever so slowly agonizing and into insanity. My body was now beginning to corrupt, my eyes remained wide opened.

...

I had remembered stumbling and walking for what it seemed to be for miles. No voidesent were in sight to see me press onward to an unknown destination. My sword barely was gripped loosely in my hand. My head hung low, my eyes glazed as blood trickled from my mouth. My shoulder from the wound became numb as my arm dangled with no pulse. I was just a mindless corpse. Everything was stripped away before my very eyes. 

Suddenly, a painful pulse surged through me. I remembered my sword making a loud clang to the ground as I clenched at my wound tightly. I knelt down and struggled to hold the corruption trying to escape my body. I tried to scream but the pain was far too great to strain my throat and all that came out from me were silent screams.  My whole body throbbed as I clenched the ground, clawing at the earth and holding onto anything to sustain my suffering.  It hurts ... It hurts too much ... 

It was at that moment where I had looked towards my blade on the ground. I hadn’t realized that my mind was far from gone. I felt that my body was now taken over by something as I felt my own hand reached out towards my blade.  My hand was shaking violently as I managed to grasp it. 

With what strength that I had left, I held onto my blade tightly enough and turned the point of it towards my heart. My breath came out hysterically as tears streamed down my face. My face curled into a smile. Not as gleefully, but full of regret. Regret, that I wasn’t strong enough. Strong enough to protect those close to me. I can’t ... I won’t be one of them. Brother. I can’t take this anymore! I can’t do this alone! I can’t ... I can’t go on like this ... Wait for me. I-... I will be with you soon.

I held the sword as high as I could.  And all was faded into a darkened void. 

... Or so I had thought. Yet here I am, currently standing tall with two feet, gazing out into the violet black sky. I will never falter again. Not when my friends and my new family are here with me.

...

Now, I had understood why Hydaelyn gave me a second chance. That fading light I saw when I opened my eyes into a realm of crystal shards and hearing Her speak Her sorrowful song. Though vague in detail when I first encountered Her, years and years later I came to find out Her true reason. She had hope for people in Etheirys and I was one of them that She had saved to serve as one of Her champions along with the Warriors of Light.  I was to become the guiding light amidst the darkness. To show unwanted Echoes that can save lives and give other people the second chance that they have all deserved like how I was given one. Though there are times where I failed, traveling with my companions was enough for me to push onward and share my struggles with them.  All my years that I have stayed within Old Sharlayan, my relationship with the Leveilleur family, and now my traveling companions as my close friends, I will continue to walk forward with my clipped wings through the Darkness of the Void.

I am not alone anymore, brother. I will keep holding on to you in my memories alongside them.

I love you.

[blazingstaro]

DotS Update: March Edition!

Apologies for the lack of post activity lately! Came down sick with real bad allergies this past week (hay fever? Maybe a head cold? Not sure, can't afford to see a doctor), which followed a migraine that reeaaaally overstayed its welcome. Good news: no more light sensitivity, yay! Bad news: My head is more stuffed than a jalapeño popper, and just as deep-fried

I've had a post on DotS' Dark Meta Knight in drafts for a long while, so I've decided to post it for you all! Give you guys a little tasty something to chew on while I work on some more stuff! Not sure why I hadn't posted it sooner other than possibly just straight up forgetting XD Sorry about that!!

While I've been down from my sinuses going on strike, I continue to work on a lot of changes to my comic! I've been working on simplifying my style to ebb a little closer to how it was in the beginning, but more refined and streamlined. It'll still be real pretty (especially in important panels 👀), just easier for me to whip out. I realize I had burned myself out a year ago because I was putting too much detail into things that really didn't need it, and started falling back into my perfectionist habits.

Like hey, professional comics are stuffed with lazy and quick lines, and it still looks great, so why should I try to conform myself to printing out extremely high quality art every single page? I'm not trying to set a standard or prove anything, I'm just telling a story and sharing it omg

I started this comic for fun, and fun I shall have! It'll still look great for you guys, I won't be terribly lazy with it; I'll just have a more streamlined approach now, and will have predominantly cell shading rather than my signature soft-cell style ouo/

Behind the scenes, I've been playing around with some ideas revolving a certain character, and it's been giving me a lot of practice with comics, since it's been so long. Getting me back in the mind and grind of churning out page after page, sketch-wise, and helping me get back in touch with my root skills.

I'll be sure to share some examples here later, once I've done some full colored trials with this, see what you guys think!

I will probably no longer do colored text from here onward in my comic pages, mainly because it's a hassle to manage (it's pretty time consuming as well). However I'm pretty skilled at directing dialogue, so it should never be a question as to whom is speaking on any page. ouo7

On one final note, a certain official Kirby character has stolen my heart and wormed their way into among my top favorites, nevertheless stole a spot in my story AAAAAA (I understand the appeal now omg)

You guys might be able to guess, but I'll post a confession after this news blurb LOL

I can't stop drawing this funny lil' guy

This has consumed my life entirely and there's no signs of stopping

h e l p

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