#Zail
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Zail and Whisp
Gift for @hegurgurk of our DnD besties, and an armor concept for Zail :]
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#234: Unwilling Enemy
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Oh right, it's still a blood moon...
This page took AGES. Both to write and to make. So, a fun fact about THAT panel: the silhouette of Green Citadel there is actually a modified version of a screenshot of the in-game build on the map screen. Oh, and yeah I really did reuse the background from page 191. If it ain't broke, eh?
#terraria#webcomic#mysta’s terrarian quest#mtqcomic#234#chapter three#mysta#eth#nelun soma'o#kopo#zail
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On Samuel's first zee voyage he took enough wounds on an island to tip him over to 8, so he just collapsed and died the instant he climbed back into his boat.
On Samuel's second zee voyage he immediately made himself and his entire crew unaccountably peckish by accident, stopped at an island for food and instead got savaged by frost moths, and after several more unfortunate encounters was killed and eaten by his desperate crew.
HES DOING GREAT
Anyway ive been having a great time zailing and also i thought he might look good in the hat, so have some sketches from my ill-fated zee travels!!
#fallen london#shazz art#fallen london oc#fl: the bloodstained deacon#art#coloured sketches#hes much better at zailing now hes ready for a boat full of explosives
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i said i thought of a zee card for @capn-twitchery's twitch and i will deliver!
A card drawn with Very Infrequent frequency (half as common as Standard), anywhere at zee, but only with troubled waters 3 or less and at least one level of Acquaintance: the Epicurean Captain. (also it's discardable)
Accompanied by the Epicurean Captain is a boon! It disappears when you dock at a port which clears Troubled Waters, and adds a little text about Twitch disembarking with a cheery "ciao!" and disappearing into the crowds.
#sorry for saying i had an idea and then not telling you what the idea was lmao#i hope my twitch dialogue was acceptable#anyway i quite like this concept but the numbers probably need tweaking#i loooove playing with zailing speed but it's a sensitive dial yknow#custom fl stuff#fallen london
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Captain's Log 24th December, 18XX: Lacre thick. Visibility poor. Setting course for the Salt Lions. Harpooned a fleshy sea beast on approach. Crew will enjoy sharing a Christmas feast with the Unmakers.
#fallen london festive fanart competition#fallen london#neathmas at zee#yes hello zailing is my favourite part of the game
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Zails the Zone Cop NSFW Headcanons
Zails x Reader
NSFW Headcanons
Short Concept
Potential ⚠️TWs⚠️ :
Both reader+character are of legal age or aged-up for obvious reasons in this post!
These are smut headcanons, read at own risk. !Female!dom!Reader+sub!Zails • Eating his darling out • Drooling/salivating • He gets a bit rabid with it
Ah, wowie. Zails getting himself a girlfriend? I thought it would never happen... but let me tell you that Zails is truly one of the most hopeless and desperate variant of Tails that exists. He would be so needy for constant affection and reassurance, but he'd also be quicker to grow a lot more ...horny than the rest of the bunch. Even if he constantly has his grabby fingers all over you, a singular touch from you can easily trigger his sensitive nerves, leaving him an aroused mess.
And if you gave him permission to taste your cervical fluids? That is 111% the worst idea I’ve ever heard in my life and you absolutely should do it because it would absolutely shatter Zails the best way possible. He would instantly fall and completely melt into a drooling mess and beg you for a chance. He’s not used to those sweet, sweet fluids and he is absolutely not stopping until he has to be pried off of your body with a crowbar. He would be in pure ecstasy and nobody would be able to separate him from you anymore.
It would be the worst thing Zails has ever felt, and he wouldn’t be able to think straight anymore due to how much he would enjoy it. He’d be making pathetic groaning noises and his leg would shake uncontrollably. You would be his whole world at that moment, he wouldn’t even hear it if there was a volcano exploding outside his house. There would be no way for him to recover from that at all.
Tell him to not dare disappoint you while does the deed.
Cause that, my friends, would be the end of everything for Zails because that would literally be the final blow. His legs would go numb from the ecstasy as he softly moans into your entrance, tongue working overtime just to enjoy the sweet and divine taste. His mind would become completely flooded with hormones that would leave him absolutely dizzy. His whole world has been flipped upside down and he would NEVER recover from this.
He’d be so weak-minded that he wouldn’t be able to think of anything else but making you feel satisfied as his eyes would roll back and moan louder into you, not wanting it to stop. He would be completely addicted to the taste, and the sound, and the sight of the whole thing. His tongue deep inside of you getting every drop of nectar he can. I can see his tongue would become more desperate with its movements to try and taste even more of you. Becoming more vocal as it reaches deeper into your body, his tongue being in this hot, moist and tight claustrophobic space, with juices soaking his already wet tongue.
And by the time he reaches that level of desperation, he’d be nothing short of rabid. His tongue would move at rapid pace as he just tries to get more of every single drop, his brain just melting to the point he feels like a drooling animal. And the more he gets the more desperate he becomes, he would feel your hands on his back and he would get more desperate. He’d start licking anywhere you touched him, just praying for more. His body is nothing more than a shell anymore.
Which is the perfect comparison honestly, he’d be acting like he was on death row and this was his last meal before dying. He would be lapping up everything like a dog that wasn’t fed for weeks. And if you decided to actually allow yourself to climax, oh lord, that would be the biggest shot of pure ecstasy he could ever experience. It would absolutely break him to the bone. He would feel like he didn’t deserve to live for being able to experience that kind of blissful experience.
You'd have a grip over his tongue since the start of the interaction, and it would get progressively tighter until it would become unbearable. His breathing would get heavier and he’d start to moan so loudly, but you could definitely make him feel the lowest he could possibly be. He’d be trying to reach a deeper level while you can enjoy every moment of him being helpless in your grasp, sitting on his face once he’s ready to burst.
Zails would absolutely need a full body suit just to keep all the drool in his mouth because he’s actually just a mess of an entity at this point. He’s nothing short of a starving animal in heat who would have no care about being overstimulated. And if you were to let out a sound that even remotely resembles a moan, he’d be a goner. He’d go insane on you and you may as well just be giggling the whole time over him melting and making a mess. He is completely broken at this point. All it takes is a single sound.
And that, I think, would cause his mind to completely snap. He would be completely overrun by his own emotions and be in complete euphoria, yet so filled with desire too. He would reach a point where even days after the experience, he will literally be begging for you to let him drink from your fountain of life again. You would not only see the desperation in his eyes, but you could feel it in his entire being. And his body would be shaking all over, as if in a fever, unable to contain all of that need inside ever again.
A need he didn't even know he had.
#zails the fox#zails the zone cop x reader#zails#zails x reader#zails the zone cop#sonic smut#sonic x reader#sonic the hedgehog x reader#tails x reader#tails smut#sonic comics x reader#sonic comics#sonic the hedgehog
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There are two kinds of zailors.
Based on a discussion with @capn-twitchery about Twitch and Ockham's very different relationships to zailing.
#my art#ockham#even if pressganging and war on the sea hadn't done it#then the absolute shenanigans evolution put ockham through would have been the final straw#that story may or may not even be canon because you would NOT get himherthem to do half the stuff in that storyline#and i mean the zailing#hitching a ride on twitch's boat would probably seem like a good idea at first#until heshethey experienced the sheer chaos of twitch at the helm#ockham ref
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It is very funny that if you get dined upon at zee your crew kills and eats you and you have your little jaunt on the slow boat and then on returning to London you just go and find the same goddamn crew. The world's most awkward reunion. "Hullo lads, I trust I tasted delicious, hope your return to London didn't wreck my ship. Now then, back to it!" At least they're properly apologetic.
#fallen london#i may have to choose the 'dined upon' death every time it's an option#just for the humour of getting continually eaten by the crew and yet always zailing with that same crew
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who is the scoundrel? I see you posting about them(it? Idk) all the time but I haven’t figured out who they are
my fallen london OC! i made them by accident a few months ago and as you can tell ive very quickly developed scoundrel brainrot. it's a terminal illness for which there is no cure and the symptoms are instead of brain there is scoundrel.
in terms of actual character rundowns, their full moniker is The Bandaged Scoundrel, though i tend to call them "the scoundrel" for short. their real name is D█████, but they'd sooner die permanently than respond to or even acknowledge its existence.
they are! a bastard! a rat! a son of a b___! a motherf______! they are vain beyond your wildest imagination and they think they're the most infallible perfect being in all of existence and they have the exact attitude of a saturday morning power-hungry cartoon supervillain on cocaine.
and also, perhaps most importantly, they're Really Fucking Stupid. because of course they are.
they are resplendently awful. they are inevitably going to cause their own demise in an act of pure karmic retribution. they are a speck of dust in history that desperately keeps trying to insist they're actually a tornado. i love them dearly.
in loose conclusion while also acknowledging ive explained literally nothing; my goofy silly victorian london browser game player character that deserves to get timetraveled against their will to the 21st century specifically so they can get hit by a truck
#also their pronouns and gender are whatever you feel like that day#i usually use they/them or it/its for simplicites sake#ask#fallen london#im not gonna do the rundown on what FL is again bc ive answered asks abt it like twice already so you can look in the tag on my blog#all you need to know for the purposes of The Scoundrel is that it's an oc creation simulator with a few extra steps#i used to have an oc directionary post.. i should probably make a new one at some point. i post a ton about the fuckers anyway#other scoundrel trivia facts im not including in this post so it doesnt clog dashboards forever:#-their ethnicity is unknown but likely german or french#-they get comical levels of seasick on boats and absolutely despise zailing despite loving the profits of being a pirate#-they probably pay absurd amounts of money just to get the flowers in their hair from the surface#-the bandages cover every single part of their body except their face. they hate covering their face. they want everyone to admire them#they wear bandages all the time in such vast quantities for Other Reasons.#probably ranging from 'got sent to the tomb colonies so much they dont bother taking it all off' to 'wrote correspondence on their arm'#-their eyes are violant because they dipped them. In It. so they wouldn't forget a certain... Event involving cricket#they're really really normal.#also yes i doodled this chibi just for this ask bc im insane#if you ever wanna know more/get a proper answer just ask. im always foaming at the mouth to discuss my ocs
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Day 1: JOMPBPC: February Goals
My immediate TBR for February, 2024! 💜
#justonemorepage#jompbpc#february goals#february 2024#immediate tbr#disclosure#michael crichton#nerra#deep time traveller#tasma walton#samantha cambell#prince caspian#the chronicles of narnia#c.s. lewis#i am change#suzy zail#beautiful books#amazing authors#pretty flowers#charlotte dubois#princess tiana#i love books
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where is it. where is the sacristan
#get back in your chair you giant bastard#also i don't wanna think about what they're actually eating#forcing twitch to zail back and forth so i can read all the dream snippets#flondonblogging#if the sacristan doesn't even appear in the dreams nobody tell me i want firsthand disappointment
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Character Sheet: Zaïl
Hey, it’s Zaïl! I wasn’t planning on giving them a character sheet so soon, but I did it anyway. Obviously there isn’t much I can put on it yet without spoiling the story... but there are still some neat non-spoiler details I was able to slot in. Like, I don’t think anyone would’ve guessed at their age.
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#fallen london#hardly queensberry rules#brawl with the monks#zailing#out of context#tankard#martial arts#wine
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A peaceful walk between friends :)
#chao#chao garden#chao world#sth#sonic#sonic adventure 2#sonic adventure 2 battle#hero chao#sega#sonicteam#Zails#Fauna#Spinch-San
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FBG moving into their boon era made me think about other potential uses for them, and it gave me this idea! a very infrequent card which you can encounter anywhere in the zee, unlocked with Renown: The Docks 25 and no Blessed by the Zee:
and the resulting boons:
#is this balanced?#probably not quite#i've wanted to do something that buffs zailing speed for a bit#it's just a cool idea i think#custom fl stuff#fallen london
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"A Ticket To..."
@caperingcryptid @fallenlondonficswap
For my part of the Secret Swap! Hope you enjoy!
"A Ticket To..."
A brief look into a Captain of a Tramp Steamer, ferrying passengers across the Unterzee. Inspired by the (maybe singular?) woman and Steamer that has safely ferried nearly all of us to Polythreme and back, at least once.
General : Zailing, NPC Zee-Captain, Polythreme (Briefly), Elder Continent (Briefly), Unnamed PC Death
(1177 Words)
The Charmed Captain knew her job.
Sell tickets at a stiff price, and ferry those that could afford the tickets (and the occasional stowaway) from London to the exotic land of Polythreme, and back again if they so paid, on the most reliable ship the Unterzee ever knew. Few took travelers this way, and fewer still continued the charter business after the first trip ‘round, if they even survived that first go. The private ships fared better on the whole; Pleasure-Yacht horns rang loud in the skulls of her crew as they zailed back, complimenting the spray of zee-foam soaking every cloak from the Swift Clippers.
Worst of all were the Zubmarines. For how expensive the bloody things were, and how their owner’s bragged, one would think they’d learn to stop dinging into the hull of honest ships at some point, but the Captain knew better than to expect a change. Just grit her teeth, and order the latest stowaway to – and yes, she means you in the back, the Longshanks with a guilty look in his eyes – to make himself useful, and go hammer out the dent, and maybe they’ll be rations enough for him after all.
The Captain knew better than to be jealous, however.
Her Tramp Steamer, simple as it was, was as charmed as she was. Far more than those she shared the zee with, at the very least. Oh, sure, the technician within the Zubmarine could dive beneath the Wax Wind with ease, but she always held back the tug of a smile as they zailed past the floating wreckage, the shattered remains of hull-collapse, the ship lost with all hands. And no jealously lived within her heart as the Steamer roared past the Swift-Zee Clipper, her ship churning up the mirror-smooth water their captain had just slipped into moments before. Her austere almost always failed with the Yacht, though. That paragon of opulence, luxury, and wealth, impaled by a chunk of flint-sharp glim? It was almost too good to be real.
They saw the Fathom King, in the end. The Charmed Captain never had. They’d come and go, and come again, through whatever deal they’d struck with His Complexity, but she needed no deal. No machinery, no finery, no speed. Just luck. Just favor, though she didn’t consider herself plenty faithful. Just a charmed fate, it seemed.
Her Tramp Steamer zailed from London to Polythreme, and little ever changed. No feral crocodiles ever threatened her crew in the relative quiet of Home Waters, unless there was a revered Monster-Hunter coincidentally on board to spear the beast with bone-notched harpoon moments before disaster. The Northern Wind never howled, lest everyone onboard had remembered to pack for false-winter, with Neathproof jackets and gloves and books to don and endure with.
The Wax-Wind of the South only blew on them when the deck was empty, and died out with the first head that popped up from the hull, or out from Captain’s Quarters – and, she’d noticed, it wouldn’t blow at all unless some daft Archaeologist or Baronet had decided to treat her ship a brothel, in which case the wax was more than welcome come one’s turn to sleep, to plug ears and block out the sound. And, luckiest of all, the talking ships of the Sea of Voices had yet to successfully engage her own Steamer in their desperate, lonely conversations, no matter how they moaned and whistled.
Well, aside from the one time, but her Charmed little Steamer hadn’t spoken a word since. A fluke, of course. Nothing to concern herself with. Even if her whistle sounded almost like a song, every time the whistle blew. Even if the whistle had begun to blow by itself, each one crying out in a melody all too familiar to the Captain’s memory.
For unrelated reasons, it wasn’t long after that when the Captain chose to branch out her offerings. Charter somewhere else, perhaps. Apis Meet was becoming a popular destination, after all, or so she heard.
The old girl was getting complacent, traveling the same current, week after week. Seeing the same dark patches of zee, the same floating lifeboats, the same zailing and suken ships drifting by on the dark lapping waves. It would do the Tramp Steamer some good, to try something new. Something to distract such a fine vessel from her whistling and singing and life-becoming. Keep her simple, and charmed, and keep them both safe.
And, for the Captain, the pay was more than worth it. She’d even given up her own cabin, to the poor overpaying sap.
It wasn’t a regular route, but it was often enough to keep the whistling at bay. And it was charmed, just the same. Off to Port was the scattered remnants of some doomed vessel, a hull just like the Steamer’s own, coated in still-hot wax, kept afloat by the very thing that destroyed it. And yet, her passengers pestered one another into improvised games of quoits, while another pair spoke of the Fathomking as if he paid homage to the Presbyterate. There was no recreation of Hyacinthus, no splash of wax or wave of cold zee-water to punish their insolence, not even when boredom gave way to chess and cards, and strings of profanities from the loser that would make the Admiral blush.
No punishment. And no whistling from the Tramp Steamer, either.
Just tall tales, and idle reading, when they docked at Apis Meet.
The Charmed Captain never doubted it for a moment, of course. Hundreds of trips ‘round the Unterzee in her career, by this point, and nothing had ever gone wrong. Why would it start now? It would never start, no matter what route she took. No matter where her charter took her.
She left the Meet as evening came to a close, ferrying her passengers away, back to the London they so knew, fighting the waves with well-traveled experience. She never arrived late, after all. Every leg of the journey always arrived on time, just in time. Sometimes, even early, if a particularly fated passenger happened to be aboard.
All the same. Always the same, no matter how routine this route had become. The screams of Polythreme, and the Light of the Elder Continent, were both just facts of life, now. Nothing to jump at. Nothing to worry over.
Just like the whistling that began overhead. Not melodious – a harsh sound, like a sneeze held in for far too long, finally let loose, finally freed from the light that held the life at bay. For her part, the Captain smiled as she shook her head.
To Hell with it. A Singing Steamer was probably just as charmed as the rusty old thing had been before, after all. She’d likely be just as fine a zeefaring vessel, all things considered. Still safe, reliable, and secure, from London to Polythreme, and back again.
And the occasional charter south, when the Charmed Captain could stand to go a week without a familiar whistling from the most honest ship in the Unterzee.
#fallen london#ficswap#fanfic#dame's writing#saw the zailing on the 'things i enjoy reading' and i had just gotten emery off of the charter ship#and had to go with the idea~#alt jokey description - a cool lady watches your pcs die. then makes fun of them. then her boat gets even cooler cause she's better than yo
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