#metal structure concepts | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

justanotherbirdbrain-blog · 1 year ago

Text

A Workshop for Creating Magical/ Fictional Crystals: A Guide from a Geologist

Hi folks, its me, here to talk about fictional writing again! Today I'm just tackling the idea of magical stones/mana stones by looking at existing minerals today and some neat properties that they have, and how you can apply these things to a fictional world. The goal is mainly to help you if you are stuck trying to come up with a unique magic system, or a unique identification/characteristic of your mineral.

First Things First: Mineral Shapes

I am exhausted, petered out, down-right fatigued by seeing every mineral depicted with having the crystal structure of calcite and quartz. There are soooooo many cooler, more interesting crystal structures, don't you think you would stop and take a look at a perfect cube in nature? It is completely unsettling.

Second: Color

Color within minerals can either be really important, or not important at all! It is your choice to decide if color is going to be something that means something to your mineral. But what are some times when the color is important? Well.... there are some elements that are called chromophores, this classification just indicates that these elements, when present, will determine the color of whatever they are in. So, if you wanted to treat mana like a chromophore, you could say, "Oh everything that contains mana turns green!" This could mean that regardless of the mineral, if that mineral is a specific color, it means it contains mana. This concept is exciting because you can just stop here and use minerals that already exist! You can also use it as an indicator for a magical ore! Chromophores are typically metals, so if you are making a new metal weapon, making the ore of that metal a unique color would make a lot of sense!

However, your mineral can also just be every color of the rainbow like quartz and perhaps that's what makes identifying your mana stones elusive and create an illusion of scarcity that your character can solve.

There are other things that can change the colors of minerals, like radiation damage, and electron exchange, but I think that is beyond what would be helpful! So lets talk about some unique color properties that happen in nature that seem magical in the first place! Maybe you don't need to design a mana stone, but you want a unique gemstone that only the royal family passes down or something (IDK).

The first one is the alexandrite effect! This is where a mineral can change color in natural light vs. incandescent light. (the mineral itself is not changing, but the lights contain different amounts of different colors that then get absorbed by the stone). Even if you don't use electricity in your fictional world, you could have the colors change in the presence of light magic. This could create fun misunderstandings about what the mineral is reacting to!

Pleochroism

Pleochroism is something that most minerals have, it is frequently used to help identify minerals in thin sections, however minerals are usually not pleochroic enough for it to be visible to the naked eye! Pleochroism is just a fancy name to describe the change in how light is absorbed based on the angle of the mineral! So if you scroll up to the first image where I showed a lot of crystal shapes, most of them have angles where they are longer and shorter! This will effect the way light travels in the crystal. Tanzanite is a popular mineral that does this.

Photochromism

This is when a mineral will change color (in a reversible way) when exposed to UV light (or sunlight), I am not going to go too into the details of why this is happening because it would require me to read some research papers and I just don't feel like it. The mineral that is best known for this is Hackmanite!

Alright! These are all the really cool color effects that might inspire you or maybe not, but now I am going to talk about how you might find your minerals within a rock!

When I see a lot of magical caves/mines, typically I see them with some variation of a geode honestly, but most minerals are not found like that! Now I am sure most of you guys have seen a geode, so I will not really talk about those, but I will talk briefly about porphyroblasts which is when the mineral grows larger than the minerals around it, this happens in metamorphic minerals!

sorry random stranger, but this is an image of garnets inside a finer-grained rock at gore mountain in New York!

Another way you might find minerals is in a pegmatite! This is when all minerals are really large! This is a formed from really slow crystalizing magma!

But something else to think about is that your mineral might just be massive, it doesn't have to have distinct crystals, it may be similar to jadeite where small grains grow together which leaves it looking smooth and seamless! A note about all of these is that you would have to mine into the rock to find these, there would not be any natural caves in these rocks! Caves are only ever really formed in limestones and maybe marbles (rocks that react with acid).

How can your characters identify these minerals?

Typically when you are out in the field you will look to see what type of rocks the minerals are found in (The overall texture of the rock will tell you how it formed). If you know how the rock formed, it will narrow down the amount of minerals you need to think about by quite a bit! Next, you are going to look closely at it and observe its crystal structure, does it have an obvious crystal? if so what is the general shape? If it is broken, how did it break? Did it fracture like glass or did it break along uniform planes. Some minerals have a thing called cleavage (breaks along planes of weakness). If a mineral exhibits this habit, it will again help narrow this down. Next we can look at color. Color can be misleading, because minerals like quartz can be any color imaginable, but minerals like olivine will always be green! The next thing your character can do is test for hardness, minerals all have a specific hardness that can help identify it as well.

After you go through all of this, your mineral might have some special property! This could be magnetism, fluorescence, reactions to acid, or any of the color changing effects I mentioned above! Other than that, your character can take it back to a lab and do a number of things to identify it, but the most typical thing would be for them to make a thin section (very thin piece of the rock) and observe it under a cross polarized microscope!

On that note folks! I hope this helped in some way in thinking of new magic mineral properties! I have other guides that explore some different fictional worldbuilding issues you might run into, but if you have any topics you would like me to cover please that I haven't mentioned already, let me know!

#geology #rocks #creative writing #fictional world #worldbuilding #dnd #dnd worldbuilding #worldbuilding stuff #writing resources #info post #information #writing

6K notes · View notes

imaroyalmess · 5 months ago

Text

An Apprentice’s (Unofficial) Guide to House Garments

based on @energ00n 's apprentice AU! (i'm obsessed with the concept of apprentices making up garment rules)

Wc: 2.1k

The datapad—an older model with discolored spots, showing where servos touched its framing—is the first thing Orion Pax’s optics land on as he walks into his new room. Orion snatches the datapad and tilts his helm as he reads the title over again. A peek at the contents shows that it begins with Hey newbie followed by three exclamation glyphs (an overabundance of any glyph, if you asked Orion).

Orion glances up and catches his own gaze in a mirror hanging in front of him. It’s strange, seeing two sheer fabric pieces delicately flowing over the hard metal of his arms—he’s hesitant to move his arm joints in fear of tearing it. That, as well as the jewelry occupying the space where his cog would be creates a vision that’ll take some getting used to.

He pries his optics away and down to the datapad again, dermas pinching as his processor whirrs. Prima explained to him how to care for his garment personally and what if, since the datapad looks old, the data was outdated? No, safer to follow Prima’s instructions and not confuse himself.

Orion places the datapad to the side and sets off to explore his new home.

Hello newbie!!!

Congratulations to you and your new position! There’s so much you need to know before you get started. If you wanna make friends, then you’ll wanna keep reading, little mech!

It’s most important that you know about your House garment. No, no, not how to wash oil stains out of it (though that’s good to know!), I’m talking about the meaning behind what you do with it.

Lucky for you, I’ve compiled a list for your easy reference! Learn them well, little mech!!

DO: Wear your House garment at all times! I’ve been told it’s respectful to the Primes. Also helpful so we can tell each other apart. Usually only an apprentice’s special somebot sees them without it! Even then, maybe not.

D-16 has always been a stickler for the rules. It’s structure—it’s security. He can’t afford to slip up and never lets that resolve waver. So how exactly did he let pretty blue optics lure him into a cargo hold that supposedly has a passage leading into the (highly forbidden) archives? D-16 isn’t sure.

“Orion Pax,” D-16 hisses, “you idiot, there’s no way—”

Orion hushes him with a digit to his dermas and a wink. D-16 lowers his voice. “Why did you drag me into this?”

Orion pries the cover away from the passage and lowers it to the ground, a soft clank echoing. “I need you to keep watch for me, ‘kay? It’s a tight squeeze for me so you definitely wouldn’t fit.”

D-16 frowns, a retort fully prepped in his processor, but then Orion unclips his garment and D-16’s vocalizer short circuits. For a horrifying and long nanoklik, only static emits from his voice box. “Wh–Pax, what are you doing?!”

“I told you.” Orion rolls his optics. “Barely enough room in there and I can’t risk ripping my clothes up. Prima would offline me.”

He slips the sheer fabric over his helm and presents it to D-16 with splayed servos. Primus, help him. It takes D-16 exactly 1.46 kliks to reboot and shake his helm vehemently. “No? I…you want me to—”

“It’s just my garment,” Orion states, playful but also firm in a way that says I don’t have time to argue. “I’m not asking you to do anything else. Keep it safe?”

Just my garment. If Orion’s antics don’t get him expelled, his cluelessness would. However, he’s correct about one thing, and it’s that their time is running out.

D-16 half-snatches half-cradles the garment, careful not to let the ends touch the ground. With a deep intake D-16 says, “Go. Before they spot us.”

Orion grins, scrambling his way through the crawl space, leaving D-16 to listen for passing mechs. The fabric feels smooth between his digits.

DON’T: touch another apprentice’s attire, especially(!) without their permission. A passing touch may be an accident but deliberately grabbing is almost like a kiss!!! Don’t kiss or put your dermas on their clothing either. That has…intimate implications I won’t discuss here.

Orion loves watching Megatronus Prime spar with D-16. The size difference between the two could be laughable, if it weren’t for the ferocity that overtakes D-16’s faceplate and the corrections Megatronus throws out to him. Multiple times, Orion’s systems remind him to function as he watches—his friend is a vision under his Prime’s tutelage, all gritted denta, radiating optics, and arcing gauntlets.

Once satisfied, the looming Prime kneels before his apprentice and speaks lowly to him. Orion’s audials are unable to pick up what’s said but the open and hungry way D-16 receives his feedback sates him. Megatronus returns to his full height, nods to release D-16 from his training for the day and Orion perks up at the gesture.

“D!” Orion calls. His friend pads over to what’s becoming Orion’s usual spot, a barely-there smile on his dermas.

“You been waiting long?” D-16 asks, setting his practice spear against the wall.

Orion shakes his helm. A white lie—he’s been there longer than he should’ve but it’s not his fault that watching D-16 fight is so fascinating. “What were you learning today?”

D-16 dutifully launches into the intricacies of battle strategy and close-ranged combat. Orion props his helm up with his loose fist as he listens—mostly listens, at least. That task becomes difficult as the jargon grows thick and D-16’s broad servos capture Orion’s attention as they move in small motions.

An idea pops into his processor. “Why don’t you show me?”

A pause, then D-16 scoops up his practice spear, muttering, “It’ll look stupid without an opponent.”

Orion hops over the half-wall that’s been separating them and bounces over to stand in front of his friend. “I’m right here though.”

“No,” D-16 said immediately. “It’s not safe.”

“C’mon, D,” Orion teases. “I trust you.”

D-16 cycles his optics and Orion’s lopsided grin grows. “It’s not about that. You don’t know what you’re doing and even if it’s not real, I could hurt you.”

“You won’t,” Orion states, full of confidence.

“I could,” D-16 argues. “Then Prima would offline me for harming his one and only apprentice—”

Orion begins to circle D-16, close enough to reach but far enough that he could evade it. “I know what you’re doing, Pax. It’s not going to work.”

“Is it not?” Orion teases as he keeps in D-16’s blindspot, his friend calmly trying to catch sight of him again. He takes a chance while behind him, dashing out and giving the purple fabric of D-16’s House garment a good tug.

“Pax,” D-16 chastises. Yes, it’s a sparkling-like move, Orion knows and does not quite care. He does it again, giggles erupting from his vocalizer as D-16’s calmness dissipates.

Orion manages to tug at D-16’s garment twice more before D-16’s arm snaps out, captures the joint above Orion’s servos, and crowds him against the nearby wall. The yellow of D-16’s optics blaze. Orion notices how close they are, how his friend’s weight is the only thing that keeps him upright, and he grins.

D-16 growls, “Orion.” And honestly? Orion isn’t sure what’s going through his processor when his reaction to hearing D-16 say his name is to bite down on the gathered cloth by one of the gauntlets he’d been admiring earlier.

D-16 drops him. His aft hits the ground with a rough clank and Orion cries out, “hey!”

But D-16 isn’t listening. His optics are focused on the spot where Orion’s intake fluid darkened cloth’s already deep purple. D-16’s expression is horrified.

“Oh scrap, D.” Orion scrambles to his pedes. “It should go away, right? I’ve never—D! Where are you going? Wait!”

Before Orion can say another word, D-16 runs—no, sprints—out of the practice arena, leaving Orion there alone wondering what he’d done wrong.

DO: keep your garment clean! It’s polite and respectful, blah blah blah, you should know this. But! What you don’t know is that leaving a mark on another apprentice’s garment, accidental or not, is a serious offense! You tear it, that’s a show of disrespect to the apprentice and their House and you might have to fight them. On the other servo, if you, say, put a small decal on the cloth, you’re effectively marking that mech as your own. Same goes for intake fluid, though that just tells everyone that you and that bot are...together in a different sense. Catch my drift?

“I’m sorry, D.”

“What for?”

“I don’t know but I made you upset, didn’t I?”

“...no. You didn’t.”

DON’T: wear another House’s garment!!! Unless you’re ready to be conjunxes. And I’m serious! It’s saying your devotion to that mech is equivalent to your devotion to your Prime. Ask yourself, little mech. Would you swear undying fealty to them? Would you choose that mech over your Prime? No? Then don’t do this.

(Okay, I might be a little overdramatic, but seriously, don’t.)

What fascinates Orion is how different the textiles feel from one another. He’s read about the arts and asked on multiple occasions to speak with the bot who made his House clothes because he must know more. Orion shifts the material of D-16’s garment between his digits, reveling in the weight and watching the fabric fold as he moves.

He drapes a length of it over his arm and turns to D-16, who’s dozing in and out of a light rest cycle. “Do you think purple would suit me?”

“Hm?”

Orion nudges his friend with the bend of his arm still wrapped in material. This time, D-16 rouses, even if only a little. “Your House garment, silly. How does it look?”

“Fine,” D-16 says.

“Just fine?” Orion complains. “You’re the meanest friend ever. You won’t even let me try?”

D-16 resettles his helm. “Not mean. ‘M honest.”

Orion shoves his shoulder plate, only serving to further tangle himself. “Your honesty is mean.”

“Would you prefer a more elaborate answer?”

“Not anymore,” Orion mutters. This time, he lets D-16 rest as he lays the garment over his lap and smoothes out the wrinkles he’s made.

Congrats!!! Now you’re fully equipped to take on the social terrain in the House of Primes!!

In case you didn’t read all that, basically, keep to your own business and every other bot will keep to theirs. You’re lucky you have me to help you out with this because I didn't have anyone explain it to me and I broke about every rule before an apprentice told me. I was so embarrassed!!! No need to thank me though, little mech, whoever you may be. Just have fun! Be responsible! Follow these rules!!! I promise, you’ll have a better time if you do. Byeeee ;)

D-16 might cease to function—if he hasn’t already. On this particular solar cycle, Orion had dragged D-16 into another one of his schemes and deemed his quarters the meeting point. The door slid open, Orion welcomed him inside, and D-16’s optics landed on a datapad that made his spark drop.

That thing isn’t supposed to exist—not physically, anyway. How did it get here? How in Primus’ glory does Orion have it?!

“D?” Orion cuts through his panic.

“Have you…” D-16 can barely force his vocaliser to say the words. “Have you read it?”

Orion raises an optical ridge. Confused but fond. “Read what?”

A digit points at the datapad, though D-16 didn’t consciously give the command for it to do so. “That.”

“Oh that?” Orion ambles over to the offending object. “It was here when I moved in. Weird right? Maybe Prima put it here in case I forgot what he told me?”

D-16’s joints creak with the effort it takes to stride over and pick up the datapad. “You don’t need it though, do you?”

Please say no, D-16’s processor screams.

Orion laughs, though his confusion melds into concern as well. “No, I guess not…did you need it? You can take it, if you do.”

And D-16 then and there wishes Orion Pax had chosen a better friend, one who he deserves. Except, D-16 is also selfish and cold in ways where Orion is warm—he doesn’t wish that, in actuality. (It feels kinder to say that he does. Orion deserves kind.)

“Thanks,” D-16 says for lack of any explanation that wouldn’t be a flat-out lie.

Then Orion smiles at him, as he always does, and pats him on the chest plate, right next to his empty cog slot, right on his garment. D-16 musters a quirk of his dermas and tucks the datapad away from Orion’s prying optics. It’s hard to feel guilty about it, when Orion seems so content and his servos make his garment so warm.

~~~

A/N: tysm for reading! i'm sorry if i got any details wrong, i read all the comics over again to make sure i got it all correct but just in case i missed something! please check out the main comic if you haven't already. the worldbuilding, writing, and art style are all stunning!

#dpax #megop #transformers one #apprentice au #d 16 #orion pax #might write more for this au as it continues!#cannot believe i wrote orion accidentally giving d16 the equivalent of a hickey #i'm not sorry tho #royal writes #i'll cross post on ao3 later maybe #did i...also technically make a transformers oc?

985 notes · View notes

crispy-art-on-fire · 5 days ago

Text

TFA Cybertronian Sexual Reproduction

A speculative biology infodump by me because I think way too much about these stuff and might have had a fixation on reproduction in one point in time.

CW for discussions around reproduction, infertility, miscarriage, and alien biology. Dead dove do not eat essentially.

Cybetronians aren't a species that sexual reproduction comes easy, with every stage of conception there is high risk that a pregnancy will not come to pass and such asexual reproduction is preferred in most cases.

First of all a Cybetronian has one reproductive system, they have their transfluid tank, a transfluid tank for doners, a gestational chamber, a forge, and then a valve and spike. Spike is where the transfluid exits through ejaculation while valve intakes transfluid, during a pregnancy the spike will be disabled. The gestational chamber is where everything is connected together and where the sparkling will develop.

Infertility can occur when Cybetronian's own transfluid tank dries up or if they were born lacking parts of their array. To prevent pregnancy the easiest way is to expel a doner's transfluid after copulation but other ways are to medically put in a block on the transfluid tanks, or to cut off the connection point between them and the gestational chamber.

Conception of a sparkling occurs as a chemical reaction between carrier and sire(s) transfluid within the gestational chamber with the resulting energy makes a spark. This can be detected through heat cameras. To increase chance of conception spark merging and overloading is recommended to increase the energy produced. The resulting spark will then attach to the carrier's own and begin siphoning energy from it. In the early stages the newspark is very fragile and has a high likelihood of being reabsorbed or snuffed out.

Impacts on the carrier is typically decreased energy and spark pain, which can be lightened by a spark merge as the doner gives their energy to the newspark as well. A newspark can also attach to the doner's spark but this is highly discouraged since it has a high risk of spontaneous abortion, usually this procedure is done as a last ditch effort if the original carrier is dying.

When the newspark has stabilized it will drop down into the gestational chamber where it will start to develop its protoform. Lack of transfluid at this stage can lead to developmental abnormalities or stillbirth as the transfluid is what the sparkling is kept in and also informs of its frame is developed. The carrier at this point will develop cravings and appetite for various metals and minerals. These go into a special track down the throat into a forge where they are melted down into what one calls a protoform- a highly impressionable soft metal. Some of the leftover metal will also be used to transform the carrier's frame to leave room inside for the developing sparkling, usually gaining width and weight as the frame is reinforced to carry the additional weight.

Their structure will also change in accordance to frame type; war-frames gains hardened metal exterior while civilian-frames "crumbles" under high impact while avoiding major damage to the sparkling and carrier. This has lead to the impression Decepticon carriers are neigh unstoppable while Autobot carriers are excessively fragile, an false impression used by either side to protect their respective carrier. Autobot carriers having the ability to "play dead" (grey out their frame) until they feel safe while Decepticon carriers are encouraged to be highly aggressive.

When the sparkling is ready to emerge the carrier programming will encourage the carrier to find a safe spot with soft bedding before their abdominal plating and gestational chamber opens up to expel the sparkling. Clean up the little thing off from the transfluid and voila, you have your bitlet.

After the birth the carrier will begin to 'molt' their excess metal, eating it to melt it down and then feed it to the growing bitlet, something sires can do as well. Most importantly the sparkling will need lots of fuel and contact to develop properly as it will absorb the rest of its programming from its caretakers.

#my art #tfa #fanart #maccadam #transformers #mechpreg #speculative biology #my headcanons #transformers sparklings #crashstop #I have gotten like. three or four asks about my opinions of how carrying works so here it is!#Molting kind of looks like peeling strips of paint excepts its sheets of metal

145 notes · View notes

high-priestess-house · 11 months ago

Text

𝖀𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖌 & 𝖀𝖘𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝕸𝖆𝖌𝖎𝖈𝖆𝖑 𝕮𝖔𝖗𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖕𝖔𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊𝖘

Witchcraft magical correspondences refer to the associations made between various objects, substances, times, and events with specific magical effects or purposes. These correspondences have deep historical roots and derive from a blend of multiple sources, including ancient alchemy, early science, cultural symbolism, religious beliefs, and intentionality.

Ancient Alchemy

Alchemy, the precursor to modern chemistry, played a significant role in shaping magical correspondences. Alchemists sought to understand the mysteries of matter and the transformation of substances, often imbuing their experiments with spiritual and mystical significance. For example, the seven classical planets (Sun, Moon, Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn) were associated with specific metals (gold, silver, mercury, copper, iron, tin, and lead, respectively). These associations were believed to reflect the planets’ influences on earthly matters and human affairs. Alchemical texts also explored the relationships between colors, elements, and spiritual principles, influencing the development of magical correspondences in witchcraft.

Ancient alchemy holds a significant place in the history of science, philosophy, and mystical traditions, influencing various fields and practices, including witchcraft. The importance of ancient alchemy can be understood through its contributions to the development of modern science, its philosophical and spiritual dimensions, and its enduring influence on magical and esoteric traditions.

The Great Work (Magnum Opus): Central to alchemy is the concept of the Great Work, which symbolizes the alchemist’s quest for spiritual and material transformation. This process involves the purification and perfection of substances, often mirroring the alchemist’s inner spiritual journey toward enlightenment and self-realization.

Symbolism and Allegory: Alchemical texts are rich in symbolism and allegory, using metaphors to convey complex philosophical and spiritual concepts. Symbols such as the philosopher’s stone, the ouroboros (a serpent eating its own tail), and the four elements (earth, air, fire, water) encapsulate profound ideas about the nature of reality, transformation, and the interconnectedness of all things.

Hermetic Tradition: Alchemy is closely associated with Hermeticism, a philosophical and spiritual tradition based on the writings attributed to Hermes Trismegistus. Hermetic principles, such as “As above, so below” and the unity of opposites, permeate alchemical thought and emphasize the correspondence between the macrocosm (the universe) and the microcosm (the individual).

Magical Correspondences: Alchemical principles and symbols have been integrated into various magical and esoteric traditions. The associations between planets, metals, and elements in alchemy have become foundational correspondences in many forms of magic and witchcraft.

Transmutation and Transformation: The alchemical goal of transmutation, particularly the transformation of base metals into gold, has a symbolic counterpart in magical practices. This idea of transformation is applied to personal growth, healing, and the manifestation of desires through magical means.

Ritual and Practice: Alchemical rituals, with their focus on purification, transformation, and the attainment of higher states of being, have influenced the structure and content of magical rituals. The use of specific substances, tools, and processes in alchemy has parallels in magical workings, emphasizing the transformation of both the practitioner and the environment.

Alchemy in the Renaissance: During the Renaissance, alchemy experienced a revival as scholars and practitioners sought to integrate ancient wisdom with emerging scientific knowledge. Figures like Paracelsus and John Dee contributed to the development of alchemical thought, blending it with medicine, astrology, and early chemistry.

Psychological Alchemy: In the 20th century, Carl Jung, a prominent psychologist, explored alchemy as a metaphor for psychological processes. Jung’s interpretation of alchemical symbolism as representing the individuation process—the integration of the conscious and unconscious mind��brought new insights into the relevance of alchemy for personal development and psychotherapy.

Contemporary Practice: Today, alchemy continues to inspire both scientific inquiry and spiritual exploration. Modern alchemists, both literal and symbolic, seek to uncover the hidden principles of transformation in nature and the self. The enduring appeal of alchemy lies in its holistic approach, integrating material, psychological, and spiritual dimensions of existence.

Early Science and Natural Philosophy

Early scientific observations and natural philosophy also contributed to the development of magical correspondences. Ancient and medieval scholars often categorized the natural world into elements (earth, air, fire, and water) and humors (blood, phlegm, yellow bile, and black bile), each with specific qualities and effects. These classifications were used to explain natural phenomena and human health, and they found their way into magical practices. For instance, herbs and stones were categorized based on their perceived elemental qualities, and their uses in magic were aligned with these characteristics.

Cultural Symbolism and Mythology

Cultural symbolism and mythology provided another rich source of correspondences. Different cultures imbued animals, plants, colors, and objects with symbolic meanings based on their myths, legends, and folklore. For instance, the oak tree was sacred to many ancient European cultures and associated with strength and protection, while the owl, often seen as a symbol of wisdom in Greek mythology, became associated with knowledge and divination in magical practices. These symbolic associations were passed down through generations and integrated into the magical correspondences of witchcraft.

Religious Beliefs and Practices

Religious beliefs and practices also shaped magical correspondences. Many magical traditions borrowed from the rituals and symbols of dominant religious practices in their regions. In Western Europe, for instance, Christian symbols and saints were often syncretized with older pagan deities and symbols. The use of incense, candles, and specific prayers or chants in magic often mirrors religious rituals, emphasizing the importance of intentionality and spiritual alignment in magical workings.

Intentionality and Personal Experience

The role of intention and personal experience cannot be overlooked in the development of magical correspondences. Practitioners of witchcraft often develop their own associations based on personal experiences, intuition, and the results of their magical workings. This process of individual experimentation and reflection allows for a dynamic and evolving system of correspondences that can vary between different traditions and practitioners. The intention behind the use of a correspondence is believed to be a critical factor in its effectiveness, highlighting the importance of the practitioner’s focus and purpose.

Synthesis and Evolution

Over time, these diverse influences have synthesized into the rich tapestry of magical correspondences used in witchcraft today. Texts such as the “Key of Solomon,” “The Picatrix,” and various grimoires have codified many of these correspondences, while modern practitioners continue to adapt and expand them based on contemporary understanding and practice. The integration of psychological insights, ecological awareness, and cross-cultural exchanges in the modern era further enriches the system of correspondences, making it a living and evolving aspect of witchcraft.

No single person or group decided these correspondences; rather, they evolved organically through the accumulated wisdom and practices of different cultures. Here are some key influences and sources:

Ancient Civilizations

Egyptians: Ancient Egyptian priests and magicians developed extensive knowledge of correspondences. They believed that everything in nature was interconnected and that specific plants, stones, and symbols held particular powers. Their practices were recorded in texts like the Ebers Papyrus and various temple inscriptions.

Greeks and Romans: The Greeks and Romans contributed significantly to the development of correspondences, particularly through the work of philosophers and physicians like Hippocrates, Theophrastus, and Pliny the Elder. Their writings on herbalism, astrology, and natural philosophy helped establish connections between natural elements and their supposed properties.

Celts: The Druids of the Celtic world had a deep understanding of nature and used various plants, trees, and natural phenomena in their spiritual and magical practices. Their knowledge was passed down orally and later recorded by Christian monks.

Medieval and Renaissance Europe

Medieval Herbalists and Alchemists: During the Middle Ages, herbalists and alchemists in Europe studied ancient texts and conducted their own experiments. They documented the properties of plants, minerals, and metals in texts like the “Materia Medica” and various grimoires. Alchemical traditions, which sought to transform base materials into higher forms, also contributed to the understanding of correspondences.

Astrology: Medieval and Renaissance astrologers played a significant role in establishing correspondences, particularly through the association of planets with specific days of the week, metals, and plants. The writings of figures like Ptolemy and later Renaissance magicians like Cornelius Agrippa and Paracelsus were influential in this regard.

Eastern Traditions

Chinese Medicine and Taoism: Traditional Chinese medicine and Taoist practices developed a system of correspondences based on the Five Elements (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water). These elements were connected to various aspects of life, including organs, emotions, seasons, and directions. The “Huangdi Neijing,” an ancient Chinese medical text, is a key source of this knowledge.

Indian Ayurveda and Hinduism: Ayurvedic medicine and Hindu spiritual practices established correspondences between herbs, gems, times of day, and deities. Texts like the “Atharva Veda” and various Ayurvedic treatises documented these associations.

Modern Influences

Grimoires and Occult Literature: From the Renaissance onward, numerous grimoires (books of magic) compiled and expanded upon earlier correspondences. Notable examples include the “Key of Solomon,” “The Lesser Key of Solomon,” and “The Picatrix.” These texts were influential in shaping modern Western magical practices.

The Golden Dawn and Modern Witchcraft: In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn and similar occult organizations synthesized various magical traditions, creating detailed systems of correspondences. Influential figures like Aleister Crowley and Dion Fortune contributed to this synthesis. In the mid-20th century, Gerald Gardner and others who founded modern Wicca drew upon these traditions, further popularizing and systematizing magical correspondences.

Conclusion

Magical correspondences are the result of centuries of observation, experimentation, and synthesis by various cultures and traditions. They were not decided by any single individual or group but evolved over time through the collective wisdom of countless practitioners. Today, they continue to be an essential part of many magical and spiritual practices, providing a framework for understanding and working with the interconnectedness of the natural and spiritual worlds.

476 notes · View notes

miimo96 · 5 months ago

Text

So the official logo for Sonic 4 was released along side some concept art from Sonic 3 and Well well well, it looks like I might've been right about Sonic 4 being possibly a Time travel story, because judging from what I'm seeing it looks that's what might actually happen, which begs the question: What's next for Sonic 4? Like it's obvious that after Sonic 4 they wanna continue the franchise, however that's basically impossible Because there's only so much you can do before eventually things start to get stale especially when you have it take place in a "realistic" setting, (after all this world isn't like the games) so in a series that is basically structured like this what is the next step after Sonic 4, And I tell ya after taking some time to think on this, I think I might have come up with the Ultimate solution on how to continue this franchise, and that's instead of just ending the story right here, why not just start a new trilogy, let me explain.

Now this may sound crazy to a lot of people but What If Sonic's 4 5 and 6, is basically the start of a Time travel trilogy, with Sonic 4 being the film that introduces that concept with having Amy traveling back in time to save Sonic and possibly prevent the future Terminator style, and then with Sonic's 5 and 6 introducing the next big characters like SILVER! Like what if at the end of Sonic 4 after defeating metal Sonic they end up basically thinking that things are ok, only for Silver to show up and basically attack or accuse Sonic for destroying the future, explaining to him on how not only did he mess things up even more, but that metal sonic isn't even probably gone, and then in the next film you can probably have Silver, Sonic and maybe even Shadow, go up against someone like either NEO metal Sonic or maybe even Mephiles, with the 3rd film setting up the endgame by introducing Blaze (Silver's partner in crime) and having her explain to them how not only are things still broken, but that something bigger is coming, something or SOMEONE like Black Doom?

This will basically give them the chance to expand Shadow's origins a bit more and maybe even pave the way for his spin off by introducing the concept of the Sol emeralds. Omg i don't know about you, but that sounds absolutely effing COOL >_< but lemme know what you guys think, do ya agree with my idea's or do you basically think that Sonic 4 might not even go this route let alone set up a new trilogy, and that they should basically end things right here?

377 notes · View notes

luciacaminoz · 26 days ago

Text

CODEX ENTRY

SOLONA "SOL" CASTILLO Caitiff • Courier • Catalyst

“[…] exists in the liminal between monster and martyr.”

IDENTITY Name: Solona María Alejandra Castillo

Aliases: “Sol” (most common), "Soledad" (courier alias; Camarilla dossiers; later by Nuevo León’s and the greater Gulf's crime syndicates and Kindred circuits), "Soli" (family; childhood nickname), "Lady Selene" (Julian's LiveJournal fanfics) Clan: Caitiff (botched Embrace; presumed Banu Haqim) Generation: 11th -> 9th by 2020 (post-diablerie and 2100X vitae infusion) Sire: Julian Sim (Banu Haqim) Birthdate: November 1st, 1974 (Scorpio sun, Cancer moon, Pisces rising) Embraced: November 2nd, 2000 (age 26, Sierra Vista, AZ) Humanity: 6

PHYSICAL PROFILE Height: 5’7 | Weight: 130 lbs Appearance: Asian/Hispanic female. A study in contrasts—delicate bone structure, thick brows, rounded full lips. Almond eyes, densely lashed and restless. Scar tissue a silver slice from left oral commissure to earlobe (timing belt snap at 17). Build: Hourglass; fleshy curves with coltish limbs—feminine, lithe and capable. Walks with a lazy, hip-first sway. Skin: Medium tan olive skin: deeper/healthier undertones with Blush of Life active; slightly greyer, washed-out complexion otherwise. Hair: Espresso-dark, waist-length waves; often tied back with gold wire, beads, stolen Panda Express chopsticks, in a messy or braided ponytail, baby hairs wild or strategically framing her face. Eyes: Cajeta in crude oil—that final shade of brown before all light’s swallowed by black hole. Voice: Husky contralto. Sandoval-family Spanish-soft lilt, Sonoran cadence. Laugh is rare, disarming, warm.

Distinguishing Marks:

Tattoos: Scorpion (right hand), kingsnake (left ankle), twin hummingbirds (left hip), Nuestra Señora de los Dolores (full back mural). Various smaller tattoos and stick-and-pokes all over.

Moles: Scattered. Concentrated clusters on neck, breast, and shoulder.

Scent & Blood Profile: Burning mesquite, sage, cacao, offset with chamoy and tamarind tang.

Style: Desert punk, apocalypse saint — thrifted slip dresses, mutilated band tees, tiny camisoles and bandeaus, oversized jackets. Baggy or low-rise jeans, cutoff shorts. Last-legs denim and beaten-soft leather. Matte blacks, stark whites, warm earth tones: dried blood red, ochre, rust, sienna. Safety pin mods, bandanas, citrine studs and turquoise beads sewn throughout; rosaries repurposed as anklets. Favors sneakers, lace-up combat boots; strappy sandals and metallic accents on more formal occasions.

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE MBTI: INFJ Enneagram: Type 4w5 Fatal Flaw: Loyalty above self-preservation Core Fear: Fundamentally worthless/useless Core Desire: To feel real (to herself, which she often mistakes for feeling needed/wanted/put to use by others) Vice: Self-Sacrifice Virtue: Empathy Concept: The Martyr Who Bites/The Scorpion Saint — bleeding heart wrapped in barbed wire, equal parts ghost and hurricane. The wound (loneliness and longing) as an entity. Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Key Traits:

Empath (derogatory): Reads rooms like a bloodhound, absorbs pain (voluntary or not). Not above using human fragility (wants, fears, darker desires) for gain; can backfire or become overwhelmed when a trigger is present.

Self-Loathing: But resilient; trying not to make a big deal of it.

Haunting Vulnerability: Projects an aura of quiet, tragic beauty behind the stoicism.

Nurturer: Instinctively gentle with children, animals, broken things. Watches out for women at truck-stops, diners, gas stations, clubs; those who are lost; those working long nights alone.

Twisted Sensuality: Sex > or = communication. Will use sex as both weapon and comfort; a way to ground or to escape; deflect or emphasize.

Protective Fury: Will eviscerate anyone and anything (including the Masquerade) threatening her very few loved ones.

Beast Resonance: Inland Taipan (lethal precision) × Solifugae (desert hunger) × Arizona Bark Scorpion (deceptively strong venom).

*Manifests when Protean is in use as slit pupils, lightened irises, extended fangs, unnerving stillness.

Predator Type: Siren (sometimes suppressed)

Preferred Vessels: Construction workers, single fathers, anyone with over-clocked minds, calloused hands, in need of release, etc. Not a strict preference, however.

Method: Seductive predation (“I’ll make it good for you”) followed on occasion by post-feed guilt-vomiting.

Blood Resonance: Melancholic (frequent), Choleric (from Julian), Sanguine (from Ryan).

Mental Health: Depression, depersonalization and chronic dissociation made worse after Aila’s diablerie and Julian’s abandonment. Developed Bulimic derangement due to intense trauma of blood bond breaking down.

SKILLSET & DISCIPLINES

Disciplines:

Blood Sorcery: (butcher-shopped and jury-rigged from Julian’s initial schooling. Cruder than Banu Haqim or Tremere techniques but brutally efficient.)

Dust to Dust: Blood/vitae siphon.

Crimson Lasso: Razor-wire whips of congealed vitae.

Veil of María: Illusions woven from heat-haze and opponent blood loss.

Protean: (self-manifested, self-taught. Lettow imparts some teaching during the events of Night Road.)

Feral Weapons: Claws distend, fangs elongate (4”, curved), able to unhinge jaw like a serpent.

Scorpion’s Touch/Kodoku: Blackened talons that secrete paralytic venom (duration: 10 mins, Sorcery Combo).

Earth Meld: Limited to sinking into sand/loose soil.

Celerity: (Julian’s tutelage in Monterrey, post-Night Road. Utterly rudimentary—nothing flashy. Yet.)

Skills:

Mechanical Prodigy: Hotwires most cars in 8.3 seconds. Anything pre-2020 <15 seconds. Engine whisperer. Favors muscle cars, JDMs, motorcycles.

Courier: Knows every backroad from Tucson to Tijuana.

Getaway Driver: Speeds and drifts like a wraith. Offensive and defensive maneuvers.

Languages: Fluent Spanish, English; rusty Tagalog.

Streetwise: Subtle and lowkey, with high wits and composure. Competently navigates cop checkpoints and hunter cells; gang, cartel and certain Anarch territories.

Weaknesses:

Guilt: Under/Overfeeds, self-flagellates, hesitates mid-fight, leaves survivors.

Mortal Melancholy: Overcompensates with Blush of Life during sex/feeding. Stares at couples and families. Hoards Ryan's pictures of sunsets and his nieces' crayon masterpieces.

Dyslexic: Shies away from text communication and academics, tries to memorize everything including maps and operating systems.

Restlessness: Russian nesting doll of sadness wrapped in horny, wrapped in 'I can fix him', wrapped in 'Fuck it', and prone to paranoid and Fugue states. And wrapped in more horny.

Triggers: Julian’s “Solona”’s, Aila's stirring, children, migrants, girls with a familiar hollowness. Ryan's tenderness, specifically.

BIOGRAPHY Early Life (1974-2000): Born in Soledad, CA, to a Mexican mechanic (Javier Castillo) and Filipina seamstress (Luningning “Lu” Reyes). Older brother Tiago (Los Zetas enforcer) taught her to throw punches, change oil, hide bodies. Moved to Sierra Vista, AZ, at 8. Dropped out of high school at 16. Worked dad’s garage nights, toyed with community college, dated town bad boys, miscarried at 22. Ultimately directionless. Embraced by Julian at 26.

Fledgling Years (2000-2010): Julian’s shadow, best friend, lover, partner-in-crime. Camarilla wetwork: border ops, hits, drops, clean ups. Diablerized Aila (2010). Julian abandoned her a month later.

Wilderness Years (2010-2017): Independent courier gigs, smuggling, trafficking, gun-running. Crying in truck-stop showers; learning to control purging episodes after feeding. Restricted to bagged blood.

Alternate Universe (2018+): Tremere fetter analysis delayed, awaiting further instruction before making return trip to Texas state; granted temporary hospitality in Miami. Subsequently tangled in Chantry bullshit, Gulf drug and gun trade, and the political chess courtesy of a Lasombra rolling in. Also: Ryan Donahue.

Night Road & Beyond (2021+): Reunited with Julian. 2100X catalyst. Infiltrated Viper Club, retrieved Beckoning data, destabilized Second Inquisition’s presence in Southern AZ (for now). Main Mission Objective: Sabbat death cult in Monterrey. Side Mission Objective: Who the fuck took that shot.

Affiliations: Julian Sim & 2100X; Independent (ex-Camarilla-adjacent) courier; Ricardo 'Ric' Lorenz's Miami heist crew (by extension of Ryan Donahue).

#oc: soledad #codex: sol #my actual babie….#mostly just gathering everything ive already posted abt her into one #jez wiki

96 notes · View notes

transgenderer · 5 months ago

Text

im not a primmie but i feel like i "get" it in a way i didn't used to, now that ive read some ethnographies of them. like. i mean, obviously it sucks. it is, on net, dispreferred. we shouldnt reorganize society towards it. but i think the hunter gatherer lifestyle does have particular virtues that modern life doesnt. they're hard to refer to. i dont think theyre *actually* more subtle than like "freedom" or whatever as concepts, but we dont have a whole societal thing about referring to them, so i cant just use a premade word and give you all sorts of complex preloaded concepts.

one of the virtues is...explainability-autonomy. but specifically like. everything you own (i mean, except for a few luxury trade goods) is something you know how to make, or you know a guy who knows how to make it. so you're not in a "matrix" the way we are, on the scale of a community you're more atomized. as soon as a culture gets mined metal this goes out the window, your livelihood is dependent on far-away people.

and this explainability-autonomy holds for the social world as well, even if your culture has an elaborate hierarchy it's a local one, you know everyone in your hierarchy structure. so you can know your social threats in a way you can't in the modern world (i mean, unless you count an ambush-massacre as a social threat).

and then seemingly opposite there's a feature people gloss as "community" but which i think is more like....absolute interdependence. like, you have these people around you, and theyre your only social interaction, or entertainment, and theyre essential for you getting food, and building the house you live in, on and on. like you just depend on each other so intensely (ofc this will depend on the particular H-G group, some were more interdependent and some were relatively independent, depending on hunting style, type of dwelling, etc). and this doesnt seem like a PLEASANT state of affairs but it is *intense* and maybe even beauitful. its like soldiers in the same squad. warriors bond.

this isnt all of them, but its a distinctive pair

132 notes · View notes

whencyclopedia · 5 months ago

Photo

Mesopotamian Art and Architecture

Ancient Mesopotamian art and architectural works are among the oldest in the world, dating back over 7,000 years. The works first appear in northern Mesopotamia prior to the Ubaid Period (c. 5000-4100 BCE) and then developed in the south during the Uruk Period (4100-2900 BCE) in Sumer which established the first historical civilization.

According to some scholars, the works of the Indus Valley Civilization (c. 7000 to c. 600 BCE) pre-date those of Mesopotamia, but the Indus Valley developments do not appear until the Early Harappan Period (c. 5500-2800 BCE) by which time Mesopotamian works were already established. Early artwork and construction are evidenced in northern Mesopotamia at sites such as Göbekli Tepe (c. 10,000 BCE) and Ҫatalhöyük (c. 7500 BCE), both in modern-day Turkey, and Tell Brak (c. 6500-5000 BCE), in Syria.

The development of these works then progressed through the following eras, though, owing to space limitations, the Hittite and Kassite periods will not be addressed:

Ubaid Period – c. 5000-4100 BCE

Uruk Period – 4100-2900 BCE

Early Dynastic Period – 2900-2334 BCE

Akkadian Period – 2334-2218 BCE

Ur III Period – 2047-1750 BCE

Old Babylonian Period – c. 2000-1600 BCE

Hittite Period – 1700-1200 BCE

Kassite Period – c. 1595 to c. 1155 BCE

Assyrian Period – c. 1307-912 BCE

Neo-Assyrian Period – 912-612 BCE

Neo-Babylonian Period – 626-539 BCE

Achaemenid Persian-Sassanian Persian Period – c. 550 BCE to 651 CE

Artworks included reliefs, sculpture, statuary cast in metal, ceramics, jewelry, cylinder seals, stele & monuments, obelisks, and wall paintings. Mesopotamian monumental architecture is epitomized by the ziggurat, but the Sumerians were also responsible for the first large-scale palaces and temples, as well as urban planning, the arch, canals, and aqueducts, landscaped gardens, and architectural ornamentation. These early innovations would become more refined in the region through succeeding periods and influence the works of other cultures in the Near East and Mediterranean regions.

Earliest Sites & Base Materials

Although the Göbekli Tepe site is dated to c. 10,000 BCE, the first permanent settlements in that area are thought to have been established earlier, and, possibly, for the sole purpose of building the structure which most scholars believe was a temple. Göbekli Tepe is among the earliest sites, along with others such as Nevalı Çori (also in modern-day Turkey), to feature monumental architecture – including the oldest known megaliths in the world at Göbekli Tepe – as well as reliefs.

Architecturally, the site is comprised of circular areas and rectangular buildings with T-shaped pillars of limestone, some carved with images of wildlife in low and high relief. There is little evidence of human activity in the sculptures which seem to emphasize the natural world and, in some interpretations, the people's relationship with their gods. Some scholars associate the site with the later settlement of Ҫatalhöyük, though this claim has been challenged as the design of Göbekli Tepe, and the tools found there, differ from the later site.

Whatever purpose Göbekli Tepe originally served, it was a communal site associated with ritual, while Ҫatalhöyük was entirely residential. No public buildings have been found at the site which is comprised of tightly clustered mudbrick residences accessed by ladders or steps from a hole in the roof. Artwork from the site includes murals and statuary – such as the famous Seated Woman of Ҫatalhöyük – as well as ceramics. The artwork seems to focus on the natural world and the concept of fertility as several pieces represent female figures and erect phalluses.

The people of Ҫatalhöyük used clay, limestone, marble, and other materials for their statuary and paint created from natural substances. The figurines, statuary, and murals are usually interpreted as representing religious concepts, but this claim is not universally accepted. There is no evidence of urban planning at the site; it seems to have developed organically with buildings attached to each other and people using the rooftops for communal activities and movement as there are no streets, courtyards, or public squares.

#History #AkkadianPeriod #Akkadian #AncientPersianArtandArchitecture #WHE #[#]

123 notes · View notes

mrchiipchrome · 11 months ago

Text

Care For Me, I Know You Care For Me

W.C. - 6.1 k

Back with another chapter :()

———————————————

“I’m going to a party, you want to come with?” Looking up at the older girl through heavy lidded eyes, her party dress clinging tight to her body, you can barely even imagine yourself at another party, especially with classes having started the week prior.

A multitude of open books surround you, all displaying different types of equations and explanations of increasingly complex mathematical concepts. You’d already been at it for an hour, and still you had only solved two or three questions.

It was worse than having to run suicides for an hour straight, pure brutality.

“Do I have a choice?” With your fingers buried deep in your hair and your lips turned down in a frown, Em looks you over for a moment before deciding on her answer, shaking her head softly, uncharacteristically.

“I’m really sorry, I've just got so much work already.” Looking back down at the half solved problem, you sigh loudly before writing out another part of the equation, pulling your calculator closer to the edge of the table, the numbered buttons clicking softly under your fingertips.

Going unnoticed by you, Em’s shoes thud against the hardwood floor as she makes her way over to where you're sitting at the kitchen table, placed up against the almost kitchen island looking structure that’s there instead of a full wall to make the space look more open, her hands taking hold of the sides of your face resulting in your cheeks being smushed together when she makes you look up at her.

"You're not sorry, you hate going to parties.” As her sentence comes to an end, she presses a kiss to your forehead before she turns around to leave your apartment, looking back at you to blow you a kiss when she sees you putting your middle finger up at her through the hallway mirror.

But alas, as the door clicks shut behind the older woman, you have to go back to doing the boring work you’d been given by your math teacher, no longer a distraction there for you to blame for not having full focus.

Em was always a nice distraction for you when the work piled up and your usual workaholic self sat for hours upon hours in front of a multitude of books and screens.

At the same time, it was infuriating when she interrupted at the worst times like when you were in the middle of a question or when she inevitably would ask you to do her assignments for her, all while probably eating your food. The girl really is in a league of her own at times.

Rolling your eyes at the thought, it doesn’t take long for you to remove all distractions from your surroundings, putting your phone on do not disturb before burying your head in your work once more, numbers and equations floating together in your mind like they have no substance.

There's no preventing the drooping of your eyelids about 3 hours after Em initially asked you if you wanted to party, and there’s even less you can do about the way the cool pages of your book feel against your hot cheek, the combination of boredom and sleepiness from the late hour mixing together and creating a very tired striker.

It’s only a few hours later when you’re drooling over the written out equations on your paper that you startle awake, a loud ringing coming from the phone placed not too far away from your head, your body jumpstarting way too quickly for your mind to comprehend.

Slapping around for your phone, your fingers grip the cool metal with surprising ease, swiping blindly at the accept button, not even looking at the caller id.

“Y/l/n Manufacturing, how can I help you?” The response is automated, coming out your mouth like it had been practiced a million times before, sometimes your home phone would ring and you’d pick it up before one of your nanny’s could, leaving your childish voice to sound through the speaker, ready to tackle their problems with practiced efficiency only your parents could rival. Sure little helper you were.

There’s a second filled to the brim with an awkward type of silence before sweet giggling fills your ear, leaving you to pull away from the phone for a quick second, looking at the caller id.

‘Emma Whitmore Harvard’ can be seen across the top of your screen, but even though the voice was familiar, it wasn’t Em. That much you knew.

Who could possibly have her phone at this hour? Raising your phone back up to your ear, you don’t bother to lift your head from the papers now sticking uncomfortably to your face, only waiting for the person on the other end to stop giggling and start talking.

“Hey Y/n/n, why so formal? We’re friends right?” Oh. Of course Nika would be the one to call you…from Em’s phone?

“Nika? Why do you have Emma’s phone?” She giggles once again, this time at your sleepy confusion and at the sound of you peeling the paper off your cheek with a small groan, red marks engraved into your skin, not that she could see that.

“Well she took me to the party you didn’t want to go to, obviously she forgot that she had to drive home and we’re stuck here, drunk.” She explains carefully, choosing her words as consciously as she can, the slur of her words indicating that she in fact was a little more than tipsy.

Sighing, you ask the question at the tip of your tongue, already getting up from the chair that’s made your butt numb after sitting on it for hours upon hours.

“You want to bring you both back here?” She hums in response, agreeing quickly, and you can imagine the sly smile on her lips on the other end of the phone. “Alright, I’ll be there in an hour, try to not get yourself in trouble.” With that you hang up on her, sighing once more before making your way to the hall, not even paying your outfit any mind as you slip your beat up sneakers on.

Plucking your car keys off the hook they’re hung on, you’re out the door in record time with your phone in one hand and your keys in the other. Rubbing your eyes as you stand in the elevator, you can only imagine the trouble a drunk Nika and an even drunker Em have gotten into during the evening without you there to calm them down.

You yawn as the ding of the elevator doors indicate their opening, stepping out into the colder air of the entrance in the apartment building, shivering ever so slightly.

Another yawn leaves your mouth as you walk across the parking lot towards the garage that you keep your precious car in, and you slap yourself a few times to wake up a little bit more.

After opening the garage door to see your absolute beauty of a car, it only takes a few seconds for you to unlock the doors and slip into the warmth that it provided, the special made seats infinitely better than any wooden chair you could ever purchase for your kitchen.

Pushing your key into the ignition, you stop only for a moment or two to close your eyes tightly, feeling the sleepiness push at the back of your eyes, eyelids heavy even whilst they’re closed. But alas, you were a woman on a mission, to rescue your two princesses from the monstrosity that is a frat party.

So you pull up the ‘Find My’ app on your phone, clicking on the little icon with Em’s face beside it, showing off her location for you, and as you typed the location in the search bar of the ‘Maps’ app there’s nothing stopping you from letting out that little laugh that was reserved for ridiculous situations like this.

Who other than Emma Whitmore would forget to stay sober so that she could drive home? A real Em thing to do you suppose.

Either way, you turn the car on and pull out of the garage, clicking on the little button on your keys to make the door close behind the back of the car automatically.

Your phone is placed on the dashboard, ready to tell you the instructions to find the location you desire, and you reach out to turn the radio on, a ballad from ages ago floating out of the almost outdated speakers on low volume, covering the piercing silence covering every surface and crevice of your car.

Tapping along to the subtle beat of the song, the empty roads of the early morning almost feel comforting, streetlights lighting up the inside of your car for a second before it’s the next one’s turn, various trees littering the edges of the roads. They’re never grouped together, only single trees in a line, a style choice.

The voice of the AI giving you the instructions quiets down when you’re only a few blocks away from the house that Em’s phone had been in only an hour before, and you’re surprised at how quickly time had passed as you were driving, an hour feeling closer to 20 minutes than an hour.

But it’s only when you start to recognise the clusters of trees and the street signs that you turn off the directions, not needing them to navigate you anymore.

Parking your car a bit away from the frat, once again not wanting it to be stolen by some drunken frat boys, you take your keys out of the ignition and exit the car, locking it quickly before putting the keys in your pocket where they would be safe.

Leaning slightly against the hood of your car, you send a quick text off to Em, well Nika, saying that you’re there and that they should come out to meet you.

When your phone vibrates in your grip you let a small smile creep up on your face, a small ‘come find us’ coming through, the banner covering the bottom of your screensaver, a photo of you with your Arsenal teammates on your last day before leaving for America.

Trudging up the small hill, the thumping music spilling out from the large white house makes a sarcastic smile appear on your face, hands shoved into the pockets of your pajama pants.

More than a few people turn their heads to look at you weirdly but you don't pay them any mind, ready to bring both the older women home so that you could finally finish your homework and then go to bed.

Entering the open door, you’re immediately met with the stench of alcohol and sweat and the sight of various men pushing up against anything with a beating heart, legs and long hair.

Scanning the room, you look for the tall brunette and the shorter blonde, the two of them seemingly being able to keep entirely hidden from your wandering eyes despite their vertically advantaged frames.

Dragging the soles of your shoes along the floor, you’re making sure to be on alert in case you spot them and it doesn’t register in your mind, the music from before now rattling your brain around in your skull.

But as you spot the guy from the party where you first met Nika, you have no choice in turning around and almost sprinting into the kitchen to get away from him and his musty presence.

With Lady Luck on your side, your body bumps into someone else’s, a familiar warmth to the hand wrapping around the back of your shirt to make sure that your lanky body doesn’t thump pathetically against the sticky floor and the foreign accent wrapping around the words coming out of the gorgeous girl’s mouth.

“Found us.” The sentence is short, simple, but still it makes your knees feel like tv static and your heart thump painfully against your ribs, your usual confident but grumpy demeanor turning shy and giddy. That was until a voice sounds above the music and the blood rushing in your ears, a voice that could immediately turn any giddiness back into irritability, no matter how much you loved the girl it belonged to.

“What the actual fuck are you wearing?” Emma asks giggling, looking at the pajamas you had changed into not long after she had left. She was clearly drunk, but sober enough to be a hater.

Nika pulls away from your body, just enough so that she herself could get a peek of the ‘ugly’ attire, bringing her free hand to her lips in order to not laugh out loud at it.

You look down at yourself, a big red Harvard logo printed on your white t-shirt with your number right above it, and a pair of Arsenal themed pajama pants, bright red with the logo printed in white.

A slight red tint creeps up on your face as you roll your eyes at the both of them, ready to drag the both of them out by the ear if you had to. The two women’s giggles fill the space you occupy, leaving you to fight the smile willing itself to creep up on your face, wrapping an arm around each of their shoulders to try to get a move on out the house.

The giggles turn even louder as the guy from before calls out for you as you’re nearing the door, his strange dialect mixing with the alcohol in a mess of words and mumbles.

“Bye bye Brit!” If your hands hadn’t been secured around the shoulders of the girls beside you, you would’ve flipped him off. Luckily for both you and him, you had to keep hold of them both so that they wouldn’t drunkenly wander off.

You feel as they both sway on their feet as they focus solely on putting one foot in front of the other, wanting no drunken accidents to affect them in the morning.

The concrete of the sidewalk wasn’t comfortable to fall on, that much they both knew even in their drunken stupor.

After much fuss and a few close calls, you’ve all made it back to your car in one piece, the infamous car that no one had stolen.

“Em, come on, you go in the backseat.” Your voice holds a tone of finality and Em knows that there’s no room for arguing, instead just grumbling softly to herself as she opens the door and plops down in the seat just behind the passenger, buckling herself in under your watchful gaze.

When she’s done, you close the door softly before turning around, completely forgetting about Nika for a second, your heart jumping out of your chest as you come face to face with the Aphrodite.

Placing your hand over your thumping heart, you gasp sharply at the unexpected presence, a playful smile breaking out of the perpetrators face.

“Boo.” She whispers into the cold night air, a mix of alcohol and mint on her breath that’s pleasant in its own unique way, in a way that strangely leaves you wanting more of her.

“Get in the car Nika, I’ll drive you home.” The smile drops off her face when you mention home, like she wasn’t expecting that to be the word coming out of your mouth, her fingers twisting and turning around themselves in a nervous game. It makes you look at her curiously, wondering why that was her reaction, wondering how and why and everything in between.

But you wait for her to tell you why, how and everything in between in her own time, for the first time in the last week your mind stood still, waiting for whatever was about to come out of Nika’s parted lips.

“I- can you just take me back to yours instead? I mean only if you want to.” She picks at the skin around her nails as she speaks, all rushed like you wouldn’t say yes a thousand times if it meant that you got to spend another second with her.

“Of course I can, no problem really.” Trying your best to be comforting, you slap a smile on your face as you speak, bringing your hand up to rub at her shoulder softly, assuring her that you didn’t have a problem with opening your home up to another guest.

“Thanks.” With her word of gratitude, you turn back around to the car, seeing Emma making rather crude gestures through the window, a peace sign with her tongue between her fingers. Normally you would reprimand the drunk girl’s actions, but you can’t help the small giggle leaving your lips, a shake of your head as you roll your eyes.

You open the door to the passenger seat for Nika, motioning for her to sit down with practiced ease, smiling as she tiptoes towards the car like she's a princess and you're her knight, placing her hand into your outstretched one as she goes to sit down in the passenger seat.

You smile at the playful nature of the interaction, the tiredness hitting you like a ton of bricks once more as you keep a watchful eye over the woman buckling herself into your car, making sure that she does it properly.

Just like you did with Em before, you close the door softly after her, this time not being scared by anyone hiding behind you. Walking around the front of the car, the tips of your fingers trace over the hood as a sort of leading hand, letting you go around to your side with ease.

Not unlike Em, you plop down in your seat sluggishly before putting the key back in the ignition, pausing only to look back at your best friend with a pointed look, warning her not to be all too annoying during the ride back home.

She just puts her hands up, smirking at you playfully, so self assured that she wouldn’t do anything to get her into any trouble with you.

The car awakens with a rumble, the engine almost purring as you pull away from where you’re parked against the curb, tired eyes focused only on getting everybody back to your apartment safely and totally not at all on the beauty sitting in your passenger seat.

It isn't until you’ve hit the open road that you allow yourself to look back at your best friend through the rearview mirror, the girl's head resting on the seat behind her, mouth open with ever so soft snores coming out of her. It makes a wide, teasing smile appear on your lips, a sleepy drunk too apparently.

When you turn your eyes back to the road, you completely miss the enraptured look in the brunette beside you’s eyes, an adoring smile on her soft red lips.

Her eyes trail over the dips and curves of your body under your clothes, over the bridge of your nose and the slight furrow of your brow in concentration, over the curve of your jaw and the locks of your hair.

She lets her eyes trail over your exposed forearms as you grip the steering wheel, your fingers tapping against the leather to the beat of the song she hadn’t even noticed in the background.

Before she can stop herself, the accented words spill out of her mouth like a waterfall, a drunken impulse that maybe wasn't that affected after all.

“You’re really pretty you know.” It’s almost a whisper, just a little bit louder than a normal one would be, but you heard her like she was shouting it across the rooftops, not whispering it in the enclosed space of your car.

You look at her, only for a moment or two, her gaze turned to the road you were driving on, deliberately choosing not to look you in the eye, almost embarrassed by the comment that could easily be interpreted as friendly and not flirtatious.

“You’re awfully pretty as well, Nika.” You decide on your words very carefully, not wanting to seem overly flirtatious with the taken woman, but at the same time wanting to return the compliment. She was really, truly gorgeous though.

Again, before she can stop herself from clarifying, she blurts out another string of words that she hopes you’ll just play off as her being intoxicated and not really truthful.

“No, you don't understand, you're gorgeous.” She hears you laugh slightly under your breath, and she almost breathes a sigh of relief at you not taking her seriously, and waving off her comments under the simple guise of;

“And you're drunk.” With that, all your focus is back on the road, trying to get back to your home as quickly as humanly possible, wanting to crawl down in your bed and snuggle up to your blankets.

And after many twists and turns, you're finally back where you started, at your apartment building, the cold air surrounding you as you exit the vehicle after you’ve parked it back in your garage, Nika following in tandem as she too makes her way out, shivering slightly in the Boston air.

“The code to the door is 6532, you can go whilst I get Em up.” She smiles at you once again, committing the list of numbers to her memory, willing herself not to forget even a single digit. Her shoes clack against the pavement in a sure rhythm, making her way towards the door of the building, repeating the numbers to herself softly.

At the same time, you’re pulling Em’s door open, tapping her cheek to wake her up from the deep slumber she found herself in. Ever the deep sleeper, her snores just continued to fill the car, almost like she was doing it only to spite you.

“Em, Em. Emma, come on, wake up.” By now you’re shaking her harshly, the woman only grumbling at you to leave her alone. “Emma, I will slap you into next week if you don’t get up.” That rouses her, the older brunette quickly unbuckling her seatbelt and getting out of the car, standing next to you and then bringing her hand up to mock salute you.

Rolling your eyes at her antics, you quickly lock the car up before walking out of the garage with your best friend in tow, the garage door going down and covering up your car from the view of the public, safe and sound.

It doesn’t take long for you both to get into your building, seeing Nika standing by the elevator doors, seemingly waiting for the two of you to join her in the lobby before you all collectively went up to your apartment. There’s a certain look in her eye, at least that’s what you think, maybe it was just the lighting. Yeah that’s it.

“Nika, hey girl, what are you doing here?” The girl practically hanging off you speaks, asking her now giggling friend the question of the century. She’s still really drunk, that’s easy to tell, the slurring of her words, the tint to her cheeks and the sway of her body.

“Oh we’re having a sleepover.” She answers nonchalantly, sending you a wink when Em’s not looking, both of you having to stop the giggles bubbling up in your chests. It was your little secret, Em didn’t have to know.

The elevator doors open and you all step in, directing Nika to press the button for the fifth floor with a simple show of fingers. You look on as she leans back against the wall, taking in the exterior of the moving box, bringing you all upstairs in the matter of seconds.

Gesturing for her to exit first, you bring Em with you as you walk out behind the tall brunette, her body almost hanging off yours with her arms tightening themselves around your shoulders. Em stumbles over her own feet a few times even with the help of your guidance, but all in all you both manage to stay upright in the small distance from the elevator to your door.

“Nika, catch!” You whispershout in her direction, plucking your keys out of your pocket and throwing it to her right in time, her hands coming up to catch them skillfully. She nods to the door she’s standing in front of, asking you if it’s the right one silently, pushing the house key on your keychain into the lock and twisting, the door opening with a click.

She takes a few slow steps into the apartment, looking around curiously, spotting a few photos hanging on the walls of the hallway. You enter after her, quickly kicking your shoes off with little to no regard for the overall cleanliness of the space, pulling a now half asleep Em through the open space between your kitchen, the hall and the living room.

Nika can hear the loud groan as you drop Em off on the couch, your back popping loudly as you stretch your muscles out, returning to the hall with heavy steps. You meet her with a tired smile, telling her to follow you.

“You want anything to eat? Drink? Anything?” You ask the beauty as she follows you into the kitchen, head on a swivel as she studies your apartment, looking down at the books laying on your table, wide open for anyone to see. Seeing her eyes widen at the problems, you chuckle quietly, not wanting to disturb Emma sleeping in the next room over.

“Yeah, that was my reaction too.” Crossing your arms across your chest, you lean back against the counter behind you, waiting for the girl in front of you to answer your previous question. “Come on, I’ll make you some tea.”

The woman giggles at your words, the stereotypical brit in you coming out as you push off the counter and saunter over to the kettle, filling it up with enough water for a cup each. You look back with a smile of your own before turning the tap off and returning the kettle to the tray, pushing the on button before turning around.

The sight you see as you turn around is one of Nika, sitting on your countertop with one leg crossed over the other, hands clutching the edge softly.

A comfortable silence covers the room as you stand on opposite sides waiting for the kettle to boil, you moving around the room to fetch two cups out of the cupboard, plopping a teabag in each cup, pouring the now boiling water over the tea, making the once clear water a sheer dark brown.

“There you go.” You say as you hand her one of the cups, a blue mug with small green dinosaurs painted all around, your own just a plain white one.

“Thank you.” The words of gratitude are whispered but you hear them all the same, watching her take a sip before she places the warm mug down on the counter right beside her thigh. She looks up, seeing your intense gaze fixed on her, turning her head down shyly, uncharacteristically. “Hi.”

“Hi.” You respond, smiling softly once more, taking your own sip of your tea. “If you want a shower, the bathroom is at the end of the hall, there are clean towels on the rack in there already, then you can take my bed, first door on the left.” Keeping your eyes locked on her, you see the tiny nod she gives at the information, absentmindedly hopping off the counter and moving towards the hallway leading to the bathroom before she stops suddenly, peeking her head around the corner to look at you.

“What about you?” She questions, her brows furrowed adorably in confusion.

“What about me?” You ask right back, now as confused as she is, not understanding what she meant.

“Where are you sleeping?” She asks as if it’s obvious, rolling her eyes sassily at you.

“Oh, I’ll just cuddle up to dear Em.” You smile almost sarcastically, like you can’t wait to have Em’s sharp elbow digging into your ribs in the near future.

“I don’t mind sharing with you.” Despite the way she says it, you know that Nika is being fully truthful in her confession, especially as she shrugs her shoulders at your questioning look.

“No, I can’t do that.” You say, unsure in the words coming out your own mouth more than anything.

“I don’t mind sharing with you, it can’t be worse than sharing with P anyway.” She doubles down on her previous statement, shaking her head at your stubborn nature.

“Nika, you don’t understand, I have to finish this up and by the time I’m done it’s going to be late…” You try to explain, plopping back down into the chair at your kitchen table, picking your pen up and focusing your eyes back down on the paper, not noticing the woman in question nearing you again until she’s standing right in front of you, her fingers plucking the pen right out of your hand.

“Do it tomorrow.” She says in that captivating tone, making you want to do exactly what she’s suggesting, despite the fact that it was something you so desperately needed to do. Extremely convincing indeed.

“Nika…” You sigh, and she knows that you’re not far from agreeing, just a little more needed to get you over the edge. Nika hums softly, handing you your pen back with a small smirk on her annoyingly pretty face.

“You know you want to.” She says into the tension filled air, physical sparks almost flying between your bodies as she leans in ever so slightly, your faces only inches apart from each other.

“How do you know what I want?” You counter, a blush creeping up your neck at her cocky smirk, trying your hardest not to seem squirmish under her intense look, uncharacteristic for your usual confident self. Still, a curious look creeps up on your face as you wait for her answer, the corners of your lips peeking up ever so slightly.

“Psychic.” She motions around with her hands, putting two fingers to her temple like she’s about to read the aura you emit, and you can’t help but lean back in your chair, snorting at the notion that she could do something like that.

“Yeah, yeah, go take a shower.” You roll your eyes playfully as she walks away, turning back to make the universal ‘I’m keeping my eyes on you’ gesture, a silly smile erupting on your face as her back turns to you fully, shaking your head at the antics.

You can hear the shower starting, the water splashing against the bathroom floor and the metal of Nika’s belt buckle being undone.

Looking back down at the books, you start trying to solve the next problem, your back hunched over the table uncomfortably, eyes straining against the soft lighting just about giving the papers enough visibility. The scratching of your pencil is comforting, repetitive but nice, keeping the light headache just starting to form at bay.

There’s no way to tell how much time that had passed as you sat in your dimly lit kitchen, ears picking up on the shower stopping but you didn't pay it much attention, still stuck on the same problem as before.

Letting out a sigh of relief as you finally get the equation right, you hear your name being called from the open doorway, no door sitting in the space, and you can physically feel your heart speeding up in your chest, banging against your ribs harshly for the thousandth time that day. Your mouth turns dry and your pupils expand exponentially, a rose colored tint on your cheeks.

Nika’s dark brown curls drip water onto your floor, droplets of water running down the top of her chest, stopping only when they come into contact with the absorbent material of the towel tightly wrapped around her body. Her collarbones on full display for your eyes to drink in, looking like they were sculpted in marble by Michelangelo, no not even he could do the goddess standing in front of you any justice.

In the matter of seconds you were fully awake, not even a remnant of the previous exhaustion in your mind, thousands of thoughts running through your mind at the same time making you completely short circuit.

You were, as most called it, gay panicking.

When you come back into ‘consciousness’ Nika is standing right in front of you, looking concerned and waving her hand in front of your eyes, trying to gain your attention.

“Yo, you okay?” She asks, that furrow back in her brow, deepening when you can’t seem to find the right words to reply to her, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

“Yea- uh yeah I’m dandy, what did you want to know?” You answer, mouth still dry like the desert but your thoughts are more collected than before. Redirecting your eyes so that you’re looking back at your homework, you don’t see the concern still in her expression, nor as she brushes it off and decides that maybe it didn’t matter.

“Can I borrow some clothes? I don’t have anything to change into.” Nika tells you and you hum, throwing out a simple response.

“Sure, my wardrobe is in my bedroom, take whatever you like.” The only thing you can hear after that is the thudding of her steps against your floor, retreating towards your room, the click of the door opening and closing making you let out the breath you didn’t even know you were holding in, slapping your hand over your face at the fool you were making yourself out to be.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You whisper to yourself, rubbing your eyes harshly before sighing, flipping your books close and starting to tidy up all the papers laying all over your kitchen, yawning softly as you bend down to pick up the last piece of paper on the floor.

It’s unexpected when hands grip your hips, pulling you backwards like you were a dog being dragged by its hind legs. Looking back at Nika, all she does is smile mischievously and continue to pull you back with her.

“Nika, what are you doing?” By now you’re standing up a little more, her hands still situated on your hips, beginning to slide upwards to take hold of your waist instead.

“Getting you to bed.” She answers, not letting you go even as you move to continue cleaning up the kitchen. “What are you doing?”

“Cleaning my kitchen.” You tell her like it’s obvious, even rolling your eyes for the extra effect needed to convey your ‘message’. She hums, deciding on what her next course of action should be as you keep moving around, dragging her along.

“Do it in the morning.” Nika tells you almost sternly, trying to actually pull you towards your bedroom now instead of the half assed way she was doing it before.

“Nika come-” You start off before you’re interrupted, not having much of a choice in following her instructions this time.

“Nope, in the morning.” Letting yourself get dragged to your bedroom, you shut the door behind the two of you after the brunette finally let go of you, instead turning to your bed and slipping under the comfortable covers.

You however, move towards your wardrobe, ready to get out of the clothes that you had been outside in, they weren’t getting in your bed. The clean pair of shorts and the t-shirt you pull out replace the dirty clothes, not even noticing Nika’s steady eyes on you all throughout the process, your tired mind just wanting to go to sleep after the long day.

Shuffling over to the bed, you get under the blanket and go to get more comfortable, tossing for a few seconds before reaching over to turn off the bedside lamp Nika must have turned on when she was in choosing her sleepwear before.

Arms thread around your waist once more, with you laying on your back and her laying on her side, a leg slung over your thighs and her head placed on your chest, surprisingly cuddly and comfortable.

“This okay?” She questions timidly, looking up at you through heavy eyelids, begging for the rest that’s soon to come. Nika can only see the movement of your head, nodding back and forth tiredly, your right hand coming up to lay behind your head.

“Good night Nika.”

“Good night Y/n/n.”

An hour later when Em gets up to go pee, she decides to check on you, taking a little detour and opening your door just a little, seeing you and her brother’s girlfriend snuggled up tightly to each other, asleep face to face.

She chuckles quietly before closing the door back up and making her way to the bathroom, muttering something under her breath in order to not wake you both.

“I’ve seen lesbian porn straighter than that.”

#woso #woso x reader #arsenal wfc #woso imagines #10/10 series #nika muhl x reader #nika muhl #wbb x reader #uconn wbb

243 notes · View notes

dentesal · 1 month ago

Text

Concept for a tail for dmc3 Vergil + Force Edge DT(?)

"It is know that their bone structure is made of some kind of metal, as seen by their horns, teeth and even some parts of their rib cage bursting out of their skin. Most curious however, it seems that their spine is made of a completely different material, judging by the two protrusions springing out of the back of their necks" - 1/2

"It is theorized that significant events that happen with half-humans can have a influence on their half-demons appearance. The most compelling proof of that is Vergil, who despite the short time in possession of his father's sword, was able to create a whole new limp just for the purpose of handling it, while letting his hands free to use the Yamato as usual." - 2/2

#based on the fact that swinging a big sword with a tail is cool as hell #second image is purely for self indulgence. You can ignore it #devil may cry #devil may cry 3 #dmc #vergil #vergil sparda #yamato dt #art #devil trigger

61 notes · View notes

mirnightghost · 2 years ago

Text

Tw: blood

...it was supposed to be a comic, but a lot went wrong, so..keep this little description:

Sticky, warm blood spread across his chest, trying to hide the terrible wounds left by the cold metal. The eyelids grew heavy, and the boundless darkness crept up to forever take the knight into his silent realm of death. "Ambrosius...I'm...sorry."

Hands gently but tightly wrapped around his body. "Shh, it's okay, it's okay"

Oh, that voice. So dear to him voice now repeated these words with pain like a mantra, as if it could change something. But breathing became harder and harder every moment. “Oh no no no no don’t leave me. Bal, please don't leave me alone!"

Now it was like a prayer. A prayer that heavens will never hear. But the knight in dark armor heed this prayer. And hundreds of thoughts and words that he would like to say ran through his mind. And then everything went quiet. And he plunged into darkness.

I have to say that I am not a writer, so the structure of the text and the words may seem strange. Sorry~

Anyway, I would like to share with you the context of what is going on here and why!

I thought that, as in all existing societies, there will always be those who are against changes. It so happened historically that not all people are ready for changes, because changes are always scary. And, of course, no matter how heartbreaking the scene with Nimona is, you can never get the respect of the entire kingdom. Especially the elite, which can lose control. Since Ambrosius remained the only "main" person of the kingdom, he did the main work of changing people's minds. And that part of the elite that was against it, saw it as a conspiracy. Allegedly, Ambrosius did this not for the benefit of society, but for the benefit of his partner. Therefore, the ranks of the conspirators grew and became stronger. And when they gathered enough strength, the uprisings/resistance to new arrangements and power began.

And it is in one of the clashes with these conspirators that Ballister is mortally wounded...or not?

Yes, yes, you understood correctly, I have two endings. Of course.

Anyway, I find this concept more interesting, as it brings me a little closer to political things, making things darker and therefore more interesting. After all, what is happiness worth if you don’t have to fight for it?

▪︎

Oh...I don't think I want to write about how difficult it was to draw all this...just say i'm glad I finished it.

Thank you for your attention

See ya~

1K notes · View notes

ddejavvu · 2 years ago

Note

asking anakin to pin you to the wall or choke you using the force 🥵

mei i would BEG him on my hands and knees

so this covers inappropriate uses of the force that go far beyond choking because i have far too many thoughts on the concept and couldn't stop myself there, oops!

obvious cw for choking/restraint, don't read if it will bother you.

this post is 18+, minors dni.

well we definitely know he doesn't have an aversion to force-choking !! he's very tactile, and he most likely already has asked, or you've asked him, to choke you during sex. he loves it. he loves feeling the rush of your blood under his hand, he loves feeling your life sitting completely bare beneath his fingers like that, his hand against your skin. with his flesh hand, which soaks up the heat of your neck as he slowly wraps his fingers around you, squeezing until he can feel your heart thumping wildly through your pulse and smothering his skin into your warmth. with his prosthetic hand, which is chilly and unrelenting without its leather glove, and darkly sexy with it. It doesn't matter which hand he uses, he gets remarkably turned on by the way that you lean into it, the way that you bare your neck- your life for him to use like a plaything.

you'd watched him crumple a can of booze with the Force the other day; something cheap he'd wasted his credits on for the thrill of it. his gloved hand had formed the shape of the can, then squeezed inward gracefully, and the metal had crumpled formlessly into a mangled wreck that Anakin had slipped through a rather narrow trash compactor opening. He'd only done it to avoid getting caught with the liquor, but your throat stings when you think about the way that his black glove had tightened slowly, deliberately, mercilessly around nothingness as the can crumpled.

you have to ask him.

you had meant to have a discussion with him about it, a structured, clear conversation about whether he was comfortable with it, not only the act but the blatant disrespect of the code by a rather improper use of the Force. but he'd gotten handsy after returning from a day of sparring, and when his hand reaches for your throat, hips pumping steadily against your own and driving his cock into you forcefully with each thrust, you reach up to stop it.

You clutch at his hand and pull it away from your neck, eyes pleading as he stares worriedly down at you. He lets you deter him from your neck, thrusts petering out into a slow rhythm when you whine after he stops them altogether.

"What's wrong?" He asks bluntly, because anakin has never beaten around the bush, "Why can't I choke you?"

"I want you to," You clear your suddenly dry throat, ready to explain but yanking his hand back down when he tries resuming his original endeavor, "Wait- Anakin, I want you to use the Force!"

that stops him. your core aches and begs for him to resume his steady thrusting, but he's sheathed himself completely in your cunt, so you're stuffed to the brim while he contemplates your words. You feel bad for putting him on the spot, but his eyes darken a shade as some of the light leaves them, and his brow twitches.

"What?"

"I want you to choke me with the Force," You repeat, craning your neck down to kiss at the black leather pads of his gloved fingers, "Please, Anakin, I- I just want- just like you do normally, but with the Force. I know it's- improper, and- and disrespectful to the Force, but-"

All of a sudden, your lungs freeze in their pursuit of oxygen, and words fail you. Your chest is still, no air entering or escaping, and Anakin's fingers twitch slightly where he loosens his disembodied grip on your windpipe just enough for you to take in a proper breath.

"I am the Force," He speaks through gritted teeth, and his words flood your core with heat just as much as the relentless grip on your throat does, "Holding back would be disrespectful." He leans over you, his hand maintaining both pressure and distance as he fits his body around it. He remains fully immersed in your cunt, his dick stuffed inside of you as you clench around him desperately, and his breath is hot on your face as he towers above you.

"Not telling me what you want, would be disrespectful." He lectures, eyes only growing darker as you feel your lungs burning in your chest. You gasp for air, only able to drag in a miniscule amount as he continues closing his fingers around your windpipe, "I never feel closer to the Force than when I am inside of you. I am the Force, we are the Force, and hiding anything that would strengthen that force would be disrespectful."

You take in another rattling breath, but his fingers cut you off completely, sending a bolt of overwhelming pleasure to your core as the leather of his glove creaks slightly with the twitch of his fingers.

"Understand?" He asks, and you nod vigorously.

"Speak." He commands, loosening his grip so that you can gush, 'Yes! Yes, Anakin, I understand!"

"Good." He seals off your airway once more, that delicious burning feeling transferring straight from your chest to your cunt, your thighs trembling slightly as you feel his cock twitch inside of you.

the two of you share intense orgasms that night, both now enamored by this concept. it's a complete power trip for anakin, the fact that he doesn't even have to touch you to have your life in his hands? his hand doesn't need to contact your skin for it to get you hot and bothered, he can turn you on from a mile away.

this might be a problem for you, though. because anakin is nothing if not creative and inventive, which means that you feel invisible fingers gently nudging themselves against your cunt one day. you're at home, anakin's reading through a report while you're curled up watching something, but you startle at the touch nonetheless, eyes peeled for whatever had touched you.

you notice anakin's hand poised with two fingers outstretched, that dark glint in his eyes once more as he leans back in his chair. he nudges his fingers forwards again, and you feel that prodding at your core, an embarrassingly intense gush of raw lust aching below your stomach.

"Anakin..." You warn, but you're not sure if the apprehension is leveled at him, or yourself. warning him to be careful, warning yourself to maintain composure, neither work.

He strokes his fingers slightly back and forth, rubbing down the length of your slit, then ending at your clit. it's such a familiar sensation but unnervingly new at the same time, and you can't withhold your gasp as he pushes ever so slightly to breach the tension of your lips. with a twitch of his finger he rubs against your clit and though you're woefully underlubricated, all he has to do is continue running those tantalizingly invisible fingers over your core and soon enough you're clenching around emptiness that's quickly filled with his nonexistent fingers.

it's a strange sensation, but anakin's eyes are glued predatorily to the way that your cunt widens and narrows with every pump of his fingers, and his hand twitches in mid-air as he brings you towards your climax. he's mesmerized, he's never been able to see such an unobstructed view of your convulsing cunt before, and you'll be lucky to escape from his relentless fingers before you're nearly passed out in exhaustion from cumming so many times in a row. he studies you, gets down on his knees in front of the couch to peer transfixed into your cunt as he finger-fucks you with a hand that isn't there. he's now addicted to force-fucking you, so expect it to happen at rather inopportune times.

another favorite tactic of his is to force your mouth open with just a wave of his hand. he loves to see you choking yourself on his cock but you've both discovered there's something deeply sexy about being restrained, and instead of just kneeling above your face and throat-fucking you, he decides to take your mouth with the Force. he holds it ajar, the perfect circumference for his cock, and fucks your mouth, using that invisible appendage to keep your lips parted as you gag and sob on him. your hands fly up to grab at his hips but you're not trying to push him off, no, you're yanking him forwards, dragging him down, begging him to stuff his leaking, twitching cock even further down your throat. even when he cums down your throat and releases his hold on your mouth you leave it hanging open, panting with the effort of simply breathing, and trying to wrap your head around just how fucking hot what he just did was.

if/when you ask him to pin you to the wall, he's so fucking cocky about it. these insufferable smirks as he pushes you up against it, pinning your limbs in place and leaning in to talk with his nose brushed against yours.

'Yeah? You want me to hold you down, baby? You want me to take whatever I want from you, don't you?'

you nod, the only part of your body still at your free will being your head, and it bumps against the wall in your vigor but you don't care. all you care about is letting him take control of you, is being splayed out on the wall like a trophy for him, and letting him do whatever he pleases.

'Good,' he leans in to kiss you, hot and wet and careless and sloppy, 'Good, angel. Maker, I'm obsessed with you. You're so good, so pretty-" as he trails his hand across your still torso, his thumb dipping between your legs to nudge fondly over your clit, 'you're mine.'

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker scenario #anakin skywalker oneshot #anakin skywalker one-shot #anakin skywalker one shot #anakin skywalker headcanon #anakin skywalker headcanons #anakin skywalker hcs #anakin skywalker hc #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker fanfic #anakin skywalker fic #anakin skywalker blurb #anakin skywalker drabble #anakin skywalker dialogue #anakin skywalker fluff #anakin skywalker smut

863 notes · View notes

memento-morianon · 29 days ago

Text

New worldbuilding post for @creators-club

I don't think I talk about my pixies enough.

They're large insects in the same family as bees and wasps, and visually they have very similar body types to their smaller cousins.

Pixies have only been legally defined as people for a couple centuries, as the vertebrate people around them took a while to truly realize how intelligent they were.

Much to their chagrin, the pixies accepted their new legal personhood with the announcement that they had also been observing the vertebrate folk and trying to decide if they were civilized and sapient enough to define as people by pixie standards.

Before all this, pixies had been viewed as rather dangerous insects to be avoided for fear of their venomous sting. The goblins used to eat them, and only increased their pixie consumption during the goblin revolution to get pixie venom into their skin mucus as a form of biological weapon.

The vertebrate folks apologized profusely for the way they used to treat pixies, and the pixies accepted the apology. You see, pixies are actually quite advanced in their technological skills, and much like the crews of star trek, they had been practicing observation without interference for centuries. They watched the vertebrate people and took note of their advancing development but never interfered or gave them access to more advanced technology, and accepted their attacks on pixies as a hazard of the job, the unfortunate casualty of performing close observations on dangerous creatures.

Pixies do not view death the same way other people might view it. Their hive population have a collective connected memory, so every individual who dies still leaves their memories in the hive, absorbed into the collective like a ghost. Their individual life may be mourned, but their body was merely a vessel and extension of the greater hive population. Pixies have fairly short lives as it is, though they live much longer than most insects. The average pixie might live up to 10 years in ideal conditions. Their egg layers live longer, up to 50 years if they're lucky. It's the drones who have the shortest life, only surviving for 6 months if they never mate with an egg layer, and less than that if they do, because the mating process inevitably kills them.

Drones, the only "males" of the species, are viewed almost as sacred beings, carrying their own hives memories over to an ally hive and then giving their lives to ensure the next generation can be born. They are protected and treated with a great amount of ceremony by their birth hive and the hive who will receive them.

Pixies have a hard time understanding individualism. They have individual personalities of their own, of course. But they're so intrinsically connected to their hive, instinctively and actively doing what's best for the collective, that the concept of individualism simply confuses them. It seems so inefficient.

Pixies are very organized workers. They have two main biological castes; hive workers and scouts. Hive workers remain in or near the hive, doing construction work, keeping the hive clean, caring for eggs and larvae, managing food storage, etc. Scouts work outside the hive, performing scientific observations, protecting the hive, and gathering food. They are also messengers.

Most pixie technology is only useful for pixies. They make what they need, to solve problems and make their lives more comfortable. Technology to better protect the hive from weather changes, to reinforce the structure of the hive, or to store food better. Their pupation silk is capable of conducting energy, which they have used to great effect within their hives, much like electrical wiring. Through the use of magic, silk wiring, and carefully constructed devices, they have also found ways to temper their wax and create new forms of it with unique properties.

Pixies rarely use metal, since thye have no way to forge it without causing serious danger to themselves and their hive, but when they can find it in small pieces that are easier to shape, they use it in their most important technology, such as simple radios and telegraphs. They have also shared this technology with the vertebrate people, and worked alongside them to create larger devices. Pixies have become a staple of every community, thanks to their communications technology.

The single most interesting bit of tech the pixies have created is a device that allows them to communicate with the vertebrate people. The vertebrate people are so limited in their communication, after all, they can't use pheromones or connect with a hive mind. So the pixies have crafted small devices that produce sound when vibrated. Only the most skilled scout pixies can use them to full effect, altering the vibrations of their own bodies to produce a wide variety of sounds rapidly enough to synthesize a spoken voice.

The sound of this synthesized voice is very similar to the robotic monotone of early computer speech, so it can be difficult to understand, but people have gotten used to it.

Pixies continue to perform scientific studies on the vertebrate people, who perform studies on the pixies in return. Now that they are working with each other in a more mutual way, their studies have greatly improved.

While they have no need for names or even pronouns within the hive, scout pixies like to pick names for themselves when they interact with the vettebrate people. They typically pick a name by stealing a random word or phrase they have overheard, one which pleases them and suits their personality in some way.

Example names:

Toss-a-Log. Bundle-Up. Dozen. Drunk-Bastard. Get-Back-Here. Bless. Fresh. What-is-That.

Pixies also avoid using pronouns and filler words when they're using their vibration devices to speak to vertebrate people. They prefer to be as direct and clear as possible.

Pixie coloration varies by region, and each caste of pixie has a different pattern to their coloration.

So far I've only come up with one color variety.

(Image description: the first image shows pixies with blank outlines, comparing the sizes of their different castes. Drones are the smallest, at three inches, and have no stinger. Scouts are five inches and have a large stinger as well as fuzz on their legs and abdomen. Hive workers are six inches and have a much smaller stinger. Egg layers are eight inches and have a very large abdomen. The second image shows them all in color, with a black and yellow striped pattern. The drone and egg layer also have blue iridescence on their abdomens, and the scout and hive worker have slightly different stripe patterns. End description.)

#mm world details #writeblr #mm illustrations #pixies #insects

55 notes · View notes

xesnox · 5 months ago

Text

Here’s some more (Minecraft) Lost Ruins concept art!

This won’t be all, I’ll definitely post a general Mc human races lineup as well as some more character specific art of these two in the future, but I thought I’d get this little thing out to start.

Lore rant below, brace yourselves.

On the topic of Neo-Builders

History:

Very little is known about the Neo-Builders’ history, in-fact, the distinction between the ancients and them had only been made as of recent; as before they were assumed to one and the same, wich forced us to call back a lot of information we had thought to have previously established. Therefore, for now, only having been coined “Neo-Builders”, the “Neo” referring to new, and the term “Builder” a reference to older documents of the Ancients.

They’ve been quite the new phenomenon, only having been recorded within the last 50 years (OW time) of documentation: though this is difficult to be certain of as many antique relics, books and murals have since been either purged or stolen, so they very well may be older.

Biology:

Neo-Builders resemble what we know of the Ancients physiology almost to a tea, being a bipedal humanoid mammal measuring the average height of 6’2. Owning an internal skeleton and organs identical to those of any classified human (see page 104.) excluding the illagers (though self inflicted mutilation can be argued is not a standard biological requirement that should classify one to be taken from that category, despite requests from certain Villagers.).

They can be characterised by their slightly elongated skulls and a more often than not rather thin nose bridge. Their skin colouration tends to remain on the cool side, but seem not to range beyond the usual earthy tones, whilst eye colouration varies into each and every direction possible, including odd pupil shapes and unusually large irises.

A properly dissect-able body of a Neo-Builder is incredibly rare to find, as the entities themselves are already practically unheard of, so we do not have a lot of insight beyond one and a half example models;

But strangely enough the lack of visible veins seem to be more of a manmade aesthetic choice than a naturally evolved mechanism, their color nearly invisible and generally settled deeper within the body than what we commonly observe in the remains of the Ancients. They do not bleed, as the body doesn’t seem to utilise energy through a normal circulatory system: instead using “energy of the spirits” (see page 109: “forbidden sorcery.”) as a powerful energy source, giving any actually visible blood vessels (commonly found within the hands, wrists, forearms, neck, ears, ankles and feet.) a strange light blue glow that more often than not overpowers the thickness of their skin at-least partially.

Additionally, their organs and bone structure are supported by mechanical aids made of varying metals, specifically around the femur, spinal chord, arms, heart, lungs, and general joints.

Their eyes show a similar construction to those of the guardians, wich could lead one to believe they weren’t as new of a phenomenon as we had settled on reporting for now, though nothing concrete could be found thus far to fully support this idea.

They show a staggering immunity to both the green plague and the withering disease, and aren’t affected by any kind of physical corruption.

The Neo-Builders also do not reproduce naturally.

Culture:

We have not yet been able to observe any specific overarching culture within this people, as it is incredibly rare to find them within groups, this only having been documented twice across the entire to us beknownst world within the last half a century of literature. However they do share a few common behavioural traits, such as wearing durable clothes identified as ancient working class attire at large, harvesting materials and cleaning the Overworld of junk and rubble, of wich not much remains. They appear to have a specific affinity for saving those in need.

The only sentiment on religion they seem to share, is the fact that there were three Devine entities of some kind, wich overlaps enough with the belief system we established the ancients to have to draw our own conclusions from.

Psychology:

This race, to our, especially my, utter surprise is not only capable of communication but also entirely willing of participating in study, conversation and labour, wich is not only unusual, but unheard of.

The language they speak natively however sounds unlike anything we’d heard before, it doesn’t seem to have connections to any languages we documented beforehand, they cannot write nor read it, wich further complicated early communication as well as desperate attempts to figure whether this was the language written within the hieroglyphs of the ruins, of wich we still have unclear results.

They do not seem aware of who they are, who they were, or what their purpose is: some, of course, have found a purpose over the years, through affinity for something, a newfound passion or a mission they strive to complete, but each one of their earliest memories begin cryptically, as if they had simply beamed into existence within adulthood. None elaborate further.

They also do not appear to have empathy, as in ability to put themselves into the shoes of others unless the situation is explicitly explained to them. So they work better in social situations if you tell them the desired outcome they can strive toward reaching than if you gave them a long and detailed layout of how something could be emotionally upsetting, even if the latter is followed by a suggestion for improvement, if your time requires efficient fast action that is.

They are not afraid of the dead, in fact, they seem to have a strange affinity for it: something that definitely needs to be kept under very strict moderation.

Uncategorised:

- there are no Neo-Builders resembling teens or children, all appearing to be somewhere within young to late adulthood physically.

- they are not afraid of magic, including soul fire, soul magic, experience, potions, enchantment and other forces, unlike the Piglin.

- They have an affinity for the music the realm reverberates from time to time.

- they enjoy watching and analysing fairly complicated mechanical work without having the ability or skill to recreate them, very commonly growing fond of acquiring knowledge.

- the Endermen appear to have a vague interest in them. From what we can tell they enjoy study as much as the next person, however the interest seems to go beyond mere meek curiosity. Wich is a large reason for concern and one of the biggest reasons to try and keep Neo-Builders away from your village if you do not wish for a tear in space and a mass hysteria breakout from realm collapsing issues: remember, they will not hurt you, however, they are a walking anomaly to our world, therefore it’s safer to keep your distance, and keep them away.

- the illagers show a similar concerning interest which definitely sets a top priority in limiting interaction with the Neo-Builders.

- however, the Piglin seem to heavily dislike them, immediately resorting to violence upon seeing such an individual. This is very odd for the maybe a little pessimistic but overall neutral species, but they refused to speak on the matter.

Theories:

We theorise they might be mechanical entities. Not golems, or robotic in nature per say, but definitely reading of bio mechanical interference. I have settled on several possible origins of these entities, very little of them implying this new add-on to the human umbrella term to be reading of any good, but I do not have enough evidence or study to back up my claims as I’ve currently put my research on hold for exterior reasons.

Note: this entry is outdated.

#minecraft #minecraft lore #minecraft theory #fanart #minecraft art #artists on tumblr #artwork #mineblr #minecraft au #concept art #minecraft steve #minecraft alex #minecraft ask blog #this strange fandom is actually rotting my brain #also didn’t mention this previously but the lore texts below for both the Wither concept and this one are written by an in universe person!#think of it kind of like the mobeastiary

136 notes · View notes