#thornlike

[nuka-goblin]

when deciding how to protect future humans from digging up our nuclear waste disposal sites 10,000 or more years from now, one serious proposal included 'raycats' - genetically modified cats that would change color when exposed to radiation. myths and songs (like the fun one below!) would be shared to associate cats changing color with danger.

depicted: a glowing green raycat, perched in a field of thornlike concrete spikes, which were intended to warn away our descendants with foreboding architecture

[dopescissorscashwagon]

Hairy Woodpecker female in Northern Colorado Foothills.

Hairy Woodpecker (Rocky Mountains)(Dryobates villosus)OTHER NAMESPico Velloso (Spanish)Pic chevelu (French)

The larger of two look alikes, the Hairy Woodpecker is a small but powerful bird that forages along trunks and main branches of large trees. It wields a much longer bill than the Downy Woodpecker's almost thornlike bill. Hairy Woodpeckers have a somewhat soldierly look, with their erect, straight-backed posture on tree trunks and their cleanly striped heads.

Look for them at backyard suet or sunflower feeders, and listen for them whinnying from woodlots, parks, and forests.

📸 Dagmar Leo Photography

[mezuni-and-willow]

🎲

Send a 🎲 + any character, yours or mine, to read what they would be like with new, randomized typings

I’ll pick Mezuni, now with the grass type!

She would probably mellow a little; and would become green and thorny, like a hedgehog. She really wouldn’t like it but would get used to it; specializing in thornlike and poison moves

[kowaindar0u]

i present: yuichi's playlist! [spotify] [youtube]

(as of 3/14/2024)

as with most of the playlists i make, some songs are readily applicable, some just have the right Vibe, some are sorta funny... and in yuichi's case, there's a lot of a rain theme going on lol

(also, some are ones from my own tourabu mood playlist that i just had to bring over)

because i've always wanted to do this i'm gonna go through all the songs and maybe explain why i put it there or something?? yolo! playlist guide under the cut lol

i recommend having this going while you listen!

most songs (on the youtube version) have lyrics/translations where available!

there's a lot of kpop don't judge me lol

Dreamcatcher - Full Moon this is a song from dc to their fans on their first anniversary lol, so the themes of a somewhat-new bond are pretty relevant!

Seventeen- Campfire do i even need to explain? sobs this song makes my heart warm ... just thinking about yuichi & all the toudans sitting around a campfire having *sniffles* precious moments... ; A;

Rihanna - Umbrella LMAO this one is very on-the-nose but also just thinking about it's hilarious, i couldn't resist. (plus like... it's a jam. also lyrically it actually does fit!)

Dreamcatcher - Boca be prepared to see a lot of dreamcatcher w/me, they're my Favorite(TM). anyway Boca is about protecting someone from harsh words (better translation is "if those thornlike words / start to hurt you / i won't let them open that boca (mouth)") AND has a very rainy/stormy atmosphere which makes it perfect. yes i know my toudans are Sword Warriors yes i still want to protect them as best i can!! (it's more about like. bullying and hate but yknow. similar sentiments...shhh...)

The Weather Girls - It's Raining Men ...............i don't think i need to explain myself on this >.> (THO HAHA IMAGINE IF THIS WAS HOW SWORDS MANIFESTED IN HIS HONMARU i'm dead)

ToppDogg -Annie (Anniversary) another 'anniversary' type song, i think it speaks for itself. saniwa💙toudans!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Clean Bandit - Rather Be lyrically, yes!! being a saniwa is not an easy or peaceful job by any means but yuichi wouldn't want to be anywhere else <3 also the song makes me think of rainy/cool moist days!

Seventeen - Home seventeen shows up a decent amount too, but what can i say? the songs fit lol. saniwa-toudan relationships might not always be 100% sunshine and rainbows, but... they are home, no?

Twice - Feel Special GOD. this song came out while i was very into tkrb a few years ago and so that plus the song itself made me actually cry when i first watched it lol. it's so fitting though, i think from toudan or yuichi's perspective. for yuichi, he clearly struggles with his self-worth, and is...well, he's no stranger to a breakdown. but ... he's got so many touken danshi around him who love him

Girls' Generation - Talk Talk no explanation needed methinks! <3 just comparing a love to the rain

SF9 - The Beat Goes On okay this song is just like... pure beach episode, everyone gathering in the sunset and having a great time being free with each other. i include it on so many playlists where i just want to imagine a joyful time with the whole cast of whatever, it just has to go here too, even if you'd be hard-pressed to get yuichi on a beach lol

Yuju - Play this is just strictly for the vibes. i don't know that yuichi has someone who dipped and hurt him like that (but it could be interesting i guess lol). the song just is perfect for the rainy atmosphere

Dreamcatcher - Piri i told u prepare for dreamcatcher lol. anyway this song is literally about like... depression and getting to a point where you need a lifeline. very yuichi, unfortunately

New Politics - One of Us another "do i even need to explain?" song ;u; it's definitely on my tkrb playlist lol. also the lyric video is kinda fun lol imagining it as different toudans at the table

Gfriend - Summer Rain just very nice rainy vibes.

Super Junior - Why I Like You this song (the whole album really) has always given me rainy/humid vibes. but also... love <3 (ofc not necessarily romantic in yuichi's case! but yknow what i mean)

Flo Rida - My House almost a joke addition but like... also almost not a joke LOL

David Cook - Come Back to Me okay this song is tkrb playlist because it's like... 100% kiwame send-off vibes. i initially added it after watching hanamaru, thinking about kashuu sending off yasusada, but i think it also suits most sendoffs very well. i wanna cry. sobs....

SF9 - RPM So I don't have a good reason for adding this to yuichi's or my tkrb playlist other than it makes me think of using time travel to go on a mission. also i just REALLY like the song... and listening to it with the rain going is mmmwah *chef kiss*. just imagine a team going up to the [time travel device] all ready to fucking GO, looking all badass in the mist and shit. and then PPEPWWW they go! and now they're ready to fuck shit up (to un-fuck the timeline)... it's the VIBES AGAIN

Darren Hayes - Bloodstained Heart no words needed <3

Dreamcatcher - Over the Sky another anniversary fan song from dc! this song just makes me so happy and like. energized. spring time. anime conventions. so it's on my tkrb playlist, but it's also a sweet and fun song so, yknow, puts it on.

Ravi - Lean on Me is this yuichi talking to a toudan? or a toudan talking to yuichi? or ? who knows, but either way, i like it. sweet and reliable.

Seventeen - Thanks just... a song about being so grateful to know and love someone.

Major Lazer - Cold Water (the one song with justin bieber i listen to unironically lol)

Seventeen - Holiday oh man just LISTEN to it, even without the lyrics it's just like. fun!! party!! chill!!

SF9 - Bibora a jam. a rainy jam. but also maybe some parts of it speak to yuichi.

Jinsoul (Loona) - Singing in the Rain KNK - Rain Super Junior - Raining Spell for Love Strictly for the vibes.

JBJ - True Colors oh man. this song makes me cry too. my heart...

Starley - Call on Me Another song that I think explains itself lol

Dreamcatcher - Reason yet another anniversary song from deukae but it fits. through all the triumphs and hardships, despair and joy, the toudans in this citadel have become his whole reason for being and they inspire him to keep going and do better and be someone they can depend on and be proud to call their saniwa.

[imthediamondintherough]

Irisviel Falling Mud Rain

A silk dark indigo, halter like dress with multiple string like thin ribbons around the neck tying into a a flower with the strings making eight petals and extending down to the cleavage and criss crossing to the part of the neckline of the part mimicking a demi-bra. The edge has double red lines next to the trim of looping arches that tie into a thin bow in the center. Under the breast is a pentagon cutout with thin strings criss crossing through it. Under it, seperated by a strip of fabric is a irregular pentagon that dips to make a v shape at the waist. The skirt has a waterfall back, giving the illusion of multiple layers, which cascades to the floor and it stops just past the knee in the front.

The detached poet sleeves are translucent and has a wide pleated trim that flare out a bit. At the top the sleeve starts just under the shoulder with thornlike strings tangled together and the actual sleeve has a short layer of petal like ruffles with red lining.

[cannedcrow]

Arbitrary Darkness (Hermitcraft monster hunter AU) : Part IV

Part III

A/N: enjoy some angst and grit! I’m pleased with this chapter.

TW for blood and violence

~ please rb if you enjoy! ….〆(･ω･。) ~

-

Grian went still, his thoughts charging wildly as he processed the situation. His gun was pressed against the small of his back, but in this crowd it’d do about as much good as a peashooter. He decided it was best to employ the time-honoured tactic of weaselling.

“What?” He tried for casual amusement, but Scar leant towards him with an air of conspiracy.

“I can hear your heart beating, A~drien,” he said in a sing-songy tone, his friendly temperament not shifting a beat. This, Grian reflected with horror, was probably true - to make up for their poor sense of smell, phantoms had superb hearing and sight. His right arm still rested on the bar, and he began ever so slowly to slide it back towards his gun.

His movement did not go unnoticed. With barely a moment to spare, Doc slammed a heavy hand on Grian’s wrist and pinned it to the bar. Occupants were starting to take notice now, the thud drawing curious gazes to them. As Grian surveyed the onlookers warily, a horribly familiar face slid through the tables and Tango approached. He wasn’t wearing his glasses or gloves, and his eyes - that deep, hateful red - were still a shock to Grian. His shoulder was bandaged, judging by gauze that just peeked out of his shirt collar. His hands were blackened at his fingertips, ending in short, thornlike claws, and like Grian, he had a tail, long, dark and thin, with a tuft of fur at the end that twitched with interest.

“Hi, Tango!” Scar greeted him brightly, “A friend of yours dropped by to say hello.”

This new blow pushed Grian’s shock over the edge. He struggled to wrench free his right hand to no avail, and instead grabbed for his gun with his left - But it wasn’t there. A noise made him crane his head to see Etho absently spinning his gun on the bar and giving him an apologetic look, as though he were merely informing Grian that a hotel was full.

“Now now, play nice,” Scar scolded, anchoring Grian’s other wrist.

Tango cackled, a raucous sound like a cracking fire, an expression of wicked delight on his face.

“Hi buddy! Aw, you don’t seem pleased to see me. Maybe you were expecting -“ he raised his voice to a comical, posh falsetto, “Miss Tabitha Crawley, who’s so terribly worried about those monsters in the alley!”

He laughed again as a new wave of fury washed over Grian, burning in his cheeks.

“Lookit you, all dressed up!” He approached Grian, pulling the glove off the hand still being crushed by Doc to reveal the birdlike appendage beneath.

“Now that’s commitment,” Tango remarked with the same oily snideness. But as he examined Grian’s hand, he frowned just slightly, his derisive attitude faltering for the first time. Without warning, he dug his claws in hard, and Grian cried out in surprise.

“No way!” Tango exclaimed with genuine shock.

“No way what?” Grian spat, wanting nothing more than to kill Tango and get it done with.

“The term ‘race-traitor’ seems appropriate here,” Etho submitted mildly.

“Man, I can’t decide which of us should be more embarrassed. It never crossed my mind you were a nonhuman!”

Doc, who it seemed barely needed to exert any force to keep Grian pinned and was calmly sipping his drink, added, “and here we were thinking you were undercover. What an upset.”

Grian gritted his teeth. “What the hell is this?” He demanded with the frightened anger of one falsely accused, “whatever it is, you’ve got the wrong person. I haven’t done anything!”

He let his gaze flit pleadingly about the room and noticed some onlookers exchanging unsure glances.

“Uh, you sure you’re not manhandling a guest, Doc?”

The speaker was a stocky man a little shorter than Doc, whose dark brown hair was tied loosely back, almost hiding his pricked canine ears. He was dressed somewhat casually, his shirt half unbuttoned and his sleeves rolled up to to expose bluntly clawed hands covered in wiry dark fur that faded up his forearms. He had a sparse, neat beard surrounding a roguish, fanged grin that was oddly charming.

“Ren,” Doc greeted warmly, as if welcoming a guest to tea.

Paying no mind to the exchange, Tango’s eyes narrowed. “Save yourself some embarrassment and don’t try that bullshit with me, Grian,” he hissed, his breath hot on Grian’s face, “We had a perfectly civil thing going, but you were too much of a sanctimonious, nosy fuck to let a good thing be.”

“Civil?” Grian snarled, “You call yourself civil? You’re a murderous, conniving demon. If I had any sense I’d’ve rid the world of you the moment we met, monster or not.”

Anger rippled through the room at this. Grian realised he’d given up any pretence of ignorance, but that plan had long since withered. Anyway, it felt good to express his fury, however unwise his compromising position might make it.

“An imp, actually,” Doc corrected coolly, “no horns.”

Ren cocked his head, a gesture so doglike that if it weren’t for the gravity of the current situation, Grian would’ve laughed. “Hate to interrupt … but aren’t harpies carnivores?”

“Yeah Grian, aren’t they?” Scar pressed with mock-curiosity, clearly enjoying himself.

“I don’t kill people,” he gritted tersely.

Doc snorted. “So that’s why you are so … small. I thought you were a bird of prey, only I’d never seen one with such little wings.”

Grian flushed, irritated at the jab. He was sick of this, humiliated at being toyed with publicly and furious - at Scar, at Doc, at Tango and at his own naïveté.

“Whatever the hell it is you want, get it over with.” He had no intention of pleading, even if he’d thought it’d do any good.

Tango regarded him appraisingly, and it was clear from his utterly apathetic gaze that he hadn’t a shred of a reservation for Grian. There’d never been real friendship between them, and the polite mutual respect that existed had been shredded the moment Grian had drawn his gun in that alley.

“You think you’re different, do you?” Tango’s voice was venomous and twisted with derision. “You think you’re a hero? You’re just like the rest of us and you always will be. If you think you’re like them, then go - take off your cloak and gloves and wait for their gratitude. Go see how you like the people you think you’re saving; see how different they think you are.”

Tango took Grian’s hand again, holding it like a palm-reader would. Then he pressed the pad of his thumb hard into one of Grian’s talons, drawing a bright bead of blood that trickled down his hand, followed eagerly by another. He held his bleeding hand near Grian’s face as if letting a dog get acquainted with his scent.

“Come on, birdie,” he coaxed mockingly, a glint of gleeful cruelty in his eyes.

The scent of humanoid blood stirred the same deeply suppressed instinct in Grian as it always did. He felt his heartbeat rise just slightly and knew already his pupils would be dilating. He ran his tongue over his sharp canines.

I’ll kill you, he thought savagely as he unflinchingly returned Tango’s malevolent, ruby stare, I’ll rip you limb from fucking limb, you evil bastard.

Tango smiled even more widely and wiped his blood down Grian’s lips and chin, a horribly lascivious gesture that made him shudder involuntarily.

But Grian wasn’t the only one who’s interest had been captured by the fresh blood. Scar’s grip had slackened just slightly, his eyes fixed hungrily on the interaction before him. Now or never.

In a moment, he violently twisted his wrist free, grabbed the knife stowed in his waistband and used the arm anchored by Doc as leverage to plunge it into him - he didn’t know where, for in that split second, pain had exploded in his forearm, powerful jaws dragging him upwards before releasing him. He toppled backwards, falling hard with a spray of broken glass as his head cracked a shelf. His head spun wildly as he tried desperately to reorient himself, and when he looked up it was to meet the harlequin gaze of a massive, pale snow leopard, teeth freshly blooded and bared in a snarl.

The room had descended into chaos. He heard Doc shouting for order above the cacophony of inhuman anger and distress. His shoulder was badly wrenched and while the pain was distant, he felt blood pulsing from the deep wounds in his forearm, hot and angry and demanding that he take action. He scrabbled frantically in the broken glass around him, hoping for any sort of weapon, aid, anything. Etho padded closer, and among the bar’s detritus, his fist closed blessedly on what felt like a shrivelled, apricot-sized ball.

A thump came from behind him as Grian shoved the chorus fruit into his mouth, even as a huge paw attempted to swat it away.

Scar had evidently vaulted the bar, and without hesitation he sunk vicious fangs deep into Grian’s shoulder as though with enough force he could keep him there. Pain shot through him, acidic and hot. Etho leapt forward, teeth meeting in his wing, the weight of his forepaws crushing Grian’s torso as he extended his claws. He cried out, swiped blindly with his own talons and felt them find purchase in Etho’s furred cheek—

But Grian had already spat the chorus fruit pulp from his mouth, and he seemed to run through the teeth like water as space turned momentarily liquid.

The next thing he knew was the cool tile pressed against his cheek, shocking in competition with the sweat and blood like lava on his skin. Get up. Go! He’d been lucky to end up in the lobby, but he knew he still didn’t have enough time. He scrambled to his feet unsteadily, even as he heard Impulse’s concerned inquiry and accompanying hoofbeats. He fled through the corridor, slammed his aching shoulder against the concealed doorway, and stumbled through the maze of rusting slaughterhouse equipment, leaving smears of his own blood on metal that hadn’t tasted it for a long time.

Then he was in the alley again. The sky was an inky mass far above him, darker than usual thanks to the oppressive clouds. In his absence, the rain had returned in earnest, chilling him violently. There wasn’t any time to conceal his wings and tail, and Grian prayed the darkness and late hour would be enough to ensure silent streets.

Terror ran rampant throughout him as he dashed homeward, pain and rainfall distorting his sense of direction. More than the monsters he’d angered though, he was terrified of the bite on his shoulder. Phantoms had powerful paralytic venom developed to fell their prey without them having to latch onto them long. He had no idea how long he had before the venom started it’s work - depending on what percentage phantom blood was in Scar, it could be as little as 20 minutes. In his panic he fancied he could already feel venom creeping through his veins, turning them iron-wrought.

Thankfully, the streets were empty - no one sensible ventured into the rain on a night like this, not when any manner of crooks or monsters could be skulking in the shadows. He knew he was followed by an irregular trail of blood and hoped it would be enough to wash it away.

Seville Square was far behind him now, but as he navigated his way through the labyrinthine alleys of New Hermiton, his adrenaline took a backseat and his energy waned. He panted raggedly even as he shivered, soaked through with nothing but his undershirt on.

After what felt like hours, Grian recognised the stonework of the uniform apartments he knew as home. Undue relief washed over him like rain. It was as he made for the side door that he misstepped, slipping on the slick steps and tumbling helplessly to the base of the stairs a few feet below the street. As he curled tightly into himself, pain jolting through him, exhaustion saw it’s chance and swept in on heavy wings.

He couldn’t move anymore, too much of the adrenaline-wary pain and fear was pouring into him. The pavement was wet and slimy with moss, but at least it was partially sheltered by an overhang. He banged a fist weakly against the door, but either Mumbo wasn’t there, or simply couldn’t hear him.

He couldn’t bring himself even to stand. Pain lashing through his injured wing, he wrapped his wings tightly around himself, thankful for the camouflage of his dark plumage. He found himself sobbing, the kind that wracks one’s body entirely - though perhaps that was partially to the credit of his trembling. He wasn’t quite sure why he was crying - Anger, stress, fear, and pain were all valid contenders. His injuries ached dully, softly weeping blood onto the pavement. Scar’s bite burned with acidic fury, pain pulsing from it in steady waves. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid.

The nights events replayed in his head over and over, snippets of conversation blurring together. ‘can’t drink on the job?’ … ‘..see how you like the people you think you’re saving…’ ‘I can hear your heart beating ….’

On a lullaby of disjointed memory, Grian was dragged beneath the black waves of fitful sleep.

[lightning-and-lavender-fire]

So I only learned about HLVRAI, like, today, but I came across @black-mesa-slut-voice’s Sweet Voice fanon dictionary and the conlanger in me went !!!!

I guess that’s be pink-magenta lol

Part of me thought this would be really cool to use as a supplement to note-taking or journaling, to make personal comments or write about emotional experiences. But since always carrying around 22 colored pens and switching between them is a bit of a hassle, I decided to create...

The Sweet Voice Notation System.

Each of the main symbols above maps to one of the 22 colors listed in black-mesa-slut-voice’s doc, with both color and emotional symbolism kept in mind.

Dark red - looks like a slash mark or cut

Red - similar-ish to dark red, kinda looks like an exclamation point

Orange - looks flamelike

Gold - it’s the “o” in “ouros,” and also vaguely depicts a stomach turning

Yellow - the shape looks thornlike, and also precariously balanced on one point (and thus easily agitatable)

Neon yellow - shaped like a lightning bolt

Bright green - sorta looks like a small leaf

Dark green - sorta looks like a tree trunk

Teal - originally meant to look like outreaching arms, coincidentally also kinda looks like a baby bird’s open beak

Cyan - two connected and intertwined circles

Blue - opposite of red (ik ik red and blue aren’t opposites but come on), looks like a drop of water (elongated to avoid confusion w/ loop in orange)

Navy - looks like an ocean wave

Indigo - represents the back and forth of greetings and goodbyes

Purple - described in the doc as a “spring evening,” this symbol represent a sunset

Mauve - looks like an m, but also symbolically shows someone covering their face with their hands

Pink - loops form a heart shape

Magenta - shaped somewhat like a firework or explosion

White - shaped like clouds/fog, overall a drowsy sorta line

Grey - similar to 1 or I

Black - shaped both like a snake and like a question mark

Clear - flat line, nothing happening

Brown - just scribbles, a total mess

The notation system is cursive, so movements from one color to another can all be written in one stroke, turning those combinations into distinct words. This definitely meets my goal of a notation system that’s easy to write, has distinct letters so it can be written fast and at small sizes while still being understandable, and can be used for journaling or on-the-side notetaking.

Once I started thinking of these color combos as words, of course, I got to thinking about sentences...

The stuff below the dotted line in that picture is optional and still in the works, but lets you do two basic things. 1: Placement in time. The greater-than/less-than symbols denote emotions that occurred in the past or future. That dot is optional, since no market implies a present-tense statement, but it can be used to create additional contrast with the past or future. I might decide to have it serve some other function, like stacking with the past/future markers to denote specific events rather than general states (like Spanish’s preterite vs. imperfect past). But for right now, it just emphasizes that something is in the present.

2: The arrows show causality. The word the arrow is pointing from is the cause, and the word it’s pointing to is the effect. So a forwards arrow works like “therefore” and a backwards arrow like “because.” This is already handled by the color combinations themselves in a lot of cases, so it should only be used if there isn’t a sensible two- or three-color word that can convey the idea at hand already. The sentences on that sheet of paper are good examples.

@black-mesa-slut-voice I hope you enjoy this! Now if you’ll excuse me I need to figure out who Benrey is lol

Edit: Wrote “maybe” instead of “mauve” aasdjkhsd

[citadelspires]

Good Morning!

Happy Tuesday, You’ve all survived the first day of the week, it’s only uphill from here! Today I have for your appreciation the Celosia argentea L. aka Silver Cockscomb (I don’t name the flowers I just spread the awareness)

This one holds a special place in my heart for looking like it’s literally on fire I mean how frickn cool is that it’s really incredible one of my absolute favorites.

[Photo ID: A picture of a flower with varying hues of bright orange, almost conveying the look that the plant is on fire. The flower is made up of many orange thornlike stems that all sprout from the base and continue branching out like a tree End ID]

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Black Ships

Brian’s eyes fluctuated with the light they were in. In broad daylight, a crisp blue sky could lighten them into a brilliant silver color. But today, the low light from the heavy storm clouds that had now engulfed the Aido-Hwedo in solid sheets of rain turned them a gunmetal grey as he walked through the halls towards the women’s barracks. He wasn’t allowed in that area, but Ru’Yi hadn’t come out to breakfast.

He pulled his phone from his jeans pocket and looked at it, his thumb scrolling down.

“Where are you?”

“Not feeling good. I have a headache.”

“Seasick?”

“Maybe. I took some medication but…”

“But what?”

There was no response after that. He assumed she went back to sleep and went about his morning routine. He checked his phone periodically but that question hung there seen, but not responded to.

It drove him here under the watchful gaze of the security cameras. He dialed her number and lifted the phone to his ear. It rang once, twice, three times… The operation Final End would start soon. This might be the last time they got to talk.

Voice mail. Her bright cheerful recorded greeting pushed his spirits down. He lowered the phone and looked at it again.

He texted. “I’m outside the women’s barracks.” He sent the message. He started typing. “Can you come-”

But she already responded before he finished. 

“I know.”

He lifted his head, but as far as he could tell, he was alone. He looked up at the cameras. Did she have some sort of video feed she could see him on?

He waved at the cameras. “Are you alright? Can you come out?” He looked down at his phone again.

The door in front of him opened. Ru’Yi stood there in her Cassell uniform, unsmiling, eyelids drooping. Her hair, usually shiny and bouncing, hung in dull fraying ropes.

“Hey…” Brian’s mind filled with concern. “Are you sick?”

Ru’Yi folded her arms over her chest and leaned against the threshold of the doorway. She kept her eyes on the ground.

Brian returned his phone to his pocket. “What’s wrong?”

“This is going to sound stupid. But I had a really bad dream.” The coils of her hair drifted across her face and she lifted them with a half hearted puff of air. “It wasn’t scary or anything. Just depressing. It made me realize a lot of things, the more I thought about it.”

“If you want to talk, we can go somewhere.”

She lifted her eyes to him. They twitched here and there, like she was reading something written on his face. But that whole time, she didn’t smile. He noticed that she didn’t have any makeup on. Her tie was a bit crooked. The more he focused, the more things seemed off.

She gave a little shake of her head. “No. This is fine.” She lowered her gaze again. “This is something that has been affecting me for a long time. I thought by going with Cassell it would be better.” Her lips pressed together.

Brian was unsure what to do. “Uh… we’re on camera right now. If you’re going to spill your guts then maybe this isn’t exactly the right place. That’s what I meant.”

That coaxed a smile out of her, but that wasn’t what he was aiming for. He wasn’t joking, but she laughed. “Right. Well… I think it’s perfect. Anyway, what happened was, in my dream I was laying down on the grass and there was this voice… like really small next to my ear. And it was really annoying, asking me all sorts of questions like… who are you? Where are you from? Who your parents are?”

She twined one finger in her ringlets. “What was funny is that they were trying to be authoritative and demanding but they were so terrified that… I was trying to calm them down. And the more I tried to calm them down the more crazy they got. They started screaming, trying to get me to answer. I just answered just to calm them down. But it didn’t work.”

“I could tell they were still scared. They even tried to threaten me but… they were like a mouse.” She held one hand over the other. “Like this big. And that reminded me of something my father told me when I was little. When I started to realize that I was naturally stronger and faster and quicker to learn than others. He told me the story of the good elephant and the bad elephant. How the good elephant helps others and shares his food and is careful when she moves so she doesn’t hurt all the little people under her feet.”

“But the bad elephant doesn’t care. She steals the food from people and stomps all over them.”

“And he asked me what kind of elephant I wanted to be. I wanted to be good. I wanted to be a good elephant...” She whimpered and her voice cracked. “But that’s not wh…” She looked away from him, her eyes full of tears. “But that’s not what I really wanted! It doesn’t matter if I’m good or bad, I’m still an elephant!”

Ru’Yi’s voice echoed for a second through the empty corridor.

“It does matter.I could have done a lot of bad things with my strength but I chose not to.” Brian said quietly.

Her eyes flicked up to him and she shook her head. “No… you do bad things, you just get to pick your targets. Your friends told me about you. How you hurt people.” She folded her lips and turned away. 

Brian huffed. “That’s different…”

“Is it?”

“Look if this is about Tom…”

“It’s not about Tom! It’s about me.” She pressed her hand to her chest, pleading for him to understand. “There’s only a little difference… a little difference between him and me. He was fine! He was human just… barely over the line and then it’s okay to use your strength on him because he’s a monster, and I’m a ‘goddess’! He’s a bad elephant and I’m…” Her eyes unfocused. She stopped talking suddenly.

“You’re a good elephant Ru’YI.” Brian said. He wanted to calm her down. He wasn’t sure what precipitated this sudden emotional outburst but her manner, her ramblings, it wasn’t right.

“Then why was I raised on an island?” She shook her head. “No…” Her smile returned, but it was bitterly cynical. “You know. I thought coming to Cassell I could be myself. I could … let loose and do whatever. But the truth is… even among the Cassell students I’m not… they’re scared of me. You’re scared of me. That’s... ”

“Ru’Yi. I think you need to just take a deep breath and talk to someone. Dr. Miranis maybe? I think maybe you can call out.”

Ru’Yi’s lips pulled down. “Maybe. If I were to… be myself… would you still like me?”

“What do you mean, be yourself?” He tilted his head. “Aren’t you always yourself?”

Ru’Yi shifted her gaze behind him. The light was suddenly bright in the corridor. Brian turned and saw brilliance beaming into the hall through the thick glass portholes, like the clouds that had hung over the ship for days had suddenly parted and the skies were clear. The glow intensified, until he had to squint and then…

The ship lurched to one side with a deafening bang. The hull shook violently, throwing both him and Ru’Yi into the bulkhead. Bright red strobe lights activated and an ear rattling siren blared.

Brian rushed to Ru’Yi’s side. “Are you okay? You’re okay?”

She nodded, looking dazed. An announcement came over the speaker. “All hands to battlestations! Battlestations!”

“Stay down here!” Brian shouted and dashed through the hall. He was joined by a crowd of West Africans who pounded up the metal stairs to the decks.

Outside on the Aido Hwedo, sliding panels opened to reveal turrets. The ship bristled with them like the quills of a porcupine. Brian hurried to one of them and looked outside into the open air.

The ocean boiled hundreds of feet below him. In the distance, the air was filled with tiny black dots. They fell from the swirling clouds like rain and swarmed wildly like flies. When the lightning flashed, eyes illuminated in the dark.

“Servitors?” Briant left the turret and ran back the way he came, towards the women’s barracks. But Ru’Yi was gone.

“What are you doing here?” An angry faced woman shoved a heavy automatic rifle into his hands. “Get up on decks and start shooting before we’re overwhelmed!” He was carried along by a river of soldiers on their way up to the flight deck. He looked over his shoulders, scanned every face, looking for large brown eyes and a curly cascade of hair.

Coming up onto the flight deck, he was immediately greeted by the roar of the engines. A fighter jet sped down the runway, dropped off the edge, and then lifted up into the air. “Go! Go! I want all the planes active!” A man in a yellow jumpsuit and ear protecting headphones was shouting. “Next plane next-”

His voice was cut off when he was slammed to the deck, a black, jagged thornlike spike protruding from his back.

Brian looked up and saw the hailstorm black bony javelins making a deceptively slow arc. There were hundreds, maybe thousands of them.

Brian shouted and called forth a burst of air to collide with the projectiles. Repelled, they sprayed in all directions, sliding across the flight deck. “Take cover!”

The Aido-Hwedo fired back, the turrets on the sides lit up like firecrackers and filled the air with a haze of gunsmoke. Winged servitors fell to the deck from where they had been hidden in the clouds.

Their bodies were black. Their heads were covered with a bony armor that ended at a point in front of their faces, like a beak that would never open. From under this skull plate, their eyes burned with visible dancing flames. It was like their entire skull was actively burning. Their wings were multiple bony appendages, some had four, others, six, but their bodies were skeletal. The ridges of their ribcage hung over nothing but an empty spine, their tails were held together by little more than skin.

When they charged they left gouges in the concrete flight deck. One had looked at him, took one step and leaped, its wings opening, sending it into a glide.

Brian lifted the rifle, took aim and sent a short spray of bullets that rattled its neck and head. The wings folded and it fell so hard the concrete splintered under it. Brian looked at the rifle again. It seemed normal, but those bullets hadn’t been stopped by what was clearly a heavy and durable body armor.

His mind went back to Aaron’s inquiry into the alchemical prowess of the West African hybrids. Turns out his curiosity was warranted. 

Together with them, Brian formed part of the guard in front of the stairway to the lower decks. He took aim and shattered one beast that was galloping down the runway. He turned and shot another climbing up to the deck from the hull.

He felt an eddy in the wind and lifted his head to a flurry of dark wings. He swept the barrel up only to be crushed under the heavy weight of the servitor.

He heard the other soldiers screaming and the rifle fire. And then he was hauled to his feet. “You okay?”

He looked into a dark face and bright whites of eyes. “Yeah.” He retrieved his rifle.

Then he saw the symbol on the man’s chest. He was an officer. “Which one are you?”

“I am not one of the twins.” He chuckled, sliding another round in his rifle. “First company, overhead! Second, forward and flank!” He roared over the noise.

The soldiers knew what to do, half of them pointed their rifles upward for overhead threats while the rest focused on shooting on those that fell from the sky. But Brian spotted one on the deck that dropped off when he shot at it. Others were doing the same.

“They’re leaving the deck!” Brian shouted.

“We’ve got something else!”

“Look!”

Brian shifted his eyes upward and froze. The dark wood hull of an ancient ship was coming down from out of the clouds. It slid from the hurricane as though on rails and sailed over the Aido-Hwedo. 

It wasn’t the only one, but he could see that these dark ships weren’t just targeting the Aido-Hwedo. In the bright flashes of lightning, he now saw the shadows of other ships far away, almost near the horizon.  Had the ghostly ships not directed his attention to them, he would never have seen them. They were partially obscured by the heaving waves and looked like toys in the distance.

The roar of the fighter jet engines were suddenly close. They made passes at the flying ships initially but circled back, got in formation and fired.

Figures abandoned the ships to their fate as falling debris, leaping onto the deck of the Aido. They were giants, at least eight feet tall and covered with rusty colored armor plating. Masks covered their faces and horned helmets sat on their heads. One in particular landed with a heavy thud and stood the tallest among them. In his hands were two sharpened sickles.

Behind that mask, his eyes glowed yellow. He cut the air with the sickles sending a whiplike lightning arc towards the soldiers. In an instant, they were down, twitching, their bodies smoking with the heat of the electric charge. Then that beast of a monster ran at them, scattering those that remained like ninepins.

He hand seized one by the neck and tossed him into the air. With no one and nothing to catch his fall, he landed flat on the concrete while this creature was already moving on to his next victim. The bullets were landing but melting into his armor like simple rivets. He was shielded from the alchemical effect. If anything, the thin layer of metal that was forming on the surface of his chest plate made him more powerful.

Brian once again called for his winds and sent them flying at the monster, they hit him but he barely moved, leaning into it with rugged determination. The combination of the weight of his body and the weight of his armor anchored him. Brian felt the icy spike of fear when the creature chuckled and the lightning flashed from his sickles.

Brian’s world went black.

[belafujoshisdead]

Occasionally, Nina will manifest a halo; when she does, it’s one of the final signs indicating that her body is about to explode into full-on divine horror. Her halos never look the same way twice, though their forms are influenced by whatever form Nina’s about to take. Her halo might appear as a circlet of burning blood; a flurry of glowing white eyes; an interlocking circle of tongues studded thornlike with fangs; a wide-bursting ring of green hellfire that scythes across the face of the planet -

[sanctuaryinbetweencrossroads]

Haunze Worldbuilding: Bestiary #4

Wacchtier

The Wacchtier is according to Haunzian folklore a chimerical creature that proliferated in medieval art, architecture, and woodworking. It has a semi-humanoid face, four upcurving tusks where the upper canines on its nose-bridge cross over eachother, the body of a lion, a thin blacked-haired mane, a barbed tailtip resembling that of a thistle bulb, and clawed feet with five digits; its forefeet are semi-humanoid too with hooked nails. Its belly and feet are covered by golden brown scales. The coat pattern of its pelage consists of large, irregular, jagged dark grey-brown to black blotches separated by grey-brown, thornlike bands. Their eyes are always golden yellow.

Wacchtier were in the medieval period thought to protect the building or the bed from harmful creatures and/or harmful people that might be a threat. They'd either frighten them away or fight them. At night they'd come to life and protect while one is asleep and vulnerable. As the sun rises the Wacchtier resume their place once more to serve as guardians during the day. Medieval illustrations of wacchtier show that they are often depicted in combat with black insectoid creatures. Older source often speak of the animosity between the two creatures and that they were mortal enemies.

In the beginning of the Republic Age, however, the Empyreal Ecclesia officially degreed them to be symbols of heresy which resulted in many of the decorations being destroyed. Only a few examples have survived.

[azure-thorns]

putting this over here (so i think just you get to see it mar hi bby)

This is about Ophelia, my half-fae character that was originally placed into Diasomnia but has since transferred to Heartslabyul (none of which is terribly important but maybe bc the whole structure of heartslabyul may be a big part of the reason, when you dont also consider that she’s dating Cater)

SO.

putting a cut here because its gonna delve into some self harm stuff and i dont want to trigger anyone

Ophelia has a very ragged scar around her throat, thornlike patterning.

(which plays into what i THINK IS HER UNIQUE MAGIC? I think its gonna be a kind of binding magic, thats made up of thorn vines that keeps whoever she directs it at bound so they cant do anything)

BUT

I’m thinking she used her UM at some point (probably in her first or second year) to try and kill herself. So I think my hc is that Lilia found her, and stopped her from going through with it and all her self harm ways. I’m still trying to figure it out but I think that she got into BDSM (bc of Lilia) bc he taught her how to use it as a way to cope with what she was going through. It gave her structure and purpose (in being His.)

SO feeling ‘owned’ and belonging to Lilia i think helped her deal with her emotions and the things she was going through. She has a lot of self consciousness and self loathing (even now that she’s a magicam influencer.)

He got her into the lifestyle, as her extremely caring and kind (but strict) Dom who helped her deal with her issues (as much as he could, usually jus tkeeping them in check)

[godsickk]

what if nina sometimes generates a halo & it’s pretty much always a sign that she’s about to explode into full-blown godly horror. & what if it manifests differently depending on what kind of form she’s about to take. maybe sometimes it’s a circlet of burning blood. sometimes it’s a flurry of glowing white eyes. sometimes it’s an ever-burning orbiting ring of green hellfire, or an interlocking circle of tongues studded thornlike with fangs

[lactiflcra-blog]

“ my heads a burial ground of your memory ”

[[ album meme. echos. ]]

𝑫𝑨-𝑮𝑬:

a chill down his spine, winding as a constrictor around its prey though it was invisible before him, though the diminutive form of the chief cultivator (different than the broad-framed warlord of the nie clan who stood before him, held held high and a stalwart pride radiating from the centrifugal force: from the head of the qinghe nie clan. 

❛  should i be flattered that da-ge thinks so often of me? ❟  rolled the thick words from the tongue that had spoken many a tale, many a lie, much of which should never be believed (and by one so wise as nie mingjue, wasn’t; few saw through him as readily as those sharp eyes pierced his every farce:) ❛ or do you have more vitriolic weight behind your words? ❟

–his ‘eldest brother’ had expressed some bit of fixation with earmarking every defiance, and every sin, he cast his stones before him and somehow the lies continue spinning, so woven and elegant and beautiful that many, if not all, found it easier to watch the glint of golden sun on the intricate tapestry of lies that wedge in and seek the truth. thornlike was nie mingjue, digging in deeper with every breath.

and yet still, the chief cultivator’s lips played at a smile.

❛ what misstep of mine is worth remembering today? ❟

[mousegard]

Ghost in the Machine, Chapter 47: Premonition

It is the 120th Century CE. Two android soldiers, 2B and 9S, at last find sanctuary from endless war and heartbreak in a hidden, inescapable kingdom of monsters beneath the surface of the Earth. But the world they left is never far behind them...

Chapter 47: Undyne's well-earned sleep is interrupted by a horrible vision and a portent of a possible future.

“She and Father were cut from the same cloth,” Chara said, their footsteps squelching against the puddle of blood pooling across the floor as they drew nearer, crouching down and laying their hands on top of Undyne’s, their fingers curling over hers, upending her hands so she could see her ashen palms. “I know this must be hard for you, Undyne. Beset on all sides by disloyalty… a captain, mutinied against by every member of her precious crew.”

“No.”

“Asgore betrayed you. Gerson betrayed you. Toriel betrayed you. They betrayed all of us, turned their backs on the best hope for this kingdom, to soothe their guilty consciences and justify their cowardice.” Chara pressed closer, the weight of their chest on Undyne’s back holding her down.

“And 2B and 9S betrayed you, too, Captain,” Chara whispered. “9S broke his promise to you. He murdered people you have sparred with and shared drinks with—comrades and brothers-in-arms. And 2B abandoned you, slept in peaceful repose like a princess in a fairy tale, when you needed her more than ever.”

As they crouched down, Chara’s violet robes pooled around them. “Asgore was my father. And he was like a father to you, too, right?” They tugged at the flower covering their eye and pulled it out, a long stem soaked with blood trailing behind it. A bloody tear crawled from the burned, empty socket down their rosy cheek.

“We have a shared duty, Undyne. Adopted children of royalty, bound not by blood, but united with a common purpose!” Chara reached out, and the sharp, thornlike end of the flower’s stem pierced Undyne’s eyepatch and slid into her eye.

Read the rest on Archive of Our Own

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[the-earth-ghoul]

Closed starter @sister-nora

He was restless when he walked out to the gardens, unsure of why but needing to walk, to try and push away some of the nervous energy that plagued him, feeling it buzzing in his veins. He sat down on the stone bench beneath the wysteria, eyes cast towards the stars, and then a jolt of pain hit and he realized.

Fuck.

He didn't have a lot of time to contemplate that he'd somehow missed the signs that he was going to shift, that he hadn't managed to sequester himself somewhere safe, before he was falling off of the bench to his hands and knees and heaving as his body twisted against him, retching up his dinner and spitting into the dirt as his back cracked and contorted, leaving him crying out in a high, pained keen.

Claws shot from hands, thornlike spikes tore from his arms and spine and fangs sprung in his mouth, tearing his lip open in the process. He stood up and stumbled a few feet as his hide darkened to black and green mottled scales, the color of moss, and the fork on his tail elongated to a dagger point. Hunt. He needed to hunt. He heard footsteps somewhere to his right and his head snapped around, saliva dripping from half-open maw.