#kott writes

[kottkrig]

To Embrace The Shadow: Absolution (End)

Lucretia is faced with her own mistakes and what the consequences might be if she forgets why they call her the Shadow Mother.

World of Warcraft | Original Characters

Found Family

“Can you come home now?”

Zala looked up from Lucretia’s arms with misty eyes. The elf often asked to be held without any fear of her mentor's sobering presence.

“Yes, of course. I will not abandon my people, and I owe you three a lot for securing my recovery ahead of time…” Lucretia faced her anticipating audience. The men were reaching out as if she might slip away again, but they were too modest to ignore decorum as quickly as their Sister.

“First of all, you deserve an apology.”

Letting Zala go, she floated back as much as she could in their modest space. She took off her miter, which was constructed from nothing but pure energy, as was the rest of her; the Shadow Mother was the wraith of a mortality left behind. The vessel she mantled was the one her people knew best, and she let it appear largely as cadaverous as she was before her ascension. She refused to be ashamed of her undeath, which she never chose for herself. Failing her kin, however, was a result of her choices.

The trio watched as she apologized for her arrogance, for taking their loyalty for granted. She was sorry for seeing herself as above consulting them about her plans, and just expecting them to comply. Her overconfidence put them all in danger and left them to clean up her mess.

The prestige tied to her name was earned, but she was not invincible, and she was the most responsible for reminding them that neither were they.

“My greatest joy would be for you to one day walk your own ways, but I cannot let you go with the presumption that any of us are untouchable. It would violate our third and most difficult tenet, and in turn, undo the others. All three must work together.”

They stared at her in stunned silence. It certainly confirmed her arrogance.

“But I have shackled your growth, and you have every right to be disappointed with me.”

Zala was quick to accept her apology. Lucretia had a hunch that she was just exhilarated with their reunion, as their bond sometimes leaned on the familial side over simply teacher and student. It wasn’t Lucretia’s intention for Zala to become so attached that it might hurt her autonomy, and they would have to work on that. Lafayette was similar, albeit more guarded with his opinion. It was likely that he followed Zala’s initiative, as he often did choose to go with the flow and submit to a more assurant personality. Only when the following silence got too tense for him did he seem to add his own input.

“You couldn’t predict that this would happen. But maybe… maybe we should have talked more beforehand. We could have helped you prepare better.”

Lucretia agreed with him and was pleased to hear him speak his mind. She then faced Cletus and found him avoiding her gaze. She had supervised him the longest, with promises of prestige dangling in front of him–which she knew he would eventually achieve–but she had held him back for years. Perhaps she feared for his safety, or perhaps she savored having such loyal acolytes at her beck and call, but loyalty was unwise without mutual trust. It might have dawned upon him and made him hesitant. She could not blame him.

They didn’t need to forgive her, and she was hoping that they would take their time with their final decision. Receiving her humility was what they deserved. As for herself, she could handle any heat coming her way from the cult. Uppity Dark Clerics who thought she got her comeuppance were insignificant when she had the honor of seeing her students flourish together.

Things eventually started returning to relative normalcy, but Lucretia had to rethink her approach as a teacher. She decided to bring the trio aside, one at a time, and offer to loosen her grip on them. If they were to grow further, they needed to be challenged, and she could use her privileged position to advance theirs.

Lafayette’s anxiety held him back from progressing any faster than at a sloth’s pace, and Lucretia knew that she contributed to his sheltering. The living and the dead could walk all over him, and he would take it in silence instead of standing his ground. His success in reclaiming control of his sight tasted of the respect that he longed for. It was going to be a lifelong journey to challenge his fears, and he would be facing setbacks, but such were the trials they all faced as early as learning their first tenet. He often settled among the cult’s archives, where anyone who needed something had to consult an archivist. If he was taught on how to manage their texts, others were wise to respect someone who held onto occult knowledge.

Zala rambled on about a dozen things on her wishlist, but it wasn’t quite material things that Lucretia had in mind. They could revisit that matter at another time, so the two concluded that her role in preserving their grounds should broaden beyond menial labor and patrols in Deathknell. She had proven that she could plan for and journey into the unknown, and then return safely on her own. An elven ranger was exceptional for sweeping across the wilds with her silvan knowledge, and even someplace as haunted as Lordaeron needed care to maintain balance. It was her home, and she should be free to explore and nurture it. Lucretia urged her to be vigilant as the eyes of the Forgotten Shadow, and Zala eagerly swore to honor the trust put in her.

Cletus’s relationship with her had become tense. He fought harder than he should have for their sake, and was facing burnout as his only reward if he was just going back to being her eternal promising student. For one who had come so far, she still hadn’t ordained him. They both knew that his weak point was vainglory, and while power was what they all sought, every cultist had to constantly measure their capacity for it. Even the most successful of Dark Clerics weren't above remembering the tenets, or they risked falling like she had done. Cletus could charm his way forward all he wanted, but it meant nothing if he wouldn’t practice what he had been preaching in this time. Whenever he felt certain about it, Lucretia promised to be there to avow his commitment, and bow back at him as an equal.

She was self-aware enough to recognize her worries about letting go of control, knowing what it might cost a Shadow priest to be careless. She was proof herself of what rigid discipline could accomplish, but her students would never be able to breathe if they couldn’t reach above the surface. All four of them were left with scars reminding them of their trials, that they saw it through, and that there would be more trials to come. They would continue to face failure, prejudice, hatred and devastating loss, and she couldn’t always be there to protect them. What she could do was teach them how to protect themselves, and each other, until they were ready to walk their own ways. Their paths were not for her to decide for them, when such was not the will of the Forsaken.

It was challenging to adapt and persist through difficult times, and there may be endless time for any Forsaken to lead. But they were a stubborn people, and when those who reviled them as abominations kicked them down, they crawled back up and spat in the faces of their oppressors. The Cult of Forgotten Shadows sought to enhance what it meant to be Forsaken, and when to be Forsaken meant spiteful survival, they embraced the shadow that had been cast over them.

[iicarused]

Hey Queen 🤭 thanks for the absolute fuckin' heart attack this morning of tagging me alongside some of my favorite hazbin writers-

Anyways have my Striker brain rot;

- mans got that western charm, calling his s/o poppet, dame, doll, darling.

- enjoys the intimacy of a night in at a campsite or a lodge as opposed to 'going out on the town'

- Striker only drinks the good shit. Top shelf whiskey like Dalmore or Glenmorangie.

- he likes sarsaparilla, as well as apple cider (but won't drink it up public usually, considers it a 'weak' drink)

- I've got the headcanon that because he's an imp mutt (mixed with a shark demon) he got the sharks eyesight which is absolutely shit, but the imp side gave him snake like vision? Sees heat and cold better then anything.

- it does mean however that Striker knows when you're cold as shit and like the gentleman he is, plops his jacket on your shoulders without a word.

- love languages of acts of service and physical touch(?!?)

- his tail would wrap subconsciously around your waist in crowded areas so he has the assurance you haven't been lost in the sea of imps.

- hey hey you know the cowboy hat rule. That.

- basically if you wear a guys akubra (my aussie is showing) or cowboy hat, the saying is 'if you wear the cowboy hat you have to ride the cowboy'

- its the law trust me,don't look it up. No but really its like a known thing in that community I find it so funny

- anyways I'm stealing his hat, have a good day bestie <3

- Kotte

save a horse, am i right

all of these are so true, it’s exactly how i see him eso as a striker muse😭 i love him

i feel like he wouldn’t ask you to be his s/o upfront, especially if he genuinely cares about you and doesn’t want you wrapped up in the lifestyle he lives. ON THE OTHER HAAAND, if you both work in a similar field — he may let that slide

placing his hat on the top of your head whenever at a downtown bar. his tail hooking around your waist and pulling you against his chest, offering a hand towards the poor imp that tried flirting you up by the pool table.

“‘m striker — couldn’t help but notice you sweet talkin’ with my sugar from ‘cross the room — i didn’t appreciate that all that much.”

smooth talker, it’s just embedded into him!! the most poetic man you will ever meet, more so than a specific radio demon you’re acquaintance’s with. beautiful cursive writing because he doesn’t want a certain voxtek to know who the assassin is speaking to, so he writes to you instead.

all of his letters start with “my dear.” “my sweetheart.” “my pumpkin.” a tad territorial and needing to emphasize that whenever he can!!

brings you all types of flowers, gifts, or does anything for you.

i love striker so much

[thepenguinwriter]

*crashes into your writing room at full speed then gently pushes the door back into place*

Hello hello 👋

Could I get some of your Adam headcanons with a male crush or s/o 👉👈 someone who responds to his dumbass comments by just looking at him like ". . . Really bro?"

Thank you !!

Adam ☆ Fallin in love with a male reader

- ☆ In his whole afterlife, Adam lived in the belief that he was as straight as a line

- ☆ After all, he's fucking Adam! First man!

- ☆ Even when he started hanging out with you, it started off as him occasionally interrupting your work

- ☆ Just so he can get some attention from you, of course

- ☆ But as more and more time went on, he started experiencing... feelings for you

- ☆ He didn't know what to do with them

- ☆ So he just pretended they didn't exist!

- ☆ You didn't notice his usual behavior changing much

- ☆ He was always bragging about himself to you, or ranting about whatever he wanted

"So, there was this chick in the front row seats, and when-"

You gave Adam a silencing glare, holding both exasparation and confusion.

"The fuck you looking at me like that for?!"

- ☆ His signs started becoming more and more obvious to the point even Lute noticed

"Sir, you seem to have caught some.. feelings, for Y/N." The liutenant said in her usual flat voice. Adam looked up from his ribs with a dumbfounded look on his face. "Wha? No way! He's just my dude!"

- ☆ Adam would insist you take him with you every time you went anywhere

- ☆ Why? Uh.. uhmm.. protection, yeah!

- ☆ Totally not because he's clingy and needs your attention 24/7

- ☆ Of course he knew you'd be safe, you're in Heaven for fucks sake

"I just don't understand women these days! All they do is whine about equality and-" Adam noticed your face and huffed, furrowing his eyebrows. "Okay, fucking what are you looking at me for now?"

You sighed, shaking your head and planting a palm on your face. "You're so exhausting sometimes, Adam."

He scoffed and looked away dramatically from you. "Tch, you're so lame."

A/N: I know Kotte is a bigger writer than me but if you don't know them GO CHECK EM OUT RIGHT NOW.

[kotte-plays-make-believe]

ROLEPLAY PARTNER SUMMON

You can call me Kotte. I am twenty at the moment and use any pronouns. I'm from Australia, on the AEST timezone.

I've been role-playing since I was about fourteen. Originally on Quotev, and now mostly on discord! I write fairly descriptive replies varying anywhere from 500 to 1500 words, starters especially tend to be long. I love pulling writing ticks and styles from my favorite authors (Tolkien, George RR Martin, Terry Pratchett.) I'm more then happy to offer up a few examples of my role-play replies when asked!

I heavily prefer oc x canon and doubling up and honestly learning about other people's ocs is one of my favorite parts of role-playing! I adore headcanoning, exchanging aesthetics and playlists. I also like to draw others ocs!

I have a habit of using male x male for my ocs, just thought I would include this as I know some people are against roleplaying those pairings. I'm totally fine with any gender pairing! I'm happy to include nsfw topics and would prefer if the people I roleplay with are 18+.

At the moment I am most interested in a roleplay of The Hobbit or Game Of Thrones/House of the Dragon !

(The hobbit i have ocs for fili and kili, and game of thrones i have a wide collection of ocs for various characters)

I have a massive host of other fandoms im less hyperfixated on that I role-play, if you're super desperate for a certain fandom, feel free to shoot me a dm and I'll let you know if I know it!

[alastorss]

Here's you're weekly dose of me eating your writing for breakfast lunch and dinner <3

hi kotte i love you <3 make sure you get some sleep tonight

[tnc-n3cl]

More Rito Headcanons!

Something of an expansion of my "Rito Biology 101" post, but I'm not going to bother with the in-universe POV and talking about a couple different things here so...

Here's the original. Now that TotK is out, we got some new info so I'm going to go over things. (Namely a new Tribe for Penn and some thoughts on the aged up kiddos.) There my be some minor spoilers in the images, so I'm going to put them below the read more line.

Minor edit: 7/30/23, realized that one of the new NPC's mentioned something I forgot to talk about!

New Rito Guy! Penn is a reporter who you team up with for a few sidequests. Clearly he's some kind of pelican, so a quick search on Wikipedia and... Pelca Tribe (from Pelecanus the genus that contains all living pelicans)

So a couple things here. One: the triangles on his little sash reminds me of Kass' scarf. (What did you do to Kass Nintendo?!) Two: his outfit appears to be made of some kind of blue leather. I'm assuming that all Rito wear leather armor basically (except Saki and the little ones). Interestingly, I had drawn an axe that had talon grip handles in the axe head that are sometimes made out of leather sourced from blue monster hides. Doubt that's the case here since he's not a warrior but still...

His catchphrase... You can see they did the little hook on his beak! Is that yellow on his chest part of his clothes? Hm...

Including this because, A: this is quite possibly my favorite quote from him and B: you can see he has webbed feets! (Still say they should have given the Rito four toes but whatever...)

Look at his tiny pen and notebook! (The dangles on his hood are shaped like pens!)

Okay, that's enough Penn for now... In other news, new color morphs just dropped ya'll!

So the first guy looks like he might be a shade or two lighter than Huck, but the second guy is a new color altogether. We gots purple Orni Tribe Ritos now! Really don't have much to say about these two, but more variety is nice.

EDIT: Actually I do have something to say about Ornest. He mentions that all Rito have the ability to manipulate the wind, something I was theorizing to be the case. So, headcanon confirmed!

Moving on to the kiddos!

Kotts! Again her headband makes me think of her father's scarf and I miss him so much!

Here's BotW Kotts for comparison. As you can see, the white on her face is starting to fade, and she's lost her "bangs", and her head is starting to be more bird shaped. Rough estimation is that TotK is around 5 years after BotW and I'm assuming that she's 5 during BotW so that would make her 10 in TotK. (I'm going with Rito living around 80 years on average BTW).

She's almost as tall as Link! Also that dialog speaks to me on like, a molecular level. (She gets up at 10AM BTW) Also note her Saki-like clothing.

BotW Molli

TotK Molli

I, uh, don't think she grew at all...

She wants to make cool arrows so her dad will use them with his bows... (Why's there no emoji/emoticon button?! I need a big eyed sad face here!)

Speaking of her dad... Here enjoy this totally unrelated to anything I'm talking about shot of Harth actually standing! He gets to do stuff in this game guys! (Can you believe I almost forgot he existed when I went from BotW to Age of Calamity? How could I forget this unique bird?!)

Last but not least, Bird Son himself...

Tulin!!!! Look at this adorable little guy! LOOK AT HIM!!!!

I like to think he admires the hell out of Link and so he's mimicking Link's pose as much as he can. Speaking of which... Get that guy a cowboy outfit and a giant belt buckle!

Look at him some more!

So I don't know if that's eyeliner or just natural markings but he's doing his mom's thing and I can't even you guys!

I am SO normal about these birds...

*regains composure*

Okay, so what have we learned from this? Rito start off with blue sclera (the whites of the eye) when they're little. Around 10 or so the sclera becomes white and the irises are blue. Given that neither Kass nor Amali have blue eyes, I'm going to assume at some point their daughters will develop yellow eyes like them. Tulin... Let's just say his eyes stay blue.

Fluffy white baby feathers on the face slowly fade over the years until they their faces are solid colors (Orni Tribe at least). Tulin's little bun, is this like his mom's "hair" or more like his dad's floof? His he tying it back? You can make out something around the base of it in that second image of him so I think so... What if he ends up with a braid like the Ancient Wind Sage? (Why couldn't you just name them Nintendo? You could have just used the Divine Beasts' names and it would have been fine!)

None of the kids have proper tail feathers yet, so I hesitate to call them juveniles... Give them a few more years and they'll probably start growing them.

I like Penn, and pelican/waterfowl Rito fit in with ideas I was having for my fanfic so... Just gotta find a way to fit him in...

I made it so that different Rito settlements have different symbols. Normally these would be found on the cloth around their waist. However, Penn has this unique symbol on his chestpiece... Granted there's some similar symbols around the village but...

[kotte-store]

TELEPORT TO MAINSTORE

Landmark: The Sign II

Dragon Puppet information:

Exclusive group gift for kotte group members only (fee to join).

Blue/red dragon puppet with scroll.

Touch or edit to resize, right click edit to re-position.

Can also touch scroll to change texture or turn off.

Comes with texture to write your own message on scroll.

Thank you so much for the support ♥

Lots of love from, kotte by Angelica Song

Flickr Group: https://www.flickr.com/groups/2907492@N24/

________________________________________________________________

☞ Update log:

[ 2024.02.02 ] Released at mainstore.

[makeyoumine69]

Ooh, will you please analyze the scene between Patrick and Evelyn? Specifically where he breaks up with her? I would really love to hear your thoughts behind it. Why did he end things with her? He mentioned that he was feeling homicidal and nothing else could satisfy him anymore, but was that all there really was to it? Did they really love each other or was it all superficial? Please give me your thoughts queen!!

Hello, dear anon!💕

Well, referring to the book, I can say that Patrick and Evelyn never loved each other because they both had affairs and their engagement was pretty fake. But Patrick really tried to give their relationship a fresh start when they went to Tim's vacation house. I'd include a passage from the novel:

I really tried to make things work the weeks we were out there. Evelyn and I rode bicycles and jogged and played tennis. We talked about going to the south of France or to Scotland; we talked about driving through Germany and visiting unspoiled opera houses. We went windsurfing. We talked about only romantic things: the light on eastern Long Island, the moonrise in October over the hills of the Virginia hunt country. We took baths together in the big marble tubs. We had breakfast in bed, snuggling beneath cashmere blankets after I’d poured imported coffee from a Melior pot into Hermès cups. I woke her up with fresh flowers. I put notes in her Louis Vuitton carry bag before she left for her weekly facials in Manhattan. I bought her a puppy, a small black chow, which she named NutraSweet and fed dietetic chocolate trues to. I read long passages aloud from Doctor Zhivago and A Farewell to Arms (my favorite Hemingway). I rented movies in town that Price didn’t own, mostly comedies from the 1930s, and played them on one of the many VCRs, our favorite being Roman Holiday, which we watched twice. We listened to Frank Sinatra (only his 1950s period) and Nat King Cole’s After Midnight, which Tim had on CD. I bought her expensive lingerie, which sometimes she wore.

But nothing really worked, quote:

At night I’d place a faux-concrete and aluminum-wire sconce by Jerry Kott over Evelyn’s head and since she’d be so knocked out on Halcion she wouldn’t brush it off, and though I laughed at this, while the sconce rose evenly with her deep breathing, soon it made me sad and I stopped placing the sconce over Evelyn’s head.

Everything failed to subdue me. Soon everything seemed dull: another sunrise, the lives of heroes, falling in love, war, the discoveries people made about each other. The only thing that didn’t bore me, obviously enough, was how much money Tim Price made, and yet in its obviousness it did. There wasn’t a clear, identifiable emotion within me, except for greed and, possibly, total disgust. I had all the characteristics of a human being—flesh, blood, skin, hair—but my depersonalization was so intense, had gone so deep, that the normal ability to feel compassion had been eradicated, the victim of a slow, purposeful erasure. I was simply imitating reality, a rough resemblance of a human being, with only a dim corner of my mind functioning. Something horrible was happening and yet I couldn’t figure out why—I couldn’t put my finger on it. The only thing that calmed me was the satisfying sound of ice being dropped into a glass of J&B.

So, in my opinion, their connection was just a matter of the society they lived in, since Bateman was at the age when men were used to getting married, and Evelyn was just a suitable option for such a thing, but in the end, when he realized that his dark nature was taking over, he decided to break up with her, and that was only for the better.

I hope my "analysis" isn't too terrible, because I'm not good at that! Thanks for sending me your ask, it was a lot of fun writing all of this!

[ameowralism]

main @copenshower / homosexual ⚢ / medical transsexual / 25 (i block minors) ♡

name's kotte (or suvorov). pronouns are w/e

interests:

philosophy (babygirls/main influences: nietzsche, freud, schopenhauer. curious of: wittgenstein, merleau-ponty, bataille, foucault, marcuse, reich. i apologise for being an unironic nietzschean-freudist but it will happen again)

neuroscience, sociobiology (please read sapolski it's so worth it), evolutionary biology, genetics, sexology

history (lately mostly weird niches of the ww2 period, but i was more versatile in the past), literature, languages, art (i write lame poetry and read a lot, and speak some languages a bit. i am esl)

media:

classic literature (nabokov, eco, kafka... big fan of "lolita" as psychological horror)

horror, especially but not limited to cosmic horror, folk horror and psychological horror (been sitting in this genre a lot, in both literature and film, and other forms) i'm a great slut for indie/art horror film

dystopias, mainly "1984" but also "brave new world" and whatever (i don't consider them realistic, hyperbole rather than warning, but i like them. no i don't think everything is licherally 1984)

other than that: anime sometimes, noir thriller, "chernobyl" series, shakespeare

aesthetics:

i really love art so you're gonna have a lot of it, ranging from classical to contemporary abstract, paintings, sculptures, photographs

weird fashion and architecture

vintage stuff, history (dark or not)

horror, horror art, artistic gore & anatomy, medical

goth vibes, vampirism and related, edgy memento mori stuff, dark folklore, anything morbid really

machinery, industrial, liminal spaces, oddities, web pre-3.0/old internet

lovecore or whatever is the name of that and also pretty food, i just fucking love heart shaped things and cherries, expect some other cute stuff too

cats, expect a lot of these + i'm gay, so gay culture posting is tagged #lgbt

music: lately very into david bowie and dabbling in nine inch nails, in general mostly indie rock of various kinds as well as electropop, electronic and some metal cause why the fuck not, sometimes post-punk, coldwave etc. lately getting into industrial

i am also an eastern european white jew (secular), autistic and mentally ill mildly speaking (insert laundry list of diagnoses including cluster b and dissociative), one of the girlcats heralded by nietzsche in thus spoke zarathustra positively. i was reported to interpol once.

'man or woman?'

the flesh that hates

internet socialised edgelord

walking red flag

frangrantica user (tm)

many other last names!

mówię po polsku i chętnie poznam polaków

this blog contains horror, gore, disturbing art and whatever else the fuck, also ocassional nsfw content. it's obviously not safe for minors nor meant for underage audiences. not a safe space for stupid people either since i'm just not a safe person for yall.

i don't check who follows me or who i reblog from, i don't follow all people i reblog from randomly. if there's something wrong with them i either don't know or don't care.

mutuals can ask for discord/signal/telegram

i have a neocities website!

[georgefurth]

“It makes me dizzy just writing about [George Furth]. From the moment I met George Furth, backstage at the Broadway opening of his and Stephen Sondheim’s musical “Merrily We Roll Along,” my life became a whirlwind of five a.m. phone calls, invitations to dinner parties with legendary Broadway stars, requests to read and help re-write whatever he was working on at the time, loud, long dinners with George’s partner Demmy Tambakos, louder, longer lunches with his mother in Pasedena, crazy-fast car trips to restaurants, merciless critiques of women I dated, non-stop suggestions about how I should relive my life, phone messages telling me that “Steve loved your idea about Act Two,” though never mentioning my name to maestro Sondheim, renting me his house in the Hollywood Hills for a year then announcing with no warning that he was moving back in, insisting that I had the wrong parents, the wrong agent, but the right talent and the right insight to trust me with the task of reading and writing a report on the script he cowrote with Mr. Sondhein for their upcoming Broadway production of “Getting Away With Murder.” Surprisingly, I found structural problems with the play from page one, wrote it in my report, only to be savagely, brutally eviscerated by George, the last time we ever spoke. Was I the only one that thought the play had problems? Clearly not. Months later, even critics rooting for everything, anything Sondheim, thought little of the play, leading to an early closing. A year passed without so much as a word from George Furth, and vice versa. One day I received in the mail a thick manilla envelope with a note from George telling me that he just finished writing a new play and fashioned the character of Tom after me, a manuscript I never read, that still sits in its unopened manilla envelope, stashed in a box in storage. Oh, it makes me dizzy just imagining what George Furth wrote about that character Tom.”

— Gary Kott, https://garykott.com/more-about-but-not-forgotten/

[kottkrig]

To Embrace The Shadow: Omen of Death

Sister Zala, a restless undead elf and the only one accustomed to the wilds, continues the search on her own.

World of Warcraft | Original Characters

Light Angst | Found Family

—————————–

Zala avoided other people in the coming days. The murderers had finally been dispatched, and she witnessed their leader die in the same inferno that he used on his victims, but vengeance wasn’t enough to calm her. He could have died a thousand deaths, and it still wouldn't be enough. Ater all of the bloodshed was over, and her ears were ringing from the silence that followed, she just felt hollow.

She would never be able to forget. They hurt what few friends she had, they scarred her reflection with holy fire, and in her time of need, took away the person she loved the most.

Out of the three, she had been the most eager to bring that invisible raven out of Lafayette’s vision, insisting that it must be a sign of the Shadow Mother. The others agreed with her, seeing no other explanation for its incredulous presence, but when they managed to coax the bird out, it snubbed them by escaping the forest. Returning home with nothing but another reminder of their loss, Zala left Lafayette and Cletus to their papers and prayers, while she slipped out into the night.

Being a restless young woman, she chose to continue the hunt alone. If anything, it was an excuse to distract her from nightmares about witnessing her mentor being immolated. As a ranger, most of her tasks were relegated to the outdoors, and people didn’t question her when she left for a while, as long as she eventually reported in. It usually took her mind off of things to scour Deathknell, but all that she could think about was that raven. It was too overt for it to just coincidentally be the only thing from the Void to watch over the lake.

Lafayette and Cletus kept their objective a secret, but days of nothing dragged on, and the two were talking about shifting focus when the raven was nowhere to be found. It was probably just some strange critter they took from its home realm, they told her, and it was now soaring freely on the mortal plane. Irresponsible if true, and out of their reach, regardless.

She was the only one who refused to sit still. She berated the others for being so placid, accusing them of giving up, but they reiterated that they were duty-bound men and worked on solving the mystery when they could. Cletus had become twice as busy, and Lafayette couldn't see most of the time, so she had to be their scout. The three of them were still a unit, and she was going to fill the role that only a ranger could play.

Zala watched the skies, convinced that the raven would show up. More days of scouring western Lordaeron, more nights of returning home with nothing to show for, except bags of nature’s resources to cover her tracks. She was getting increasingly disheartened.

Until one night, when she finally found it. The raven had chosen a branch high above her usual route, as if it was waiting for her. That was what she told herself, at least. She didn’t try to capture it. Although undead now, Zala was still an elf, and knew best to be careful with nature and its inhabitants. But in her mind, this was no ordinary bird. It must be smarter than just walking into her simple traps.

She wanted the raven to know that she was there for it, but she was running out of excuses to constantly leave the village, and couldn’t afford to lose her quarry. She tried speaking to it, addressed it as she would her mentor–minn’do–and while it didn’t respond, it didn’t fly off either. Every time she could head outside, she found the raven, watching her. She was allowed to get closer with time, sitting under the trees where it rested, but when it was offered her hand, it shied away. Zala respected its space. Frustrated as she was, she kept on trying. In her eyes, this was the furthest any of them had gotten.

When it was close enough, she noticed that the raven had indigo eyes, and she could sense the familiar presence of the Shadow on it. The clergy often used ravens as representative motifs, or they were manifested through their spellwork; Zala had conjured Shadow Ravens herself in the past, utilizing them for her practice.

The bird didn’t make as much as a single croak, but it stayed with her longer and longer. It must be a sign. Minn’do must be using them to catch Zala’s attention, and it worked. Her determination was showing progress!

More days passed. The ranger would regularly run through the woods around Deathknell, and the raven would follow. Zala smiled with all of her fangs on display when it trusted her enough to join her patrols. She dashed past the mine to the northwest and headed for the hills, using her catlike agility to swing herself up a tree that reached high above the valley. Choosing a sturdy branch, she sat with her back against the trunk and her legs swinging in the breeze. The raven landed a few steps further out.

They watched over Lordaeron together. This land had become her home, one that she chose herself, among people who spitefully prided themselves on being anomalies. The Forsaken were a strange people, known to be leery and macabre, but they were traits that she shared with them. She wasn’t comfortable with all of them–especially not the military–and Lordaeronian forests were measly compared to Kalimdor, but she had come to like the creepiness. The other undead elves she met here were more relatable than any living.

Zala was unlucky in life and never found kinship with other Kaldorei. Many tearful days she left behind her, enraged over the injustice of being born under a roof where you had to be loud to be seen. She was made to worship a goddess that picked favorites even among her favored people, and Zala was not one of those privileged few.

She knew that she wasn’t easy to love. Her limited control had her berated, ignored or thrown out, until she couldn’t take it anymore and stopped begging for scraps of approval. At times, she didn’t even mean to act out, feeling as if she was piloting a body that defied her will, and her living family chose their deity above their difficult daughter. Love, as she knew it, was conditional. When she became undead during the Fourth War, little of value was lost, as no one would be missing her.

All of this, she had confided in Mother Lucretia, and with the matron’s guidance, the elf found comfort in a different kind of darkness. There was no conditional love from the Shadow of the Void; it wasn’t a prejudiced deity. It just was. Endless, chaotic, unforgiving. Anyone could behold the maddening abyss, but you had to work on your resilience against its whispers to tap into it. Zala often struggled, but she had a patient mentor; and at last, she had something to work for. Someone to make proud.

All of this, she retold for the attentive raven. Every time she reminisced on her life, the pain was becoming less difficult to deal with, as she now had a family who accepted her flaws. Despite their promises, however, she was worried that their patience would inevitably run out.

Confessing her woes brought a lump to her throat. She was robbed of her minn’do‘s guidance, and she was drained from trying so hard all the time. Practicing the Forgotten Shadow’s second tenet, Tenacity, was exhausting when she feared disappointment wherever she went. She cursed under her breath and descended the tree. She had to return to the clergy with another empty report, and while each failure hurt, she was going to force herself to keep trying. Minn’do would have encouraged her to keep trying.

Zala jumped when the raven flapped down right next to her. She offered her arm, and the bird landed face to face with her.

Indigo eyes met her red. This was the first time that they had come in direct contact. It leaned forward and inclined its head. Zala felt compelled to do the same, and the raven closed the distance by connecting its forehead with hers.

Then, she heard it. It was quiet and weaker than she knew, but it was unmistakable. Inside her mind, the Shadow reciprocated her tenacity, and returned to her the voice that she had been chasing day and night.

“Thank you, Sister.”

[starglitterstudies]

Tuesday, December 13

To do:

skim articles for PBL

read and summerize Kotte (2022)

write and submit the Memo

outline coaching portfolio

wash dishes

genshin dailies

read for 30 min

draw for 30 min

Nice things that happened today:

Made a vegan banana bread. Not my most successful attempt because I didn’t have enough flour and the dough didn’t rise enough—but it tastes good, so that’s good enough for me.

Found a nice playlist on Spotify.

Not-so-nice things that happened today:

Realized just how behind I am on my coursework, like... fuck.

Also realised that my mechanical keyboard switches are not hot-swappable so I can’t change the faulty switch I have by myself. Great.

[elizaneals]

Second Review of 2023 comes from #thenetherlands 🇳🇱 "Detroit-born #ElizaNeals is a classically trained #operasinger who – luckily for us – has turned to blues and rock... she has a growing fan base among both the public and her fellow musicians. The latter is evidenced by collaborations (recording) with artists such as #PopaChubby, #JoeLouisWalker, (opening for) #TonyJoeWhite, (headlined his club) #BuddyGuy to name a few. In addition to being a #singer, she is an #excellentpianist, writes her own songs and #produces her own records. Her tenth album has recently been released, containing nine self-written songs. She is supported by an #excellentband with Lance Lopez (guitar), Peter Keys (B3), Jason Kott (bass), Michael Puwal (guitar, bass) and a handful of others. She immediately pulls off with a '#UnitedWeStand' built on a #BoDiddley rhythm. The second song '#QueenOfTheNile' immediately slows down a bit. Eliza shows that she can handle both the raw and the somewhat quieter work. Her voice is full, has a good range and a raw edge. Her classical singing training will partly be due to the fact that she has complete control over her vocals and that it never comes across as screaming. Guitarist Lance Lopez also has a leading role in the latter song and he plays the #starsofheaven here and in three other songs. Michael Puwal shines in four other songs, including '#LockdownLove'. The only cover, #SteveWinwood's "#CantFindMyWayHome" gets a more than excellent, somewhat slow-looking edit, in which Lopez again learns. An #excellentalbum and an absolute must." By #EricCampfens 8/10⭐️'s Thank You @barnowlblues your review is getting around to the #rocknroll world 💙 #NewMusic #MusicReview #starttheyearright #backitup #BadderToTheBone #soulbues #newblues #oldblues #BluesRock (at Keukenhof,Holland) https://www.instagram.com/p/CnrmcBWuhTG/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[zeldahijinks]

Kass' kids loving his S/o and they keep trying to get them to sing with them? scenario maybe?

[A/N: I love bird dad. Like fhi’djk;vbsf;gkjkbgr df. Also sorry I’m such a dork with family time.]

Playing with Kass’ kids

 A smile reached your lips as you looked over the five girls clambering over their father. A laughed escaped you every now and then, but decided to get up seeing Kass looking a little worn out. He was doing his best to give each of his daughters attention, but his eyes were crossing and you figured it was time to step in. The moment you were an arms length away is when all their eyes locked on you, and out of habit you tensed.

 You readied yourself in the stand off, each of you squinting at each other, and arms posed over imaginary weapons. Cree was the first to begin side stepping and her sisters followed in tow. Your eyes squint farther down and ignored the snorts coming from Kass. You cracked your neck, your voice rumbling low, “Well now…Looks like it’s just me and you gals.”

 Kheel stepped forward, self claiming leader today, “It seems that way.” She squinted as she side glanced her father, “I take it you’re here for him.”

 You flexed your fingers, “Indeed, I am. I came to put an end to your vicious ways.”

 Kheel looked back to her sisters all the while suppressing a giggle and nodded to them. They all gather near her and blocked Kass behind them. He easily smiled, resting his head on his wing while lounging on the ground. You had to prevent your eyes from rolling at his relax attitude, especially since you were putting yourself on the line.

 Kheel’s voice broke you from your train of thoughts, “You know how this goes, [Name]. We have a price.”

 You squinted, adopting a strange accent, “Well, that’s gonna be tough, girls. I didn’t bring you no salmon today.”

 “Ah, what! Were you planning to before?” Kotts whined out and Kheel whipped around at her sister.

 “Kotts! You ruined the atmosphere!” Kheel shook her head as Kotts just shrugs. Kheel whipped back around and straighten her back and gazed at you in an authority manner. “Well, I was gonna say that you gotta sing for us. If you want us to set our da- oh uh, the prisoner free you have to sing one song!” She looked triumphant as her sisters crowded around and began yammering excitedly.  

You pretend to mull it over and stroke your chin in thought. “Well, I could…but then I could also just leave. He doesn’t seem to be suffering too much.”

 “Ouch, [Name].” Kass smirked, placing a wing on his chest, “You wound me.”

 “Oh be quiet, you’re a prisoner, remember?” You laughed out, trying to keep a serious face, but failing miserably.

 “One song!” Kheel reminded.

 “Just one?” You mused with a devious smile. 

 “Yes~!” They all called out. You raised a brow and shrugged before inhaling deeply and closing your eyes. The girls waited in anticipation while Kass began to roll away.

 The sunset shown on your form casting you in a heavenly glow and as you opened your mouth the girls were so enthralled finally getting to hear your voice. 

 The most off-key screeching fell from your throat causing the girls to tensed. Your voice cracked as you sang the ballad and you had to suppress a smirk seeing the girls protect their hearing and cried out. As soon as they began to cry “Stop” you ceased your singing and hopped over to them.

 “Well, how was it?” You smiled cheekily and they all looked at you as if you grew three heads.  

 “We gotta teach you how to sing!” They cried out and turned to Kass, who was nowhere to be seen. “Dad, you suck! Where are you!?”

[x0401x]

Jeweler Richard Fanbook Short Story #3

Feel free to message me about possible corrections, and please consider supporting the creators by purchasing digital copies of the official releases: Novel || Manga || Fanbook. In case anyone is feeling generous: Ko-fi | PayPal. ( ╹◡╹)っ’･*

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T/N: Okay, so, this is one of those chapters where the author makes mistakes in linguistics (but she’s trying, guys, she’s trying!). She writes “prasinon” as “prase” for some reason, and I took the liberty to fix it myself when translating.

Connecting Chrysoprase

Jewelry Etranger sat inconspicuously at Ginza 7-choume. The store owner, Richard, was the possessor of a beauty that you couldn’t think was from this world, but no matter how beautiful he was, once half a year had passed, you would get used to it. And as I got used to him, the questions also surfaced.

“Hey, Richard, don’t you have any favorite foods other than sweets? Do you eat ramen or anything like that?”

Mr. Richard Ranashinha de Vulpian looked at me with scrutinizing blue eyes. Sitting on the red sofa, he had been observing the contents of a large jewel box, holding them up over his head against the morning light shining in from the window.

“I find difficult to figure the aim of the question. Why ramen? I have had meals with you numerous times. I eat anything without likes or dislikes.”

“I know. It’s not like it’s limited to just ramen, but you don’t eat that kind of stuff much, do you?”

Like chives. Or garlic. Or grilled meat dripping with juices.

I knew that this didn’t suit his image. He was a man whose features seemed to have accidentally come out of a dream world. If he told me that he could live off eating department store sweets and pink roses, he could probably have me seriously convinced up to about 70%. That was exactly why I would feel like searching for a gap.

As I was about to ask if he understood this logic, Richard replied curtly with a clay doll-like face, “What ill intentions.”

That was true. I wasn’t some obsessive follower of an idol’s personal life or anything. Richard hit bull’s-eye with the deduction that I “probably ate ramen yesterday”. For some reason, things got awkward. I was in a position where it was better to retreat for a while. Time to change the subject.

“What stone is that? Looks like candy and it’s pretty cute.”

“A type of chalcedony. They are in the same category as crystals. In particular, this one with a milky apple-green color is called chrysoprase.

“Ah~...”

What Richard was pinching with his bare hands - because it was safer to touch it with bare skin rather than wearing gloves, he said, as it wouldn’t cause any damage - was a pale green, round stone. It had low transparency, was cut en cabochon and looked like an old-style candy.

“W-What was it again? The name. Chry...?”

“‘Chrysoprase’,” Richard repeated for me.

How many times had something like this happened? The stone’s name was in a Western language. Basically, all of them were in katakana. My ears did register it, but I couldn’t memorize it in one go at all. Richard was a helpful person, so there were times when he wrote down the names in romaji and explained them to me, but I honestly couldn’t keep up with him. There were countless stones in this world.

“Chryso... aah, no good. It’s hard to memorize.”

“‘Chrysoprase’. It is said to be a stone that helps to harmonize and integrate personalities. Medieval European literature also mentions it as a stone that Alexander the Great loved.”

Alexander the Great. A person I had learned about in high school. Even I knew that name. The fact that a stone adored by a warlord who had long passed away was still loved by people of the current times was thought-provoking. The range of the gemstone world was broad. But, well, leaving that as that.

“How d’you memorize stones’ names? It’s not like you’ve got some test to do like in a history class...”

“Do you think anyone would buy goods from a trader who cannot even say their names?”

“I don’t, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s hard. There’s lots of types and they sound like magic spells. Like ‘Sri Jayawardenepura Kotte’. It wouldn’t be weird if you felt like cheating without a care in the world. You got any trick for memorizing them?”

“My compliments to you for being able to pronounce the official name of Sri Lanka’s capital. But I cannot praise the part about carelessly deceiving people. Once your reputation falls to earth, it does not recover so easily. To begin with, your perception of business in general is too lax for someone enrolled in the Faculty of Economics. I know you have the aspiration, but if you do not pair it to practical abilities and skills, you will be running idle. Shouldn’t you try to improve these skills once again so that you can avoid unnecessary hardships in the future? Instead of obsessing over finding out something unexpected about the shopkeeper from your part-time job.”

The arguments were so spot-on that I was at a loss for words. Even so, still with a slightly exasperated face, Richard continued to speak. Most likely, it was his gentle side’s turn from here on out.

“Still, you are right, I do have a trick. If I were to use the capital as an example, ‘Sri Jayawardenepura Kotte’ had its original name ‘Kotte’ being embellished with the title of ‘President Jayawardene’s Sacred City’. When you know the origin of it, doesn’t this line-up of katakana letters that only appears in magic spells turn into meaningful words?”

“So it had that kind of meaning? I see...”

“Is this time to be impressed? Do the same and discover the relatedness of all kinds of matters in your daily life. If you direct your eyes to the depths of your history without sticking to the surface, I guarantee that your world will broaden much more richly.”

“Then what about the chrysoprase of just now?”

As I took a stab at arousing his enthusiasm, the volubly beautiful shop owner smiled gorgeously. I felt that this guy would stay in a good mood forever just as long as I gave him sweets and let him talk about gems. And I liked Richard’s face the most when he was in his best mood.

“This word is taken from the Greek language. It consists of two separate words, ‘chrysos’ and ‘prasinon’. The meaning of chrysos is ‘gold’. The bright golden that can be seen showing through within the green was associated with gold. Prasinon means...”

What happened? His enunciation suddenly got bad.

When I urged him to continue, Richard looked down at the stone in his hand with a dull look and sighed a little. “The meaning of prasinon... comes close to plants such as chives or green onions.”

“Ooh—!”

As I clapped my hands together with an “all paths lead to ramen”, Richard made a face like he had just woken up from a nightmare. What is it? Please laugh.

“In any case, the mental attitude of trying to master something is commendable. I pray that your efforts will bear fruit.”

“Thanks, thanks. Well, will you eat ramen after all?”

Mr. Richard, the jeweler, looked at me with an awfully sharp gaze. What was that face? His facial expression looked like the usual nuance that he was growing fond of my foolishness had increased to about 30%. Did he intend to poke fun on me?

“Yes, yes, I will.”

“What do you prefer? Like miso or soy sauce?”

“A large helping of green onions and garlic. And even then, it is good to grate raw garlic and put in it.”

“That’s a pretty hardcore taste for someone who works with close-contact service business.”

“Which is why this is not something I can eat whenever. I eat it carefully by myself when I do not have to meet anyone the next day.”

As my eyes widened, the beautiful storekeeper raised his chin arrogantly. Did he want to say that this didn’t suit his image or had it just unfolded anew?

“How was it, did you enjoy the so-called ‘gap’?”

“No, it’s not like that’s the main goal.”

“Hah?”

“I can’t invite anyone for a French cuisine restaurant or a high-class sweets store, but if it’s a ramen shop, there’s lots of them near my university. If you like, why don’t we go eat together next time? They’re mostly shops that seem better to drop by wearing a t-shirt rather than a suit, but I wanna try chatting with you while eating this kind of junky stuff every now and then.”

“For you to discover a new unexpected thing about me, you mean?”

“I just wanna get along with you better.”

For an instant, Richard’s facial expression strained hard. What was up? His face looked like he hadn’t known better and bit a sour pickled plum or something. As I furrowed my brows, his blue eyes narrowed, looking glum, while he closed the jewel box with a click and stood up.

“Ah, show me more. It wasn’t nearly enough—”

“The chrysoprase is said to have the power to put the balance of mind and body in order, as well as make it spring up comfortably. Perhaps because its fresh grass color is a reminder of spring. Isn’t this stone unnecessary for you, since you are always in a festive mood?”

“Why’re you angry?”

“I am not.”

“Shouldn’t you take a better look at the chrysoprase?”

“Thank you for the unnecessary meddling.”

Leaving me with things to say, Richard disappeared into the back room. Was it that bad to invite him to a ramen shop? It wasn’t a good idea to let him stay angry, so I voluntarily prepared two cups of royal milk tea in the kitchenette. Having come out into the reception room, Richard said nothing more than the expected as he drank a tea that had a little more sugar in it than usual.

After the customer of that morning had gone home, Richard showed me the chrysoprase once again. Upon a better look, I understood the meaning of that naming, which I couldn’t think of as anything more than a mystery at first. Didn’t the people of ancient times think that this was a plant born from gold? The uneven surface was smooth and wavy like an organic body. Chrysoprase. Gold and green onions. Even though there were several gems in this world, I would probably never forget the name of this one. If I ever got to eat ramen with Richard someday, I would definitely bring up this stone.

“Do you remember that talk?” I would ask.

[artharakka]

Mmmm I feel like sharing stuff about my oc’s

BUT you guys don’t actually know even about their existence. SO if you want to know about my little dudes or even just send me some warm up prompts, pick a character of mine from below based on their name and I’ll draw and write something in between work:

Cor

Dienne

Ferdinand

Hilja

Kasimira

Kehrä

Kotte

Maggie

Marras

Naakka

Rauna

Ruis

Tuulikki

Velka

Willow

(or if you want, dragon age and elder scrolls characters/versions of characters:

Daro’ruis

Paju

Petja Cousland

Sonera Lavellan

Velka Mahariel)