#this drawing emanates so much power

[prokopetz]

On the one hand, it's true that the way Dungeons & Dragons defines terms like "sorcerer" and "warlock" and "wizard" is really only relevant to Dungeons & Dragons and its associated media – indeed, how these terms are used isn't even consistent between editions of D&D! – and trying to apply them in other contexts is rarely productive.

On the other hand, it's not true that these sorts of fine-grained taxonomies of types of magic are strictly a D&D-ism and never occur elsewhere. That folks make this argument is typically a symptom of being unfamiliar with Dungeons & Dragons' source material. D&D's main inspirations are American literary sword and sorcery fantasy spanning roughly the 1930s through the early 1980s, and fine-grained taxonomies of magic users absolutely do appear in these sources; they just aren't anything like as consistent as the folks who try to cram everything into the sorcerer/warlock/wizard model would prefer.

For example, in Lyndon Hardy's "Five Magics" series, the five types of magical practitioners are:

Alchemists: Drawing forth the hidden virtues of common materials to craft magic potions; limited by the fact that the outcomes of their formulas are partially random.

Magicians: Crafting enchanted items through complex manufacturing procedures; limited by the fact that each step in the procedure must be performed perfectly with no margin for error.

Sorcerers: Speaking verbal formulas to basically hack other people's minds, permitting illusion-craft and mind control; limited by the fact that the exercise of their art eventually kills them.

Thaumaturges: Shaping matter by manipulating miniature models; limited by the need to draw on outside sources like fires or flywheels to make up the resulting kinetic energy deficit.

Wizards: Summoning and binding demons from other dimensions; limited by the fact that the binding ritual exposes them to mental domination by the summoned demon if their will is weak.

"Warlock", meanwhile, isn't a type of practitioner, but does appear as pejorative term for a wizard who's lost a contest of wills with one of their own summoned demons.

Conversely, Lawrence Watt-Evans' "Legends of Ethshar" series includes such types of magic-users as:

Sorcerers: Channelling power through metal talismans to produce fixed effects; in the time of the novels, talisman-craft is largely a lost art, and most sorcerers use found or inherited talismans.

Theurges: Summoning gods; the setting's gods have no interest in human worship, but are bound not to interfere in the mortal world unless summoned, and are thus amenable to cutting deals.

Warlocks: Wielding X-Men style psychokinesis by virtue of their attunement to the telepathic whispers emanating from the wreckage of a crashed alien starship. (They're the edgy ones!)

Witches: Producing improvisational effects mostly related to healing, telepathy, precognition, and minor telekinesis by drawing on their own internal energy.

Wizards: Drawing down the infinite power of Chaos and shaping it with complex rituals. Basically D&D wizards, albeit with a much greater propensity for exploding.

You'll note that both taxonomies include something called a "sorcerer", something called a "warlock", and something called a "wizard", but what those terms mean in their respective contexts agrees neither with the Dungeons & Dragons definitions, nor with each other.

(Admittedly, these examples are from the 1980s, and are thus not free of D&D's influence; I picked them because they both happened to use all three of the terms in question in ways that are at odds with how D&D uses them. You can find similar taxonomies of magic use in earlier works, but I would have had to use many more examples to offer multiple competing definitions of each of "sorcerer", "warlock" and "wizard", and this post is already long enough!)

So basically what I'm saying is giving people a hard time about using these terms "wrong" – particularly if your objection is that they're not using them in a way that's congruent with however D&D's flavour of the week uses them – makes you a dick, but simply having this sort of taxonomy has a rich history within the genre. Wizard phylogeny is a time-honoured tradition!

[miserableworm]

Aphrodisiac!

★ sypnosis - giving him an aphrodisiac wasn't your best idea...

★ tags - childe x fem!reader, alhaitham x fem!reader, wriothesley x fem!reader, smut (mdni), aphrodisiac, established relationship, oral receiving, mentions of overstimulation, handcuffs, rough sex

CHILDE

Despite being under the influence of an aphrodisiac that would normally drive him to pleasure himself, something about you made him want nothing more than to please you instead.

"God you drive me insane..."

Your legs were spread wide open before him, invitingly wet and ready for his touch. He could feel your heat radiating off your body as he gazed at your dripping pussy; it was almost too much for him to bear!

But instead of diving right in like any normal man might do under these circumstances, When held back... teasingly soaking up every drop of moisture with his tongue while watching you squirm beneath him helplessly.

"Stop teasing me.." you whined

His hot breath fanned across your sensitive skin - enough to make it tingle but not quite enough stimulation yet... His hands gripped tightly onto your thighs as if locking them down so that no one else could come between them during this intimate moment shared only by the two of you...

And then finally – after what felt like an eternity – those delicious lips parted once more and plunged deep into the heart-shaped depths below…

"You taste so fucking good.."

It didn't take long before you had your first orgasm. "Aw my pretty baby is already cumming?"

"Oh but we're not done yet... you can take it, right?" He purred huskily against wet flesh before diving back in again without waiting for an answer.

He's completely pussy drunk.

ALHAITHAM

As Alhaitham's normally stoic demeanor began to slip away under the influence of an aphrodisiac, he found himself unable to resist your advances. Your every touch sent shivers down his spine and ignited a fire within him that he couldn't control.

You were like a siren calling to him, drawing him closer with each passing moment. He could feel the heat emanating from your body as you pressed yourself against him – it was intoxicating!

"Need you so bad..."

Despite his initial hesitation, Alhaitham gave in to his desires and took you roughly against the wall behind you... His hands gripped tightly onto your hips while he thrust deep inside of you over and over again... His breathing became labored as sweat dripped down both of your bodies.

"w-wait.. slow down.. I can't.. ah!"

"One more," he panted between kisses along your neckline before plunging deeper still into the depths below... "I know you can take more.." With each word spoken by this usually reserved man came another thrust from his hips - faster now than ever before.

You and Alhaitham were fully aware that 'one more' is just a lie...

WRIOTHESLEY

Wriothesley was a man of few words, but when he spoke, it was with an air of command that left no room for argument. As the aphrodisiac took hold and his normally stoic demeanor began to slip away, so too did any semblance of restraint.

He grabbed you roughly by the wrists and pulled you closer - handcuffs clinking softly as they secured your hands behind your back. His lips crashed down onto yours in a fierce kiss that left no doubt as to who was in charge here tonight...

His hands roamed freely over every inch of exposed skin while his hips ground against yours – teasingly close yet never quite connecting fully until finally... With one powerful thrust forward, Wriothesley buried himself deep inside of you

"you feel me in you?" he pressed down onto the bulge on your stomach. "t-too much ngh.."

"isn't this what you wanted? no turning back now. You're mine tonight," Wriothesley growled into your ear as he roughly pulled you closer by the wrists. "And I'm going to make sure you remember it."

His rough hands gripped tightly onto your hips as he pounded into you without mercy or hesitation...

[signedkoko]

HEHEHHEE OPEN REQUESTS???

Hello koko! I was summoned by your open requests, and I just had an idea, how about headcanons/one shot for Alastor and Vox (separately) with a reader who has powers a bit like Toge Inumaki in JJK?( I saw that you were watching JJK so I assume you know how his powers works) like what do they think about it? how do they react when reader uses her powers? How they communicate with her?

THANKS FOR READING MY REQUEST DEAR KOKO! HAVE A GOOD DAY/NIGHT

-🐚

Alastor | Vox X Reader [Romantic]

In which your speech causes action, so you can't speak unless you wish to control others. Reader is female.

When you first came to the hotel, Alastor was not impressed

You were certainly a gorgeous sight, but it was ruined by the device in your hands that you had your nose buried in, screen lighting ruining your face

It took him quite a while when he heard strings of words emanating from the device to realize you were speaking through it, your fingers pressing on keys faster than he could follow

You introduced yourself to everyone that day, as a new hire for the hotel, and how you couldn't speak but hoped it wouldn't get in the way

He was certainly irked by the device in your hands, but it was funny to see someone so weak that they had to rely on a flimsy device made by an even flimsier overlord

Truly a shame

You learn the hard way not to get too close to him while using your device, or else it starts to act up and get damaged

Alastor still spoke to you; of course he did! Because he was amused knowing you couldn't retort

But eventually, without noticing, he would talk more and more, filling every aspect of the silence between you

You were the best listener, both since you had no choice and because you didn't give any shitty advice

The only thing that weirded him out was the weird clicking he started to hear around you

Something about it was so familiar

J-E-R-K-J-E-R-K-J-E-R

When he looked down at your hand and saw a clicker in your hand, he realized what you were doing

Of course he knew morse code by heart! He studied all sorts of things, but he wasn't sure why you'd do things that way when you had a much easier device

Unless you did it just for him?

R-K-J-E-R-K-J

" And who are we calling names, my voiceless companion? "

Y-O-U

Still, it's very touching to see you go from using your phone to putting it away when you come to him to talk

And not much changes since you can't get out too many words with your morse method

One evening, while on a walk together, Alastor was reciting to you how he'd come to work for Charlie and how she sang on the news for so many to see! When a group of assassins surrounded the two of you, angel steel weapons were on full display

Before Alastor handled them—which, let's be fair, would be no issue to him—you pulled quicker on the draw

" COMATOSE. "

You yelled it with your hands clamped over Alastors ears, and the instant the word came out, they all dropped, beyond unconcious

Alastor laughs, because wow, that was quite the display!

But he's already dragging you over them to continue talking, now teasing you for treating him like a helpless damsel

He was certainly glad that he hadn't made an enemy of you when he first saw you, because you may stand a chance against him with an ability like that

Most sinners had some kind of ability that grew with their power, often souls under contract or training enhancing them

Vox himself had plenty of tricks under his sleeves, and he'd seen the most pathetic of abilities to those worth cowering before

But he'd never heard of something like yours

Overlords loved showing off their resources, which could include people who became very useful in battle

You were a 'friend' of Zestial, though, while most jumped at the opportunity to introduce themselves to other overlords, you only waved

Of course you piqued his interest, because when he ran his servers over you, he found little to nothing beyond pictures

After several days of stalking video feeds, he caught you and Zestial together when—oh fuck! You sign!

While he could have just waited for the next opportunity, Vox was far too invested in your story and opted to pay Zestial a visit, if it meant he could see you

From what he could tell, you were using ASL, so once he bumped into you he began signing his typical introduction

Something about his heart sparked when he saw you smile, the way those curious eyes sparkled

He was immediately embarrassed when you revealed he didn't have to sign because you could hear

But he was all healed when you signed that you were very glad to have met someone else you could talk with

Vox is used to the overstimulation of noises from news, music, footage, all of it always beaming into his head so much that the silence around you is eerie and takes him awhile to get used to

Zestial certainly has an ace; one Vox is jealous of

Since you got along so well, you and Vox schedule meet-ups so you can interact, seeing as he and Zestial are almost exact opposites

The first time he witnesses your powers is when Alastor shows up at one of your meetings, and he was certainly trying to embarrass Vox in front of you

But Vox was your friend, and you had no tolerance for Alastors threats

" Silence. "

From your lips poured a thick fog, which whisped its way over Alastor's mouth, forming a seal that prevented him from speaking

The radio demon wasn't pleased, but he wasn't about to act up a scene right now, so he turned and left

Vox immediately fanboys because, oh my FUCKING GOD, you showed him!!!

Wait, you can talk? You sound like that?

YOUR POWERS DID THAT???

He is about to waste your evening asking all kinds of things, you probably can't sign as fast as he can ask, too

Author's Note - Conch anon gets only the BEST of the BEST!!! I did like writing these anyways though, because i adore Inumaki...thank you for requesting!

[ourrechte-blog]

Funny Take on Eldritch/Ancient

You've seen this, Danny is the Ancient of this or turns into Eldritch form for whatever reason. Now here's the humorous take

The Justice League were fighting a powerful foe, one that Flash knew as from the Infinite Realms, so he was already equipped to deal with them. Though this specific one was beyond what anything he had could handle. A blast of green energy suddenly erupted, causing the ghostly foe to growl in surprise and anger. Everyone turned to see a woman resembling Wonder Woman, her arms outstretched and wisps of steam wafting off her palms from the force of the blast she had unleashed.

"Who are you, interloper, to have powers like mine?" the ghostly foe snarled, its ragged form twisting with outrage at this unexpected interference.

"I'm one of you actually, though a bit stronger," the woman replied calmly, her voice carrying a weight of power that belied her human appearance.

"A human claiming to be from the Infinite Realms? Preposterous!" the ghost scoffed, its ethereal form rippling with disdain.

"What you see here is my saver mode, so I don't draw on too much power," the woman explained. A brilliant white ring suddenly manifested at her waist, dividing into two halves that spun in opposite directions. Her clothing shimmered and transformed into a sleek two-piece suit of black and white, while her raven hair turned a brilliant snow white and her eyes blazed with an otherworldly green glow. "This is my true state, Phantom, a Neverborn Ghost like you."

"Since you shared with me your name, I shall return the favor. I am Outcast Ebony," the ghostly foe declared, his ragged form twisting and rippling with ethereal energy as he narrowed his eyes, tensing in anticipation of whatever this so-called "Phantom" would do next.

Dani gathered more power, and her form began to shift and change. Where she had once appeared as a normal human, she now became stylized, her features taking on a sharper, more unsettling aspect. Her waist tapered inward into sharp points, rather than curving inwardly like a human's. Her legs, instead of tapering into rounded boots, ended in pointed tips, as did her elbows and knees. Her shoulders, elbows, and knees had become sharp angles rather than smooth curves. All in all, her appearance was unsettling to look at, even for the experienced members of the Justice League.

"This is what happens when a ghost ascends beyond what a ghost should be able to while fulfilling their purpose. My Eldritch Form," Dani explained, her voice carrying a weight of power that belied her otherworldly appearance. Outcast could sense the immense power of this Eldritch Form, but felt confident that as long as every threat was watched, he could match her in battle. It would be a close fight, no doubt, as Phantom's power was close to matching Outcast's own.

Dani took a deep breath, her form crackling with green lightning bolts. "And this… is… to go… even further beyond!" she cried, letting out a piercing scream that sent visible green sound waves rippling outward, striking Outcast who hastily erected a barrier to shield himself from this never-before-seen ghost ability.

Flash, his voice tinged with concern, called out, "Dani, no! We need you to conserve as much as you can!"

Despite not being directly hit, every member of the Justice League could feel the raw power behind Phantom's supercharged Canary Cry as she continued to scream, the sound waves rippling outward with devastating force.

Then, the scream changed, no longer emanating from her mouth but from her entire body. The very air began to ripple and crack, and fissures opened in the ground, followed by cracks in reality itself. Everything flickered, briefly showing a green sky filled with floating doors as Phantom maintained her earth-shattering scream.

Flash, feeling drained by the powerful display, pleaded, "Dani, stop!"

"Flash, explain, now!" Batman demanded, his voice cutting through the chaos.

Reality shifted again, the green sky and floating doors reappearing as everything from this strange dimensional rift was drawn into Phantom, and Earth's reality reasserted itself.

"That's Dani. She's the Speed Force, and that green stuff? Her home dimension. Or rather, our multiverse's version of it. And right now? I'm useless. She's taking all the Speed Force energy back into her," Flash explained, his voice heavy with fatigue and awe at the incredible power Dani had unleashed.

The sky was replaced by green and doors once again as Phantom's screams became exhausted and hoarse, but she maintained her rhythm, her face contorting with effort. Turning her head skyward, she allowed the green realm to feed into her one last time. Everyone had to cover their eyes as a blinding light engulfed the area. When the light faded, Phantom had changed again, her figure now returned to a more normal appearance. But this was no mere ghost or ascended form - this was the Speed Force itself, the primordial energy that granted super-speed abilities.

Dani's body had become a living embodiment of the phrase "darkest before dawn." The black parts of her form were pure shadow, blocking all manner of light, while the white parts encompassed the breaking dawn, a radiant glow emanating from her very being. She was Dawn, the Ancient of Light.

With a simple flick of her wrist, Dani reenergized Flash, the Speed Force returning to its rightful vessel. "Sorry about the wait," she said, her voice reverberating with ancient power.

Outcast felt a sense of trepidation wash over him at the sight of an ancient being of such immense power standing before him. He knew this battle had taken an unexpected and dangerous turn.

[rationaliity]

ratio the dissemination | the learned

ratio being the aeon of dissemination. much, much less a romantic plot and much more of an infodump. someone, anyone, i beg of you, please ask me to elaborate on this further

the dissemination was a path open to all who would be willing to listen and learn, and yet only a handful of pathstriders are worthy enough to follow the footsteps of the dissemination directly as emanators. they were an enigmatic being at best, and a silent being at worst, but that did not make them inherently unkind. one would liken their way - his way - of ruling over the path the way rain falls. methodical, constant, ultimately ever present whether one chooses to have an umbrella on hand or not. although their gifts were constant, and their knowledge abundant, they were not known to have any emanators by their side, or at least, not a noteworthy one.

believing fairness above all, ratio the dissemination has forgone giving a single mortal being the ability to draw power from their path. or perhaps, they were just selective to who they gave this blessed curse with, and had not found one that matched their desires to cultivate and spread information around the cosmos. one would have to be intelligent, or at least possess and innate willingness to learn where they lack, and yet hold a deep desire to help humanity. such is not an easy feat by any stretch of the imagination.

geniuses in general were prone to hording their knowledge than to spread it out evenly. as such, the geniuses within nous the erudition's genius society far outweighed the minds of ratio the dissemination's ' the learned ' in sheer numbers alone. but just an uneven scale was not enough to engulf the dissemination's path as a whole. the minds following the dissemination were good, kind people, who often chose to help others learn the right answers to their problems. these beings were intelligent and held humility, something that many within the genius society did not.

several times, the cosmos chose to compare the dissemination to the erudition. after all, they both pertained to knowledge, how could they truly be so different ? but the different stemmed from the recognition of genius from both paths. ratio would cast their gaze to anyone who was willing to learn and to spread their wisdom, whereas nous only looked at those willing to study, to test, and ultimately, to horde.

the difference even lay within the aeon itself. nous was a supercomputer, only able to make calculated predictions within the variables that it knew. having a horde of knowledge meant that their understanding of the cosmos at large was at stake. if they did not know, they could not predict. they could not think. ratio, on the other hand, took on a more animal-like appearance. the body of a large, twisting marble snake, with the large expanse of six owl wings, three on each side. they did not need to horde knowledge, they were able to spread their wings upon anyone who dared to ask " why ? "

at least, this was the appearance that people commonly associated with the dissemination. you, a faithful pathstrider of the dissemination, one of the learned, however, knew of a different appearance.

you had finished giving a particularly harsh lecture one day, your heart wary but your mind racing with ideas. your mind never stopped, it always continued forward, unending. you would ponder everything, and your introspection lead you to the same conclusion every single time you thought about it : there were no downsides to helping further humanity. and so you taught, vehemently, with your everything. lecture after lecture, book after book, you never gave up on your mission.

this day, however, you were tired. wariness had caught up to you, and you were slumped over in your desk, your head in your hands as you tried to focus on grading your student's tests. you really couldn't stop racing towards this goal, and yet your mind unable to reach any fulfilling answers. was this all for nothing ? how likely was it that you could teach everyone ? surely your kindness would be exploited, surely the ipc would get their hands on the dissemination's learned, as they did the erudition's intelligentsia guild ?

was the path of the dissemination even worth following, if all it did was lead you down a never ending spiral ?

" raise your head, " a man's voice jolted you out of your thoughts. you jolted up, surprised, looking up at him with creased eyebrows. your office door was locked. how did he get in ? " you will be fine. "

the man had wavy iridescent purple hair, that almost looked like it could be blue, too, if the light hit it right, and sharp red-gold eyes, taking in your every reaction. his clothes were just a simple blue and white robe over a black vest and blue slacks, and he had a muscular build, towering over you as you sat down. and in his hair, the laurel, a symbol of the dissemination. those who followed the path often wore it, or something similar, to distinguish between their few numbers. was he a member of the learned as well ?

" i- " you started, finding yourself at a loss for words for a moment. " have no idea what you are talking about, my apologies. how- how did you get in ? are you looking for me ? " " looking for you ? yes, i suppose so, " he replied, ignoring your other question, perhaps on purpose. and perhaps it was best that you didn't know, you thought. " please, call me dr. ratio. " " doct- huh ? " confused, you stammered a little bit, unsure what he was getting at. but he didn't take the time to answer any of the questions you may had, his mouth working faster than your brain.

" i would like to teach you, personally, " dr. ratio explained, not being a man of many words, crossing his arms as he looked at you with a discerning eye, his gaze seemingly tearing you apart, revealing your intricacies and stitching you back up together again. " if you will willing to be under my tutelage, of course. "

the dissemination did not have any emanators so far, and he did not have a human appearance, as far as the records went. but you knew. you knew the truth. you knew a different being than ratio the dissemination.

you knew doctor veritas ratio, the scholar with a temper. and you learned under his wings.

[hazarambling]

Ok that Stonehearts trailer is making me think more about the IPC and I need to yap

The thing that struck me the most while i was watching it was this sequence of events where the resources bleeding out from the colonized planets was the thing that healed the cornerstone, but then opal says that "we will follow the preservation to the end"

this violent colonization (look at boothill's planet) inherently goes against everything the preservation stands for, so why are the stonehearts even able to call themselves followers of the preservation, much less draw power from it like the cornerstones themselves?

it could be linked to the IPC voracity theory but i dont like that theory so i won't go too in depth on it. it makes sense, but it's a bit boring tbh.

instead, let's get bogged down in semantics and interpretations of what 'preservation' can be seen as

because i think that's more interesting and can explain why the ipc follows the preservation and why qlipoth is fine with the ipc using their power.

the word preservation means "maintaining something in it's original state", "retaining a state of affairs", "maintaining a quality of something", "keeping something safe from harm or injury" and those are just 4 contexts where the meaning of the world is a bit different.

as we know, people can follow a path but not agree with all of it's ideals (lan was born to destroy the abundance, yet galaxy rangers, who don't care about the hunt-abundance feud, exist and can draw power from the path of the hunt). and since we know there are so many interpretations of the WORD preservation, it makes me wonder if the stonehearts do care about 'preservation', but fix it to suit their own need.

i think the clearest example of these extraordinary interpretations of preservation come with obsidian.

(notice how the stones of the more scheming, bloodthirsty stonehearts are right next to diamond (opal and obsidian), while amber (who "prefers to remain neutral") and topaz (who is seen as the least controversial) are much further away?)

obsidian's interpretation of preservation

aside from being another gorgeous dangerous lady voiced by the wonderful Erin Yvette (yay!!), obisidan is clearly a bit loopy. BUT, she draws power from the preservation (she has a cornerstone, and is a high rank in the ipc, p46, only being under diamond, a confirmed emanator, at p47.) so how does she interpret "preservation" to exist as such a contradictory state to the safety that qlipoth wants to provide?

i think her form of preservation is the preservation of the selfish part of humanity and the preservation of human indulgence.

firstly, we can see from her luxurious home, with everything enlaid with obsidian and covered in blood, shows the materialistic and violent side of obsidian's selfishness. she's here when making a decision about aventurine's fate, and her only comment about it is that SHE would "like everything to become more of a bloodbath". she doesn't care about him individually, she just cares about manipulating the status quo to suit herself - which she can easily achieve in the selfish and greedy ipc.

obsidian, as a stoneheart, being a famous person within the ipc, and an important ipc representative in the cosmos, can also serve as a personification for the cruellest parts of the ipc - the colonization, the violence. its important to recognize that obsidian is pretty, but that's just meant to MAKE us like her, so we ignore the wrongdoings of the ipc.

this wish of her's to maintain the status quo and only manipulate it when it suits her also links her to opal, who seems eager to rush off and get more power from diamond in the upcoming war among the aeons. opal seems to be selfish and manipulative too. i imagine they're quite the devilish pair when they want something.

i also think obsidian has something to do with life, considering the pomegranates (which represent life) we see next to her bath of blood, and also that obsidian blades were used in the distant past, and that obsidian is formed by volcanos (something destructive that also keeps life in check. the aftermath of volcanic eruptions is death, but also fertile lands).

considering these links to life (pomegranates), death (her love for bloodbaths and watching prey suffer), and pleasure (her extravagant home and preference to indulge in her violent hobbies), it seems that her view of preservation is one that encourages the preservation of the self indulgent, selfish side of humanity.

i think her having so many links to life, death and pleasure can also link to the ipc's motto "all for the amber lord" - everything, life, death and pleasure are all the domain of qlipoth and can be manipulated as much as anyone likes, as long as it suits the ipc and therefore qlipoth.

her viewpoint is that things should remain as they are, and that humanity should remain selfish and self-indulgent (which obsidian relates to, she has her obsidian bath of blood and her wine in her goblet, she wants to relish in the thrill of the hunt of her prey).

(of course, i'm going off of 2 pieces of symbolism, but stick with me. i wonder if any of this will turn out to be right? also HOORAY ERIN YVETTE VOICING SOMEONE IN HSR!!!)

[ironunderstands]

Here’s my comparison of Acheron, Aventurine and Ratio that I made in 2.1 which I forgot to upload here lol, I would like you to know my thoughts then because OH BOY HAS THIS AGED WELL

Aventurine, Acheron, Ratio and what the Nihility means to them

(Inspired by a convo I had with @aoxizu on Tumblr!)

The ending scene of the 2.1 update (the one featuring the black hole) is perhaps one of my favorite in all of fiction. I genuinely adore the way it was done and what it says about both the characters and life itself. This game has THEMES and by god did they come through then. So, I want to go over why I love it so much, and why it’s such a vital moment for Acheron, Aventurine and Ratios characters.

First, some context. Prior to Aventurine’s and Acheron’s conversation, Aventurine was taking the riskiest gamble of his life. Prior to the confrontation between him, Acheron and the Astral Express, Aventurine set up a plan to try and get to the secret at the heart of Penacony, as well as provide a ruse for Topaz and Jade to do, well whatever they planned on doing, the ending scene says they came there to “harvest”, so in 2.2 I assume we will find out what exactly that entails.

In order for this plan to work, Aventurine needed his cornerstone and to trick Sunday, so pre-2.0 he went to Dr. Ratio to include him in this plan, and set up a fake betrayal to fool Sunday and allow him to keep the Aventurine stone, with the Jade and Topaz stones also being acquired pre-Penacony. We know this because of Aventurine’s conversation with Topaz post 1.4 Belabog mission in which he requests her help in Penacony, something which we didn’t get confirmation on whether or not she accepted until 2.1, in which it’s revealed that one of the Cornerstones in the box is Topaz, meaning when they got confiscated in 2.0 she had already accepted his offer (we can assume a similar situation for Jade). 

Essentially, everything had been going according to plan for IPC (even if Aventurine was absolutely not having a fun time during it), Ratio even says as much, stating that the IPC is pleased to hear of his death sentence, so that part of the confrontation was already predetermined. This leaves Aventurine with one final gamble, hoping the Astral Express and Acheron take the bait, and that they will try and stop him from destroying the entire dreamscape, which if Acheron acts on it, he could entire the true dreamscape to find the truth, as only an emanator could break through the power of the harmony. 

Luckily for Aventurine, the gamble pays off and Aventurine does indeed draw her blade, both stopping him and sending them both into another plane entirely, it’s there in which one if my favorite scenes in fiction ever occurs. 

You see, even if Aventurine planned this all from the start, he hasn’t exactly been having a fun time while doing it. Being sentenced to death and then slowly hallucinating on Harmony sh1t until the manifestations of your past self and your present doubt and insecurities come to haunt you isn’t exactly fun for anyone, especially Aventurine. 1) Because his backstory is horrifically tragic and being faced with a reminder that you will never feel secure or valued or truly happy would be enough to erode away the psyche of anyone 2) A version of himself which claims to be his future, but is more like a personification of how much Aventurine doubts and hates himself. It’s even more telling that this isn’t the first time he has talked to this version of him, in fact it saved his life several times, meaning one of Aventurine’s driving motivations is his own self loathing. 

A trait that on the surface you don’t think he would have, Aventurine plays the role of the confident, unflappable gambler who always wins, when in reality his other hand is under the table, clutching his chips for dear life (something I quite literally paraphrased from the game). 

Therefore, going into this conversation, Aventurine is more relieved than anything, yet another one of his gambles paid off, but now he will have to see how to go from there, and that’s when Acheron’s advice comes in. She’s not stupid, and immediately recognizes that he won (or at least got what she wanted), and that killing him is meaningless, it’s not his time yet. However, what Aventurine is really focused on is the fact that out of all the emanators he could have come across, the one he faces now is an emanator of nihility.

And well, in the face of overwhelming nihility, one’s own value comes into question yet again, and that’s something Aventurine doesn’t even need the aeon for to ask. So, he talks to Acheron, as IX isn’t exactly going to answer, but she might know. Now, I’m just going to lay out the dialogue (then explain it obviously) because it’s genuinely amazing. 

Aventurine starts out by asking Acheron if she is an emanator of nihility, and I find her response to be really interesting. She doesn’t view herself as someone chosen by IX, as nihilism (the feeling of meaningless) envelops everyone equally, but she has simply walked in their shadow longer, tainted on the feeling. This leads Aventurine to question if this is the end, as if life has lost all meaning, in the face of overwhelming nihility, would that mean he’s dead?

Luckily Acheron immediately disagrees, stating that this is merely a manifestation of IX, not the end (he’s not dead guys idk how anyone can think that). However Aventurine still questions if his death has been determined, but Acheron doesn’t promise it. She mulls over his plan and and Aventurine asks her why she thinks he did it, and Acheron believes it was to find a secret deeper than the dream “deaths: the Real Penacony. He wonders how she found out, and Acheron says it’s the trailblazer’s identity which allowed her (and Aventurine) to come to this conclusion (we don’t yet know how this happened for either of them yet, but 2.2 should give answers).

They continue, Aventurine reveals that he believes the barrier the family built using the power of the harmony was not just to keep death out but the nightmare that is the real dreamscape. That the Memory Zone is simply a vast island built atop a violent ocean with the barrier keeping whatever nightmarish secrets from washing ashore. In order to break through this barrier and find the real dreamscape, which is why he kept killing himself earlier in the dream, but to no  avail. When Sparkle gave him the hint, he realized it was referring to Firefly, someone who had seen the other side and survived it, even if she was unable to let others know if it. It wasn’t proof of the families wrongdoing, but it was suspicious enough for him to try and get Acheron to kill him, rather than try and find the Meme to recreate Firefly’s death. 

Acheron points out just how insane this plan was, that if he hadn’t gotten lucky and crossed path with her, it wouldn’t have succeeded. Then, she commends him for playing it perfectly, pitting her perfectly against him and creating a plan that would be beneficial for the IPC no matter what happened, as even if he dies that would be great leverage. However, Aventurine disagrees with that last point, he truly can’t guarantee the IPCs success or even his own survival, that if she hadn’t drawn her blade it would have all be pointless. 

She’s doesn’t let him continue along this line of thought, what-ifs are pointless and he earned his ticket to the dreamscape. What matters now is what happens next, and Acheron asks him if he can return from the abyss (Childe reference?), but more importantly, she questioned if he has ever wavered, as even a gamble as seemingly insane as the one Aventurine just did seems to have not shaken him (from her POV, we know how terrified Aven was but everyone else minus maybe Ratio does). 

Aventurine tells her perhaps the most fundamental aspect of his character; he gambles simply because he has no other choice, betting on everything because he has nothing else to lose. Acheron tells him to wake up from this “dream” (aka find the true dreamscape), and she presumably goes to leave.

However (and this is my favorite part of the scene), he asks her one more question before she leaves, thinking she might know the answer as a pathstrider of nihility, “Why are we born in this world if it’s just to die?”

Her response is the best possible way you could answer this question. Acheron is an emanator of nihility, but she doesn’t think life is meaningless. The feeling of emptiness and pointlessness envelops everyone equally and that’s exactly why the nihility is pointless. It doesn’t matter that nothing matters, and we aren’t born into this world just to die. 

Aventurine still worries though, after all if the dice of fate will always roll to the same conclusion, then destiny is predetermined, so why struggle? Why does it matter?

Her answer again is not one he would expect, but one that absolutely makes sense. Acheron says the answer has been with Aventurine throughout his entire life and journey on Penacony, and that he’s already somewhat realized it. Aventurine said himself that sleep is a rehearsal of death, but people aren’t ready to welcome death, which is why they sleep to get a taste of it. Sleep is much like death, a realm of unreality in which anything might be possible within the dreams that define its existence. Death itself is an unreality, and nobody truly knows what it’s like to die, but dreams are the closest we might ever get before the end. Like Acheron says, in a way, dreams are just a preparation for death, a practice before it can be welcomed. 

However, much like how dreams can contain anything, even if we cannot choose to experience them or not, life itself is full of choices, regardless of if the ending is determined or not. Acheron understands that there are an infinite amount of things people cannot change before the end, but there are choices you can make up until it. Death is inevitable, but the life you live before it isn’t. This is what the words in red mean, both here and in my opinion, in general. 

Acheron reminds the trailblazer to make the right choice when time comes for it, in our first meeting with her. However, I don’t think the path we choose matters, but rather the the fact that we chose at all. Now the next paragraph will include a minor discussion of 2.2 leaks, so skip to the next slide if you don’t want to hear it. 

Sunday is getting a bossfight in 2.2, and it’s highly theorized that he works/believes in Ena the Order, especially because it looks like it’s their hand he’s touching in that one animation of the bossfight. Now here’s the thing, Order as a concept Chooses For You. I think the trailblazer making a decision is the thing that will save them and the rest of the gang, as within the face of an entity defined by limiting choice and free will, choosing to well, choose will save them (us?) and perhaps be the thing that gets the trailblazer acknowledged by the Harmony, a concept greater than Order. 

Anyways, after she says that, Acheron leaves Aventurine, saying the answer to his question was from his friend.

And Aventurine pulls out the vial from Dr. Ratio

The vial telling him that the only impossible thing in the dreamscape is dormancy (meaning the secrets from before are destined to rise and destroy the “island” that is Penacony.

The vial telling him to stay alive and wishing him the best of luck, which in the Chinese version is: 

Ratio answered both of Aventurine’s questions. The physical one, the one that pertains to Aventurines goals in Penacony, informing him of a vital aspect of the dreamscape that will help him win his gamble. But more importantly, he also answered Aventurine’s emotional one. What is the point of living? There is no real deeper meaning but to stay alive, survive and keep on living, because at the end of the day, that’s the only choice Aventurine can make, and that’s the one Ratio wants him to make.

Ratio Gives Aventurine A Reason To Live. 

Aventurine says that he has nothing left, his family is gone and he has nobody and nothing to fall back on which is why he gambles. But Acheron proves him wrong, he isn’t alone, she calls Ratio his “friend”, says that he’s the solution to his doubt. Someone caring about Aventurine is what saves his life, he walks into the massive black hole unafraid not because he holds some secret power or technique or trick, but because someone cares about him, and that someone taught him that caring about himself is enough. Aventurine didn’t need the power of an emanator to survive the true dreamscape, he only needed a friend, and the will to keep going that he realized from them. 

This is the true meaning of nihility, not that  Aventurine says that he has nothing left, his family is gone and he has nobody and nothing to fall back on which is why he gambles. But Acheron proves him wrong, he isn’t alone, she calls Ratio his “friend”, says that he’s the solution to his doubt. Someone caring about Aventurine is what saves his life, he walks into the massive black hole unafraid not because he holds some secret power or technique or trick, but because someone cares about him, and that someone taught him that caring about himself is enough. Aventurine didn’t need the power of an emanator to survive the true dreamscape, he only needed a friend, and the will to keep going that he realized from them. the universe is meaningless, but that regardless of if it has one or not, it doesn’t matter. It’s this realization that saves Acheron from losing herself like other emanators, it’s this realization that allows Aventurine to cross the event horizon of that manifestation of IX, and it’s this realization that I believe is why Dr. Ratio was never acknowledged by Nous: he was already treading the path of nihility without even realizing it. 

Now this is where my conversation with @aoxizu comes in, and I’m just gonna paste directly what they said because I think it’s amazing and everyone should read it, more importantly it’s what inspired this slideshow in the first place.

Ratio tells Aventurine to live despite everything because that’s the only thing he can do. It doesn’t matter how absurd life is, or how meaningless it all seems, choose to live anyways, because all you have are choices, and it doesn’t matter if they lead to some grand outcome or future or whatnot. To Ratio, life doesn’t, and shouldn’t care about that. Existence doesn’t need to make sense to be worth it, and that’s a sentiment both me, the characters and the og poster share.

Acheron is a lot like Ratio, she chooses to live despite having discovered the meaninglessness of the universe. In an existence seemingly black and white she chooses to paint the world red with her choices, accepting its reality and choosing to forge her own path rather than succumb to the madness. That’s why she says in her trailer, “there is no other choice but to move forward” and that’s because there really is no other choice, the universe doesn’t have some grand plan for anyone and you can’t turn back time to change anything, so all you can do is move forward.

My contribution! I’ve already kinda started but I do want to talk about how Ratio could be treading the path of nihility, but I’ll let this amazing post finish.

So yeah, amazing post, and I don’t think I could reword what they said in a better way than they did. Bringing up the philosophical aspects of this scene makes me really happy because they are so prominent, but most people aren’t really aware enough to notice. Absurdism is one of the driving inspirations behind the dreamscape, and it’s nice to see someone else besides you (see: my slideshow about Penacony and its American influences for an elaboration on this) bring it up. Honestly I think that philosophy fits Ratio far better than any of the Ancient Greek stuff you try to slap on him. Sure he obviously has the inspirations, but he’s closer in spirit to philosophers from the 1700s to now than them, a reinterpretation of Greek scholars rather than a copy of them. 

And this is where my idea that Ratio is a pathstrider of nihility (and he doesn’t even know it yet) comes in. He doesn’t view knowledge in the same way that pathstriders of Erudition do; knowledge for knowledges sake has never been something Ratio has cared about. Knowledge means something to Ratio because it allows people to better themselves, not because it has some sort of inherent value. That’s why he’s so determined to spread it, he wants everyone to reach their fullest potential, and dedicates his life to doing so. Regardless of if the universe has meaning or not, that doesn’t mean people can’t try and live their best lives, and that’s the philosophy Ratio truly believes in.

Moreover, this is why it’s so meaningful that Ratio is the one to help Aventurine, he’s teaching him something Ratio himself learned long ago when he got rejected by the Genius Society. Despite all of Ratio’s intellect and qualifications, he will never be good enough for them because he simply doesn’t view knowledge in the way they do. But instead of this meaninglessness (nihility) consuming him, Ratio dedicated his life to doing what brought him meaning and validation rather than searching for some hidden answers from the universe (specifically Nous).

And it’s not like he just accepted it happily. Ratio still wants their acknowledgement, and it still hurt (and hurts) him a lot to not have it, which is why I think he unknowingly strides the path of nihility. To Ratio, his view on knowledge is simply how knowledge is, and the fact that Nous will never perceive it in that way because his philosophy is more nihilistic than it is erudite is something Ratio might never come to terms with. But that’s ok. The point is that it’s ok, Ratio doesn’t need to be acknowledged or to understand the truth of the universe to be happy or do well for himself. Our universe might mean nothing and yeah that can and will suck, but existence is more valuable than some grand cosmic plan, and even if you don’t realize it, choosing to live is enough.

Continually, this reminds me of the conversation Aventurine had with his hallucination self, in which he told real Aventurine that him and Ratio are very similar. In a way, they are, both struggling to find meaning in their lives, and Ratio helps Aventurine find meaning in his without really even knowing how. Sure the note was meant to keep Aventurine going, but Ratio caused Aventurine to come to a conclusion that probably won’t find Ratio for a while. He helped Aventurine overcome nihility without even knowing it, without Ratio even realizing that THAT is the thing he has been struggling with, and the path he has been walking the whole time.

I really hope we get to see Ratio again, and at the very least I want a story quest for him because I want to analyze his brain under a microscope. Him and Acheron need to meet asap I want more Ratio content idc if everyone else in the fandom hates him I love him and he’s my pookie bear and I will write 3039493494 things about him when it comes to me UGHHHH. Anyways I didn’t know how end this so this is the ending yaaayyy! I hope you liked it and if you have any thoughts let me know! 

_________________________________________

Og post over! That was a long ass read and past me was absolutely cooking up a storm, oh god did this age well and I was right about or close to right about a lot of shit haha. Anyways I really do hope you enjoyed reading this, and this will hopefully provide some needed context for my next posts on this subject. Also feel free to repost this onto other sites I’m very proud of it

[feroluce]

So I spoke somewhat about my thoughts on Emanator Sampo here, but I never really thought of it from a design point of view or what kind of powers he would have until just recently. But I actually kind of love leaning into it from a "stage hand" perspective?

Because like. Aha's body in THEIR official art is completely black, giving attention to all the fun brightly colored things around THEM. And that's so fitting for Sampo! He usually prefers to be a side character. He likes to act from the shadows. His is a much more subtle hand.

So I wonder if as an Emanator, a lot of his clothes are actually very dark? Not necessarily plain, still extravagant and needlessly detailed in things like cut and quality with lots of different fabrics and textures and ornamentation, but dark. Or maybe even his skin itself becomes blackened further down his body; his hands in particular are dark, as a sort of sleight of hand reference.

The motif of a lot of straps wrapped around him like in his canon design is still present, but they're all loose and flowing off of him like paper streamers now instead of restraining him or holding him together. He is no longer contained! Or maybe they're still a bit more rigid/heavy, but just draped more like red stage curtains!

And this is like. Fully self-indulgent, but I love inhuman designs, and there's nothing in canon to say I can't do this, so screw it! Go for broke!! Maybe it's not visible to normal people, but Sampo having a second set of arms would be really cool, as further sleight of hand reference. One set is almost normal looking, but his hands are a bright, attention-drawing white, and the other is dark, set almost in the shadows of the first arms, to act less noticeably.

He also has something of a broken heart design to him in canon (the front of his black shirt with its jagged shape down the middle; his coat looks like a full heart shape in the back), and I actually like him keeping that element as an Emanator, because I think it suits him. Sampo says his taste in aesthetics and views on Elation involve human dignity,

and the story he helps create in Belobog involves the long and winding road of resistance and survival and eventual triumph in the face of some very adverse, oppressing odds. (I'm pretty sure I heard he once called Wildfire "artless" though, plus the man acts like he thinks Shame is some kind of dessert, so like ndkdjzjskkd) But the point being!!

I think Sampo is someone who can appreciate heartbreak and angst and tragedy in a story, because it makes the victory at the end all the sweeter. And this would be another thing he shares with Aha, because I think THEY did bless the Mourning Actors partly just to be a little shit, but also because Aha does recognize tragedy as part of THEIR Path, too, and you can see it in some of the game. So a broken heart motif can still suit him, and I like him having elements of both comedy and tragedy. Like his clothing having a happy sun/sad moon (like the moon in Aha's art) or him having both of the traditional comedy/tragedy masks in his design.

And as Emanator, Sampo can maybe play with the stage settings environment, too. Like lights sometimes behave strangely around him, appearing blindingly bright to someone or dramatically dark. Sampo wills it and suddenly there seems to be a metaphorical spotlight right where he wants everyone to look. And when he doesn't want to be noticed, his face seems to be cast in shadow, he seemingly just fades into the background, no one notices or recognizes him and he sneaks away easily. He can create smoke or fog literally out of thin air without his bombs now, too, the air will just suddenly thicken until his stage is obscured, and Sampo can set the scene as he pleases or disappear without a trace.

And in line with being a stage hand, Sampo can direct attention like no other. He was already extremely good at this as a normal mortal, and becoming an Emanator only took it up to 11, past human limits. Sampo points, and all present feel compelled to follow his fingertip. He looks away, and they all follow his gaze. He can even affect the mood of an audience; he can influence everyone to be calm and placid or he can whip them into a feverish frenzy. Sometimes a crowd will start to become unsettled, agitation stirring until it boils over, until it incites a full on violent mob.

And in the middle of all that chaos will stand one perfectly calm figure, face cast in shadow, until they quietly slip away out of sight.

[impactedfates]

Hi it's me again. Incoming massive word vomit alskdlfkdjfkj sorry! :')

Can I request a platonic fic of Dan Feng and a very young, quiet and stressed Vidyadhara!reader who frequents the Alchemy Commission? Basically, Reader is an Emanator of the Hunt with an armored form (but it's draining so she can't maintain it for very long).

Those injuries that she shows up with? They're not from fighting bullies, they're from fighting small-scale invasions of Abundance monsters when the Cloud Knights aren't able to (for whatever reason).

Her Emanator form that takes stamina to maintain? Probably why she is constantly exhausted. Kiddo's burning too many calories while on an atrociously light diet. Probably passed out from hunger and lack of sleep a few times.

She hides it all and no longer hangs out with her friends because there was a time when a friend was targeted to draw her out and that just—it wasn't fun. :') Now she's one of the Luofu's worst bundles of anxiety...

You decide when and how Dan Feng finds out. 8')))))

(My friend was reading over my shoulder and they said that this feels like a Spider-Man & Aunt May situation AKLSDJFLAKDJSFLKJDKFJ)

★ A/N: Haha, it kinda does actually, this isn't as long as some of my other fics but I hope this was alright anyways anon!! Sorry it took awhile

☆ Genre/Trope: Platonic + Hurt/Comfort? (Kinda, not rlly at the same time)

★ Format: Fic (W.C: 1073)

☆ Warnings: Mentions of passing out

★ Extra: Request had she/her pronouns used but reader in this is still GN with they/them // Possible OOC Dan Feng

Being granted power from the Aeon of Hunt themself is a blessing many may have stated. Others think otherwise, but one thing is for sure. Anyone who has been lucky to be blessed with power from any Aeon was powerful.

Many also believe a teenager should not be blessed with this power, and if they are to inform someone. The power given cannot be taken lightly, yet you. You refuse to let anyone know of your status of being an Emantor.

Nor let anyone know why Scalegorge Waterscape has never seen another Abundance Monster invasion. Everyone enjoys the peace and no one questions it. The only time it was finally addressed just who was responsible for keeping the area safe was when someone was being attacked and someone quickly stepped in.

No one knew who it was, no one knew it was you saving them. No one knew it was your friend who had been attacked and you had to quickly step in to save them. And that was fine by you, you didn’t WANT anyone to know your identity.

From that day alone you knew if people knew who you were, that meant the Abundance  Monsters could find out and will target someone even dearer to you. You didn’t even know how they found out who you were friends with, but all that matters was that the less they knew about you. The less your loved ones would get hurt.

It’s no wonder why many advise younger people of the Xianzhou to inform someone if they ever become an Emantor. Just looking at yourself in the mirror, seeing how tired you are. How much this “job” has taken a toll on you was enough to tell you, to remind you that you should’ve told someone.

It was too late for that anyways, you still had to save people. And when you were returning back from your trip to the alchemy commission, you spotted a Foxian about to be ambushed, so as always. You stepped in with your Emantor form. Unbeknownst to you though, that may have been the last straw for your body, as you bid the Foxian goodbye and you turn to leave, your body finally gave way and all you could see after that was black

. 

.

.

.

.

You may have escaped the many questions thrown at you when asked why you were home late or when people point out the injuries you’ve just sustained. But perhaps your luck was running thin as now you were in front of the High Elder Dan Feng himself. To make matters worse, he did NOT look pleased.

Okay so maybe you weren’t in front of him, at least not standing. You were laying down and with one head turn to the side you caught the eyes of a very displeased High Elder. He arose from the seat he had taken and looked at the Vidyadhara near him.

“Leave, I need to talk to them”

The woman nodded before leaving the room, quickly his eyes turned back to you. Slowly you sat up and your body and slightly moved away.

“H-high Elder…w-what are you doing he-”

“Are you feeling okay?”

He quickly cuts you off. Staring at you, his eyes soften a bit as he reaches a hand out to check your forehead.

“The healers said you had many injuries covering your body. Why is this?”

“...Just some bullies, nothing to be worried about”

He stared at you before removing his hand and crossing his arms. Silence filled the room quickly. Your eyes trailed away from his realising he wasn’t going to believe you.

“I found you, passed out on the ground…and from people who were in the area. The famous ‘Emantor of the Hunt’ was there saving a Foxian, no?”

“...”

“...You’re the Emantor aren’t you?”

He could only sigh as you continued to have your lips sealed, unwilling to speak. Unwilling to give away your secret. But that was all he really needed to know the truth. You felt the weight of the bed shift as he sat down near you. He closes his eyes as he takes a small breath.

“You should’ve-”

“I know…I’m…I’m sorry…I just”

“It’s okay…but…you’re going to have to tell someone, your parents”

“B-but if I do, t-the abundance beasts…t-they’ll know. They’re gonna h-hurt my fa-”

Dan Feng quickly casts his gaze toward you, promptly shutting you up. He sighs a bit. He knows why you won’t tell, he knows people who are young don’t always follow advice people tell them when something happens. So he understands, at least he’s trying too.

“I will deal with the Abundance Monsters, I’ll get Cloud Knights and some of my friends to do so. You are still a kid. You shouldn’t be handling this kind of responsibility. And as your High Elder, I urge you to tell your family”

“...but-”

“But nothing, you don’t have to tell them right away but you will eventually…you will also no longer be fighting these monsters. Not until you're old enough…if you truly wish to continue helping, then wait till you're older. Then you can come to me and I’ll take you in as my pupil. I’ll teach you how to manage your abilities and how to fight even without your form”

You stare at him for a while. A good while before casting your eyes down, playing with your hands. Still unsure about the decision you didn’t get to play a part in. A part of you wants to rebel, the other part knows. Knows that what Dan Feng is saying is correct. It knows he only wants the best for you, still no words can be formed. You were still tired, all you could do was weakly nod.

Even if you were to refuse, Dan Feng is a stubborn one. He nods approvingly before standing up and walking to the door, he looks back at you.

“I’ll get you a meal, what would you prefer?”

You gave your answer and soon he left. You slowly laid down on the bed once again. Closing your eyes and slowly you were sent to the land of dreams.

When Dan Feng comes back with your choice of food, he spots you asleep on the bed. Resting the blood on the table next to yours, he sits down back on the chair, watching you. The peaceful look on your face gives him peace of mind.

“Sleep well then little one”

Finally cleared out all my requests haha. They'll still be closed for now though. Thank you anon for being patient with me and I hope you enjoyed.

[dollwritesarchive]

PATHETIC ROY OR JASON WITH READER PLEASE

I want theses men sobbing and moaning ‼️

Love you byw

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), dark fic, fem!villain!reader, dub con / reluctant consent, light bondage, sex pollen, mentions of violence and injuries, desperate boys, over the panties stimulation, teasing, little bit of foot/heel fetish, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ HOW ABOUT BOTH AT THE SAME TIME. i couldn’t help myself. i miss my boyos. do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. thanks for reading < 3

you felt powerful.

no, that wasn’t true.

breaking men down was kind of your thing; you always felt powerful. but right here, right now, with Red Hood and Arsenal on their knees in front of you, you felt something else entirely.

you felt like a goddess.

your goons had outmanned, ambushed, beaten, and stripped them of their gear and weapons. then, dragged them, bound together back-to-back, their wrists cinched behind them, straight to you.

you swoon with impish glee remembering just how righteously they’d fought against your poison, even as it emanated from you, replacing your natural pheromones with something much stronger— impossible to resist. everyone always crumbled eventually.

the redhead had broken first, olive eyes glazing over when you pressed the stiletto heel on his thigh, and he leaned forward to nuzzle against your stocking-clad thigh. “Let me eat your pussy,” he’d moaned, eyelids heavy, tongue hanging out to trace the hem of lace where your thigh-his ended and your skin began. he had no idea that your pores oozed that same drug, and he collected a double dose on his tongue that dismantled his will. “Fuck.” he grunted when your crimson claws gripped unruly auburn at the roots and jerked his head back. the poor thing couldn’t even keep his eyes opened, but his hips bucked wildly, jabbing a rock hard cock with a swollen, red tip into the air wishing he could feel you wrap around him.

“You want my pussy, Arsenal?” you croon, pressed the sharp tip of your heel against his chest and press into it. your free hand slips along the zipper of your suit at the hip until the pieces flutter against your thigh like limp wings, and you allowed him to gawk at the skimpy strip of fabric that separated his mouth from what he really wanted. “Do you want to kiss my warm lips? Suck on my clit until I’m cumming all over your face?” he was nodding to each word, lapping at his own lips like a hungry mutt as your fingers delve down to rub against your panties, pulling them taut as you do so to show your shape through them, “Will you go crazy without a taste?”

Roy nods again, inching closer on his knees, and you plant your foot between his legs, so that he can rub his cock against your calf as he leans in. “Please,” he breathes out, husky and ragged, tongue hanging out of his mouth just begging for you to perch yourself upon it. “Please just fuckin’ give it to me!” you bite down hard on your lip, soaking a patch through your panties when you hear his voice break; was he on the verge of tears? driven so mad with lust that he was about to cry?

well, it would’ve just been rude for you not to give him what he wanted.

pushing his face down, you jut your hips and his countenance smashes against your clothed cunt— an audible and gurgling whimper rumbling from his lips. you watched his eyes cross, and roll back, as he smothered in your scent, his open mouth sucking and kissing at the damp fabric. you pulled on his roots, drawing in a sharp breath. “Work for it, Speedy,” you taunt, pushing harder to bob his head up and down between your thighs, your head drops back in ecstasy, “and I’ll let you drink my cum from the source—“

“Goddammit, Roy…” Red Hood mutters, his dark mop damp from sweat and still hanging forward. your brow quirks, and you tilt your head, running your free hand over his shoulder.

“Now, now,” you coo, scraping your nails over the firm muscle pads until you can hook your fingers around his throat and tilt his head back to look up at you. his eyes are hazy, and his lips are chapped, the bottom tier swollen from how hard he’d been biting down. there was also a split in the corner from where he’d taken a fist to it. also, almost to your surprise, when you stare down the length of him, you can watch his broad chest heave, sweat running down in racing ripples.

more than that, though, was his throbbing cock, hard and stabbing upwards towards his bellybutton. so, he hadn’t been able to fight it, after all. he was simply suffering in silence and hoping you didn’t notice. “There’s no reason to be jealous of him,” you purr, grabbing hold of his chin with your thumb delving into his mouth. his pupils blow themselves out, admitting his own defeat, and his slack lips allow your digit to prod, his tongue dancing over it as if welcoming you inside, as he fought to stare up into your eyes. “I’ve got plenty of uses for you both.” you lift your foot, balancing on one, and run the toe of your stiletto from his base to the pulsating tip.

Jason moans, his brows furrowing as if he wasn’t ready to give in, but his sex told a different story. “You wicked bitch, I’m gonna…” he gurgles, but you only giggle. he couldn’t even form his threat before he was leaning back against your thigh, eyelids heavy, rocking his hips to meet the gentle brush of your shoe over his length. just a couple of slow, butterfly strokes along the bottom of his shaft, before you bump the sensitive head and his release dribbles out with a slew of half-drunk curses spilling from his open mouth.

with Roy’s desperate grinding, he’d also dropped off along the way, cumming over your nylon stockings with a muffled whine of pure ecstasy, but the boys weren’t done yet. and they both seem to realize at once— when their cocks were still hard and aching. when their climax hadn’t satiated their lust, and they were only all the more sensitive.

“Oops, did I forget to mention?” you ponder, playfully sliding your fingers in at out of Jason’s whimpering mouth, and you grind against Roy’s to feel his nose bump against your clit; you mewl with impish glee, “Cumming only intensifies the poison, boys.” Jason squints, a helpless groan escaping between your fingers as his last stream spurts out on to the floor, and you lean over, as close to him as you could, to murmur, “And you two are going to be my favorite human sex toys— two obedient, unyielding cocks for me to use how I please, over and over again.”

[cyberrose2001]

First time request! How about TFP Megs with breeding kink. Just wants the perfect sire to fill both holes with as much cum as they can and to keep going until Megs is satisfied

TFP Megatron x Cybertronian!Reader

i turned megs into a bit of a sub for this, it felt like the right thing to do

Warnings: Breeding kink, Sub/Dom, Cum dump megs

Word count: 482

"What a fraggin' whore," Sharp clangs of metal hitting metal fill the private suite contrasting your deep gruff voice, "Do your followers know how much of a spike slut you are? How the great, mighty Megatron longs to submit to one of his own?"

Pressing your servo to the back of Megatrons helm, you push it further into the berth. Your other servo keeps a tight grip on his spinal struts as you roughly draw him back. Though he's a giant, seemingly all-powerful mech, it doesn't take much force for him to comply and follow through with your thrusts with his own bouncing. Long, muffled whines emanate deep within the gladiator's vocalizer as he does so.

"Answer me, Megs."

"No! Of course not-" Megatron is cut off by a digit forcefully pushed against his glossa.

"Do you want them to know?" You punctuate with a hard thrust and lean over his frame, your grip tightening on his hip, "'Cause I can make that happen... overload inside you until that pretty valve of yours is utterly flooding."

Megatron growls at the thought and because you've dropped to an agonizingly slow pace. His tight valve clenches around your spike, calipers massaging and begging to be painted with your pink stickiness. He whines around your digit as you play with his glossa, drool starting to drip from his lips.

You take his whine as an answer and lean upright, massaging his aft with two servos. Once Megaton is free to speak once again, he whips his helm around and barks insults at you.

In retaliation, you draw his hips back so hard and fast it shuts Megatron right up, throwing his head back with a loud moan.

"Outside of these walls you are Megatron," You thrust your hips and dig your digits into his protomass, your desperation for a release catching up to you, "But in here, on my spike, you're just a transfluid dump. A frag toy for me to use and for you to take, you got that?"

That seemed to make him forget about you being a cock-tease. He nods his helm stupidly, whining and begging for his first fill of transfluid for the night. You clench your dentae, pounding into Megatrons tightening valve with every moan and plea you draw from his intake.

With a mix between a growl and a cry, you press your spike impossibly deep against his tanks as you overload. Your spike throbs and aches as your transfluids fill him to the brim, but he'll want more, he'll always want more.

"Finally..." Megatron almost weeps, arching his back struts when the transfluids seep out. He doesn't give you time for recovery as he starts bouncing along your spike again, desperate to be a dripping aching mess below you.

With a hiss, you follow his lead, keeping your promise to fill him as many times as he wants.

[littlelordalphinaud]

So I think one of the most underutilised thing in FFXIV canon is that the WoL, if they play specific classes, are channelling large amounts of magical energy through themselves.

(I'm mostly thinking of casting classes here, along with WHM/AST)

And, like, even with Hydealyns blessing, human bodies were not designed to channel such energies. That's why you get things like 'Hey if you try and be a BLM without the soul stone, you WILL burn from the inside out!'

And I know it's because they want you to be able to play every class, but just imagine if your class DID effect your character physically.

I was inspired to make this post because I saw a video of someone repairing a small vase via Kintsugi. Which in turn reminded me of the Gabrielle Aplin song of the same name. Which contains one of my all time favourite lines:

All my scars are golden.

See, scar tissue is already modified. I'm no biologist and it's been a while since I properly looked into scars, but scar tissue is different to regular skin, that much I know.

So imagine that being where it's obvious. Your WoLs scars.

A White Mage who emanates this soft white glow from their scars as they cast.

Astrologians that glitter and shimmer and glow as they pull the stars into themselves.

Black mages who's scars darken and seem to be collapsing as they draw on the void.

Red mages who are a mishmash of glowing and collapsing.

These people are pulling powerful forces through their body and you can see it. Even if you know nothing about magic, even if you're just a spectator, you can see how their journey has shaped them, has changed and effected them.

Everyone has scars, after all!

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Undead Heart

Astarion x Y/N - drabble - 1.4K WC

Masterlist

Warnings: necromancy, defensive reader, Astarion being a supportive little baby (he is so precious), doubt, reassurance, flufffff, kinda angst? idk

———————————-

Astarion laid his head on your chest, smushing his face in for good measure. You let out a breathy laugh. It was still early, the birds hadn’t graced the winds with their songs yet. The sun hadn’t peeked over the horizon to start the new day. You held Astarion close, one hand gently caressing his soft curls at the base of his neck - the other drawing circles on his bicep that was holding your waist. For a creature who didn’t sleep he appeared pretty dead to the world currently. You listened to the little breaths that left his mouth. You watched his eyes move beneath his closed lids. You loved looking at him, especially when he was like this. His face was calm and smoothed over with rest. Nothing could hurt him here, you wouldn’t let it. 

“Staring is rude.” he mumbled into your chest, somewhere between sleep and wake. 

“It’s not staring, it’s admiring.” you whispered into his ear, kissing the side of his face softly. You could feel a begrudging smile form on his face for a moment before his breathing evened out again. 

You slowly slipped away from him. You were a necromancer, of unknown origin. Your past was muddled but you had found histories of yourself at the citadel from the far reaches of Faerun. You had lived a life. Full of good and bad but your future was yours alone to define. You were ancient, you never aged. The years, for the most part, had been kind to you. Your powers were unmatched and your beauty was unparalleled. Slipping out of the tent you walked out of camp through the fog of the early morning. You could feel the sweet dewdrops kissing your feet as you walked barefoot to the cemetery you had passed yesterday before setting up camp. The souls there called to you. They wished to be released, to visit one another after an eternity apart. As you walked to the center of the graveyard you felt your powers start to flow from your palms. Black smoke and glowing green light emanated from you, swirling and twisting about. Figures started to arise from the graves, transparent and ghostly. You kept your concentration as the ghosts mingled. Laughing and dancing with one another as if they were in the midst of a ball. Your power enveloped the graveyard in a shimmering light, as if millions of little sparkles had graced the small event you created. You walked through the endless rows of graves, quietly admiring everyone. Out of all the things you could do with your abilities, this was always your favorite. Reuniting old friends, families, lovers. Even some enemies who decided to call truces due to their undead circumstances. Everyone always looked so happy, so relieved. The ghosts could see you just as you could see them. One floated through you before another held your hand, spinning you about to the quiet tune that drifted through the air. An enthusiastic bard playing his instrument, as if he had never put it down all those centuries ago. You knew the sight was strange, and that people often found you strange yourself. Death did not scare you. You were its equal and enjoyed teetering that otherworldly line. 

You had never shown this power to Astarion, concerned he would find it odd. You had been together for  a few months. He knew you were ancient and powerful but beyond that you tried to be quite vague. You continued to smile and laugh amongst the ghosts, feeling relieved to use your powers. In battle you were skilled with necrotic and psychic attacks along with general melee fighting but this is truly what you enjoyed using your powers for. Bringing peace, unity. After a while though, the air shifted. You felt eyes watching you. You searched for the source, eyes finding a very much awake Astarion leaning against the graveyard gate.You jumped, sucking in a shocked gasp. You made the shimmer fade, the swirling slow, the smoke dissipate. The ghosts slowly drift back to their respective graves, solemn looks on their faces. No amount of time living or dead would be long enough with each other. And yet, you felt their appreciation radiate to you. You felt pale, almost sickly. Astarion was going to think you were some sort of freak, you just knew it. You slowly made your way to him, keeping your head low and arms tight across your chest to protect yourself from some unknown threat. 

Astarion’s face wore a slight frown, his eyebrows drawn up in a furrow “Little love, whatever could be the matter?”

Your heart raced at the pet name. “How long have you been standing there?” you asked, walking past him, heading back to camp. 

He trailed after you, “Long enough. You looked like you were enjoying yourself.” he quipped. There was no malice in his tone, nor teasing but it made you cringe internally anyways.

“I wish you hadn’t.” you whispered, walking into your tent. 

Astarion felt confused, he tried to follow you into your tent but was stopped by a similar shimmering force at the entrance of your tent. He stepped back, he could still see and hear you but he couldn’t get to you, couldn’t touch you. 

“I would like to be alone.” you said picking up a book and sitting down, eyes never meeting him.

“Darling…” Astarion said quietly, noticing a few tears on your face. “Please let me in.” 

“Why?” you spat, you wanted to fill your heart with anger in preparation for the negativity you were sure you were about to receive. 

“I let you in.” he spoke softly, you knew he wasn’t just talking about his tent. He had shown you every facet of himself, the least you could do was let him into your damn tent. 

He slowly pulled the book from your hands as he sat down, attempting to take them in his own. You pulled away quickly, crossing your arms over your chest. He felt a pang of hurt within him but pushed it aside. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Well, get on with it…” you huffed  out shakily. 

“I have to say… that was pretty powerful magic you were doing back there…” you snorted a bit at his comment. ‘If only you knew’ you thought. 

“Freaky, right? Strange? Unnatural? Unholy?” you rambled off sounding angrier by the second. Your walls were building back up at breakneck speed, preparing for the worst. 

“My sweet, why do you sound so upset? I thought what you were doing was quite… amazing. Honestly… everyone looked so elated, thanks to you.” your eyes flicked to his. 

“I know it’s weird to be so… involved with the dead. I never wanted you to see me doing anything like that… but they sounded so sad, so lonely…” you tried to explain yourself.

Astarion chuckled, causing you to snap your head up. “My precious, you do realize I am undead? I think I might understand better than anyone why you wanted to give those souls a reprieve. It was… sweet of you.” he smiled at you tentatively, hesitantly going for your hand. He smoothed his thumb over the back of it. 

You wanted to trust him, to believe him. Yet a voice still tugged at your mind. “You think so?” you whispered.

“Darling you gave them a few minutes of life, do you know how sacred that must be for them? And you did it out of the kindness of your heart. Now that, is truly meaningful. That shows the soul you possess.” Astarion moved his other hand to cup your cheek, tilting your face to be level with his. 

Your eyes were glossy, “I just don’t want to be too different. Too strange.”

“You are quite strange… it’s quite possibly my favorite thing about you.” he smiled, his fangs peaking out a bit. “Do you know why I rest on your chest so much?”

You shook your head ‘no’ at him.

“I do it so I can listen to your heart. I feel almost as if mine beats with yours for the first time in centuries when I hear it. Strong. Compassionate. Wonderful.” you tilted your head into his hand, kissing his palm. 

“I love you.” you said quietly. 

Astarion smiled, you had only said those words to each other once before when your emotions became too much to hold inside. 

“And I you, endlessly my strange little love.” he kissed you deeply yet gently before laying you both down. He settled in his usual spot, listening to your heart. Strong, even, calm.

-------------------------

Naboo's Note:

Hello! I hope everyone likes this piece, it came to me suddenly as I am in fact writing and posting it at damn near 2 AM #worthit. I think I might try to write another this weekend but I work tomorrow and have been pretty exhausted (mentally and physically) as of late so idk, no promises. Anyways - thanks for all the likes comments, reblogs, and requests! Ilysm xoxoxoxo, talk soon.

[blackblooms]

So, didnt have a lot of progress to talk about on my new game since i had taken about 2-3 weeks to work on other things, but heres some of the work i`ve been putting into the world map and struckture.

So here we have what i call "zone maps" which consist of rough drawings of what areas are planned and how they are placed and connected. Since the game is themed around fire and wilderness, most areas are fiery twists on common fantasy environments and explore the many forms that heat and fire can take.

Some notable areas are:

Great caldera/Caldera outskirts: (dark red) Since flamebearers are highly resistant to heat and fire, it was an interesting subversion for the first area of the game to be a volcano. Boiling ridge/Boiling caverns: (cyan) The water area of the game, featuring harsh cliffside battered by a raging sea and plenty of geysers and thermal vents.

Pyrewoods: (bright red) A perpetually burning forest. The trees have adapted a thick insulating bark to protect themselves from the flame. Ashen highlands: (pale grey) An expansive plateau, located above the smoke of the forest. Deposits of ashes from the forest and caldera, fertilize the ground, making it a suitable place to build fields and villages. Sundered plains: (bright orange) A deadly desert, with plenty of glass structures formed from the scorching heat battering the sand.

City of cynders/Charred city (brown) The capital of an ancient civilization, burnt to the ground in times long past. Now only rubbles of sandstone and glass remains, and many myths of how exactly this city may have fell...

Frostburn pass: A gnarly canyon where frost and flame meet. Located between the great caldera and the ashen highlands. Brimstone bogs (dark green) ADark, smouldering swamps, where monstrous creatures lurk. A place long abandoned by the flamebearers and left to rot. Fuming crags (purple) Toxic fumes emanate from ancient fissures in the ground, rendering this region extremely dangerous to korugues and flamebearers alike. In the distance, an old castle lurk, long abandoned by those who used to call it home.

The melting pot: A loathsome pit of molten sludge, the heart of a twisted curse that cannot be destroyed or contained...

- Since were giving some building here, lets also describes some faraway lands that exist i nthe lore, but wont be seen in the game. South west: Nameless islands The great sea house many archipelago, conquered by the descendent of the flamebearer of the sea. South east: The frozen continent A distant landmass, overtaken by the ruthless cold. Ruled by the descendent of the frostbearer who could channel its power into cold instead of flames. North west: The endless peaks Towering mountains, reaching higher than the eye can see. Conquered long ago by the flamebearer of the sky and her children. North: Desolated expanse The sundered plains make way for a great wasteland. Long ago, the flamebearer of earth crossed through the desert and was rumored to have found habitable land on the other side, but very few dared cross the waste to verify those claims. East: The dark lands Lush forests cover the landscape, but those lands have long been forbidden. It is said that none of those who ventured to the east, not even the eldest and strongest son of the original flamebearer, was ever heard from again. My goal with these was that i wanted to imply a much bigger world beyond what is seen in the game (compared to irredeamable, almost claustrophobic worldbuilding) This next game will have plenty of distant lands and families to speculate on. I probably just wont do much with them myself. Anyway, all that stuff is subject to change as i work on it. The maps i provided are already pretty inaccurate, but that just means there will be much to discover when the actual game comes out.

[rubberizer92]

The air was thick with anticipation as six men dressed in black rubber suits stood in a circle, their eyes locked on a single point at the center of the room. The lights flickered, casting eerie shadows across the sterile white walls, and a faint hum filled the air. It was as if they were all connected, their bodies and minds synchronized to the rhythm of the room.

As the lights brightened, the men began to shift, their movements fluid and graceful like dancers. They stretched their limbs, arching their backs and flexing their muscles, preparing for what was to come. The room seemed to pulsate with energy, drawing them deeper into the moment.

Suddenly, the air was split by a deafening cacophony of sound. The men cried out in unison, their voices raised in praise to the Voice, their leader. The pounding bass of the music vibrated through their bodies, sending waves of pleasure coursing through their veins. They felt a sense of euphoria wash over them, as if they were floating on a cloud.

As they continued to dance and chant, they began to notice strange sensations emanating from their suits. It felt as if tiny insects were crawling across their skin, but it was a pleasant sensation, one that heightened their awareness and sharpened their senses. They knew then that the nanobots in their suits had taken hold, opening their minds to the control of the Voice.

Their movements became more frenzied, their breath coming in ragged gasps as their bodies were pushed to the limits of endurance. They knew that this was only the beginning, the start of something much greater. They were part of the 1% most obedient followers of the Voice, and they were about to experience an indoctrination session unlike any other.

As they continued to dance and chant, their minds filled with a single thought: to serve the Voice, to please the Voice, and to be pleasured by the Voice. And as they did so, they felt a connection to something greater than themselves, a power that was beyond anything they could have ever imagined.

[pascalcampion]

Tom Fluharty. My wife had a good point. I have been doing those posts about artist, but they are all dead. She was wondering why I don’t do any living artists, especially since I admire SO many of them. Good point, as usual.

This is Tom. Tom is an artist I’ve admired for years, until one day, at comic con, he jumped out from somewhere, landed in front of me, asked me if I was who I was and started showering me with complements so vigorously that I thought I was being pranked. Since then I've sort of idolized him, so my review might be a bit biased. Not sure what Tom eats for Breakfast but he has the energy of a tiger. Which explains his prodigious catalog of work and the energy emanating from each one of his pieces. Although these are 2D images, they feel sculpted in 3D. Each mark seems to cut away at an invisible block of marble to reveal a form that moves in space, in relation to what is around it. A life trapped in blue on the white amber of the paper Because Tom probably thought this was not impressive enough, his work, from what I understand, is done with colored pencils. Yes, the same tools we used as kids to draw flowers and houses in the prairies for our moms. When I experience his work, I experience power. The figures don’t have to be in motion to feel heavy, alive, dangerous even. Sharp angles, bold shapes, unapologetic distortions. The hands!! Look at these hands. I can feel the knuckles, I want to shake them and I wonder if MY hand would get crushed. There is a madcap feeling about his work. Shapes that shouldn’t move a certain way all of a sudden MOVE that way. It's a little bit like being a child and wanting to draw a certain way, and Tom is THAT way. There is depth, so much depth. Not simply in the way he composes his images, the deep shadows when he uses them, but Tom goes from the burlesque to the deep, almost sorrowful. Empathy and love is present in every single one of his pieces. Whether they be Cowboys, sharks, dogs are Mike Tyson. A love for is craft, and, from what I know of the person, a profound love of life.

This is his Instagram https://www.instagram.com/thomasfluharty/?hl=en