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cirusthecitrus · 8 months

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Iliad? In my She-Ra cartoon? It's more likely than you think

Some of you may know that og Hordak and Prime (from the motu franchise) also have "normal" names. Sooo, you know how long it took my dumb ass to realize that Hec-Tor and Anillis are spelled and pronounced suspiciously similar to Hector and Achilles - u know, the heroes from Homer's Iliad??*

I have no idea if this lil trivia fact is an intentional reference or not or if this specific choice of characters is supposed to mean anything at all. But it means everything to ME

Because why Horde Prime of all people was given the name of a hero?? Why Hordak, his brother, was given the name of his enemy and his victim? And why do these names fit the 2018s versions of these characters so well?

!I'm not an expert in ancient literature or greek mythology/history or anything close so my knowledge and understanding of the Iliad and its characters is literaly on the surface level! I'm only making this post cause looking for parallels is fun c:

Horde Prime as Achilles

The mythological hero, Achilles was often reffered to as the beast, or pure element, force of nature, or even a star. Not a person, not a human being

He was an exceptional fierce hero known for his passion and determination, but also his arrogance and stubborness. Noble yet often selfish and capricious, understanding and caring yet cruel

The one who possesed arcane knowledge about the fate of humanity, and with it - about his own destiny

The one protected by the gods, who was so close to godhood himself, whos body was immortalized in the river Styx

And yet, one small part remained vulnerable, a part of him stayed painfully human. And once it was discovered and aimed at, he was as good as dead

The one who was driven by horrific almost animalistic rage. Rage that came from pain and grief. Rage that came... from love?

Achilles lost someone dear to him and this loss blinded him with desire for revenge, made him chase after the warrior who took his loved one from him. He refused to let go, not even letting go of Hector's corpse

Hordak as Hector

Described as "deserving of love" Hector was a great warrior, deeply devoted and loyal to his home and his cause

A brave unstoppable leader who nonetheless made many mistakes by letting his human emotions and traits make him act unwise, arrogant, reckless and naive

The one who believed in his gods and trusted so many, but in the end was only deceived and lied to. And this lie was the reason why Hector could not escape Achilles' wrath

The cause and the victim of Achilles' rage. His personal enemy, the one who killed his beloved. The one who feared Achilles so much yet in the end stopped running away and faced him in their first and final duel

The one who lost everything. Doomed to die tragically by Achilles' hand. Hector didnt even beg for mercy, only for his body to be treated with respect, but Achilles could not be reasoned with. Instead he dragged his corpse behind his chariot for days on end, not letting him rest. Not letting Hector return home to his family

But wait, who is Patroclus of this story?

Funny how this part of Achilles' story fits Hordak a lot more, since it was him who lost a dear friend and it was him who was consumed with grief and fury. Thus, in a way, Hordak is both Hector and Achilles and Entrapta is his Patroclus. But what's Prime's deal then?

We can always enter fanon territory and headcanon that Prime might have lost someone a long time ago and grief turned him into a monster. Could be a lover, could be a friend or family, could be his old self even. But then what Hordak had to do with it? Why he became the target of his rage?

Perhaps in this version Patroclus isn't even a person. An idea of perfection and control. Hordak's imperfections ruined the image of his ideal world where everything goes his way, ruined his own image, the facade of an all mighty god who could not make a mistake or create something less than perfect. In a sense Hordak's defect and later betryal killed everything Prime was working on and was trying to achieve, everything he believed in

Perhaps Hordak is both Hector and Patroclus. A brother Prime loved so much, but only when he was still a perfect obedient doll with no name. But once Hordak began to change, showing his personhood and becoming harder to control, becoming unrecognizable, HP could not accept it. In his mind Prime lost a brother, and someone who named himself Hordak was his murderer

Again, I have no idea why the hell they chose these names for their aliases. Achilles and Hector were in no way pure or flawless people, but... they were still heroes. Does this say anything about the characters of Horde Prime and Hordak or their dynamic? Especially their motu versions**?? Or was this just a reference for the sake of reference? (oh maybe im only seeing things and its not even a reference??) They could've chosen an iconic pair of tragic brothers instead idk on the surface it'd seem more fitting :/

But i'd rather keep my tinfoil hat on and think that it was all intentional, because I'm LIVING for the implications regarding Prime's humanity .з.

**Motu fans and experts if you're reading this, i'd love to hear your thoughts on this, you have to know more than me!

#spop #horde prime #hordak #shera #spop meta #the galactic horde #spacebats #ramblings #*just wanna clarify that the realization only hit me like a month or two ago #so all the possible parallels between them and Anillis and Hec-Tor from my Kur twins au are purely accidental lol #and no my boys dont become enemies!

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happybird16 · 1 year

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•Chapter One•

Naga!Levi Ackerman/Fem!Reader

Summary: Growing up, the forest's edge always darkened the far corner of your small village. The giant, twisted branches overhead rendered the forest floor a terrifying, pitch black. You shouldn't be here. There's creatures here, dangerous ones.

Overall warnings: Past references to child abuse, blood, scars, gore, mystery, eventual sex, inhuman genitalia (Levi is a snake man), horror vibes.

Chapter warnings: Horror vibes, mystery

Chapter length: 3.7k

Ao3 Link

The most special of shoutouts to my beloved friend and beta @theferricfox!!!! Also, credit to @the-milk-anon for the snake banner!!

Note: Welcome to my spin on Mermay! I have roughly 7/12 chapters done-ish for this! Comments and reblogs are always welcome!! I could use the inspo to continue lol!

Next chapter

You shouldn't be here.

Giant, ancient trees tower above, their twisted and gnarled branches interwoven to create a dense, impenetrable canopy that blankets the ground in an engulfing darkness. These colossal trees are so massive that even ten people, hand in hand, would struggle to encircle their trunks. In the face of such enormity, you feel minuscule, like a tiny mouse in a vast expanse, overshadowed by the towering branches that stretch higher than anything you've ever witnessed.

In your childhood, the edge of this forest marked the distant boundary of your small village. As young children, you and your friends would engage in daring games, cautiously venturing beneath the green canopy one foot at a time. Each step toward the darkness held a thrill, with adrenaline surging in your ears and laughter bubbling in your throat. You remember playfully nudging each other to go deeper, whispering tales of monsters until the alarmed cries of someone's parents would bring the game to an abrupt halt. It was all innocent play, a group of children tempting danger and challenging one another to venture further into the ominous jaws of the forest.

The Maw.

Now, every step forward fills you with an overwhelming sense of dread. The childlike wonder that once fueled your adventures has vanished, replaced by a pounding heart lodged in your throat. The once enticing forest now instills a deep sense of apprehension and unease.

You're in The Maw.

It's named such because it is a place that devours all who dare to venture into its depths. It teems with perilous creatures, their forms etched in your mind with vivid clarity—claws that rend, teeth that tear, and the sight of crimson blood staining the ground. The inhabitants of this forsaken realm include both savage beasts and eerie abominations, a chilling blend of half-human hybrids, demons, and towering giants. While rare for these creatures to stray beyond the forest's edge into your humble farming village, the disappearances of unsuspecting villagers were all too frequent. Vanished without a trace, they would be snatched from their beds in the dead of night or plucked from the fields in broad daylight. Some incidents left behind gruesome remnants of carnage, while others left nothing but an eerie absence. The Maw's hunger was insatiable, claiming lives and leaving a haunting sense of dread in its wake.

“F-ffuck,” you stutter, fighting against a stiff breeze to keep the hood of your cloak tight to your ears. It's cold. Fucking freezing actually. With each labored step, your body fights against the biting cold that gnaws at your skin. The hood of your cloak strains against the relentless wind, desperate to shield your ears from its icy grip. The weather has turned unforgiving since you entered the forest.

What began as a serene sunrise, painting the sky with hues of pink and yellow, has given way to a harsh reality. The gentle dusting of snow beneath your feet has transformed into a thick, heavy flurry. The temperature has plummeted, sending shards of icy pain with every breath you take. The bone-chilling cold seeps into your very core, inflicting aches that reverberate through your entire being. Each step is an agonizing struggle, your weary knees protesting with every creak. It feels as though you've never walked this far before, the physical toll becoming increasingly demanding with each passing moment.

Can't go back. Can't go back.

In the relentless darkness, your sense of time has become distorted, making it impossible to gauge how long you've been journeying through this treacherous forest. It feels like hours, perhaps even most of a day, has passed since you first set foot on this path. The initial signs of caution marked your entry into this perilous realm, with wooden boards warning of the impending danger, are long behind you. The words "Turn Back" and "Danger" were hastily scrawled in bright red, urging you to reconsider your course. The last sign you recall, which feels like an eternity ago, ominously proclaimed "Death Ahead."

The biting cold has taken its toll, numbing your body and rendering your toes distant and fuzzy within the confines of your leather boots. The wind howls in your ears, drowning out all other sounds, but occasionally you catch the panicked shuffling of small creatures seeking refuge from the tempest. Every noise, no matter how faint, puts you on edge, heightening your anxiety with each passing moment. Progress becomes increasingly arduous as you press forward, battling against the biting cold and the relentless forces of nature.

The oppressive darkness seems to intensify the longer the day drags on, engulfing your surroundings and adding to your growing fatigue. You struggle to maintain your balance, feeling the weight of exhaustion in every step. The biting cold cuts through your clothing, seeping into your bones, and you tightly wrap your coat around yourself in a feeble attempt to shield against the frigid air.

With determination in your voice, you mutter to yourself, "Can't go back. Can't go back." Despite the numbing cold and the seemingly endless journey, turning back is not an option. You press on, summoning whatever strength remains within you.

As you trudge forward, a brief break in the dense canopy allows a glimpse of the sky above. However, there is no welcoming sight of an evening sky with its fading hues. Instead, a tumultuous scene unfolds with dark and furious clouds obscuring any sense of time. In the distance, the white-capped peaks of The Spine stand resolute, yet seemingly no closer than when you first embarked on this arduous trek. Doubt begins to creep in, and you repeat to yourself, "I can't. I can't."

But you have to. Of course there'd be a storm. Just your luck.

The bitter cold continues to gnaw at your body, its icy grip sapping your strength and resolve. Hopefully the weather convinced any hungry mouths to stay home. The storm raging around you adds to the foreboding atmosphere, amplifying your sense of vulnerability. You can’t help but feel a sense of grim irony that the weather itself might be the cause of your demise before any of the lurking dangers within The Maw.

Navigating through the labyrinthine depths of The Maw is no easy feat, especially without a clear destination in mind. The absence of a guide or a map leaves you relying solely on your instincts and determination. The path ahead remains shrouded in darkness, and uncertainty tugs at your thoughts. You don't even know where the fuck you're going.

Despite the doubts and the physical strain, you carry on, propelled by a mix of resilience and desperation. The legacy of fear and caution instilled by your village only adds to the weight on your shoulders, reminding you of the countless tales of those who ventured deeper into this forbidden territory and never returned.

The heavy snow has engulfed your legs, reaching up past your shins and creeping closer to your knees. Each step is an arduous struggle, accompanied by a resounding crunch and leaving behind a trail of deep boot prints in the snow.

The words escape your lips in a desperate whisper, “Shelter. Need to find shelter.” Your teeth chatter uncontrollably, and you hunch your shoulders in a futile attempt to shield yourself from the biting wind that threatens to knock you off balance. The hood of your cloak is pulled down as far as it can go, obscuring your vision, and you strain to see the path ahead. Forward is the only option. Forward is the only way to endure.

The Spine dominates your thoughts, an unwavering destination that holds the key to your quest. It is the mountain range at the heart of The Maw, and you must reach its base. There is no turning back, no retreat, not unless you find them.

The weight of the task ahead feels insurmountable, overwhelming you with a crushing sense of impossibility. The magnitude of the journey, coupled with the harsh realities of The Maw, fuels a nagging belief that survival is unattainable. The specter of death looms ominously, casting its dark shadow over your thoughts.

You're going to die out here.

An abrupt sound shatters the eerie silence, reverberating through the desolate expanse of The Maw. It resonates with a weight that sends shivers down your spine, amplifying your sense of unease. Instinctively, your hand reaches for the knife attached to your belt loop, its familiar weight grounding you in this perilous moment. It was your fathers hunting knife, the only thing you have left besides the clothes on your back and a small bit of supplies in your bag.

As your fingers clasp around the knife’s handle, a surge of adrenaline courses through your veins, mingling with the cold that permeates the air. The tremor in your hand betrays a mix of fear and the biting chill that surrounds you. Your grip tightens, seeking solace in the solid presence of the blade as you brace yourself for whatever lurks in the darkness.

Someone -something- curses in the distance. The distant swear cuts through the air, resonating with a chilling familiarity that freezes your very core. It echoes with a human quality, evoking haunting memories of voices that once whispered from the edge of The Maw during your childhood summers. Those beguiling voices, whether belonging to silver-tongued demons or ravenous wendigos, possessed a deceptive innocence, luring the unwary towards their perilous embrace. They wore the guise of familiarity, mimicking loved ones and casting their sinister spell.

But this time, the sound does not persist. It does not morph into the soothing tones of your mother's voice or the mischievous giggles of your younger brother. Instead, an unsettling silence descends upon the forest, amplifying the eerie stillness that pervades the surroundings. The once-constant symphony of rustling leaves and distant whispers is replaced by an oppressive hush, broken only by the howling wind that pierces your ears.

The skeletal branches of the ancient trees loom ahead, their gnarled forms resembling bony fingers reaching out in a macabre invitation. The forest, now stripped of its foliage, feels even more sinister, as if the very essence of its secrets and lurking dangers is concentrated in this barren landscape. Your instincts scream at you to tread cautiously, to be alert to the unseen perils that may lie in wait within the shadows.

Prey.

You have the sudden, panicky realization that you’re prey. The thought builds a solid, uncomfortable itch between your shoulder blades. Every fiber of your being trembles with the realization that you are nothing more than some predator's next quarry in this treacherous domain. The weight of vulnerability settles upon you like a suffocating shroud, your senses heightened to the point of hypersensitivity. There could be something hungry watching you in the distance, just waiting for you to tire yourself out. The notion of unseen eyes fixated upon your weary form fuels a primal panic, evoking a primal fight-or-flight response deep within your core.

Your fingers, numbed by the biting cold, clench around the knife, its presence offering a meager reassurance in this harrowing moment. With determined resolve, you steady your breathing, allowing each inhalation to calm your racing heart. One deliberate step at a time, you advance through the snow-laden terrain, your movements slow and measured, as if treading upon fragile ice.

Every crunch of snow beneath your boots feels deafening, resonating through the wintry silence. The haunting stillness amplifies the tension, heightening the suspense as you inch closer to the source of the disturbance.

It's a man, slumped against the trunk of a massive tree, his body partly concealed by the swiftly accumulating snow. As you cautiously draw nearer, you observe his disheveled state, lying motionless on his side. Your attention is immediately drawn to his coat, a patchwork of furs and skins stitched together from different animals. The garment stands out as peculiar, though it appears to provide warmth in this frigid environment.

There's someone else out here? The presence of another person this far into The Maw surprises you. Something along the back of your mind flares red in warning, reminding you of the possibility that this could be a trap. With this warning at the back of your thoughts, you proceed with caution, prepared for any untoward situation that may arise.

Knife held steady, you kneel next to his form. The snow immediately soaks through the material of your pants, burning cold against your skin.

With your knife still in hand, you carefully lower yourself beside the man, the icy snow seeping through your pants and chilling your skin. “Hey,” you call quietly, eyes assessing the stranger's face.

The thought crosses your mind: What if he's in a situation similar to yours? Lost and vulnerable in this treacherous wilderness, in desperate need of assistance?

Despite being unconscious, the man continues to shiver uncontrollably. His trembling is so intense that it causes the snow around him to tremble as well. The exposed patches of skin beneath his peculiar coat are inflamed, their bright pink hue indicative of discomfort. His features appear slack, his hair splayed out against the snowy ground, forming a stark contrast of black against white. You observe that his lips have taken on a slight bluish tint. Worry grips your heart as you implore, "Hey, you need to wake up. We have to get you up."

With mounting urgency, you observe the man's lack of response as his head remains nestled in the snow, becoming adorned with a delicate layer of white flakes. The sound of the knife slipping back into its sheath echoes softly, as your hands instinctively reach out to press against the stranger's shoulders in a desperate attempt to rouse him. "Hey, come on!" you plead.

Although his chest rises and falls with each shuddering breath, indicating that he is indeed alive, you still place a finger on his neck to feel for a pulse. It's slow, alarmingly sluggish compared to your own racing heartbeat. "Fuck! Wake up, wake up, wake up!" you chant urgently, slapping his cheeks with your gloved fingers. His skin feels unnaturally cold, even through the protective layer of your gloves.

As the man's eyes flutter open, his brow furrows with confusion, and he mumbles something barely audible. His head lolls back into the snow, and he shifts, his elbow digging into the snowy ground.

"Hey, hi. That's it. Look at me," you urge, your voice filled with a mix of concern and determination. You grasp his shoulders and gently tug, trying to encourage him to sit up. "Come on, you can't stay here. You need to get up. Is there somewhere warm nearby?"

His eyes finally open fully, revealing a glimpse of gray irises before they quickly close again. "No, no, no, come on!" you implore, cupping the base of his skull with one hand and using your other hand to deliver a firm but gentle slap to his cheek, attempting to bring him back to consciousness.

If he's here, there must be some sort of human settlement nearby. Somewhere warm and safe.

As you contemplate the possibility, your attention is abruptly drawn to your left by a movement in the snow. Panic grips you as you witness something massive and black emerging from beneath a thick layer of white.

"F-Fuck!" you scream, unable to contain your shock and fear. Your eyes widen as you realize it's a colossal snake tail, stretching out straight and partially buried in the snow. The unexpected sight causes you to lose your balance, and you fall back onto the cold ground, landing on your backside. "What the fuck!" you exclaim, your voice filled with a mix of terror and disbelief.

He's a Naga. An actual Naga, half snake half man. You've only heard of them in legends, tales whispered back and forth among the children of your village. Even in the darkness of the forest, his black scales glitter up at you like diamonds.

Stuck in your awe, now waist deep in the snow, you're suddenly reminded just how cold it is. Even with excited adrenaline making your limbs all jittery and sweaty, it's still freezing. The snow is falling more rapidly now, wind whistling through the trees to twist and warp their smaller branches.

Surging forward onto your knees, you move to cup his face yet again, intending to continue your prodding. If only you could get him up, he could save you both.

“Hsssssssh,” he hisses at you, teeth bared. His head doesn't rise, resting heavy in the snow, but a jaw full of sharp fangs widens in full aggressive display right next to your hand. Silvery eyes suddenly wide and alert, he glares up at you with a vicious heat, flaring a pointed tongue out to taste the air. “Hhhuman,” his nose curls up at the word.

The sight of his long, white incisors strikes cold fear into your heart. It brings you pause, fingers trembling against his pale cheek. “H-hey,” you start shakily, struggling to meet his gaze. His pupils are sharp, the thin pin prick lines of a predator. When he blinks, a thin translucent membrane precedes the eyelid, startlingly inhuman. You pause for a moment, your fingers still trembling against his pale cheek. Despite the fear coursing through you, you muster the courage to speak, your voice quivering. Meeting his gaze, you try to convey empathy and urgency.

“Hey,” you stutter, your voice barely audible as you try again. “I understand you’re wary, but we can’t stay here. It’s dangerously cold. We need to find shelter. Please, let’s get up and find somewhere warm.”

“Cold,” he repeats with a hiss. Claws dig into the snow by your knee. He blinks heavily, struggling, “Why…”

He’s clearly disoriented, prompting you to speak slowly and gently, trying to guide him to sit up.

“Come on! We need to find somewhere nearby, somewhere warm,” you encourage, tugging at his shoulders in an attempt to rouse him from his daze.

“Warm,” he mutters, eyes fluttering with a vague sense of recognition. Slowly, he rises, causing his magnificent, 20-foot-long tail to shake off the snowy coating. Its pitch-black scales glisten in the dim light, an awe-inspiring sight. “Nest.”

“Do you live somewhere nearby?” you inquire, keeping a close eye on his movements. Once he manages to prop himself up on the bend of his tail, he leans heavily against your side, almost toppling you over. With one hand on his back for support, you guide him forward, urging him to lead the way.

“Where is your nest?” you ask, hoping he can direct you to a warm and safe place nearby.

"Cave," he slurs, his voice muffled against your neck. As he stands upright, you realize he's slightly shorter than you. His heavy eyes close and open, struggling to stay alert. He trembles against your side, his senses keen as he tastes the air once more. "Human. Don't need your help."

The mention of a cave ignites a spark of hope within you. If there's a cave, it must be located on the edge of The Spine, nestled among the rocks on the mountainside. With renewed determination, you wrap your arm around his back, fingers pressing gently into the small of his waist. "Come on. Can you guide me there?" you implore, relying on his knowledge to find the refuge you both desperately need.

“Mhmmm,” he mutters nonsensically as his face burrows into the warmth of your neck, his cold nose pressing against your collarbone. He doesn’t respond to your question, instead leaning heavily against your side. “Warm.”

“Hey hey,” you pat his hip, trying to pull him forward as you take a step forward. “Don't fall asleep again. Come on, move with me.” He does, tail sliding back and forth through the snow behind your huddled forms.

The progress is slow and arduous, each step a struggle as you practically drag him forward through the snow. The falling snow obscures your vision, but you spot a faint path ahead, partially covered by fresh snowfall. The wide trail left by his tail serves as a guide, leading you deeper into the wintry landscape.

"Come on, almost there," you urge, your voice strained. The weight of his body feels overwhelming, causing your bones to protest with each movement. The biting cold sears your face and ears, and the wetness on your pants becomes a painful reminder of the freezing temperatures. You can only imagine the suffering the man at your side endures. His fur coat, now soaked through, adds to his misery, and you feel his trembling against your side. How long has he been out here, exposed to the elements?

Throughout the entire journey, the Naga’s delirious muttering continues against your neck. His words are incoherent, mixed with occasional hisses and the repeated mention of warmth. You even feel the wet brush of his forked tongue against your skin at one point. He clings to you, one arm draped across your back, fingers digging into your far hip.

“There we go,” you gasp, the strain evident in your heaving chest as you continue pulling him forward. The physical exertion keeps you warm, though having sweat-soaked clothes in the midst of the storm is far from ideal. As you near the base of The Spine, the path grows more treacherous. The rugged terrain, with its sharp rocks and hidden crevices beneath the thick snow, demands careful navigation. Each step becomes a deliberate effort, further slowing your progress.

The winds howl fiercely, swirling the snow around you in a blinding flurry. It’s difficult to keep your bearings, but you know you can’t afford to stop. The cave must be near, offering the possibility of respite from the harsh elements. You cling to that thought, pushing through the exhaustion and pain.

After what feels like an eternity, you catch sight of a dark opening nestled among the rocks. It's the cave you've been searching for. Relief floods through you, pushing you forward with renewed determination. With every ounce of energy you can muster, you guide the Naga towards the entrance. It's camouflaged amidst the snow-covered rocks, barely noticeable. The opening is a narrow crack in the cliff side, just wide enough for you to squeeze through.

You pull him in behind you, tugging at his arm. He manages to squeeze himself inside, and the moment he fully enters the warm cavern, he succumbs to unconsciousness.

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #Naga!Levi #tw; hybrids #levi/reader #fem!reader #mermay

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little-luna-llama · 5 months

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When are we ever ready?

Custard (at least in my mind) is such a pitch perfect mix of pure vanilla and shadow milk, and a parallel to both of them.

It's analysis timeeee

Contains: my analysis of canon custard iii, a quick parallel between him and Dark Choco cookie, A quick analysis of what I think made shadow milk turn into a beast and why and finally the actual parallel between custard, Shadow and Vanilla. (Being ready to handle something)

Custard is a kind vanillian cookie kid with a persona that's basically his entire personality(being king). He speaks in a way that could be read as bratty, but comes off as performative and a little silly goofy.

He's trying to step into shoes that are wayyy to big for him right now that comes with decisions he's not ready to make or knowledge he's not ready to know. His fortune cookie says "Watch, listen, play! Your memories will shine brighter than a royal crown."

It's literally saying stop trying to grow up and enjoy the now. Because let's be real: growing up sucks when it actually happens. Custard is yet to realise that because he's a kid still looking at adulthood through rose coloured glasses like any kid would.

In a sense this also makes him a parallel to dark choco cookie, who from what we've seen had a very hopeful and positive outlook when he was younger, trying to do what is best for the kingdom but seeming to lack understanding in some of the details, which deepens the rift with his father and fuels his need to prove himself. Which as we know didn't end well...

Custard I don't think is in it to prove himself as a leader. If you've read the bluebell fics I've actually stated that I see the kingly persona as a sort of trauma response. He misses his dad and we don't know what happened to him, and most likely custard doesn't know either. Custard is very young, arguably the youngest of the cast behind snapdragon who's a literal baby, I say about 7/8 years old and loosing your parents at that age definitely doesn't help you develop healthy states of mind or coping mechanisms because there's no supervision.

Custard knows he's of noble vanillian lineage, he heard stories of pure vanilla, this beloved King who was loved by all that grandpa was close to, he was powerful and navigated life's struggles with such ease and gentleness. A kid hears that and thinks "wow he had a lot of friends because he was King! If I'm King then everyone will want to be my friend and I won't be lonely anymore! And I can make the rules!" It's a very young mindset. It also puts him above the others so if they leave him, he can get the last word in and they aren't leaving him, he's banished them. He's in charge, he doesn't want to be friends with them and they should feel sorry about it.

I don't think it's intentionally toxic or anything, it's just the mind of a kid rationalising something to protect themselves from the trauma they've experienced. It's really common for childhood trauma to manifest a coping mechanism like this; finding a source of inspiration and power to project onto, to call on for emotional support. In certain cases it with even go as far as to manifest as d.i.d, but that's not relevant to custard. This also happens in adults as well.

This links to Shadow milk however: shadow has one of the starkest transformations in theme from ancient to beast from what we've seen. Eternal hardly changed, mystic seems to have simply hidden themselves behind a veil, burning spice hardly changed, and it seems silent salt simply put on their helmet.

Shadow milk however was clearly a scholar/Wizard archetype. Fits with his virtue being knowledge, much like how eternal hardly changing fits with their sloth, burning spices silhouette getting bigger fits with the overwhelming power of destruction, mystic hiding themselves away behind their veil to appear unfeeling/apathetic and like a god to their followers (its a literal separation) and silent hiding their face entirely so not even their expressions could communicate their feelings.

So why is did shadow go from a prim and proper scholar to a jester? I think it's all to do with knowledge.

All the beasts had to experience some great trauma, that one moment that solidified their descent into darkness(I have theories for all of them.) Something that, to them, justifies their actions (or lack thereof). Shadow Milks power is that of knowledge, and knowledge doesn't discriminate between the good and evil. Shadow would most likely be hyper aware of everything, to the point of near omniscience before creating dark moon magic. He would see the world and his friends suffering and want to stop it all, and he finds a way:

Using mind magic and trickery. It starts innocent but it builds and builds and it becomes addictive, then it becomes second nature.

Innocently making someone forget the horrors they've experienced, or filling someone's mind with fake positive memories to turn them away from committing atrocities. Perhaps he does it to his friends: maybe he sees them falling and every time he fills their heads with sweet lies to buy them a few more months.

He's overloaded by taking on everyone's troubles while he was still coming to grips with his power, he has no one to turn to because of his spiderweb of lies. He's alone and he doesn't know how to cope. Just like custard

And just like custard he adopts a front: instead of feeling remorse or trying to reverse what he's done and accept that he made a mistake he just leans into it harder, forging a new identity to pick up the pieces and figure something out, unchained by the lies of his past because he is the director the playwright, the producer, he gets to make the decisions and nobody can question him.

(Obviously the first thing he would do would be to lift the lies from his friends and have them fall too.)

Vanilla also sort of does this with healer cookie, but he has amnesia at that point in the story. Healer cookie is more like the truest reflection of pure vanilla cookie, unburdened by the horrors of his life. I bet shadow milk watched healer cookie and seethed inside. For Custard though, I think it was something he had to see even if it hasn't paid off yet. He got to know pure vanilla completely outside of his idealised version without bias because he didn't know.

In the crumbs of content we do have both from in game and twitter we have seen Custards attitude change a little. He's mellowed out a little in the dark cacao episodes and by the time stories by the campfire rolls around he's much more an excited child who happens to like his prince costume and playing prince than a 7 year omd trying to actually be in a position of power with no help or guidance.

Since pure vanilla and shadow are supposed to be opposites I think custard is actually supposed to help convey what makes them the same and what makes them different. They share the acting performative parts of their character with shadow milk, but with vani we see custard genuinely trying to impress him because he wants to be like the vanilla he heard about in his bedtime stories. However custard currently runs the risk of stumbling into something that he's not ready for, which is something I think vani and shadow share. Vanilla wasn't ready to receive the light of truth and its responsibility, and shadow wasn't really ready to weild all of that knowledge alone.

This is also partly why I made the bluebell au. Shadow definitely smelt a kindred spirit but also "hey the kids connected to vani this will make good angst." And also In the fic I have custard adopting a few variations of his prince persona partly to make more people like him.

#cookie run kingdom #cookie run #custard cookie iii #shadow milk cookie #pure vanilla cookie #dark choco cookie #crk #dark choco crk #pure vanilla crk #shadow milk crk #custard cookie iii crk #custards clown era

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llamagoddessofficial · 2 years

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happy birthday (or thereabouts), llama!! congrats on another slingshot through the solar system, may your most thematically appropriate of birthday timeframes bless you with many skeletons to come ♡∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

thought I'd be sneaky and do a lil birthday present sketch based off whatever your answer might be to that last ask of mine, but then you went and dropped an au so spooky-excellent that I just had to go a bit ham in your honor. eldritch au my beloved.......

(too many appendages,,, strange, shifting sizes,,,,,,, '''humanoid''' with great liberties........ mimicking clothes and familiar human things like 'bones' but via strange and curling and slow-writhing tentacles/tendrils............ one terrifying Being offering a moment's dangerous maybe-respite from the mind-flaying curiousity of another........... the interminable focus of the kind of hunter for whom time is of no consequence..... what is safety but relative?? godspeed in the many arms of your eldritch soulmates >:)c )

shh.

The voice sounded inside your head, clear as a bell, gentle but deliberate. It was smiling, but in a way that felt like someone that had never seen a real smile before. A large hand settled against the small of your back.

quietly, now. we don’t want to cause a scene, do we?

You stared, terrified, up into the ‘face’ looming over you. It was twisted and inhuman, decorated with intently curious eyes, made of winding bones that shared far too many characteristics of flesh. But despite everything, despite your mind’s frantic screaming to pull away from the creature before you and attempt to find another hiding place...

... It was the closest thing you’d seen to another human being since you became separated from your friends.

You let him draw you closer, trying to focus on its two largest eyesockets. Something about a bipedal body somewhat close to your own in height was deeply, instinctively comforting. It definitely knew that. Something about shoulders, hands... eyes and teeth sat in those measured spaces across a face... something about seeing a face.

You couldn’t help it. You pulled in a frightened breath as his arms wrapped around you and obscured you from view, he was just a little too warm.

Anything was better than the massive, desperate thing that had relentlessly chased you for what felt like hours.

i know, i know. the voice cooed, though not a word had left your clammy lips. You felt the edges of his ‘clothing’ tracing over you, just as alive as the rest of him. but it’s alright. just stay close, he can’t smell you while you’re with me.

W-what is that? was your first thought. One of the first clear thoughts you’d had in what felt like days.

... if you think i’m frightening, dear, your saviour mused, i dread to think what would happen if you let the big guy get his hands on you.

The giant, ancient presence that had chased you started to drew near, you felt the immense pressure in the air and the horrible prickling across your body. A sound like distant wind... or distant screams? You couldn’t tell. But just as soon as it came closer, it shifted, perhaps believing you weren’t in the area anymore.

... It moved on again. Finally. You let yourself breathe, still frantic with fear and adrenaline.

...

... You looked up at your ‘saviour’. You must be going insane, because you were missing the presence of the blue-eyed creature. There was something deeply disturbing about how this one sparingly resembled a person- the blue-eyed monster hadn’t attempted such illusion. It had let itself be otherworldly in a clean, amorphous manner. Rather than ugly raw flesh and bone, he had been slick and tar-like, gentle and smooth in his words and movements.

“... strange, isn’t it?” the red beast purred, this time aloud, facial ‘expressions’ discordant with his words as his claws traced your back. Everything about him felt like it was curling around you, entrapping you for making the mistake of trusting a humanoid body. “you want so badly for me to look like a person. you see something you recognise, and you come crawling in. but... when that something isn’t quite right... you’re more afraid than ever. it’s so cute.”

“W-what do you want?” Your voice quivered.

“you wound me.” His eyelights flickered, he spoke warmly. Too warmly. “you think we all want to eat you. i can’t speak for the big guy, it’s hard to tell what he wants anymore. but come on now... use that pretty little head of yours. what do you think i want?”

You shook your head, tears building in your eyes. “I don’t know. I-I don’t know.”

“tiny creatures, humans. so full of fear.” A claw came up, smoothing over your hair. “we have souls too, darling. big ones.”

#llamagines #EHHEUGHUEHG #HOPE YOU DONT MIND I WENT OFF THE RAILS A LITTLE #ITS A GOOD ART

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eruden-writes · 7 days

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Where the Dark Stands Still by A.B. Poranek

This is the book that had me sobbing in bed a few nights ago. I found this book in the bin store, caught by the absolutely gorgeous cover art.

I didn't realize it was a young adult novel until I started reading, but I should've known. Young adult novels seem to have the most appealing cover art to me.

Where the Dark Stands Still is heavily inspired by Polish folklore while also having the feel of Howl's Moving Castle and Beauty and the Beast. It's really quite splendid.

The story follows Liska Radost - apparently a 17-year-old, but it was vague throughout the book - who is a girl with magic who happens to live in a Polish village entangled in Christian ideology. Meaning magic is seen as a sin. Liska does her best to hide her powers, but her magic does trigger and cause problems, at times.

In an effort to get rid of her magic, Liska takes to the nearby spirit woods, the Driada, during Kupala night. There, she hopes to find a legendary flower that will grant her a wish. Instead, she finds the Lesky, a powerful "demon" that offers her a bargain.

She is to stay and manage his manor for one year. At the end of that time, he will relieve her of her magic.

Throughout her stay, it's hard to trust the Lesky. He's enigmatic and sometimes refuses to answer Liska's questions, mostly pertaining to his past. It made Liska and Lesky's relationship a tense one, where the reader gets the vibe that he is using her for something sinister.

Over her stay at the manor, Liska also encounters different spirits and demons. Some of which become beloved friends or aid her in finding answers to her questions. Others of which try to kill her.

The romance with the Lesky definitely builds, which I appreciate. It's almost always fraught with a "what if" sensation, since Liska knows the Lesky could be using her. I don't appreciate that it builds over the course of four months, however. I wish it had been a longer timeline.

Interestingly, the book is written in present tense, which doesn't detract from the enjoyment. It was a unique facet I wanted to mention. The descriptions are very lovely and are not overly drawn out.

What others might care about:

Arrogant and distant male lead. There's reasons why he acts this way, but it's definitely a trope in YA. But he's bi, since we learn about one of his prior lovers, so marginally more palatable.

Big ole age gap. Yep, the Lesky is 700+ years old, although he doesn't look (nor act, in my opinion) much older than Liska. I'm willing to overlook this, since the Lesky is bound to/cursed by an ancient god.

Explicit violence and gore. The whole book is beautifully written and I honestly appreciated the detailed descriptions of violence and wounds. It really fit the vibe of the story.

Animal death. The Lesky's former lover had a dog that died terribly. His spirit is still wandering, depicting the dog in its mangled state.

Vague sex scenes befitting a young adult novel. I won't begrudge a young adult novel for having vague intimacy. However, coupled with the big ole age gap, other readers may not like this.

Overall, this is a solid 5 out of 5 for me. Some parts aren't to my taste, but not enough to detract from the story. Everything works phenomenally well together.

[SPOILER BELOW, DO NOT READ FURTHER IF YOU DON'T WANT SPOILED]

In an effort to disengage himself with the old god who wants to take over his body and cause havoc, the Lesky ends up killing himself. Just before he dies, he ends up transferring his powers and guardianship of the Driada to Liska without her consent. This scene was so very heartbreaking and the following scenes, when Liska wakes up and processes what happened, is also heartbreaking.

I was a sobbing mess. I'm a little misty-eyed just typing this up.

While this was extremely well done, I'm also conflicted. The long-lived male lead finally finding love having to sacrifice themselves for the greater good, while leaving their lover reeling in emotional agony, losing something so special that they fought so hard for? I feel like this is an oddly specific trope that's prevalent in stories like this.

Thankfully, because the Driada is a spirit wood, there's a dangling ending that may be sweeter for Liska and the Leszy.

#book recommendation #young adult #ya fantasy #demon #magic user #polish folklore

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thehillsofattica · 9 months

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You, who is loved by god

Prologue to a series of interconnected events.

Set in Ancient Greece.

Rating: 16+ (Brief description of blood and gore)

Character/s: Sika Madu

Pairing/s: Sika Madu x reader

Tag: @eluxcastar

A hundred years of undeath turns into two hundred, two turns to three, and three turns to four.

You once thought his affections for you were a joke, an inside joke meant to tease you by people who once treasured you because you were favoured. All you really wanted was to survive in this unfamiliar world you once read in a story, and so with little choice, you stuck with the strongest.

You too once thought it would be alright, that you would be brushed off as insignificant and unchosen and left to die by the hands of time like you desired— something natural. Something that was normal.

And yet, here you stand.

Four hundred years and alive and young and well but not quite a living corpse like the rest of who he deemed worthy to be chosen.

No longer a slave, and your memories of your original world being nothing more than distant lifetimes away, you were a princess now, wife to a prince, and wife to a monster that’s somewhat of a friend. You hate him and cannot hate him at the same time because you know the truth behind all the atrocities committed by his hand; you do not condone them, and yet you cannot condemn him.

“My beloved wife.” Sika warmly addresses you as you move to sit across from him for dinner. He doesn’t really quite need to eat— blood is what he needs, not human sustenance like the luxurious meal laid in front of you, something you need and one of the few things that tethered you to humanity aside from your beating heart and warm body.

“Hello, beloved.” You barely get the last word out through gritted teeth. It was a rather strange term to refer to him despite the outward nature of your relationship. Three centuries of being bound to him and multiple weddings for every lifetime you had to endure coming back to him, and still, you couldn’t really see him that way. Marriage was a strange affair no matter the time period, and in these times, even more so.

He seems to be relatively pleased with your response as he gestures to the food, he too eats from his own plate. He’s not too interested in knowing what went on with your day as you spent it idly. It’s his fault for having given you nothing to do other than the pile of scrolls and books, ink and quill, and a loom you didn’t quite use as much as the books. You eat the food and find that it’s been cooked how you liked it back when you were a servant and made meals yourself. Was this perhaps his way of a peace offering for not giving you enough activities to stall your boredom?

Neither of you really speak, aside from a question and an answer here and there, as you dine to your heart’s content. You look up at as you place food inside of your mouth and find him absentmindedly touching his throat, and you sigh.

“I’ll have Lyra purchase you a boy.” You tell him. You’re not bothered by the thought of buying slaves now, and in a distant thought, you think that back then, when you were younger, it would have disgusted you. Especially for this purpose, as if you were buying a bag of milk to feed to your husband rather than perhaps a child, barely an adult, to be drained of blood. Briefly, you wondered if you’d be the same way as him if you had accepted his offer to “godhood” back then, no longer being able to enjoy the simpler things and looking at people he’s speaking to as beasts and food rather than beings with their thoughts and feelings.

Sika Madu’s offer of “godhood” meant damnation more than a blessing to you. You shudder, and the thought gradually disappears from your head after dinner.

Like you promised, you had one of your handmaidens— Lyra, purchase your husband a boy. No one in your villa questioned your husband’s odd choices or what he does with the people he’s ordered them to obtain. No one’s bothered to bring up what they had to dispose of either, and once again, you are reminded that the morals of your time and your world do not apply to this one.

You feel bad for the child, you really do, but you don’t do anything about it as he’s washed and presented to your husband. He smiles at the child, greets him warmly and gently gestures for the new boy to come closer, pale fangs peeking from delicate pink lips and golden eyes crinkling at the edges.

It’s twisted, you think as the boy approaches him, unaware of what will come next as Sika looks at you, then down at the boy in his arms— you look away the moment he opens his mouth, and once more, you hear the gurgle, the wet sound of someone choking on their own blood and a child’s strangled, shrill scream.

No one outside of your villa, or even in the hallways, seems to hear it.

And that night too, Sika Madu proclaims his love for you in a wet, bloody kiss. The unpleasant scent and taste of iron only serves to remind you of your differences.

#Owari no Seraph x reader #seraph of the end #ONS x reader #Shikama Doji x reader #Sika Madu x reader #seraph of the end x reader #SOTE x reader

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pansyfilia · 2 months

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welcome to my blog!!

COMMS ARE NOW... OPEN!

you can call me pansy or rina (she/her)

fandom list

greek mythology/epic the musical (save me penelope save me)

the marauders

dungeon meshi my beloveds

tma (currently on s2 so NO SPOILERS

i have like one thg post so yk... it was for an au who am i kidding

ON A NOTE!!!! PLEASE DO TALK TO ME, MESSAGE ME, @ ME IF YOU WANT. WE DON'T NEED TO BE MOOTS TO INTERACT OR ANYTHING

my ao3 is @green_starss, where i have a few odypen fics brewing

and ive got a bit of an organising system which is pretty ridiculous soooo

"the little white maggot tag" is just generally rosier twins/ pandora/ evan, whatever really

"the wild hyena at the door tag" is all things barty crouch jr, gay twink and mcr enjoyer

"the scarlet fox tag" is the woman, the MILF, the legend lily evans (she ate btw)

"the magician's rabbit tag" is mary macdonald <333333

"my weaver wife" is PENELOPE OF SPARTA yes i do know she is ody's wife and i would never dream of taking her from him (im stealing her from him respectfully as we speak)

"the green mamba that bites" is dorcas meadowes (we love a mean queen)

"the black cat that haunts" is regulus black, wet dog man and also brother's best friend survivor

"the lovegood moths tag" is essentially the lovegood family, pandora, xeno and luna

"the island and his freshwater pearl" is just odypen, pretty much the only straight pairing on here

" the two rabid beasts" is bartylily (essentially emo/preppy at core)

"the rotting hyena tag" is rosekiller (tee hee)

"the bunny corpse" is my marydora stuff

"pansy's aus" is what it says on the can

"ask pansy anything" basic comprehension skills yall

"pansy rambles" essentially the same vein, see above, etc

I think???? i have an au list somewhere in here so ill put it on here as well

odyssey thg au, where ody and polites go into a war-torn arena and only one returns home (alr a wip)

odyssey modern au, where ody is enlisted in the war and needs to get OUT. dio actually pops in and checks in on him from time to time and calypso is just a super weird flight attendant

odyssey lotr au, following the whole arawen/odypen parallels that have me gripped atm (and also penelopes half divine side as well because the POTENTIAL aghh) jsyk legolas and gimli are perimedes and elpenor :))))))

idk why but like odyssey roleswap au, where eury and ody stay at home while their wives are away on pilgrimage or wtv the equiv is in ancient greece and circe and calypso r just super hot evil minor gods. OMG WAIT tiresias is the same but its his cursed-by-hera woman form (long story, will explain in a later post)

iliad/odyssey college au where theyre all just here and there and also everyone who dies either gets sent away or yk runs away from the shitty ass ilium university (helen is the art major queen and calypso stalks ody which we love/hate)

THE ILIAD/ODYSSEY RENAISSANCE COURT AU which isnt realy plot,,, its just fluff and fake dating and secret dating and also lady thetis who hates her sons prince consort patroclus and theres rlly just a lot of love and drama

[self-indulgent one comin in hot] single parent ody with calypso's kids nausithous and nausinous who has penelope as his kids' babysitter (not canon timeline-complicit bc who needs that shitfaced angst blast)

and ofc a hogwarts au just for funzies

just tag me on either ao3 or on here if u use these!

anyways,,, have fun! pls enjoy my half-asleep crazes

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digitalgate02 · 6 months

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Here's my pitch for a Digimon Frontier telenovela with a love triangle with the Archangels.

This is a rough draft summarizing my idea. Enjoy~

So you know when some romantic telenovela starts with childhood friends and then they get apart around their teens and later they meet as full adults by fate? WELL…

Imagine that the Archangels were childhood friends, but weren’t like siblings or something. Poyomon, Kokomon and YukimiBotamon were born in this respective order. Fun fact: Cherubimon is the oldest twin from his family (he got a Terrier-twin too, why not), while Seraphimon and Ophanimon got no siblings.

They were together, raised by a couple of angelic-like digimon and were good friends. Kokomon was raised by a Gargoylemon. Poyomon was raised by a Darcmon and YukimiBotamon by an ArkhaiAngemon. Together the trio evolved into Chocomon-Tokomon-Nyaromon and then to Lopmon-Patamon-Plotmon.

Despite being the youngest, Plotmon was the most serious and mature one, while Lopmon and Patamon were the carefree duo. Yet, none of them could live without seeing each other, and playing together. Patamon and Lopmon had some affinity way stronger than they had with any other digimon, besides Plotmon. You could say… Patamon had a silly crush on Lopmon before he even learned WHAT crushes meant.

But they got separated around their Adult level phase, because…

Patamon evolved into Angemon while Lopmon and Plotmon into Turuiemon and Tailmon. Tailmon had a holy ring, and Angemon is an angel digimon. Poor Turuiemon didn’t understand why he wasn’t a holy-type digimon, and Angemon felt also left out because he’s an humanoid type while his other two friends are beast type digimon. Tailmon vowed that this wouldn’t change for them all, no matter how they look or which digimon type they are. The three were supportive of each other! They’re best friends after all!!

Turuiemon believed if they were still friends, this wouldn’t change anything between them, right? Besides… he was starting to have a crush on Tailmon. Oh-uh… But Humanoid digimon and Beast digimon had a huge clash, so yeah, Angemon was forced to go to the humanoid digimon community while Turuiemon and Tailmon had sent to the beast digimon domains.

After a long time and being trained separately… The trio of friends evolved again: Turuiemon into Andiramon (Deva), Tailmon into Angewomon, and Angemon into HolyAngemon. Well, that’s a good thing now, all of them are Holy type digimon!! Except Andiramon is still a beast type. And now Tailmon is a humanoid angel digimon!! Oh no… This means Angewomon and Andiramon wouldn’t stay together anymore!! He wouldn’t be allowed to live with the only friend he got left! Angewomon reassured him she would still be friends with him, no matter what type of digimon he is or will be.

Angewomon met with HolyAngemon after she was forced to move to the humanoid digimon domains. They had such a good time together, a very good time… Enough to make her fall in love with him. But you could notice that HolyAngemon wasn’t into her at all and only saw her as his beloved childhood friend.

Around the ancient Digital World wars, they witnessed the rise and fall of Lucemon’s empire and thus the Holy digimon -- beasts and angels -- decided to train the trio to protect the Digital World from more and more tyrants and to keep their world in peace. So, once they became the most known Cherubimon (Virtue), Seraphimon and Ophanimon…

They were reunited.

Cherubimon could sense those two Archangel digimon were his childhood friends, but… something changed in them? Seraphimon was more stoic and Ophanimon even more serious than she used to be. But he also had changed… at least a little: He had become a more wise digimon, though as some sort of smart-aleck type. After all, he was the Wisdom, while Seraphimon the Justice, and Ophanimon the Love of the post-Lucemon period of the Digital World. Cherubimon was still the awkward kid, so he was still trying to get in touch with those two, though their duties were keeping them all BUSY and even more BUSIER as the time passed.

They were not living in the same place anymore. Each of them had a castle, and they would meet from time to time to report their actions to a greater being via Seraphimon (who was the one closer to their God, after all). Seraphimon was too different from the trollish and punny Patamon Cherubimon knew, and this started to get on Cherubimon’s nerves. However, Ophanimon kept her sweet side, the very mom friend tendencies, and kept trying to mediate between the boys. Oh yeah, she was indeed the embodiment of God’s love.

Many of the discussions between the three would result in Cherubimon believing those two didn’t understand him, or the beast digimon type. Humanoid digimon cannot get it, right?? Because they’re not beast digimon (sadly, Cherubimon’s paranoia made him completely forget his two beloved friends were once beast-like digimon before) therefore they can’t understand the needs for his kind.

It can’t be helped that one day he witnessed Seraphimon and Ophanimon talking about something and Lucemon, via supernatural ways, drove him even more paranoid to the point he got corrupted and vanished. Cherubimon, now in Vice form, was plotting against the humanoid digimon, and having Lucemon insert awful ideas of overthrowing the other two archangels and then make the best digimon rule over the humanoid digimon.

But what Seraphimon and Ophanimon were discussing? Well,

Seraphimon admitted he was in love with Cherubimon since a loooooooooooooooong time ago.

That’s it. Ophanimon was getting rejected. Even before she could confess her feelings for Seraphimon. And there they were also discussing how they could help the beast digimon too, because they deeply cared about Cherubimon and the beast type.

But Cherubimon was already in the deep end, corrupted and manipulated by Lucemon. He attacked Seraphimon’s castle with an army of beast digimon, and then murdered Seraphimon.

Or not.

He couldn’t get to kill his best friends, so he just cursed Seraphimon into an eternal slumber. And captured Ophanimon. But Ophanimon deep down knew the truth, and knew none of them wanted to hurt each other, so she sent A TON OF EMAILS for the human world, recruiting children in order to gather the DigiSpirits they hid, before Cherubimon could find them.

Cherubimon used his corrupted power to select a few beast digimon to become the Evil Warriors in the meantime. They were instructed to find and collect the DigiSpirits held by Seraphimon and Ophanimon, but Ophanimon pretty much knew where those were hidden, and once those five chosen children appeared…

But Cherubimon wasn’t a big human race hater. He found a fallen kid being sent to the Digital World in some sort of specter and realized the child was full of darkness and doubts inside his heart. Cherubimon then bestowed this kid the DigiSpirits of Darkness, because none of the beast digimon selected were able to hold that power. It was a very risky plan, though… It succeeded, right?

Thus Digimon Frontier begins!!

#digimon frontier #yes this is a shitpost

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fafnirhumgy · 6 months

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a loud hum fills the air, heralding the presence of an ancient force unbeknownst to this land. unconscious bodies lay strewn across the melting ground, red static encroaching upon them yet not completely consuming them. its hesitation is mirrored by the beast it flows from, a huge dire wolf with many sword-tipped hands, all in empty embrace. though cloaked by the static of the other world, its eyes glow bright yellow. train tracks wench its mouth open, revealing the body that had replaced its tongue, a replica of a beloved man.

one still stands to face the beast, the one whose heart had made it. those who are still conscious but still weak call to him, but their cries go unanswered. in his hands, gripped as tightly as a throat, was a gun that would shoot no bullet. sheer noise crashes and riots as its stock is forced towards the falsehood in the beast's mouth. suddenly, the replica knows desperation. it holds out its arms, hands open to welcome the man's embrace. "please, my love, what are you doing? you should be pointing that weapon at the monster that swallowed me! save me, please. i love you. then we can forget about all of this, and leave. somewhere nice and quiet, somewhere peaceful."

the man's face softens, his aim lowering to the ground. his grip loosens on the gun, almost letting go. with a smile, the fake continues to hold its open embrace. "come into my arms. everything will be alright."

silence. fear overtakes those who can still muster strength. some even close their eyes in acceptance, or look away in cold frustration that they could not act, as the man opens his mouth.

"the monster said something before. i am him, and he is me. at first, i wanted to disagree. how could i hurt my friends like he did? push them away like a hysteric madman? but the more i walked around this place, it got harder to ignore. all my anger, my loneliness, my desire for everything to just go back to how it was before. and then, there's you, and i..."

he pauses to regain his thoughts.

"more than anything, i wanted just the two of us, together, with nothing to break us apart again. it was always for the sake of that dream. even if it was only shadows of our past, i wanted to cling to what was left and never let go. even if it meant everyone else would be hurt by it. but of course, it's more complicated than that."

pace. pace. pace. his grip tightens anew, and without forcing he trains the gun's sights on the fake's head. the creature's hairs stand on end, whispering "no, no, no" like a broken record. its voice breaks down, lost to the noise, but the man continues to speak with tears in his eyes.

"it's strange. before, even after we left that place, i just wanted to keep all the good times. but now, i find myself clinging to the now, with all the good and bad. and pretend all i might, my love isn't perfect. sometimes-" he closes his eyes and mirthlessly chuckles at memories both distant and near "-he can give me a run for my money in stubbornness. neither of us were perfect, and i'll admit. sometimes, we learn things about the other i wish i never got to see."

his finger tugs at the trigger. the fake discards all pretense, its fingers elongating into claws, its mouth widening into an abyss of static and noise and unknowing, eyes erased and leaving behind naught but shadows. but it flinches still. the man's eyes now glow yellow. and just above his head, a blue card idly rotates on its point.

"but there is one thing i know for sure."

for the first time since he entered this world, the man's face contorted into a snarl at the thing bearing his beloved's face.

"Chase would never want to kill his friends. And neither do I."

His finger depresses on the gun's trigger. The sound of gunfire rings from its glowing blue barrel, followed by shattering glass as it opens a hole of azure light through the static of the fake. It slithers out of the wolf beast's mouth, leaping away as if possessed while wailing in pain. Taking his place beside the beast, the man now drops the gun. The card, now floating in front of his face, is taken in his hands and torn in two with the self-same crack and lights. And for the first time, perhaps since his childhood, two aspects spoke as one.

"So give him back."

#echo vn #persona #crossover idea #leo alvarez #the embrace #fanfic writing #kind of #late night post #sorry if its ooc #had to get it out my head #feels nice out of my head though #imagining the VAs for leo and chase from lcb-meyneth's thingy reading this #aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

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parksrway · 1 year

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Ahh yeah I’ve had the same thoughts. The sages keep running away from me mid fight :/ and seeing the divine beasts just not there and no acknowledgement of them or the champions was jarring. I get why but I wish there’d been some reference to the sheikah gear like slowly disappearing or breaking over time cause it wasn’t needed anymore or something. But on a brighter note there are some really cool new things like the skydiving islands and armors (link and that frostbite set is fantastic)!

OH YEAH THE CHAMPIONS WAS ANOTHER THING!! like I don't remember revali being even mentioned. granted I could have just missed it, but it still makes me so sad that they were also just shoved off to the side with little to no acknowledgement :[ those were link and zelda's friends

and yeah, I wouldn't really have as big of a problem with the ancient sheikah tech being gone if there was at least some sort of explanation for it because like. where did it even go?? the divine beasts are massive, there's no way they just. melted them all down or something. for the sages I just wish that you didn't have to run up to them individually to use their gifts. like they could still be there and help you fight, but I wish you could instead activate them with a button like how it was in botw

of course there are still a lot of things I like about the game too!! all the new outfits, new places to explore like caves and the depths, being able to build a bunch of dumb shit for fun, more enemy variety, THE YIGA MY BELOVED

#asks #totk spoilers

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desultory-novice · 1 year

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...What time is it...? It's time to slowly clear out Dess's massively over-stuffed inbox with another LIGHTNING ROUND!

> both does and doesn't survive

Oooh, that choice of words!! /pos

> a refusal to stop just because the story says its finished

And ahhhh, this too!! /pos

...Okay, wow, I need to draw more Beast Pack now... (Sorry, I wish I had a more intelligent response than that but I daresay you already laid claim to the most brilliant words!)

Hello hello! As a fan of the show Firefly back in the day, I APPROVE OF GALACTIC WILD WESTS!

But no, this is really smart! Most of the people who come to Popstar could be easily categorized as shipwrecked or refugees of some kind. People from the "greater" more modernized galaxy winding up on a backwoods-y planet. (And I think it's been described that way in certain works. Or implied?)

Depending upon how you take the Floralia situation, Popstar could be a bit like Australia or some other small island callously "claimed" by the British Empire. Outside of a few places like Butter Building (and even that is a maybe) most of its locales seem to be places that are still standing from ancient history. Not a lot has been done with it from this generation of Popstarians. It's frontier-land.

Also, Max as a robber-baron is a A+++ idea! This all reminds me of how in my expanded Dreamy Gear concept, I made the HWC one of those shady AF age of expansion railway companies! It just feels very in tune with the way the HWC was doing things! (Under the table and independent of any galactic authority, to be certain!)

As far as that particular puffed up depiction of Dedede goes, I can see it too, tbh! ...Nyeh. XD

Pardon my YGO Abridged reference.

I have to admit, I haven't read every novel in-depth, but Takase-sensei is getting a lot closer to my own views of Kirby + Kirby-verse here. I feel like the Planet Robobot novel might be the last one of hers where I really appreciated the specific take she took with things!

(Btw, I wonder if we'll get a third novel this year? I still don't think a Mago Epilogue novel is coming just because no Meta Knight XD but I'm curious what other story she might cook up now...!)

I think it's a great thing to think about! Just like HAL and Kumazaki love to dump lore in the most obscure places, I think we're meant to think about these things! Enjoy going in depth on them!

Now, I think I lean towards a more emotionally balanced Taranza, even while seeing him as someone in mourning. I've of course laughed at the various crying/distraught reactions people have given him (which are all really funny!) but I also think that maybe he'd be someone to take it more as what it is - a tribute?

(At least, I don't think Magolor means it negatively. I'm not 100% on that, because he DOES like to play tricks on people. But I also have a personal HC that he learned about Halcandra and the Lor/Master Crown during time he spent with the spiders so I don't think he'd do that to Taranza to be mean. Maybe Magolor never reached the stage of being "friends" with Taranza and Sectonia, friendless wizard that he is, but I think he liked them, potentially?)

So, I think Taranza would be touched by the mask (he MIGHT cry though) and the way it is labeled. It's subtle. It doesn't flaunt the fact that Taranza never got his feelings across to his beloved. Nor does it disrespectfully rewrite history as if he had.

I think Susie is also able to have a fairly calm (?) or at least highly restrained reaction to seeing her father's visage. But again, I like the concept that she might mock-threaten to sue Magolor too!

If Magolor DIDN'T get contracted by Susie to make that Weekend Outfit Susie mask and instead made it himself based on observations of her in his trip through the timelines, now THAT would get him in some serious hot water for sure! (But she probably would compliment him on how she looks appropriately cute in it.)

...Daroach would have something quippy to say, I would feel. Probably something a li~ttle prickly about how it's funny he doesn't see a mask depicting MAGOLOR's time under the possession of an evil artifact!

Magolor: "......"

I suppose Marx's reactions to a mask of his soul form depend entirely on where you place Marx on the "more intelligent than he looks" slider. If he's just a silly little guy, then Magolor just made a palette swap mask of him and that's funny!

If he's actually very, very SMART then he would say the same thing as before - on the surface. And then he and Magolor would have a very serious talk about things. In private.

(I, of course, love a Marx who is exceptionally magically inclined. Possibly more attuned to magic than a non-Master Crown empowered Magolor. And he might be able to recognize just from a glance what exactly is "going on" in the Marx Soul mask - certainly from the invocation of "Soul" in the name. Namely, that Magolor saw something HE SHOULDN'T.)

Coo: "...Why am I gray??"

And I agree that Kirby would love the different colored Kirbys and probably made all the Dream Team try them on!

PS: I would love to write/draw/read/see more depictions of the others enjoying Merry Magoland! It's such untapped ground!

I did, in fact, post my treatment for my best attempt at coming up with an entry-evel Kirby movie with plenty of easter eggs back in this post! I'm not... 100% satisfied with it, as it's so heavily and clearly an ADAPTATION smooshing several plots into one.

But I did what I could with the idea of trying to cram as many games and major characters into three movies as possible while sticking with Kirby = Friendship as a major theme.

To be honest, I'm more in love with the plot concept I teased for the "second movie," that combines Squeak Squad and Triple Deluxe and RtDL together and pits Kirby and the gang against the Squeaks against Magolor and Taranza against Sectonia against Traitor Magolor in a wacky mystery of mistaken motives!

I think the "thief vs thief" and "royalty vs wannabe royalty" aspects make the characters from that game mesh together a little better than trying to speedrun the Dark Matter Saga + Marx in one movie.

But lets answer some of the rest of this, shall we? ...If you go back enough years, I would have liked to see a Kirby movie done entirely in 2D, but even the old anime series recognized it was easier to keep Kirby on model if he were 3D. So nowadays, it would have to be 3D.

I don't expect it would go for a particular visual style, ala Spiderverse or Puss in Boots. I really think it would look like your average Disney/Pixar/Illumination "clean" CG movie....

But it would be fun if they tried for a more impactful style! Something heavily cell-shaded, perhaps? I love the aesthetics of Epic Yarn and Rainbow Curse, so while a movie might not be the place to get super experimental, I wouldn't mind them trying!

Mario has proven that you don't need to massively twist the characters into the Hollywood "cartoon" model to be successful so I think Kirby could lean more toward a "faithful" depiction.

That said, while -I- personally would do everything possible to work in as many references as possible if I were put in charge, the sad truth is, I never would be, and so I expect a Kirby movie would be a little vanilla in its plot. A "Kirby vs King Dedede only oops, Dark Matter/Nightmare is really behind things!" story?

I wouldn't necessarily expect to see the Animal Friends or Adeleine or Gooey in it. Maybe Marx, given he's popular. (But I don't expect a massively nuanced take on him. ^^; )

...I'd go see it though, either way!

Oho!

This is a pretty interesting concept because Elfilin is not really anything resembling a combatant. Then again, Adeleine isn't much of one either...

Because Adeleine takes a lot from the Artist copy ability (and the same can be said for other Dream Friends who call back to certain movesets) I think I would continue along that path and base Elfilin at least partly on the ESP copy ability.

Elfilin would have a few unique attack moves, based on the use of their tail, probably. Little excited, flicky movements! As well as moves based around their ability to make portals/rifts!

They might be able to use weaker versions of Fecto Elfilis's moves including a softer version of Elfilis' Antares spear? (Probably made of light or a phantasmal version, rather than just a miniaturized version of it XD ) And of course, every X number of times you use the move that summons objects from a dimensional rift, a miniature Big Rig falls out and rams into something! XD

...Anon...

How you tempt me...

Our setting is a dimly-lit smoky bar. A woman with thick hair covering one of her ruby eyes and with warm, earthy skin leans in, her gold jewelry flashing, her dress sinking past her feet.

“The others call me...'clingy.' Said I don’t know how to let go.”

Her partner, an older gentleman with plenty of blond left in his slicked back hair and a surprisingly attractive squint shuts his pocket watch and smiles a cat-like smile at her.

“Misty, you know my only purpose in life is to grant your wish.”

May you all be damned with that visual as I have been!

If I don't say this enough, I have received so much support from this fandom and I'm just so very grateful to all of you.

I hope all of you are receiving the love and care you deserve as well for being such creative, kind, patient, understanding people...!

#Kirby #Elfilin #Galactic Nova x Mistilteinn #...and a bunch of others I'm too tired to tag ^^;#Dess daydreams about being hired to adapt Kirby again #...It's fine. I'm sure doing it officially comes with a bunch of red tape and rules. I'm happy just drawing my HC and such #But every now and then... I start to imagine 'what if...?'#Dess Answers Questions

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cookierunauprompts · 8 months

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yo, it’s the thing I promised I’d write! I enjoyed what you wrote for golden butter, so here’s arcane egg suffering. (Note I copied this from the original post I wrote it on hope theirs no spelling errors) have a good day!

If you’ve lurked on my blog you’ve seen I’ve created my very own ancient “beast” cookie, who I’ve dubbed as arcane egg. You’ll also know although unspecific that they have very poor mental health at the moment, this little drabble / explanation will explore one of if not her darkest moment. That being said…

Warnings: suicide ideation, general dark thoughts, and almost committing suicide / letting yourself get killed (if you don’t want to read such things skip to the end to the tldr, take care of yourself)

Now this takes place during the dark flour, at this time arcane egg has taken on the persona of a cookie mage named “lemon curd” cookie. They were probably fighting within or close to the hollyberry kingdom, a large group of dark cake monsters had just began attacking and it was chaos. Lemon curd was doing the best they could to minimize the damages and loss of life, they were so focused in fact they didn’t see the magical blast heading their way.

It was a blinding cold that they felt first, like one of the times a frost potion blew up in their face. Second thing they felt was being launched threw the air by the force, and than thirdly skidding across the harsh ground… It was so cold, they were so cold. They could see their chilled breath and couldn’t feel their limbs to well.

The only thing keeping them from thinking they instantly kicked it were the sounds of war and battle. They could see arks of magic and sparks traveling through the air, and the sound of metal against metal… the smell of jam was there as well. But… it all felt so far away.

As they layed there they could notice how tired they were, how their limbs ached and how their mind yearned for rest. Proper rest. The cold was making them so sleepy… so cozy… maybe it wouldn’t be so bad… if they just, fell asleep. It was enticing, to simply stop. To stop all of this… to never wake again.

…it scared them how inviting death was, how it felt so cozy, or how it felt like a credible option. As they pondered and almost slipped out of consciousness they saw a faint glint. It was the necklace they always carried with them…. The ones their friends gave them. 5 gems on a circular pendant, each one a different color corresponding to their beloved friends. Their

family.

What… what would they think of them now? They surely wouldn’t care, right? They were sealed away for becoming heartless beings, why would they care for them. But for a moment she did let themselves wonder… surely burning spice would say

“Hey! Don’t give up now! We got a fight to win”

Or maybe eternal sugar “ why now dearie this isn’t the time for a nap, you need to get up. I promise you some r and r afterwards. Alright?”

Or mystic flour “ cmon now, I see the path to victory. We’ll be blessed and live this day that I promise”

Or silent salt, no words exchanged but they would help you to your feet, keep you steady

… or how shadow milk cookie might lightly tease you “ hey now! No need to get all scrambled now is there ! I’d rather you do that to the enemy! I’d be funnier “He’s always make you smile…

You don’t know why or how you got the energy or willpower, but you get up. And help win the fight, quite viciously at that. After the battle you’re praised as a hero for saving so many lives … but you don’t feel like one. But you continue on anyways, like always.

After the fight dear lemon curd cookie continues to fight in the ear until it’s over, and they continue on not really taking the time to process her feelings. Or really addressing them at all no matter how unhealthy that is.

TLDR: arcane egg cookie who at the time was lemon curd cookie, got struck by a powerful ice blast during the dark flour war. After they were hit they seriously considered letting themselves die since life at that point was all too tiresome. It was only after seeing a necklace made by her friends, the five beasts. that for a reason they don’t know why got back up and finished the fight. Afterwards they never really thought about those feelings even though that dread and sadness continued to persist.

But they will be forced to face these feelings eventually, wether they want to or not… yeah they need therapy.

Anyways I hope you enjoyed!

Arcane egg... /pos

#not a prompt #this is so well written??? i really enjoyed it!!/pos

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