#just imagine historians scratching their heads

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine Shanks turning into a cat

Benn: supposedly the ruins are guarded by some sort of shapeshifting enchanter.

Shanks: I heard that and asked the locals at the bars and the marketplace, and they said there hasn't been a sighting of the creature in a few hundred years. But they all told me that no one has gone up there in a long time because they avoid it.

You: then is it really a good idea to go there?

Shanks: meh, [waggles his hand side to side] We'll probably be fine.

You: ... count me out, I don't want to risk it.

Benn: you'll lose your cut of any treasure we find.

You: that's fine, I'll look after the ship with Hongo while y'all go into the creepy ruins. [watches them leave]

The next morning

You: [wakes up from someone pounding on your door]

Hongo: [yells on the other side of the door] Wake the fuck up! We have an emergency, we need all hands on deck.

You: [follows him up on deck to see the group that went to explore the ruins looking winded, tired, and dirtier than usual.] What on Earth is going on? What happened?

Benn: The villagers were right, we shouldn't have gone there to attempt to claim the treasure.

You: sounds about right

Benn: Although they were wrong about one thing, the sorcerer wasn't a shape-shifter himself. He changes other people's shapes.

You: oh gods, who got changed?

Benn: [pulls a large Somali cat out of his pack and holds him at arm's length.] Guess

You: ... is that... the boss?

Benn: [does that lipless awkward white-people smile and nods his head]

You: [takes the cat into your arms] Is he lucid?

Shanks: [thoroughly enjoying the scratches he's getting, and purring up a storm]

Benn: No idea, he's been like this for only two hours, most of which I spent running. But Yassop and Lucky Roux are in the village looking for anyone to help us, so we'll have more information soon.

Shanks: [meows loudly, and clings to your shoulder when you try to put him down]

Hongo: as a cat, he's a real mama's boy.

An hour later when Yassop and Lucky Roux return

Yassop: So we found the village historian lady, who had some information for us. She said that he is a cat for all intents and purposes. He can understand us, though, which should make it easier. She showed a scroll from three hundred years ago, detailing how a bandit robbed the ruins of its treasures. For which the sorcerer changed him into some animal, forget which one, but that's not the important part. The important part is that to undo the spell, we must take the treasure back to the ruins and put it back where we found it.

Shanks: [decides this is a great time to ask for food, and makes a chewing noise with this mouth to let you know.]

You: [rolls your eyes and puts him down] Not to interrupt, but Lucky, is there any canned chicken in the kitchen?

Lucky Roux: yeah

You: Alright, follow me, captain. [goes into the kitchen and starts prepping his food]

Shanks: [meowing at you and standing up with his front paws on the cabinet door]

You: [meowing back condescendingly] You know what? I hope that old lady was right, and you still understand me, just so you know I'm mocking you.

Shanks: [bites your foot]

You: OW, fuck you [puts the plate of food on the floor and goes back out on deck] soon as that little shit is done eating, take him and the treasure straight back before he has another chance to bite me.

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[archangeldyke-all]

Imagine flashing Sevika on FaceTime LMAOOO

Im just think of the most hilarious thing, you do it once and she’s like “🤨🤨 did u just flash me” and you’re like “no wtf. Ur crazy” do it a second time and she’s so persistent but so are you and then she lets it go. A third time and she’s like “you know what.” And 20 minutes later she’s at your door LMFAO

SUGARR asdlfjasl;djfa;ldsj

men and minors dni

no cause the first time it's a genuine accident. you guys are just chatting and hanging out on FT, sevika's doing house chores and you're getting dressed.

you forget you've got your phone propped up on your dresser as you change out of your shirt and pull another one over your head.

sevika's been quiet for the past ten minutes, the two of you just liking having the other there while you're doing boring shit, so she startles you when she suddenly talks.

"babe... you just flashed me." she says with a smirk. you jump and run over to your phone, giggling.

"whoops!" you say. "forgot you were there." you say, laughing and scratching the back of your head.

but when you see sevika's reaction, a smirk on her lips and her pupils dialating... you can't stop thinking about it.

so twenty minutes later, while you're cooking up lunch in the kitchen and sevika's on your phone, by the stove, you wait until she's looking at the phone and then look away, pretending to be distracted while you pull your shirt hem up to 'wipe your brow,' exposing your tits in the process.

sevika lets out an disbelieving laugh. "babe!" she exclaims. you blink back at her, innocently.

"what?" you ask. she scoffs.

"you flashed me again!" she says, a grin on her lips. you giggle.

"oh, shit, sorry." you say with a shrug, not sorry in the slightest.

sevika starts to get suspicious then, but she doesn't say anything.

you try again an hour later, while you're on your bed, watching sevika play video games on her couch.

"i'm gonna take a nap." you say over the line. sevika's eyes flick back to her screen, and she gasps as you pull your shirt over your head to get 'comfortable for your nap.'

"you're such a bitch!" she exclaims, laughing. you giggle.

"what?!" you ask. she shakes her head at the screen, rising from her couch.

"take your fuckin' nap." she says. "bye."

the screen goes black, and you laugh to yourself, satisfied that you've sufficiently flustered your girlfriend.

you fall asleep quickly, all your dreams of sevika, and you wake up confused thirty minutes later when there's a pounding at your door.

you tug your shirt on and wander into the living room, tugging your door open, only to burst into laughter when a you reveal a flustered sevika on the other side of the door.

"did you rest?" she asks as she pushes past you and into your home. you giggle as you close the door behind her. she pins you to the door.

"was in the middle of a pretty good dream about you, actually, 'til you interrupted it." you say, grinning at your girlfriend. she growls.

"fucker." she grumbles. you grin. "you're not goin' back to sleep until i'm done with you." she says, her hands coming up to grip your hips. you giggle.

"perfect." you say. sevika raises an eyebrow at you, and you shrug. "my plan worked!" you giggle.

she groans and flicks your forehead, before swooping in to press her lips against yours.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess

[danganronpa96]

How does Latte Cookie feel about the participants so far?

I’m not sure if you mean everyone who’s currently alive or the entire cast, but I’ll do the latter because we gotta give our cookie queen some attention

Walter -> She saw him as a reliable leader at first, someone who would be able to lift everyone’s spirits up with his plan. Of course, when his true intentions came to light, she felt immensely disappointed and betrayed. Still, she would’ve liked to have learned more about his time as a teacher.

Hiroshi -> As a student, Latte was impressed with his academic intelligence. She wanted to encourage him to be more social, however, despite his inward nature. She still strongly believes that Nesos is at fault for pressuring him to commit murder.

Retsuko -> She found Retsuko very cute at first by her small appearance, but did get concerned by her surprisingly unhealthy habits. Latte wishes she could’ve talked to her more, perhaps inviting her to the cafe to chat more about their lives.

Kaidou -> (oh… oh dear) Latte would never admit to bias out loud, but Kaidou did have a special place in her heart very quickly. She always saw his imaginative mind as a healthy proof of his creativity (and sort of also assumed he wanted to be a hero like some of her other cookie students). She still blames herself from time to time about not being there for him when things got tough during the 2nd motive, and misses him a lot.

Ena -> Latte always saw Ena in a similar way to her other students, although as a more special case. It was clear Ena still had a lot to learn, and yet could surprise her in terms of things she herself didn’t know about. Latte was never intimidated by Ena’s presence, but despite her confusion at some points, she never wanted to give up on them. This went for their emotions as well. It was upsetting to see them go so soon.

Yuri -> At first, Latte was sure she could read Yuri like a open book (pun intended). A quiet girl who just needed a gentle push in the right direction to expose her full potential. However, past the second trial, Latte was scratching her head at what had just happened. She still does not feel anything that Yuri said was her true beliefs, and that deep down she was still the same sweet girl that just got caught up in something horrible.

Mai -> (oh god… please have mercy on me) What can I say that wasn't already 100% obvious unless you're playing historian. Latte loved Mai a lot, and not just in that way. Her overall outlook on life, her fun ideas to build bonds, her interest in Latte's own life and interests; she really was the ideal other half. Nothing could ever hurt more than seeing those gingerMais. Still, she's trying her best to overcome the grief despite all.

Bojack -> Latte never really approved of Bojack's overall lifestyle (then again, there weren't a whole lot who did). She was just grateful he kept himself away from the students (par Natsuki, but that was more of an exception considering what he did for her). She felt some sorrow for his case, but ultimately decided not to get too involved unless for Jesse's sake.

For these guys, I’ll talk about how she sees them so far (like the ask intends, but as chapter 5 isn’t over yet, I’ll include the chapter 5 victim in the same fashion):

L -> Latte is very impressed by L's wit and skills, and although I've attempted to lightly reference this in the fic before, he reminds her a little of Espresso Cookie. She doesn't necessarily think she relies on him for trials and such too much, however she's grateful he uses his intelligence to help them all investigate further into Nesos rather than stay selfish about it. At least, that's what it looks like in her eyes.

Jesse -> Latte has seen first hand how much Jesse has been through (in terms of those he's lost so far). She does tend to look out for him from time to time (those teacher tendencies kicking in), but tries not to coddle him too much considering his age. She thinks Jesse should be a little more responsible with some habits, considering he tends to spend a lot of time with Natsuki now, but won't overstep her boundaries.

Natsuki -> It was tough seeing Natsuki go through the notions ever since her murder case. Latte is very proud of how Natsuki's dealing with things so far, even taking some of her own advice into account. She also really enjoys Natsuki's baking, and hopes she continues to bake more in the future despite what set her back (and perhaps join her for another baking session).

Saiki -> As he is Kaidou's friend, Latte has always felt sorrow for how Saiki has been dealing with things since the second case. She's happy how he's manage to come more out of his shell as of late, but wishes he could speak up more because she can tell he has a lot of potential despite his mysterious demeanor.

Brian -> Latte sees Brian as a good person who tries his best despite his clumsiness. She's very curious about his role as a witch-hunter, but ever since their small talk about it, she's only gotten more questions on why he doesn't recognise her descriptions of the witch.

Kurumada -> At first, Latte wasn't a fan of Kurumada's brutish and brash nature. However, she's now warmed up to him after seeing more of why he acts this way, especially after Mai's death. She can tell how much he works to make Hayasaka as comfortable as possible at any moment, being during a murder case or a normal day. They both share a want to help avenge Mai's will.

Hayasaka -> Latte finds Hayasaka a delight to talk to, by proxy of her connection towards Mai, but is also appreciative of what he tries to do for the group in trials and such. She notices how much he tends to look out for younger members of the group (i.e. Saiki) and wonders if he bares some secret parental tendencies deep down. She hopes he could open up more, after seeing what he said during their time at the arcade.

[morganali-art]

I decided to sit down and sketch out all my WoLs (not including like, six other joke characters that I have) and I have come to the conclusion that someone should take the character creator away from me.

I got too many lil guys 😵‍

From left to right...

J'rhota Tia is just a silly orange lad - PGL/ROG main, a scrappy little fight boy. Means well, but very head empty. Constantly getting locked out of the Waking Sands, but unfortunately is the only one who can take down Ifrit without getting tempered.

Amelot Greywoode Lost an eye on one of her adventures - couldn't afford a glass eye to match her good eye at the time, so the one she wears under her eyepatch is slightly off colour. (Highlander, GLD)

Parasha Pasha - Tiniest gorl. Min height lala. My god, she's so small. 🥺💕 Ostensibly mains WAR/DRG, but really is a FSH main.

Sami'ra (Sameth/Bunny) Lavellan - ARC/ROG main, previously a Dragon Age Inquisitor. Yearns to keep the stories of his people as a historian, but in the harsh economic times post-calamity, adventuring better pays the bills and provides for his large extended family. Per his name, he is the youngest son in a Keeper family with an oddly large number of sons. Truth be told, not all are family by blood, though are loved just as well. Sam has quite the crush on a certain Lord Commander.

Cessalie Sombreterre was an orphan of Ishgardian birth, and made her way to Ul'dah at a young age to try and make her way in the world, eventually taking up adventuring. Ostensibly a BLM main, though dabbles in roguery and swordplay. Min height elezen. Amongst her people, she's so leetle 🥺💕 Marries into the Fortemps house.

Hazel Rah is my main lad, first boy I ever made. He was born in the Golmore Jungle. Though he misses his childhood home dearly, he was forever restless, and eventually left - spending some time in Dalamasca and other occupied territories, before travelling to Eorzea in the wake of the calamity. Young for a travelling viera, he's about 70ish years old. Before he came to Eorzea, his forest name was Rjel Fith. He loves to garden.

Clover Frith is Hazel's much older sister - she's around 200, though she's not one to keep count. She left the forest when Hazel was quite young, in his 20s or thereabouts. When they met up again decades later, she was taking work as a gleaner in Sharlayan. Though her forest name is long left behind, her last name was Fith.

Blackavar Rehw-Dvre was Hazel's childhood sweetheart. In my headcanons, he does not leave the forest at all until well after the calamity - the general upheaval and unrest making its way even unto the forest, prompting the Rava people to make the choice to send scouts far from home to investigate. As such, though he is confident in the ways of his home, he is very out of place in the wider world and is often mystified by the ways of outsiders. As far as appearances go, Blackavar actually has quite curly hair - so I imagine his hair is more like the catboy hair both J'rhota and Sam have. Alas, there's no perfect bun options 😞

Holly Huorlwesfv is a veena bunny who I created as a retainer and went "aw fuck, I did it again," and had to turn him into a real boy because I liked him so much. He doesn't yet have a lot of a backstory yet, but I named him after Captain Holly from Watership Downs, and so in my mind he looks quite a bit scrappier than he is. Ears are scratched up and tattered. A few more scars. He's a stoic bun, a former guard most like. Definitely a fighter. PLD main iirc.

Bitter Snow is my beautiful, purple, goth Roe. I did not mean to give her the same name as Yellow Moon's paramour, it happened completely accidentally. 👀💦 She's so pretty, I ought to play her more. Pretty sure she's a DRG main, I cannot recall.

[alephskoteinos]

Disgorging foliate heads as medieval symbols of Christianity

Here's something of a pagan PSA: The Green Man is probably not a pagan symbol or deity.

I probably should have dug into this when that coronation invite was doing the rounds last month, but I reckon now's as good a time as any, as long as it's on my mind.

Don't let the grass horns on that coronation Green Man or decades of modern pop cultural mythology fool you: there's not really anything "pagan" about the Green Man. The idea of the Green Man as a pagan deity or mythological figure has been prevalent in the popular imagination for almost a century now, first proposed by a woman named Lady Ragland in 1939, but while people have made all sorts of connections to various pre-Christian gods, there has never been any evidence of the Green Man as an actual figure of some pre-Christian religion. Instead, the Green Man as we know him was probably actually a figure of medieval Christianity. But even that's only scratching the surface, because even the name "Green Man" itself is just a modern name for a series of faces that appear on medieval churches all over England as well in other parts of Britain and Europe.

Historian Stephen Miller suggests that the more accurate name for this motif is the "disgorging foliate head motif". It's not as catchy or pleasant as "Green Man", I admit, but several church icons do literally look like that.

According to Miller, these heads became part of medieval British Christian iconography after having imported by occupying Normans who came from France. So, in a way, you can probably think of the Green Man as a relic of Norman occuption, originally a French motif brought in by the Normans who invaded and colonized England and Wales before eventually becoming part of British iconography.

As to its religious significance, Miller tells us that it represents a motif from the Quest of Seth (or Legend of the Rood), a set of medieval Christian legends about Seth, the third son of Adam and Eve. The basic legend goes that Adam, on his deathbed, sends Seth out to Paradise to find an elixir of immortality. There Seth meets an angel who refuses to give him the elixir, but the angel does instead give Seth a seed (or perhaps more than one seed) from the forbidden tree where Adam and Eve first ate the apple. When Seth returned, Adam had already died, and then Seth planted the seed(s) in Adam's mouth or beneath his tongue, and then buried him in the soil of Golgotha, the place where Jesus was crucified. Then a tree grows from Adam's corpse, which is then cut down and turned into the cross on which Jesus was crucified. In some versions of the legend it's not a tree, but rather a bunch of twigs and shoots, which would explain some of the motifs.

I suppose you can loosely derive the theme of rebirth in some context, but it would not be a pagan context. The "Green Man" was not meant to be understood as a pagan god. Instead, if anything the "Green Man" was probably a medieval representation of Adam, who in the Quest of Seth dies and is reborn into what becomes the cross at Golgotha. So the "rebirth" of the Green Man is a strictly Christian "rebirth": the resurrection of Jesus, which in the Quest of Seth is prefigured by "rebirth" of Adam. That is what Miller refers to as "new life to humankind" - the "new life" promised by Jesus.

So, although the "Green Man" has sort of become a fixture of British popular folk myth and culture, it was originally a Norman icon, a fixture of the Norman occupation of Britain, that also represented medieval legends about Seth and Adam. The disgorging foliate head, which we now call "Green Man", was never really a "pagan" symbol, though it does sort of resemble many similar symbols from various ancient cultures (such as the Kirtimukha in India). The motif we know today and call "Green Man" was probably always a Christian symbol, not a pagan one. I suppose if you want to keep brandishing it, that's your business, but don't refer to it as a pagan symbol or the image of a pagan god, because it just isn't.

[spookylittletownhq]

HENRIETTA 'HATTIE' BEAUCHENE has arrived in Albion. While they may seem FAMILIAR, they are connected to the NORTHWOOD WEBBS. Their passport was stamped at Falls Inn and shows that they are 32, 5'4, with BLOND HAIR and BLUE EYES. Mrs. Kuiper at the Inn said that they seemed GENEROUS and TENACIOUS, though they were seen DANCING ON A SUNDAY, WEARING TROUSERS AND SMOKING as they departed St. Catharine’s Depot. Be wary, and report any sightings to Madame Lange’s Tea Room.

INTRODUCING HENRIETTA “HATTIE” BEAUCHENE

Dear Amos, 

I don't know why in the devil you wrote to me in such a manner, demanding answers about business you've no right to know, but I suppose that was always like a Ramsey. We Bakers know to mind our own biscuits before we start poking in someone else's oven. I'd a notion to tell you to send yourself off to Old Scratch and inquire of him if you were so inclined, but being a Christian woman, I contained myself. I'm only human though, so you'd best not push your luck, or I'll blister your behind with the flat of my hand like I did when you were a boy, and don't think I don't remember how to do it. You may be something special in the village now, but you'll always be running round with your finger up your nose where it ought not to have been, and I'll remind you so in the churchyard in front of your wife, the congregation, and the Lord Himself if need be.

However, since I am the historian of our clan, I will give you the answers you deserve, if not the ones you want. Hattie were born in the harvest time back in 91 or maybe 90, before the big flood but after that nasty case of the measles went round and Gladys Raines swore she could cure it with an onion poultice. People can say it worked all they like, I can still smell it in my blankets when it gets cold. Anyhow, she was May's first daughter, and May were pleased as punch about her. Such a strange child with those big eyes that never seemed to blink nearly enough for a person's comfort. She were ordinary enough, mind, liked to play in the mud like a piglet same as any other, and never could stay clean even on a Sunday. Sweet enough, I suppose. She'd give me a kiss on the cheek when she saw me and brought me flowers now and then, though I suspect her mother of putting her up to it, for that child was a flibberty-jibbet, might as well have been a maple leaf for she let the wind chase her any which way it blew.

She turned out pretty, I'll say that much. Not the kind of pretty in those magazines, of course, with all that makeup and stylish hair and bedroom eyes. No, just the country sort of pretty, but the kind that seemed like it'd last longer than a summer. She had boys chasing her, and girls too, that kinda way she had. She'd sing and fiddle away at a party and they'd flutter round her, though I don't suppose she cared, for she never seemed smitten by any of them or let it go to her head. Not vain, that one. She got that from the Bakers, for the Ramseys are a vain lot, even you Amos, for I've seen you fussing over your hair when you take your hat off and you don't think anyone's looking. And you a deacon! It's these modern times, that's what it is.

Bold as brass, she moved out of her mother's house and went to live up at the orchard, and was there ever a fuss! Still don't know why so don't bother asking, though I don't think there was ever a quarrel. Maybe she was just tired of looking at Hank Webb's hang-dog face. I still can't imagine what May was thinking marrying that man. But then the Ramseys never could yoke themselves evenly. You couldn't drive a pair of Ramseys down a country lane in a cart, and I don't care who hears me say so. Anyhow, she settled over that way and set about helping with the orchard, though she spent just as much time working on her garden as she did on the trees. She once told me trees didn't need as much love as tomatoes, for trees lasted longer and could hang onto each bit of it, but tomatoes burned through it in a summer. I'm not saying she was queer in her attic, but I still say a fairy might have switched her out in the cradle.

Well and that would've been fine enough, for folks settle down about gossip, what with there always being something new to jaw about, but what would that girl do but pack herself off again, all the way out of town! And I know that's what you really want to know about, Amos Ramsey, but I won't tell you, for I don't know why, and even if I did, for you could never keep a secret in your head more than a minute before sharing it with the world. It's not as if she went far, just up the hill, though that's more than far enough in my estimation. Got herself married to one of them French boys before he shipped off, but he never came back. There's some as say she deserved it, marry in haste and repent in leisure, but that's cattiness and small-hearted thinking. Young folks will do what they've always done, which is do what seems right at the time, and if they don't know better, it's the fault of those that were supposed to raise them. If my own mother hadn't had her head turned by a soldier back in the day, I'd never have been born. I know her mother gets letters from her regular, but she don't share them around.

I've answered as much as I will, which isn't as much as I can but it's more than I could, so be grateful and try not to say anything too foolish the next time you open your mouth, though I know that'll be a trial for you. Give your wife my best, and tell her I've included that recipe for pickled beets she asked me for. That woman puts up with more than a good woman ought, but the Lord sends us suffering to humble us, I suppose.

—

Welcome to the valley! Please send in your account within 24 hours. 💚

[catonablog-blog-blog]

Banshees v. Poltergeists: Haunting Trial Takes Spooky Turn Greetings, fellow paranormal enthusiasts and lovers of the eerie unknown! Rufus T. Flywheel here, your guide into the realm of the supernatural and the bizarre. Today, I bring you a chilling tale that has captivated the world of specters and spooks—a trial like no other, where banshees and poltergeists clash in a haunting showdown that has left even seasoned ghost hunters trembling with fear. The stage is set in the small town of Shadowvale, a place shrouded in mist and mystery, where rumors of restless spirits have long haunted the residents. It all began when the McGregor estate, a dilapidated mansion that had stood abandoned for decades, was reportedly plagued by unexplained phenomena—whispers in the night, objects moving on their own, and eerie wails that sent shivers down the spine of anyone who dared to approach. Enter the Banshee Brigade, a team of ghost hunters led by the fearless Samantha Moonbeam, renowned for her expertise in all things spectral. Determined to uncover the truth behind the haunting of the McGregor estate, Samantha and her team embarked on a daring investigation, armed with their trusty EMF meters, infrared cameras, and other ghost-hunting gadgets. But little did they know that they were not the only ones interested in the mysterious case. The Poltergeist Posse, a rival group of paranormal investigators led by the enigmatic Professor Ectoplasm, had also set their sights on the McGregor estate, claiming that the disturbances were not the work of banshees but rather the mischievous handiwork of poltergeists. And so, the stage was set for a showdown of supernatural proportions as the Banshee Brigade and the Poltergeist Posse clashed in a battle of wits and wills, determined to prove once and for all which spectral entity held sway over the McGregor estate. As the trial began, both sides presented their evidence—a chilling EVP recording captured by the Banshee Brigade that seemed to echo with the mournful cries of the banshees, and a series of violent poltergeist manifestations witnessed by the Poltergeist Posse that defied all logical explanation. The jury, composed of skeptics and believers alike, listened intently as witnesses took the stand—a frightened maid who had encountered the banshees in the dead of night, a disheveled gardener who had been attacked by unseen hands, and a local historian who spun tales of ancient curses and vengeful spirits. But as the trial unfolded, it became clear that the truth was far more complex than either side had anticipated. Strange occurrences that defied classification—the sound of spectral footsteps in the attic, the inexplicable cold spots that seemed to follow the living—left both the Banshee Brigade and the Poltergeist Posse scratching their heads in confusion. And then, just as the trial seemed to be reaching its climax, a new player entered the stage—a mysterious figure cloaked in shadows, whose presence sent a chill down the spines of all those present. With a voice like silk and eyes that seemed to pierce the very soul, the figure revealed the shocking truth behind the haunting of the McGregor estate—a truth that neither banshees nor poltergeists could have ever imagined. For the spirits that haunted the McGregor estate were not ghosts at all, but something far more sinister and ancient—a being that had slumbered beneath the earth for eons, waiting for the stars to align and the time to be right for its awakening. As the truth of the haunting was revealed, the Banshee Brigade and the Poltergeist Posse joined forces in a desperate bid to confront the malevolent entity that lurked within the depths of the McGregor estate. Armed with their knowledge of the supernatural and their courage in the face of the unknown, they ventured into the heart of darkness, determined to banish the ancient evil once and for all. What transpired in the shadows of the McGregor estate that fateful night remains a mystery to this day. Some say they heard the sound of spectral laughter echoing in the wind, while others swear they saw the flicker of ghostly lights dancing in the darkness. But one thing is certain—the Banshee Brigade and the Poltergeist Posse emerged from the trial forever changed, their minds opened to a world beyond the veil of reality, where banshees and poltergeists are but a small part of a much larger tapestry of supernatural beings. And so, dear readers, as we bring this tale of terror to a close, remember that the world is a place of wonder and mystery, where the spirits of the dead walk among us and the boundaries between the living and the dead are blurred. Whether you believe in banshees, poltergeists, or something far more sinister, one thing is certain—the truth is out there, waiting to be discovered by those brave enough to seek it. Until next time, may your nights be filled with whispers in the dark and your dreams haunted by the spirits of the past. This is Rufus T. Flywheel, signing off from the shadows of the unknown. Stay spooky, my friends, and never stop seeking the truth, no matter how chilling it may be.

[remembering-the-future]

October 15 2023 at 06:59PM

Title: The Astonishing Yet Hilariously Misguided Prophecy of a Peculiar Historical Discovery! Greetings, curious readers! Today, we embark on a mind-boggling journey through time and stumble upon a prophecy that unfolded with such unintentional hilarity, it left historians scratching their heads in disbelief. So, fasten your seatbelts as we delve into the peculiar world of a mistaken premonition that ended up being the catalyst for an extraordinary historical discovery! Our story begins in the sequestered realm of prediction, where a self-proclaimed clairvoyant, who shall remain nameless for reasons you will soon understand, embarked on a whimsical venture to foresee a groundbreaking historical event. Little did this hapless yet amusingly confident seer know that their prophecy would be riddled with inaccuracies, simultaneously foreshadowing one of the most celebrated archaeological blunders of all time. According to the mystic's misguided visions, a "monumental discovery of a long-lost civilization" was imminent. They boldly foretold uncovering an ancient city submerged deep in the heart of a landlocked desert, nestled within the vibrant jungles of Antarctica. Yes, you heard it right; our clairvoyant inadvertently misplaced their geography skills, leaving them entirely unaware of the icy nature of the southernmost continent. Undeterred by the geographical faux pas, our visionary proceeded to describe the inhabitants of this mythical realm as amphibious beings with gills and scaly tails. These peculiar underwater dwellers were supposedly gifted with psychic abilities, capable of communicating with narwhals and deciphering Morse code through whale song. Alas, such imaginings ran wild in the prophet's mind, paving the way for a delightful comedy of errors! Further fantastical details emerged, as the seer confidently asserted that these underwater denizens brewed a magical potion from a rare plant called "Blibberwort." This mystical concoction, according to our clairvoyant's unreliable soothsaying, granted eternal youth and the ability to speak fluent dolphin. One can only imagine the astonishment that ensued when researchers finally discovered the remnants of a long-lost civilization, only to find no trace of gill-equipped, telepathic mer-people or any enchanted Blibberwort. Now, you may be asking, "Did this whimsical prophecy have any element of truth to it?" Surprisingly, dear readers, it did! Beneath the towering ice sheets of Antarctica, intrepid scientists eventually stumbled upon evidence of a prehistoric ecosystem, but alas, no psychic abilities or mermaids were to be found. Instead, the discovery offered a fascinating glimpse into the prehistoric climate conditions that once enveloped this icy continent. A bittersweet victory for history, yet a triumphant moment for the comedy-loving masses! In conclusion, it is with heartfelt hilarity that we recount the tale of a well-meaning yet utterly misguided prophecy, sparking the imagination of generations to come. While the so-called psychic's predictions may not have aligned with reality, sometimes, the absurdity that unfolds along the way can leave us with a smile just as wide as the evidence that is discovered. So, dear readers, remember to approach history with a pinch of humor. After all, it is not only the factual accounts that leave an indelible mark but also the whimsical tales of misguided prophecy, inadvertently setting the stage for unforeseen discoveries! Until our next, equally entertaining escapade, keep your eyes wide open and your laughter ready, as history continues to unveil its endearing surprises.

[a-world-in-grey]

Blessings hcs

In response to the wonderful hcs @secret-engima posted. 

Ifrit

-Fire and Knowledge. A burning desire for knowledge, and seeking it out rather than waiting. Change. Burning the old to make way for the new, consuming something to make something else. A certain ability for healing - but less healing and more targeted Destruction. Holy Fire purifies. It burns away everything but that which the person believes to be part of themselves. Reborn Anew from Fiery Death. Ifrit’s Blessed have fire immunity (but not sunburns, that’s Bahamut’s domain), wield the Holy Fire, gain a talent for learning new knowledge, and a proficiency with tech.

Leviathan

-The Sea and Tides. Pretty much all of @secret-engima‘s hcs, but I do add that Leviathan’s Blessed can also heal. As the Sea grants life, so do her Blessed, weaving healing magic through their voices. They are the only ones who can heal multiple people at a time.

Shiva

-Ice and Preservation. Cold immunity and Ice Elemancy. Illusions and a certain amount of trickery and mischief, but also the ability to slow. Where Ifrit purifies through destruction, Shiva slows until it halts. Of course, just as Ifrit’s Blessed can destroy themselves through too-rapid change, Shiva’s Blessed run the risk of Stagnation.

Titan

-The Earth. In stone and soil and metal and plants. His Blessed draw their power from his domain, from the natural magics of gems and metals and herbs. They have Titan’s durability, his stamina, his stubborn determination. His Blessed can draw upon the life of the earth to heal through potions and enchanted items, slowly but surely working. They are at home in forests and underground, and never get lost, and they can sense the health/quality of the stone/wood/soil/etc that they touch.

Ramuh

-The Storm and Judgement. Very much secret-engima’s hcs here. I would only add that Ramuh’s Blessed, due to their keen senses, are the first to sense injury and infection around them.

Bahamut

-War and Light. Canon abilities. I hc that Ardyn’s odd form of healing is an odd mutation - sort of a half-way point between LCs and Oracles. The self-contained nature of LCs, but the healing capability of the Oracles. The Draconian is the only Astral to have two distinct Blessings, where the others have one Blessing that their Blessed make use of to their preferences. I also hc that Bahamut is considered one of the three Life Astrals (along with Titan and Leviathan, opposite Ramuh, Shiva, and Ifrit as Astrals of Death), but no one in the modern day knows why. But Bahamut’s Blessing bestows healing, and he is depicted with the same Life motifs that are present in images of Leviathan and Titan. (Some theorize that it’s because the dead cannot war, only the living, and that light is such a crucial thing for life to thrive.)

[eluxcastar]

A soft Sika madu x reader please ?

Some favouritism for you.

FEATURES: shikama doji

CW: not proofread I couldn't be bothered tbh

WC: 800

NOTES: I lied here's this self-indulgent spew of brainrot

aight here we go 😔 it is kinda heavy implied reader is a Vampire or atleast soon to be one yk like when a historian says two people are roommates kinda implied. Looking back at this it seems like I'm rambling kinda Idk how well this turned out so I'm gonna tag it as headcanons

there's a possum at my window and he's scratching somebody come get your man 😭

you weren't sure when you started to notice it, surely not because you were imagining it however. It was becoming rather obvious how much he called for your help, small things, but not subtle enough you were oblivious. The times he used to call for Ashera hadn't changed, there were just more times he wanted your help.

why? You hadn't figured that part out yet, he wasn't exactly what one might call keen to share his motives of any kind with anyone, he just did, and you accepted. It was nice to think that on the days Ashera wasn't with you and Yū was off playing with his snake somewhere, probably off waving it in Urd's face while he awkwardly tried to dissuade him, your Master wanted to have your company in his rare moment of peace.

you knew he couldn't get those much, nobody really could with the sheer amount of people who lived there none quite yet to fully go off on their own. Even for you your idea of peace and quiet came only from these moments, and the idea he was somehow spoiling you was a strangely elating one.

out of everyone there, almost all of them much stronger and with far more maturity than you, your initial fears of realising you were the newest little lamb in the den of wolves was eased by the fact even just this man alone acknowledged you. He is something not of this world. They all listen to him. They would never hurt you if he adored you, not like you feared, even Rígr who took his pleasures in teasing you had admitted that.

you didn't quite fit anywhere yet, with the eldest two already closet off in a little pair and close as they had been for a long time, and the generation after them in a stage just past where you were right now all having accepted what they had become. Then there was finally you, the one who would begin the fourth generation, at least from what you understood of it. You never could understand much of Sika Madu's ramblings and explanations as he showed you things and explained to you things you never could quite grasp.

the one thing you did understand was universal, the little touches, the hand that ghosted across your back as soon as you we're in arms reach to usher you closer, the hand that smoothed your hair back into place on occasion, even his apparently unusual willingness to answer your questions to the point you were slowly becoming the messenger of other people's curiosities. He often acknowledged he knew and yet he also acknowledged why you kept doing it.

"Why do you keep coming to me with questions other people have asked me? Have you figured out this is a way to make them like you?"

it embarrassed you at the time, but he answered and sent you on your way, telling you to "Run along now back to Raimei." somehow knowing exactly who had sent you in the first place.

his seemingly unending patience for you made you feel more welcomed than any of the people he had asked to take care of you, though entrusting you to the eldest was his initial reaction and taught you some things, nothing would compare to the subtle pampering you were getting compared to how much he regarded the others, a selfish indulgence to prize how much more attention he pays you above everyone else.

there's a certain comfort in the way Sika Madu almost seems to treasure you, at least in your perspective, the few times you have fallen asleep by his side in the middle of work met with a gentle pat on the head and something to keep you warm. You recalled a time you almost bawled your eyes out to him and despite having no idea what to do he let you cry to him, the second you were fine he asked you. "What is it you want to do?"

so many things he had provided you, times he spent alone with you asking for comfort, though from what you weren't sure. He had three requests, follow him, sit with him and let him lay his head in your lap. Those were easy but it was the surprise fourth request that caught you off guard, "I'll answer a few of your questions, if you become desperate for answers, but I don't want them to be other people's questions." and for the first time he turned you away from giving out information, taking your hand and he pressed it to his cheek, his thumb stroking the back of your hand.

it was as if he was now revelling in your company, not just making you comfortable in his.

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

Can I request more of the vikings with the time traveler but them reacting to they phone or maby gun they had on them when they time travelled (imagine ivar with a gun or the other vikings reacting to a face filter on the time travelers phone makes me laugh )

Notes: Okay so I've never lived in America (or any other country that allows citizens to carry guns) but let's just say the world devolves into anarchy for the sake of this imagine in case you aren't american

Yes, I change some of the characters in imagines for the way they'd react I mean, imagine Judith with a gun.

How Vikings would react to a gun and a snapchat filter (given to them by an irresponsible time traveler)

In this imagine, you'll be arming Ragnar, Lagertha, Aslaug, Rollo, Floki, Helga, Bjorn, Ubbe, Hvitserk, Sigurd, Ivar, Ecbert, Athelstan, Judith, Kwentrith and Gisla in a very irresponsible manner (*looking at you anon*)

Ragnar

will use snapchat filters to scare the shit out of his children

probably uses the gun in a very viking manner

which just means he uses it to kill people

oohh but it makes him ~special~

shows his guests the gun

and if they don't like it

pew pew bitch

Lagertha

very efficient

converts gun into a bat once ammo runs out

but also responsible with it

you just know half of Hedeby will develop a gun kink bc of her

does not like snapchat filters

Aslaug

oh you don't like me??

maybe your corpse will

please give Aslaug a gun

Harald who? No one dares to conquer Kattegat

doesn't need snapchat to enhance her beauty

Rollo

do not give this man a gun

i'm begging you

it's pure chaos

and he will attempt to kill Ragnar

no

snapchat filters confuse him

Floki

the end of christians

gets seasonal depression when the ammo runs out

gun in one hand, eyeliner in the other

wants to reconstruct it

fails

has a breakdown

loves snapchat filters so much

oh lord

Helga

unsure what to do with the gun she confiscated from Floki

pokets the gun

whips it out when people insult her family

scolds Floki with the gun in hand

uses it as a vase or sth idk

not sure how to feel about snapchat filters

Bjorn

chaos

does not like guns

thinks they aren't viking enough

and no new ammo? bah

all of his wives would use the gun very efficiently though

esp. Ingrid

uses every snapchat filter unironically

Ubbe

gives up on guns because he uses bows more efficiently

returns it to you and makes you swear to keep it away from Ivar

if you're Kattegat's longtime resident time traveller

he's most likely traumatized from snapchat filters

in either case, he's just unsure what to use them for

Hvitserk

honestly, might be even worse than Ivar

new kink unlocked???

accidentally fires once or twice

likes dumb snapchat filters

Sigurd

attempts to kill Ivar

Ivar

attempts to kill Sigurd

there's a reason this guy can't walk

don't give him a gun

you'll change world history

everyone in his close proximity might die

Ivar, refrain from scratching your head with a gun!!!

Snapchat filters aren't funny

Ecbert

you can bet the Wessex court gets a lot quieter

but he usually just looks at it

bc he doesn't want to waste ammo

shows snapchat filters to Ragnar

Athelstan

gives it back

after drawing some Da Vinci shit in his journals

historians get headaches over them millenials later

Judith

oh can you imagine

give this woman a gun!!!

shoots 90% of Lords in Wessex

Wessex politics have never been this efficient

and smoothly running

Kwentrith

pure chaos

but I want her to be able to shoot her abusers

otherwise, she just shoots every mercian lord

uses glamourizing snapchat filters for a while bc they're funny

Gisla

might shoot Rollo

0 fucks given

takes over Europe and then some

she is so done with your shit

give her a gun, I dare you

does not fuck with filters

tagged: @alicedopey 

[notebooks-and-laptops]

Merrill on Solas’s side: my one fear given nuance

Okay, so, I want to build off the post I made a while ago about my fear of Merrill being on Solas’s side in DA4. Because my feelings about it are mostly NO THANK YOU but also there’s some nuance and hey, I work best through my character feels out loud. So let’s talk about it. I’m gonna put most of this under a cut because oh boy it got a bit long actually.

Because the thing is...it could be good, actually. There’s a very, very specific version of this idea in my head that could be good. Why would it be good? Well. Because Dragon Age hasn’t really had any sympathetic villains yet. And I get that solas is supposed to be our sympathetic villain and if that works for you great! but for me, he wasn’t established well enough as friend before he became enemy. He’s just the weird racist guy who gave me a castle and now wants to fix his mistake by...making the exact same mistake all over again. And while he does have individual moments of banter with the DAI crew that are very fun, he doesn’t actually show up to any of the bonding scenes (wicked grace night for example) nor does he have any cut scenes that develop a particular relationship between him and say...Dorian, who’s also hanging out in the library. 

But Merrill? Merrill has friends. True, proper, established friends. She’s lovable. She loved. Varric, Carver and Isabela in particular, but Bethany, Fenris, Anders, Aveline, Sebastian - they all had positive interactions with her regardless of how they viewed her magic. And she certainly cared about them.

And Merrill’s characterisation could be simplified down to ‘restoring the old ways’ and ‘protecting her people’. In Dai in particular, we hear that she has turned her attention to city elves getting caught in the templar/mage conflict crossfire - her ‘people’ are expanding from the dalish to all elves, and her cause is expanding from ‘history’ to ‘rights’. To the present. To fixing things. So, she still likes the old ways and wants to restore them, and she sees the systematic abuse elves suffer clearer than any other companion in game (apart from maybe Fenris, though Fenris makes comments rather than actionably trying to fix whats going on). 

So Solas comes to Merrill, an incredibly talented mage and historian, who basically rebuilt her own eluvian from scratch, and recruits her. And Merrill goes with him because she can restore the old ways, and protect her people who’s treatment is getting steadily worse and worse (masked empire, but I also imagine by da4 we’ll see that Solas’s prophecy of ‘they’ll blame the elves’ for the dai events will be coming true - especially with them disappearing) - and perhaps the only way she can see it getting better is a complete revolution where the current order is completely overthrown (she had some role models there, after all). And she becomes your sympathetic villain because not only is she doing it for all the right reasons (not for elves long dead, but for elves now) but also because...can you imagine Varric and her seeing one another on opposite sides of a battle? His daisy who wandered into gardens she wasn’t supposed to? Or Isabela? Can you imagine the internal struggle that would play out in Merrill’s mind. She’s a keeper - it’s her job to remember. But does remembering truly equal restoring? Would she convince herself that the collapse of the veil would actually be good for everyone? Would we have scenes where she tries to beg Varric to listen to her? Where she tries to get Fenris to? Hawke? The new protagonist? 

Merrill is kind. Being in that position would tear her apart, and I think it would tear her apart in incredibly interesting ways. 

I also think she’d be a great final act betrayal for Solas. Because she’s clever, so clever, and I think eventually, she’d realise that what Solas was trying to do was probably going to destroy a lot of elves too, let alone humans. And I think she could be a great dagger in the back for Solas, and a great friend for us in the final part of the game if we chose to let her work with us (maybe similar to Loghain? To get her we have to lose a current companion or something?).

BUT there’s also a lot of worry. All of this, if done, would have to be done with such nuance and tact that I’m not entirely sure they can devote to a secondary character who wouldn’t be around the protagonist much. Like, it couldn’t be like Calpernia, it would have to really show an intense internal Merrill struggle to make me enjoy it and to not, ya know, massacre my favourite character in the entire franchise. Also, its impact would be very tied to how many da2 characters are going to be present. There’s literally no point in doing this if Merrill isn’t going to actually be on the opposite side to her friends, if Varric isn’t going to have an absolute break down about his Daisy, if the new protagonist isn’t going to have the perfect moment to kill her and her weapon is knocked out of her hand by Isabela.

And also...Merrill is our ‘good’ blood mage. I deeply, deeply don’t want that to change. Merrill shows a nuance to magic, shows a perspective that is alien to the chantry in a very sympathetic light. And I think it would be too easy to demonise her. Or like...have what Fenris said about her ‘justifying her need for power’ by killing innocents for their blood come true. Which, I think Merrill as our resident sympathetic blood mage needs to stay away from that - she can’t be the person to sacrifice innocents for magic because a) she cares too much and b) then we have no blood mage left in bioware cannon for us to like - we just have confirmed chantry propaganda about why they’re bad. 

And also...I just don’t trust bioware to do it right. Like. I think Merrill cast as bad-guy-on-Solas’s-side would too quickly become someone obsessed with the old order, someone close to Solas. And honestly? Merrill would kick Solas’s ass if she’d been in dai. Like. Solas is incredibly disrespectful to elves! All the time! To the dalish! I couldn’t see Merrill being friends with him at all. She’d find him interesting for about 3 seconds, and then he’d go and say something racist, or something mighter-than-thou and it would totally rub her the wrong way. I think Solas would remind her so much of her Keeper and their circular arguments and the fact that she never listened to Merrill. Which again, could be an interesting dyanamic, but I’m not sure it would have room to breathe that it needed in a video game format. Merrill could reveal how Solas doesn’t actually care about elves, but only about the ghosts of the old elves, and she could do that by being on his side or ours, but the temptation in the writers room to make her Solas’s second in command in an uncomplicated way I think would be pretty high. 

Idk. Like. I think it could be good. I would read a fanfiction with this premise that was Merrill centric and explored all these interesting things. But there’s just so many ways it could go horribly wrong that I just. It is my deepest fear for da4. Because I could handle them butching quite a few of the characters, but Merrill is so important to me if they did it wrong I’d be so fucking sad I’d probably struggle to play the game much. 

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

Hello, I've got a doubt- Did the figure of Jesus really exist (a laic version without all that religious idiocies) and after his death he was mythologized, or was he created from scratch or even better, people took a cue from other cultures? Just genuinely curious. Thanks in advance and sorry for my English, it's not my mother tongue

Yes?

...

All of the above?

...

So, what we're talking about is a Historical Jesus, as opposed to Bible Jesus.

We can be certain that Bible Jesus is a falsehood, for a number of reasons, including knowing that stories such as the resurrection were added later by someone else; that people we know to have existed are depicted inaccurately compared to how they're known to have been; the Jesus character is portrayed significantly differently across the Gospels, bordering on a different character altogether; that the Gospels are either quoting each other verbatim or else contradict each other in irresolvable ways; that these stories didn't emerge until decades later; the persistent third-person perspective of nobody who was there; the stories contain many historical inaccuracies; many of the stories don't claim to even be eyewitness accounts or outright say that they're not; it's already known that the biography genre of the era was not focused on accuracy anyway, but veneration; and that the magic tricks of this character are simultaneously in violation of reality and completely petty and small for a divine son of god.

Historical Jesus is another matter.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Historical_Jesus

There seems to be a general sentiment among bible scholars, even the non-believers, that calling Historical Jesus an outright myth is a fringe opinion, that Historical Jesus certainly existed in some form.

The problem is that none of the scholars can really agree on much of anything about this person. They can't really agree on what he was like, what he did, where he went, what he thought or what he taught. The two events they appear to be most confident about are his baptism and execution (which doesn't mean resurrection). Except that they can't really agree on those either, such as why he was executed.

It's honestly all very tiresome.

In science, it's sometimes the case that you discover that there's something there before you discover what it is. Dark matter, neutrons, etc. But there's a model for how it functions, and there's a conceptual way to detect and measure it, even if a way to do so in reality doesn't exist yet.

That isn't the case here. Imagine a small room packed full of people and all of them are looking around the room, nodding their heads, but saying different words in different languages. They're all certain and all in agreement, but all about different things. This is how the historical search for Jesus appears to me.

As far as Xianity is concerned, it seems like Bible Jesus was not constructed entirely from scratch. There was at least some form of local legend, maybe a real person(s) as the inspiration. There is undoubtedly elements of the bible character which have been lifted or inspired by other cultures, myths and traditions that have been grafted on, either because the legends evolved or the church sought to bolster their Mary Sue. But there's also elements of the character which have been written specifically to try and meet the stuff in the Old Testament that they had access to.

My perspective is basically that Bible Jesus is false. I reject the character outright. This character, as described and depicted, never existed and never did the things the book says he did.

It's also that the/any real-world person behind the bible character is both more interesting and more irrelevant. As a human person, he would be more interesting to learn about and understand, without the bullshit mythology and magic of his bible/fictional counterpart. But also irrelevant because he's not the one Xians are trying to ram down our throats.

I'm content to leave the historians to their attempts to find him or agree about anything significant about him. If they ever do, I'd be interested in hearing his story; until they do, I'm not especially interested in their vague hypotheses or attempts to conjure him from inductive reasoning, rather than verifiability.

Suffice to say, I won't be holding my breath.

And none of it makes the bible true.

[stellartales]

Xiao — Call My Name 04

Chapter 04  — He Stands Alone

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DO NOT REPOST,  TRANSLATE OR USE ANY PARTS OF MY FICS IN ANY FORMS AND CLAIM THEM AS YOUR OWN.

My fics are kept within Tumblr (@savagetrickster​ @justgenshin​ — I am both.)  and nowhere else but if you do see my works outside, please notify me.

The way to Liyue Harbor was a lot faster on the cargo carriage a regular merchant of Wangshu Inn offered Paimon and her to ride on. 

The herbs Verr Goldett worked wonders; her leg could walk so much better now with barely any pain. Thanks to the lady boss’ care, her last evening in the Inn were spent making his favorite food in Smiley Yanxiao’s kitchen

As Verr Goldet had mentioned — one would only find the Guardian Adeptus if he wants to be found. 

Indeed, on the balcony, that night was the last she had seen of Xiao. Day or night, he was nowhere in sight. Even his usual place, the balcony, stayed empty with no sign of the adeptus. 

However, the missing box of the almond tofu she made that was gone along with her little handwritten note, ‘Eat well! :) Do you happen to know an adeptus named Starsnatcher?’ the following morning told her something else. 

 Liyue Harbor has always been a bustling port city for as long as he could remember. He was , afterall, the one who made sure it flourished. 

The faint aromatic whiff of Jueyun Chilli Chicken coming from Wanmin Restaurant just down the street was instantly recognizable to anyone who had stayed in Liyue Harbor long enough. Laughing children and energetic chatter about anything and everything was accompanied by the distant hollers of the shipcrews down on the port.

Wise golden eyes idled on the scenes around him.

Particularly, on the loaded carts rolling along the streets and the enthusiastic merchants they went past. 

This ever-going vitality was the very blood that kept this city port bright and running, and the Qixing its brain. One he knew Liyue Harbor could depend on when he decided to put his duties as the Geo Archon to a permanent rest and experience the world in the form of a mortal, just like now.

A satisfied sigh quietly slipped past his lips as Zhongli cast his gaze onto the view of the sky beyond the shimmering horizon the location of the tavern he was sheltered under offered, the edges of his lips curling mildly in contentment.

The curt flutters of an opening paper fan turned the thoughtful gaze back to the storyteller, “ We last left off, with ancient Liyue, beset by an ocean demon and a mountain dragon.”  

Elegant, long fingers curled around the steaming teacup on the table before him. 

“ Rex Lapis mustered his adepti,” The wispy steam from the teacup was blown away as it drew near to his lips, ” to restore peace into the land.”

A sip of the hot tea disappeared down his throat with a gulp and as he was lowering the cup to the table, golden eyes swiveled to the left.

The cup was placed back onto the table and he was on his feet, leaving the storyteller to tell his tale.

The crowd on the street of Chihu Rock parted like a flowing river as she maneuvered through the boulevard with eyes glued to the intricate words on the book — Yakshas: The Guardian Adepti . 

Perched on her right shoulder, another pair of eyes were equally engrossed in the content.

The pages in her hands fluttered lightly to the ocean breeze as they broke away from the busy street and onto the wharf overlooking the vast sea beyond the harbor. 

“It’s so tragic…” Paimon’s hands were held to her chubby face.

Brooding sadness brimmed in their eyes as they settled down on the neatly piled wooden planks. The shadow of the huge dockyard in front of them was the perfect shade blocking them from the afternoon sun.

Lumine nodded with a deep sigh, “Oh how they had suffered…” She shook her head.

“—Indeed, and terribly so.” A deep voice interjected.

Both jolted upright with a surprised gasp, lifting their heads sharply to find themselves being gazed upon by a familiar pair of wise eyes.

“Zhongli-sensei??” 

Lumine winced at the volume Paimon released from her shoulder. 

“Do you mind?” A smile played on his lips as Zhongli gestured at the spot beside her.

She shook her head.

His long brown coat fluttered behind him as he moved to sit down.  

“Interesting choice of literature you have there,” The wood beneath them shifted to his weight as he took his spot beside them. 

“Is it true? Is it true?” Paimon flapped her arms eagerly, “Is it true that this tragedy happened a long time ago? The lady at the bookhouse told us this was just a theory spun by historians.”

Zhongli chuckled, lifting a hand to return a greeting from a passing dockyard laborer along with a curt nod.

A serious look swept over his handsome face.

“Time is a powerful force. Stories passed along the passage of time are like the stone spears which I had left behind as the Guyun Stone Forest. I made sure what happened then still lives.“ 

The pensive stare on Zhongli’s face lingered even as he turned back to her, but with a slight frown. 

“Just like those spears which were roughed out by wind erosions, what is left to be seen today is what you get. Fabrication by the imagination of those who weren’t there to know what happened is inevitable, but the truth remains.”

Zhongli raised his gaze to the sky with a quiet look, a hand reaching up to cup his chin as how she would always see him doing when reminiscing something from the past.

“The yakshas, this book told of, after fighting the wrath of the gods for thousands of years, became bound by karma.” 

His deep voice dipped with a sad tinge, “Poisoned by the hateful thoughts of the gods, the yakshas would often descend into indescribable fits of terror, rage or agony…”

His long fingers left his face and curled into a tight fist. “They were a big sacrifice for the greater good. All for the peace you see now.” 

A dark look almost like wistful and remorse settled on Zhongli’s face.

“Then the yakshas…” Lumine mulled over his words for a moment. “The book says that their battles broke their souls and made them turn against each other.”

Sadness fell over her eyes like a grey cloud. “...most are no longer here, are they?”

“Some succumbed to darkness.” Zhongli stared forlornly at the book in her hand. “Even I don’t know where those went. But as of today, one still remains.”

He sighed.

“The age of gods and monsters is over. And so is my first contract with Liyue. This is no longer my Liyue to protect but the common folks.” 

Zhongli shook his head. “The moment I ended my contract with Liyue, so did his, but he still battles till this day.” 

“Hold on a second!” Paimon jumped in, waving her hands frantically, “What do you mean one remains? Aren’t there still two yakshas left?”

“Two?” Zhongli blinked calmly at her. “There has always been one   —  Xiao. I’m sure you know him. He was there in your battle against Osial, wasn’t he?” 

It was his turn to look puzzled.

Lumine frowned. “But what about the Starsnatcher—” Her face fell as realization dawned upon her. She ran a hand down her face with an exasperated sigh. “Oh nevermind, it’s clear now. ”

“Huh?” Paimon scratched her head, “Paimon doesn’t understand! What’s clear now?”

“There’s never been an adeptus with the name Starsnatcher.” Lumine narrowed her eyes at the book in her hand. “He’s a fraud!”

Paimon elicited a gasp. “Xiao needs to know that someone is impersonating the adepti!”

A knowing look from Zhongli was all before the Archon let out a chuckle. “And I trust that you three are capable enough to deal with this...imposter.” 

Long legs uncrossed, Lumine’s eyes were drawn to Zhongli as the man rose to his feet. 

There was an elegance even in the way Zhongli turned around to face them. One that she couldn’t help noticing whenever he was around. 

“You bet we will!” Paimon nodded her head enthusiastically. “Leave it to us, Mr. Zhongli!” Her hands curled into chubby fists as a determined glare scrunched up her cheeks.

Amusement danced in his wise golden eyes as Zhongli responded to Paimon with a light chuckle. “You’ve proven yourselves countless times, my friends, I’m sure this obstacle would pass like a smooth breeze.” 

Zhongli turned as if to go, before glancing over his shoulder. 

“Oh yes, before I go, please do me this favor and give these painkillers to Xiao.” He held out a small green pouch. 

“Painkillers?” Lumine said nearly in a gasp as he placed the pouch in her hand. She looked up at him with a worried frown. “Is Xiao in pain...?”

Then it hit her.

Xiao...with all he had gone through, why wouldn’t he? 

Lumine felt her heart clench with an ache at that thought, remembering Zhongli’s words and what the book had mentioned. 

A bitter feeling sank her heart, at the same time, a strange sense of greediness and yearning tugged her heart — to understand the yaksha behind his piercing eyes, to learn about the pain he hid underneath it all.

“I’m afraid so. Constantly and especially so after his battles.” Zhongli’s face held nothing, but there was gloom in his eyes. “That boy…”

Zhongli sighed heavily. “This may be too much to ask. Xiao will not like this, but please look after him.”

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— published on 16.03.2021

[adrianasunderworld]

Something in your Aura

Raihans female!reader

Tired. He was so very tired. Raihan had a packed schedule most of the day. From a photoshoot in the early morning, a training session with his gyms trainers, and then overlooking some documents in the archives. By the time he left the vault, the sun was starting to set. He was ready to sleep, eat, and shower, not necessarily in that order.

    But it seemed the day was not over yet. As he walked down the street, Raihan heard what sounded like a pokemon cry. It was small yelping noise that gradually got closer and closer to him. Looking behind him, Raihan was greeted with the sight of the tiniest Rioulu he had ever seen come bounding up to him. The little one stopped in front of him, tilting its head up and staring curiously.

    Raihan knelt down at the little pokemons level and held out a hand for them to sniff. "Where did you come from?" 

   "Riii" it replied, putting its little black paws on his hand. "Rii rio!" Whatever the little one wanted, it seemed happy.

   While it was content, Raihan looked over the young pokemon. The Riolu looked clean and well fed. It had a little red ribbon tied around its neck like a scarf. At the end it had a name embroidered on the end in gold thread. Gently taking hold of the end of the ribbon, it said Aaron. 

    "Aaron? Is that your name?" Raihan asked the Riolu.

    "Ri!" Aaron nodded.

    "Where's your trainer then?" It was obvious the little pokemon wasn't one of the wild strays that wandered the streets. They clearly had a trainer that took care of them, and were probably very worried. Raihan picked up the small pokemon and stood. "How about we go find them?"

    "Riolu." Aaron nodded and happily perched himself on Raihans shoulder. It seemed the best idea was to go in the direction Aaron had come from. But as they wandered down the street, Raihan didn't see anyone who looked worried or was searching for something, and Aaron did not seem to respond to any of the people passing. He had stopped a couple of people to ask them, but all shook their heads and did not recognize the baby pokemon. 

     It was starting to get late, and at this point Raihan was starving. Aaron began to yawn from his seat on his shoulder. It did not look like they were going to find Aarons trainer tonight. So, without many options, Raihan bought himself some dinner and took his new friend home. 

     "Hey Rotom," he said, and his phone came flying out, the pokemon ready to snap pictures. "Lets get word to out about our little friend here." Rotom pointed the camera at him and started to record. "Hey everyone, listen, if anyone is in Hammerlocke and missing a Rioulu,  I've found him. He's safe. Say hi Aaron."

   "Ri!" He waved to the camera, Rotom being certain to get a good shot of him.

   "Please, if you are his trainer,or know his trainer. Message me and I will get back  to you as soon as possible. Good night." After posting the video and a clear picture of Aaron for good measure, Raihan settled down for the night as he waited for any responses. Meanwhile, the young Riolu seemed to finally grasp that it was no longer home. The cheerful little guy had curled up quietly in Raihans lap, looking a little sad. 

   Raihan scratched him behind the ear. "Miss your trainer?" 

   "Riii…." the baby pokemon nodded sadly. 

   "Don't worry, we'll find them." Raihan assured and let Aaron curl up on his chest that night to sleep.

    The next day, Raihans phone had blown up with notifications. Most of them were comments about how cute Aaron was and well wishes in finding his trainer. most of the private messages that had been sent were of people claiming to be his trainer, but most came off as shady at best. Raihan contemplated going down to the Pokemon center to see if anyone had reported Aaron missing, when he got another message. This one was from a girl, it said her name was __.

   Raihan opened the message and read it.

    Hi, my friend showed me your post about the Riolu you found last night. I'm his trainer, he ran off last night and was no where to be found. I've been worried sick. Please let me know when I can come get him.

    Out of curiosity, Raihan looked at her profile. It didn't take long at all to see a picture of Aaron, ribbon and all, curled up with a Lucario. Then another picture of him being held by the girl, both looking very happy. Raihan showed Aaron the picture and the little one pawed at the screen, crying out for her as if he could reach through the screen to get to her. That seemed to settle it.

     Raihan took one more look at the photo. "Why didn't you tell me your trainer was cute?" 

     "Ri?"

     He chuckled to himself as he messaged the girl back. Noon in Hammerlockes gym lobby sound good?

It only took a minute for her response. 

See you there.

    Sitting in the lobby, Raihan watched as Aaron played on the floor, Flygon had taken it upon themself to entertain the young one by letting him tackle their tail. Just as it was about to be noon, Raihan heard a girls voice from the entrance.

    "Aaron? Aaron!" 

    The Rioulu sprang up and happily ran towards his trainer. She scooped him and hugged him, Raihan could see her relax by the moment. Any worry immediately melting away from her face. 

   "Riri!" Aaron cried out and pointed his paw towards Raihan. 

    The girl looked over and walked towards him. She smiled. "I cant thank you enough for finding him."

    Raihan waved it off. "Dont worry about it, I'm just glad the little guy is back where he belongs." 

     She sighed in relief. "You don't know the panic attack I went through last night." 

    "I can imagine," he said. "What happened anyway? How did you two get separated?"

    "We were walking home after training in the wild area, when he just ran off." She said. "My Lucario did his best to track him down, but he got lost so fast we couldn't find him. I searched everywhere but no luck. Then my friend sent me that post you made and I messaged you as soon as possible." Then she paused. "How did you find him anyway?"

     "He just ran up to me." Raihan said, unsure of how to explain. "I don't know.He seemed so happy, like he was looking for me or something. "

      ___ nodded thoughtfully. "Hhmm…"

      "What do you mean hhmm?"

      "Well…" she paused as if collecting her thoughts before continuing. "I think… maybe it's something about your aura."

     "My aura?"

      ___ nodded. "Yeah… I mean. How familiar are you with the Lucario line?"

     Raihan shrugged. He didn't get to fight many Lucario. Though he was vaguely aware of their unique abilities. "I know they're the aura pokemon. I've read a bit about that stuff, but I can't say I know much."

    She nodded. "Okay, well, to make a long story short, aura is this energy that all living things have. And the Lucario line are unique in that that they are able to sense and use auras energy. I think maybe Aaron sensed your aura and went looking for you."

    Raihan couldn't help but chuckle at the idea. It was certainly an interesting theory. "What could possibly be so attractive about my aura that he would come running?"

     ___ looked him at and down, a coy grin in her face. "It doesn't seem that far fetched. You have a very good aura."

    "You say it as if you can see it."

     Her face went red and she looked away in embarrassment."....I-I can…"

     "Oh," Raihan didn't mean to make her feel embarrassed. Though now he was genuinely curious. "That's pretty damn cool."

      She turned back to him, Aaron seemed to sense whatever it was she was feeling and looked at her curiously. "Thanks, um...but yeah. I guess he could just sense you were a good person and wanted to meet you." she smiled awkwardly.

    Raihan grinned back and reached out to scratch Aaron behind the ear. "Well I was glad to meet him."

      Aaron seemed very happy about it too. But his mood quickly changed when ___ said, "Thanks again for finding him. Come on, Aaron, let's go home." The Riolu started to squirm and cry out. He kept reaching out to Raihan like he didn't want to leave. __ seemed equally distressed. "Aaron, what's wrong? What's gotten into you? Dont you want to see Riley?"

     Aaron only kept pointing at Raihan and looked as if he was begging not to leave. Until eventually, he jumped out of her arms and ran to Raihan wrapping his little arms around his leg and nuzzling him.

     "Oh no." He and ___ said in unison.

     Raihan treated them to ice cream and they sat on a bench, unsure of what to do. Aaron sat between them, swinging his little legs as he munched on his snack. Not caring about the trouble he had caused. Her Lucario, Riley, sat on the ground, arms crossed. Looking at Aaron as the disapproving parent he was. 

     She still seemed so quiet and embarrassed about this whole ordeal. So Raihan did his best to break the ice in an attempt to make her more comfortable. "Riley and Aaron are certainly interesting names for pokemon."

     __ looked at him shyly and grinned a little while her Lucario turned its gaze to him. "I guess so. But in my defense, Riley is named after an old friend. The one who gave me his egg in the first place." 

     "I take it that Riley taught you about Auras?" She nodded. "And what about this one?" He pointed at Aaron.

     "This one is named after Sir Aaron. Another Aura user. One of the few recorded ones in history. Definitely the most famous by far."

     Something about that name struck a cord with him. "I've heard of that guy. Stopped a war and saved the tree of beginning, that Sir Aaron?"

     ___ nodded. "The one and only. So you do know a bit about Auras." She said teasingly.

     Raihan shrugged. "We have a few documents on aura users in the vault. Some of them mentioned the guy. But that's the extent of my knowledge." He paused for a moment before adding. "You seem to know a lot though."

     "A fair amount." She replied, taking another lick from the cone in her hand before it started dripping. "Why, is there something you want to know?"

    "I'm a historian by nature, I always want to know." He then winked before adding, "especially when the source is so cute."

     __ blushed before snorting and rolling her eyes. "That has to be the lamest line I've ever heard."

    Raihan laughed. "Can't blame a guy for trying. But there is one thing I am curious about."

    "And what's that?"

    "What is my aura like?" __ looked surprised. "What's with the face? You can't just say I have such a good aura that your pokemon come running and not tell me what's so great about it."

     ___ shook it off. "Sorry, it's just that I don't get asked that a lot. I dont really go around telling people I see auras."

     "Really?"

     "Yeah…" she let out an irritated sigh as she relayed how annoying it could be. "Whenever i talk about Auras most people either think I'm going to talk about the healing properties of crystals and oils next, or think I'm going to read their auras for free and act like it's some kind of fortune telling. Needless to say I dont bring it up often."

     "Oh Arceus, that does sound annoying."

     ___ laughed and took another lick of her ice cream before turning towards him, resting her arm on the back of the bench. "But since you asked nicely…" she paused for what felt like forever, looking him up and down with a scrutinizing gaze. Raihan had never felt more exposed then in that moment. Though oddly enough, he found that he did not mind. "Your Aura is strong and vibrant. That much is certain. It's… warm and kind. Yet sturdy. The essence of a protector. If that makes any sense. No wonder Aaron ran to you. He knew he would be safe by your side." Then her lips tilted slightly in a smirk. "You're aura is friend shaped."

     For some reason that made Raihan bust out laughing. "Do I get to be your friend then?" 

     She smiled, "I'd like that very much."

[e350tb]

The Owl House: A Blight on Gravesfield (Chapter Five)

Five

The sun rises over Gravesfield.

...so the first essay topic will be up online this afternoon. Now back to weird local myths!

In 1660, King Charles II was restored to the English throne, and the whole Civil War period came to a close. Sort of. There was still a lot of political and religious controversy in both the British Isles and in the colonies; but that’s mostly a topic for another course. We are going to be following the continuing adventures of the Wittebanes.

John died in 1672 of pneumonia, but before he did, he had a family house constructed on his estate; that house, the Historic Wittebane Home, is still, and access is free to all Gravesfield residents, so if you have some time it’s well worth a visit. Although it looks small and uncomfortable now, in the 1660s it was the height of colonial luxury.

John left his estate to his son, the confusingly named John Philip Wittebane. We’ll call him John Philip to avoid too much confusion. Before John Philip took over the estate, he had sailed both as a merchant and as a buccaneer in the Caribbean; we believe he sailed with Henry Morgan in the raid on Maracaibo in 1668-69. While there, he purchased investments in a number of industries, and while he divested from them when he returned to Connecticut to collect his inheritance, they had made him a very wealthy man.

He immediately put his wealth to use by buying up most of the small farmers around Gravesfield, and by 1690, it was reckoned that most people in Gravesfield were employed by him. It became effectively a Wittebane company town, with John Philip even serving as the city’s mayor several times.

This is where our next myth comes to play; that in 1687, John Philip Wittebane had a woman put to death for witchcraft, and that consequently, her ghost haunts the Historic Wittebane Home.

Now, I’m a historian, I can’t tell you ghosts are real. That’s a job for ghostbusters. But was a woman really hanged in Gravesfield for witchcraft, nearly twenty years after the end of the Connecticut Witch Trials?

The local newspaper tell us that on June 13th, 1687 - a Friday - a ‘vagrant, suspected by some of heresy and witchraft, was duly hanged by the magistrate on account of the cruel and vicious murder of Henry Finch, who had been struck down while attending the ‘pigges’ on the Wittebane estate.’ So we have a clear cause for the hanging, and a ‘suspicion of witchcraft,’ but we don’t have a connection.

Frustratingly, this newspaper doesn’t tell us how poor Henry Finch died. Was he cruelly hexed? Well, if we go digging about in the archives, we might find a different story…

----

A brisk and foggy dawn was breaking over Gravesfield.

Ben Frakes was not a man of means by any stretch of the imagination, and as he stepped out into the cold air, he wished he could afford a car. (Well, he could, but it was hard to justify the expense.) It had been an uncomfortable night. Life in his one-room apartment had its charms - chief among them proximity to the college - but on cold nights it could be miserable, especially when his radiator was still broken.

Still, he was in fairly good spirits. His course on Gravesfield’s myths, and the truths behind them, was going very well, and the students seemed engaged. And it was a very good time of year to be in the history business; the annual Gravesfield History Fair was coming up, something he always looked forward to. It was always a riot; apart from a small county fair, there would be historical talks and tours of the old battlefield and the Historical Wittebane Home, and even the yearly battle reenactment; one which Ben had taken part in every year for his whole time in Gravesfield.

He was always on the Redcoat side and therefore always lost, but having fun was the main thing. Even if it was a bit of historical revisionism on the part of the townsfolk.

He was just starting off down the sidewalk to the college grounds when he spied a rustling in the nearby bushes. For a moment, he was prepared to dismiss it as a rabbit or a bird, but then, to his astonishment, a little white head poked out.

“Is that a cat?” he asked himself.

Slowly and gently, he crept forward, leaning down behind the bush. The cat emerged, gently headbutting his outstretched hand.

“Hmm… too much grooming to be a feral,” mused Ben. “Have you gotten out of someone’s yard?”

Carefully, he picked up the cat.

“Am I gonna have to print out a wanted poster for you?” he asked, chuckling. “I’ve got some milk in my fridge, maybe… what the?”

His gaze turned to the cat’s paws. Just under one of the back paws, he could see a peculiar mark, almost like a lock. He frowned.

“That doesn’t look healthy,” he mused. “Okay, pre-class prep can wait, I think you need a vet.”

He started off in the direction of the vet. He wasn’t concerned about making it to his class; that was still hours away, and he’d been planning on spending the morning doing some marking. But that mark… cats did not have marks like that.

At least, not in his world.

----

Camila was not an oblivious woman, especially when it came to her daughter.

She had had some suspicions the night before; most people wouldn’t jump through a portal into the unknown to get their friend to help, after all. But things were messy and upsetting, and people did irrational things under stress, so she’d shelved that thought.

When she walked into her living room the next morning and found them sound asleep in each other’s arms - well, suffice it to say, her suspicions grew a bit.

When Luz eventually blinked open her eyes, she found her mother sitting on the couch with a cup of tea in her hand, smiling wryly down at her.

“Good friends, are you?” she asked.

Luz blinked, and then glanced over to Amity.

She yelped and pulled herself out of her friend’s arms, which in turn woke her up with a start. Both sat up, Luz turning bright red.

“What’s going on?” demanded Amity. “Are we being attacked?”

Camila took a sip of her tea.

“Don’t worry,” she replied. “If we are, I’m sure Luz is very well protected.”

“Mooo-oooom,” groaned Luz, burying her head in her hands as Amity turned red too.

“Uh, Ms. Noceda, it’s… I’m…” Amity scratched the back of her head. “Please don’t get mad, Luz…”

“Mad?” Camila tilted her head. “Why would I be mad?”

“I… um… I…” Amity stammered.

“I need to take a shower!” exclaimed Luz. “Far away from here! Goodbye!”

She darted off the inflatable mattress and out the door.

Amity buried her head in the blanket, moaning softly. Camila frowned, moving a little closer to her.

“Amity,” she asked. “Is everything alright?”

“Sure,” sighed Amity. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Camila reached down and put a hand on her shoulder. She was surprised to see Amity jolt away from her; her frown deepened.

“If you ever need to talk,” she said. “Just remember that I’m here.”

“Thanks,” replied Amity, looking away, “But I don’t think I will.”

She got up and walked away.

----

Luz spat her toothpaste out into the sink (she was surprised at how much better-tasting human toothpaste was than the stuff they used on the Isles, although it probably didn’t provide the same magical plaque protection) and washed her hands, whistling to herself. She didn’t know why - it wasn’t as though she was calm or cheerful - but perhaps music calmed the soul.

“Okay,” she said to herself. “Gotta go back to the historical society. Maybe there’s a lead to getting Amity home on that creepy curator guy’s conspiracy board… also wanna see if the bookstore’s still there. I think Amity would like it.”

She turned to the door and immediately froze.

Camila was leaning against the closed door, arms crossed.

“I think it’s time we talked, mija.”

Luz pursed her lips.

“...do we have to do it in the bathroom?”