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#but i just don't have that unending desire to draw them
toaster-fire-art · 1 year
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I want what they have
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yaut-jaknowit · 6 months
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Gawtin x fem Reader
Immortal reader (similar to dark souls 2) dresses up like ancient Egyptian. Gawtin journeys to this planet to find worthy prey only to find it dead but many alive counters reader killing one of the bosses dies gawtin thinks she was was unworthy only for her to emerge from the gate of fog and fights the boss once again to succeed. They Incounter each by the reader thinking gawtin is a boss. Reader to win in the end Gaston acknowledges her they became companions then soon dating mages (?)
(Ignore this if u don’t wanna do it😻)
Life Comes Back
Paring: Gawtin x GN!Reader
Summary: Day in. Day out. Life. Death. You've experience every death possible. This is a cursed life by the gods. As you've grown accustom to this unfortunate life, you are faced with a new opponent you've never seen before.
Word Count: 4382
Author Note: I didn't know if you wanted me use this ask or the other so I decided to go with the one that's anon just in case. Thank you for responding and clarifying. I was trying my best to decphier what you wanted from me. Thanks for the ask! I'm also working on others and 'The Monarch' at the same time. Bare with me!
P.s. We've hit 1K followers!!! Thank you all for this wonderful achievement. Don't worry, I'll get to working on those smutty Vic'tao and Uihoy drawings!
Masterlist
Ao3
A cycle. An unending cycle. Life. Death. Everything between. You’ve gone through it all, experience more than ever before. You don’t know where you go nor do you remember what happens after your heart stops and the life fades from your eyes. Countless times, you’ve searched out, attempting to find your mangled remains before. Yet, there was nothing to find in the end. Not even the blood that had been spilt. All gone from existence as you reappeared once more.
Countless years ago, you remember the world as lush, green, filled with joyous life. People thrived and celebrated, happy as can be. Well, until Famine hit and ruined all to be.
Cries of despair were all that you remembered as the last sounds of your people made. Temples to the gods were starting to tremble and collapse. The upkeep far too hard for them to sustain as the mighty people of Egypt fell. Though, it wasn’t just them.
Every established colony or country fell like dominos. Just one after another before all that was left was you. The need for food or clean water was no longer desired. It felt as if your body became numb to all once you became alone on this planet you used to all home.
If you believed the loneness and never staying dead was bad, the creatures that crawled from the pits of the Duat. Monstrous, disgusting beings that killed everything in sight. Including others of their kind.
Like you, they where a never-ending cycle of kill and return. Every kill was never about food, not a single bite taken from the caresses. You don’t count when they swallow you whole as consume you for nutrients truly. It was just a way to kill you, not even swiftly either.
Despite the uselessness of it, you learned how to craft weapons from the metal of deserted cities you once lived in. Armor decorated your body and protected the best it could from any acid, fire, or smacking blows the monsters threw at you. Every time you lost, was a time to learn, to adapt further in this new, endless life. To better your weaponry and armor to protect yourself from them.
As this life went on, you wondered if this was some sort of punishment from the gods above. Why you, out everyone that had lived upon this planet, were chosen to suffer? You had no clue or a beginning to understand their reason. This was life that only gave hardships and cruelty in the wake of your existence.
When will be the day you could join all the fallen in the Field of Reeds? A peaceful ending.
The armor that adorned your body was heavy, uncomfortable. Some ends jabbing into your side as you traverse the land. Years on end have helped you study, learned the pattern of these creatures that hunted. Where they migrated, where they hunted at each time of the year or day.
Nights, cliché enough, were the absolute worse. Night is where you had to stay awake, rarely needing sleep anyhow. No wonder why your city believed you to be a goddess walking among their people. Night terrified you.
Day was okay. The light seemed to scare off the majority of the monsters back to the cracks or holes they wormed their way out of. Some didn’t seem affected by the change. Those were the blind ones. No eyes to spot their prey from miles away. Dangerous as they could be for sensing you, a tall structure or caves you or ancient people dug out helped. Anything too small for them to stick their grubby hands into and make you into a corpse. Not that you wouldn’t just reappear back on this planet in a shimmer of glittering sparkles.
As the sun fell, the ground trembled and groaned as it released the most dangerous of the monsters possible. With an exhausted, dead groan, you shimmed your way out of the hole and exposed yourself to the darkening sky.
Glittering sparkles, like the ones you create after you die, began to reveal themselves in the blackening sky. Khonsu’s moon, just a small sliver of the silver sphere. The time when the god is his high of power. You grinned lowly and stretched out your aching muscles. It had been some time since you’ve last been wiped off the planet for a short time.
Every time you were ‘reincarnated’, your body would feel like new, rejuvenated after a gruesome death. The pain that occurred every death was just annoying at this point. Yeah, it hurt. Once again, you have grown numb to this life and the suffering all it brought to you.
Dents and long scratches marred your armor. Your older skin has bright, fresh scars that will be gone the next time you reappear. You pulled on the straps of the gauntlet on your left arm for it to be firm against your skin. One wrong move can have you gone.
As the monsters all over the planet clawed and fought their way to the overworld, you prepared yourself for another night of fighting. The years have molded you to adapt to every situation possible. To every monster known to you and the gods. The quakes the earth bellowed begin to quiet and relax until all was calm. A false sense of security any rookie would fall into.
For your time alive, you believed you have seen everything. Everything humanly and monster-like possible. But the gods were cruel to you.
Either you’ve grown rusty from the lack of deaths these past few weeks, or the feeling in your stomach caught you off guard. An ambush had you trapped in the city you once lived with your family and friends.
Creatures that had big, consuming eyes stared at you. Their gnarly, inhuman arms that doubled the amount of limbs that you had carried their mishappened bodies. This type of monster hunted in packs, rare and unfortunate for you in your state.
The slight change in the air had you rolling forward. Talons, ready to sever you from the land of the living swiped at the spot you once were. You were back on your feet and facing the monster while you unsheathed your sword to defend yourself. A creature you’ve come to call the Nurok circled around you.  A move you knew. The Nurok tried to push you in the direction it just came, towards the others to jump you.
Years of experience aided you. Instead, you bullied it back towards a building on the verge of collapse. The attachment you felt to your decrepit city has long faded away from your heart. You armor protected you from the harsh attacks of the Nurok as you drove it back, back, back. All the way until it’s rump met the unstable wall. Carefully, you crouched down and grabbed the biggest rock you could fit into the palm of your hand. With all of your might, you chucked the stone at a spot that held of the majority of the wall.
Like a dam releasing water, the stone wall fell on top of the Nurok and effectively burying till it died. But, the battle wasn’t won.
Snarls and howls from its pack members were cried into the night as four other Nurok purposely lost their high ground advantage. Your face twice with a battle cry and charged at them, fed up with the beginning of the night.
Your sword, sharp and expertly sharpened whistled in the air. Each step pounded against the pathways that once filled with life and bustling people. People you loved and cared for.
Shin guards protected you in a slide underneath a Nurok and shoved your blade into where you believed to be its heart. The noise it gave would be heard for miles, drawing other monsters to the battle. You had to scramble out of the way before the thing came down upon you. The blade now coated in a sticky, black substance that reeked of rotting death. You’re numb to it.
A Nurok charged at you with its eight spidery legs that were angled at an unsettling way. You barely had time to throw up your sword to deflect it maw of razor sharp teeth and long tusks ready to gorge into you feeble body. Its black tusks clashed into the metal of your blade and pushed. Your muscles strained against its strength. The balls of your shoes slid over the stone pathway, effectively overpowering your human body.
From previous fights, your body screamed from lack of rest and constant work. It pushed you, straight towards what’s left of their pack. As a fight and survivor, you weren’t about to let them win this easily. You release a yell from the pits of your chest and rolled backwards.
It’s full weight was against your sword. At the change of force, the monster barreled over you and into one of its packmate. Both of them smashed into another building. Years of wear and tear with the force of two thunderous creatures brought the stone down upon them. Three down, two more to go.
Back on your feet, you faced off the last two Nurok that have yet to fallen. Sweat stuck to you like a skin second, armor feeling gross hugging to your body. Both uncomfortable feelings were snatched from within and shoved into the depths of your mind. Thoughts like could distract you, catch you off guard and kill you. Not that death was permanent when it came to you.
Your sword was still slick with black blood of the first Nurok. It had ran down the length of the metal coated your hands and hilt. You struggled to hold onto the leather bound hilt as you watched the two Nurok closely. Your chest heaving with deep breaths, beads of sweat falling down your face to pool around the collar of your shirt.
These things had no collective thought between them as they stomped after you. The only truly color you could spot in the low light of Khonsu’s moon was their red, distinctive eyes. Their spider like legs stabbed into the ground as they stole space between you and them.
You didn’t give them chance to attack first. Instead, you rushed them like a barreling bull. Like the goddess your people once thought you as, you dodged to one side only to feel tusks ram into the armor that protected your back. A surprise gasp tore at your throat. You were thrown into the air and crashed back down onto a stone pathway.
All the air that once filled your aching lungs was forced out. The best in the moment you could do was lie on the ground before your instincts snapped alive. You rolled out of the way of a sharpened foot and switched to a short sword. It cut clean through the Nurok’s leg, weakening it.
That wasn’t gone win you this battle though. You were back on your feet, ignoring the way your armor dug into your fleshy body more than usual. Your hands shook with adrenaline as you stared down the creatures. Then, you sprinted at it once more, ready for the battle to be over and done with.
A move that would cost you this life.
Despite the aching muscles in your leg, you leaped up into the air and held the sword far above your head. In a ready to strike position to defeat the second to last Nurok, you had unfortunately left yourself open for an easy attack. A lesson you would learn once you were reincarnated.
In slow motion, you watched as the Nurok reared up with a screech that could cause your ears to bleed. With its two front, shorter limbs, it stabs them through the air and piercing through the weakened armor near your belly. The usual pain that exploded from the unfortunate loss didn’t faze you much. You still fought like a cat backed into a corner, heaving your sword into its neck before everything went completely dark.
.
From her stance on top of a structure ready to collapse from the slightest movement, she observed the fight through the dark. Her mask aided her as she took note of the way this smaller earthling fought. Coordinated but not. As if it was self-taught without a proper teacher to guide them on the way to surviving a harsh, dangerous life.
Why she was here? Like many of her kind: to hunt and gather trophies. Her hunt sisters have spread about the planet to collect what they deemed worthy. She, on the other hand, has stopped to watch this event unfold before her.
The itch of the hunt boiled underneath her thick, scaly hide. A dark green which aided her in the forest but this was a desert. Dry and desolate. That she thought of.
Not this humanoid figure that fought viciously. If only she had gotten to it first. Its skull would be a fine addition to her collection back on her home planet. Now, unable to aid it to survive, all the hidden being could do was watch and wait. Patience was something she was first instructed to learn about. If you could not wait for your prey, you weren’t destined to be a hunter. That’s where younglings were divided.
Once the battle grew to a close, she saw something that would ruin everything. It did the first thing you weren’t supposed to. This solidified that it was self-taught by this last action.
These insect-like creatures took the open chance that this humanoid figure willingly gave. Two red tipped tusks were shoved through the metal of its armor. All it gave was a shortened, airily groan… like it was an inconvenience. With one last blow, the smaller being rammed its blade into the neck of its opponent.
Disappointment filled her chest as it fell limp on the tusks. Dead. A skull she could not retrieve. It was not hers for the taking. Her mandibles clicked against one another.
She began to stand and take her leave when glimmering night that lit up the street captured her attention. Bright, sparkling lights burst from her former prey and fell to the ground. She looked back towards the tusks only to find the armor left. Not a body nor blood.
Uncertainty filtered into her neon green blood. The being tensed up and unsheathed a blade, purple eyes scanning the area around her. Had the creature actually die or somehow have an ability to teleport? Once you’ve explored the universe a few times and seen many, many different aliens, anything was possible. Her mandibles chittered.
In a bright light, noks away from the former winners, a body formed from nowhere. Like a force unlike any other, it reappeared without a scratch and ready for this to end.
D’yeka.
Of all of her years as a hunter, mother, and explorer, Gawtin has never come across something like this. Like a newly blooded, she could only stand in bewilderment as this thing rushed them again. As if it didn’t just come back from the dead like Dhi’ki-de. This got her heart thundering through her ears as she wished for that fight to end so she could start her own.
.
In a birth of glimmering light, you appeared further down the street. In this new body, the old aches and pain were wiped away. All you were left with was the tone muscles you were glad to keep. Everything else, including armor and clothing had been abandoned, stuck to the creature’s face. The Nurok wildly shook its head to get rid of the offending article. All while the other stared at its pack member in confusion.
You used the opening to your advantage. Quiet, calm, you stalked up to them and swiped the first, longer sword from the ground while moving. Before either of them had a chance to notice you, you sheathed the sword in the side of one. The Nurok without the clothing on its face gave a screeching cry, alert its friend to the trouble.
With a grunt, you twisted the blade and shoved it further in to cause as much damage as possible. The thing gave one last croak before falling at your feet, gone like a light. You pulled the blade once more from it and stared down the last Nurok.
Out of all your time upon these grounds, you’ve never seen emotion from any monster. Either it was an illusion or trick of the eye, you believed to see a flash of fear within the blacks of its eyes. A snarl crossed over you face as pounced again for the last time. You struck and left the creature unable to think. One swing after another, cutting at its skin like meat.
The Nurok bellowed out a roar that rumbled the ground before lowering its head. A move you read within a second while the next you twisted out of the way. You shoved your sword once last time into the creature and watched as its guts spilled onto the ground. A heavy smell of death wafting up into the air, one you’re quite use to.
After it fell to its finally resting place, you marched over to its head and retrieved your shorter sword and weapons. The armor was, unfortunately, unusable. You would need to start over… again.
The hairs on the back of your neck stood up, your senses lighting up to another contender. The adrenaline that still filled your body rushed back in full force as you swiftly scanned the surrounding area. Yet, your search came up empty. Not another, living soul in sight. You couldn’t just shake off the feeling though.
Naked like the day you were born, you lugged your battered weapons to the smithery close by. Something stopped you though.
In a low shimmer of blue light, a humanoid figure revealed itself to the darkness of night. A monster you’ve never seen before. It’s body similar to yours in shape but its face covered by a mask of metal. Expressionless and cold. The main difference you first notice was the dark, possibly green that colored its skin.
Tonight has been dreadful, killed again. Now, with a new opponent stepping into the ring, you were irritated and grouchy. With either sword in your hands, you stared down the monster. And just stared, observed the soft rise and fall of its shoulders.
Then, it took a step forward. You reacted swiftly, like lightning. Your toes dug into the light dirt that coated the stone street as you launched yourself forward. It was your hardened instincts that drove you for survival. After the events today, you were on guard, ready to lash out on the dime at any movement.
That you did.
This thing wasn’t like anything you’ve met before. It raised its aforearm and blocked the downward lash you preformed and kicked out a leg at the same time. For the second time this day, the air was shoved from your lungs as you smashed into a structure behind you. Ringing in your ear began. You dropped down onto the ground in heap of pain and broken bones.
Blowing painfully through your nose, you rose back to your feet and gripped only one sword this time. The other lost during the flight over here. The monster looked like it hadn’t moved an inch from its spot. You huffed an amused chuckle with a smirk gracing your face.
Despite the pain this thing caused you in once kick, you marched back over to it. The creature morphed its stance to a fighting position. You stopped where you were and cocked your head for a moment before doing the same. This thing had intelligence. It was acting different compared to anything you’ve face before.
You felt the unfamiliar, cold, trickling feeling of fear run a path down your spine. The sword you welded trembled slightly, not from the adrenaline this time. Now, you had to think of strategies you hoped it didn’t know of. You had to plan this thoroughly. And survive.
It launched itself at you, faster than you could blink. A gasp tore at your throat as you rolled to the side to dodge the incoming attack. The second afterwards, you threw up the sword and blocked a deadly slash from three pronged weapons in either hands of it. The power behind its force was enough to rival the Nurok’s you just took down.
The ground aided in a sturdy backbone to keep yourself up as this figure attempted to kill you. This was nothing new. Just go through the motions.
And win.
One of your legs kicked out swift into the side of its knee. A harsh hiss sounded from its mask as the creature was forced to kneel down. A new opening revealed to you. One, you took. You lashed out with your blade without remorse. It was able to twist its body enough to only receive a glancing blow on the dark skin of its lower side.
Bright, glowing, green goo dribbled from the freshly opened wound. Your eyes widened at the sight. There wasn’t a single creature from the Duat that has ever bled this color before. What was this thing?!
Its own weapon came for you. Despite the size of it, it didn’t move like any monster you’ve seen before. This creature was better, faster, stronger than what you’re used to. You barely moved enough to only have one of the prongs jab into your side. The pain was nothing but a minor inconvenience. You unsheathed a small dagger in time to ram it into the figure’s arm.
A hiss and rapid clicks is all you got before its hand wrapped around your throat. You were lifted clean off of the ground and held before its eyeless gaze. The grasp tightened before you had a chance to even know what was happening.
This wasn’t the last time you would fail.
Like before, you appeared in a shimmering of bright glitter. Unfortunate for you, your weapons laid at the monsters feet. Deep down, you had a feeling it would not let you even get a chance to grab them. You cracked your neck and fell into a stance to entice the thing to walk away from them on the ground. Anything to let you get your weapons back. To make this a fair fight.
But… it kicked at the sword’s hilt and pushed it towards you. The weapon slid to a stop at your feet. Your eyes darted between the sword and the monster. This was a game you didn’t know how to win or play properly. You had infinite lives to survive but how long will this dance go on?
Time and time again, till Khonsu’s moon was chased away by Ra’s sun, you were killed more times you’ve ever fallen in a week alone. This last round, after you reappeared like any other time, you collapsed to your knees and looked up tiredly at your opponent. You could not die nor win against it. This would be an unending battle like your own life.
The figure walked up to you, feet entering your vision to stop in front of you. Defeated, you raised your tired head to gaze into the void of where its eyes should be. You were ready for it to bring down its own weapon to kill you all over again.
A green hand, a green that matched the jungle you’ve been too, entered your sight. The palm turned upright, its weapon gone. An offering.
After everything you’ve endured during this night alone, you just stared at the hand. A tired, exhausted look in your eyes. The creature curled its fingers in a ‘come here’ motion. Defeated, you placed your hand in its and was yanked to your feet. The blazing warmth of its scaly skin released its hold.
With both of its hands, it reached up to cup the mask it wore. Something you finally noticed in the morning light. That wasn’t it face but just a metal mask that adorn its face.
Two tubes were from the side of its mask, hissing like Nurok. Carefully, it pulled the metal away to reveal… something you weren’t expecting. From all the monsters that roam the overworld during the night, this thing wasn’t the ugliest. The purple of its eyes struck you hard. A color you haven’t seen for years.
You mouthed ‘wow’, attention captured by the beauty this figure held in such small orbs. Out of everything on this planet, this was the first time a monster stopped. Was this a sort of truce?
The longer the two of you stood there, you began to become nervous. This was different than anything you’ve ever experienced. A monster stopping to reveal its true face to you. Was this a horrible dream of peace for just a moment?
Now that it was day, the level of threat has gone down significantly. Yet, the blind, trickier critters now come out to prey upon you and each other. Then you realized, the monster hadn’t gone back down to the Duat. What was this thing? You didn’t know how to feel about this thing in front of you.
Then, it moved its arm. You reacted back jumping back and getting into a defensive position. Your heart thundered in your ears as you watched as it pulled something from a pocket. Calmly, it held out its palm with the item towards you. Timidly, you reached out and swiped it.
A pocket knife. Small, durable, and extremely sharp. You looked back up at the monster and dipped my head in appreciation. With it’s strange face, it lifted its mandibles into a smile and returned the gesture. Then, it turned and began to tapping at the gauntlet on its arm. Strangely enough, some bright and glowing red appeared. You gasped!
Magic!
As if your world couldn’t turn more upside down, something revealed itself hovering in the sky. By the gods! With the graceful leap of a cat, the monster jumped into an opening of this thing. One last look at you and it was gone.
And you thought you had seen it all.
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saijspellhart · 1 year
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okay I hope I don't sound rude and annoying, but if I ask you, "hey it seems like you haven't updated in awhile, and I was wondering of you were doing okay?" Are you alright with that? I just don't want to seem pushy in a sense and be all "update pls update update update" ya know
Love your fics and art, they are amazing! You've really inspired me to be a better artist and writer. Hope you have a great day/night
Hi hi! It’s alright to check in and see how I’m doing. I don’t mind that at all.
So my lack of updates has mostly been due to creative burnout. I took on a lot of commissions last year (a lot for me) and it really burnt me out as far as drawing goes and creating in general. So I ended up taking a hiatus from everything, and just chilling.
Which was a fortunate move because the last six months have been wild for me in terms of real life stuff. Like so many major issues keep sprouting up in my real life, and draining all my desire to create. To distract myself from real life probs and stresses I’ve been playing a lot of Pokémon, (I love the 3DS Pokémon games.) and watching a lot of movies.
In the interest of not bogging everyone down with my life woes I’m not gonna go into detail. Just, shit keeps happening and I’m weathering every blow of that storm. So instead I’ll tell you about some happy-ish things.
On a happy note, my little bro is coming to live with me. (Which preparations are a little stressful, but are also so exciting) I haven’t had consistent or reliable contact with my little bros in years, so this will be an amazing chance to get to know one of them. So excited.
My husband, Zack, has been a force of unending support and love and just… everything. No matter what has been thrown at us he’s been right there beside me finding solutions and working through it. Probably the best partner I could have ever asked for. And a big fucking sweetheart.
I might get promoted at work? Which I guess is nice, but also I don’t feel like I’m ready for it yet. So I’m scared. Work makes me feel dumb. Because learning insurance is hard, and I’ve never had an office job, and I learn from doing things myself and repetition. But also my memory is on par with a sea slug. I dunno. I both love and feel I intimidated by my job, and feel hella intimidated by the prospect of a promotion. I’ll have to learn so many new and complicated things. Lots more moments of feeling stupid in my horizon.
So yeah, just… a lot. I suppose the best answer is I’m not doing great?? But I’m also not in a major pickle. Nothing I cannot handle. I suppose the easiest thing to say is I’m weathering a life storm and simultaneously healing my creativity.
Thanks for the ask. And I hope my answer wasn’t too exhausting and wordy.
PS: I’m so honored to have been an inspiration to you! It means the world that my works can inspire others. Thank you so so much. ❤️
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pent-up-release · 2 months
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An Old Notebook of Mine
I'm gonna share some old writings/drawings from a notebook that i made roughly two / one year ago. I've grown a lot since then, but I am reminded almost daily that these thoughts that I have will and have returned. I don't think they'll go away; they are a part of me. But that's just it. They are a single facet of who I am, and while I shouldn't let it completely define me, I shouldn't deny it for the sake of anyone. They can be a little saddening so here's your warning. Though I don't really expect anyone here to actually read them lol, this is more for me to just get it out there instead of in my head.
Thank you.
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"It's a saying I've thought about quite often. No man is an island."
And yet in my most stressful moments, I meditate with the sounds of the ocean. I've gone to the beach a handful of a handful of times. It calms me to hear waves crashing against each other, the chaotic and endless ocean keeping itself in motion without end. Unpredictable and unyielding, itself the will of a higher celestial satellite. To compare my mind to its motions seems indecent, but it is after all my home; our home, where all life began.
I'm quite envious of water. Needed by all and yet so simple; everything I've always wanted to be. Since birth, I'm expected to be much more than that. I was to harbor intelligence, and participate in society's endeavors. Everything else was either a consequence of life or an emotion I couldn't understand.
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"Perhaps that was my first mistake; though to call the perceptions of a child a mistake feels inadequate."
Consequences of life? As if I chose to be here. Understanding emotions? As if I could ever be smarter than myself. Truly, I was misunderstood by not only others, but myself. I always felt incomplete, as if there was a secret being kept from me. How could everyone around me flow so fluidly, so naturally while the typhoon in my mind trapped me, not allowing me to speak freely, to experience rejection, to socialize, to be embarrassed... I would rather know certainties than to experience chaos in the real world.
"I felt less than human for so long."
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I deemed myself as unable to reach desires. Unworthy? I was to make myself useful to others and be out of the way otherwise. I was to do what I should.
"If I'm being honest (and present), I can't remember the last time I put myself first."
I would go so far as to convince my body and emotions that what I ought to think, to do, was what I wanted, that they were born from natural origins and not the abstractions of my mind. It fascinates me, still, that I believe there's a separation. Unable to break this divide, I believed I was broken.
I deserve to be alone, I thought.
Impossible from my very inception. Alone? I think in tongues, exchange breathes with greenery, expel waste that becomes the soil that renews life.
There was never any escape.
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"So why is it, I believed, that I never belonged, that I was above life itself?"
To some extent, I knew something was flawed in my tenets. It is one of the reasons I am still here after all. Even by the time I realized this, when the only question left for me was "What do you want to do?", I knew I had no energy left to find the answer. And why would I? When those who muster enough will to challenge society and its rules are violently forced to abide by them still? You could spend your entire life studying and warning of the world's end, only to be stopped by scum who own harsher weapons than you. Blessed are the meek, for the Devil's strength will bury you and your efforts.
I only wished to escape this unending sadness, this desolate world that favored greedy violence over compassionate resistance.
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How?
I thought . . . . .
I feel as if I am still relying on the mind I cultivated as a child.
(the following are extra writings I added later, separate from the previous rant)
Knowledge, as I've learned, is a cultivation. Each successive generation entrusts the wins and losses of the previous one.
I didn't ask to be here, I would repeat to myself. Unknowingly, this may have opened the door to entitlement, arrogance, and the misunderstanding that I was above all of existence. Why live when I didn't choose to?
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makarovspussy · 2 years
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I know that I don't count bc I'm your partner, but could you talk about some ideas for your CoD projects for #WIPWednesday?
;0;!!! You absolutely count!!! This is probably gonna be really rambly and disjointed. Also kind of long, so I'm sticking most of it under a cut. CW for mentions/discussions of death and abuse.
(also there's technically still an hour left in WIP Wednesday, at least in my timezone, so @onlycodcanjudgeme)
Honestly I've been fixating on Call of Honor hardcore rn so most of the stuff I have today are related to that. I'm now genuinely considering writing a High Chaos AU (because I love my convoluted multiverses lol), though it'll probably be shorter than canon COH (unless I decide to REALLY run with it) and I probably won't start actual work on it until I'm much deeper into COH.
Betrayal, grief, and trauma are themes that are pretty central to COH, as are trust, healing, and the importance of love (not like the weird amatonormative "romance fixes everything" sense, but like...family. Friends. A support system. Like these people probably could've gone through what they did alone but having a support system of genuine relationships with other people, friendly or familial or romantic or otherwise, is REALLY important to a lot of their growth and healing.) I feel like a High Chaos AU would kind of turn that concept on its head, and also everything is Worse. So that'll be fun.
I feel like I'd want to make a High Chaos AU really different from canon, too, even in terms of the events of the COD timeline. I was kind of playing with the idea of a Double Agent!Yuri AU (inspired by @saint-vulgaris!), because the concept is really interesting to me and I wanted to explore how drastically it would change the events of MW2/3. It kind of struck me to combine the two ideas so that the story is both darker and sufficiently different from the jump? Like, I was toying with the idea of Yuri being the one to kill Soap...but Soap doesn't know. He doesn't realize what hits him, just that he's dying and, in this AU, he's alone. Price isn't there to save him or even try to comfort him. So on top of the trauma he has in canon COH (dying a horrifying, slow death where his loved one was powerless to help him and he was robbed/robbed himself of the chance to say goodbye), he's also dealing with the highly specific trauma of dying an utterly disorienting, horrifically lonely death. Idk I think it would be really interesting to explore how the differences in how he died would affect his psyche in Dishonored 'verse.
I do have more ideas for them and I kinda wanna get into them but I'll save those for another post bc I wanna talk about other AUs now!
I know I mentioned this on Twitter, but idk if I mentioned here: I kind of want to make the Incubus AU (so, both the fics Midnight Kiss and As You Wish) into comics. As much work as comics are, I think writing this AU into one (or two, rather) would satisfy both my itch to storycraft and my unending desire to make art. I still need to figure out what style I want to draw my comic in, and finish my outlines so I have a solid idea of setting. I'm also gonna be stretching my 3D legs and maybe dabbling in Blender to streamline my workflow. It's a pretty big project and I'm really excited to start it, I just kinda...don't know when to (and I'm lowkey anxious to because I'm terrified of everything I write flopping, lol.)
You and I talked about Apoptosis a little, but idk if I shared my thoughts on this either? Publicly, I mean? So I'll do it now. Apoptosis was originally going to focus almost entirely on Price and the police side of the investigation, which is really intimidating because like...I don't trust my ability to write a satisfying police procedural that balances realism with artistic liberty. And I also hate cops.
But now that I'm planning to have more focus on other characters too (specifically Soap, Ghost, and Roach, who I like to call the Apop 141), who are conducting their own street investigation, it feels more approachable to me now. That, and it feels a little bit more similar to JJBA: Diamond is Unbreakable, which is really funny because I'm like 90% sure that it was a huge but unconscious inspiration for Apoptosis. Though obviously Apoptosis lacks that aspect of small town slice of life (and horror), since it's set in a much larger city.
But uh moving on!
I've mentioned this before on my writing/fandom blog, but I'm kind of drawn to the idea of a Soap-betrays-Price friends to lovers to enemies AU, but with an almost Caesar and Brutus slant to it? Not in the sense of actual history, but in the legend extracted from that history. Like Soap idolizes Price, loves him so deeply, transcendentally, unhealthily, just this...codependent admiration that's tangled up in a LOT of trauma and crossed wires. And Price feels similarly, though in a more authoritative sense; he's the one who Soap looks up to, and therefore he's the one who Soap answers to, the one who leads Soap around, the one whose shadow Soap stands in. And no matter how much he tries, Soap can't live up to this perfect ideal of Price. And things worsen from there.
Price goes on this paranoid, bitter downward spiral, and like...maybe the start of it is Yuri sowing seeds of doubt in Soap, not out of maliciousness, but because this is the same path he and Makarov went down years ago and he wants to try to save Soap from that. And in the end, it culminates in Soap betraying Price, and like...neither of them are particularly good people, especially Price (because he's gone completely off the rails), but they could've been, and maybe in another timeline they could've been good together, too. And Price genuinely loves Soap, genuinely trusts him (or at least, wants to trust him; I think by this point he would've long started to suspect something was up with Soap, but still wanted to have his cake and eat it too, so he didn't react as harshly as he might've if it had been, like...Yuri or someone). And just...the betrayal, the righteous betrayal coming from a man who isn't very good himself, and doesn't want to do this, and wishes it could've been different, but feels like he has no other choice and that this is what must be done for the greater good...idk I'm just rambling pure fucking nonsense rn but like "et tu brute?" and all that shit, you know?
And as for Venator. I haven't had many more thoughts on that AU. Mainly because I'm still agonizing over what the fuck I want Soap's hair to look like.
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zhxngweiascian · 3 years
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001 ❝ ‎ 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧, 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟑. ― 𝙰𝚕𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝙻𝚒.
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— He hated such pompous events, the kind that was thrown only to show off wealth and stature, the kind that felt as if it was closed off to the rest of the world and was thrown into another universe of glitz, glamour and champagne that tasted like the stars. Alexander sighed, nimble fingers finding the lapels of his already pristine suit to straighten; he could not wait to get out of it, to discard his petticoat and gloves and retire for the rest of the night. The foie gras on the saltine crackers and the one too many old fashioned had begun twisting his stomach into knots of discomfort more than the attention that flit his way from the wide and blue eyed party goers.
He stood in the corner by the table laden with amuse-bouches and piled with hors d'oeuvres, nursing his glass of champagne. He wondered where all this food went, whether if anyone really would eat or it would all simply go to waste; his heart went out for the city he lived in, adopted and made home for the span that was his temporary life. The War had ended just a mere couple of years ago but the chaos it had left in its wake was tangible enough that he could taste it on the tip of his tongue, the air rancid and filled with the aftermath of gunpowder. He disliked it. London. Where no one knows his neighbour. Where shops do not know their customers. Where physicians are suddenly called to unknown patients whom they never see again. Where you may lie dead in your house for months together unmissed and unnoticed till the gas-inspector comes to look at the meter. Where strangers are friendly and friends are casual. London, whose rather untidy and grubby bosom is the repository of so many odd secrets. Discreet, incurious and all-enfolding London. The city wasn't something he had known previously or was too familiar with- but one thing he was certain of, a part of him loved watching all of it unravel. This place hummed to the tune of debauchery. This city was filthy and deep in the thrall of unending sin, so saturated with the kiss of decadence that the sky threatened to buckle and crush all those living vivaciously beneath it in punishment.
"You're hiding away again?" a very familiar voice rang in his ear, reminiscent of the dulcet tinkles of bells and the angelic choir of church. It automatically brought a smile to his face and every single thought he had wasn't of any importance. He faced a knowing grin, one that curved into a cheeks hued a lovely pink. Rosalie Han was a sight for sore eyes in her dress the color of the midnight sky, sparkling with countless beads that sparkled and bounced back reflections when they caught the light of the chandelier. She came to a stop next to where he stood, beginning to peruse the menu displayed.
"I'm not hiding," he scoffed under his breath low enough that only she could hear; they both knew he hated being here... just like they both know that he would always indulge in her whims to go frolic with humans.
Rosalie nodded, carmine tinted mouth curved into a smirk and picked up a cream puff to hold to eye level, turning it this way and that way in an inspecting manner before she deemed it decent then proceeded to shove the entire thing in her mouth.
Alexander took a sip of his champagne, shaking his head at the woman. "By whatever war wages, not in front of your many suitors!" he exclaimed in a whisper, unable to hide his own simper as he tilted his glass briefly to the crowd as if to make his point.
"Don't tell me what to do, you oaf!" Rosalie yelled in a whisper, shooting him a murderous glance. Alexander's grin lifted further.
"The Hastings are here. So are the Parks and Chiannis. It's about time we match you with one of them, Rose. Looks like their heirs are vying for your attention." The man murmured, hiding his knowing grin behind the rim of his champagne glass, eyes raking the grande portico of the chateau where everyone of import milled about and rubbed elbows with each other.
Her gaze found his face, reflecting the thousand and one lights from the chandelier overhead despite the incredulity that swarmed in them and scoffed a sound. "So you'd have thrown me to the wolves?" she asked, lips downturned in a moue and followed his line of gaze. Alexander laughed, the sound low and reverberating in her ears that she couldn't resist but to grin too. Feigning annoyance, she grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing water, finishing half of the starry golden liquid in a quick sip.
"Frankly, I pity the wolves."
There it was, the cynical joke shared between the two long-time friends; their kinds were polar opposites but here they were, hidden in plain sight, hand in hand and with a shared history that transited time. Rosalie laughed, eliciting a low chuckle from him too; it was always fascinating how she laughed freely, drawing the attention of whoever stood close enough to catch an ear of the wonderful sound. And those who looked found it a peculiar sight, one that was uncommon to most yet, in a way, felt normal.
Alexander Li was an enigma and despite how his circle was made of those in power, there was little known about him other than he was a professor of philosophy and physics. He was tall and trim, with the build of a young man proficient in warfare even though he had not been in the war. His dark hair was straight and styled in a manner suggesting a desire for order in all things. They framed eyes so pale a shade of brown they appeared amber in certain flashes of light, like those of a tiger. His profile was an artist’s study in angles, and he remained motionless, face was set in a cool and expressionless canvas, save for when his thick eyebrows raised a fraction when an odd woman approached the pair to converse. He felt Rosalie stiffen, her dainty hand reaching to loop around his arm. He could have well imagined the curse that slipped past her lips but the woman both had been staring at was a mere foot away by then.
Evelyn Ackley jumped, unable to hide his surprise. She was the hostess of the party, the wife to a Lord who spoke little of sense and much more about himself. Her grin was wide and surprised and Alex thought that it seemed too bright to be genuine. "Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. For foreigners, your English is extraordinary. There is not a trace of an accent to be found."
"I have an American accent," he replied dully.
Ackley waved him off, the gaudy bracelet of diamonds she wore almost blinding him. "You know what I mean."
Do I? he wanted to say. Would I be less if I sounded like where I was from, like all those in this city who were forced to learn more than one language, unlike you? His mouth opened, the words right on his tip on his tongue when Rosalie chirped in, sounding sweet.
"No, we do not," she laughed, as if the other woman told a joke that tickled Rosalie's bones. It was a natural sound, but only those who looked closely noticed how her nimble fingers tightened around Alex's forearm. "Now, if you'll excuse us, I find the wine at this party a bit too bland." He bit into his inner cheek, refraining from making a sound of laughter.
Smoothly, Rosalie tugged on his arm with enough force that he had begun veering into the direction she led him in. He had enough time to bow at the Lady of the house, automatically falling into step with the smaller woman.
“I actually liked the wine,” he spoke after a moment, breaking the silence that had taken over.
She groaned, throwing him a side glance of disgust. “I am beyond appalled but not surprised you began losing your sense of taste.” Her chin rose so that the tip of her nose scrunched a fraction, her plump lips curved downwards into a faux remorseful pout.
He laughed goodnaturedly, his other hand reaching over to gently pat her hand that rested on his arm. It was true; he’d lived in London for about seven years now. He’d seen how the war had ebgan and lit even the smallest alleys with fires from both enemy and allies and he’d been there when it all came to an end. He’d seen it in the papers, how the new decade was called ‘the Roaring Twenties’ and wherever he went, the hedonistic lifestyle that London had adopted was an escape from the debris and chaos the war had left in its wake. He didn’t mind it; changes were bound to happen.
“Come, let’s go get some good wine,” he chuckled, veering to the left and out of the chateau that would party until past dawn.
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ 𝐀 𝐟𝐞𝐰 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫.
They sat at the top of the citadel just a mere 20 minute car ride away from the party. A little brown paper bag had been torn so it laid flat on the ground where they sat and on it sat a small display of cheese, crackers and grapes that they had stolen from the festivities. Surely, a handful of hors d’oeuvres would not be missed. The sky was lit with a canvas of stars and unfortunately enough, they weren’t seen from the city, too bombarded and overwhelmed by the city lights to shine on their own. But the more you looked at them, the more they rose to the surface of the dark sky, the tinier specks beginning to gather the courage to come to light too. If the stars should appear one night in a thousand years, how would men believe and adore; and preserve for many generations the remembrance of the city of God which had been shown! But every night come out these envoys of beauty, and light the universe with their admonishing smile.
“Ah, I wish I could get drunk on this!” Rosalie pronounced, breaking the otherwise impeccable silence of the night and wrenching him out of his thoughts.
Alexander took a sip of his wine bottle and turned his head to look at her. “The wine finally to your taste?”
She made sure that he could see her eye roll and he laughed, placing his bottle of wine down so he could swiftly pull off his suit jacket. In the same motion, he leaned over to her, gently placing the comfortable fabric over her dainty shoulders; neither of them got cold but it was more out of habit that he did it.
Silence befell the two again, a comforting cocoon that required nothing but each other’s presence to feel comfortable. His eyes remained on her, watching how she snuggled into his jacket and preoccupied herself with the contents of her own bottle of wine.
It was a beautiful and delightful sight to behold the body of the moon but Rosalie Han, who he’d known for what felt like eternity, was ethereal in her beauty. Even when the moonlight befell her being and kissed her skin of alabaster, it seemed as if she glowed from within, matching the moon’s light with her own. Her hair had escaped from the coiffe she had donned before the party, falling down her shoulders and back in waves of ravened hues. Sooty eyelashes fluttered everytime she blinked, the rouge on her lips that was once pristine now a faded dusty shade on her lips. She had always turned head wherever she went but it was in the serenest moments like these that Alexander allowed himself to really look at her. She had never changed in all these years he’d known her yet just like him, she molded with time, embracing the lifetime of infinity she had. Before he knew it, he was staring into dark pools of obsidian, lit by the moon and had it known for the remaining of his senses that had not been affected by the alcohol, he would have fallen into them and drowned.
“Penny for your thoughts?” she mused, picking a grape from the pile to plop into her mouth.
Alexander shook his head, turning his head away from her to look off into the horizon. Far into the distance, he had begun to spot a faint line of light. Dawn would arrive soon, forcing the both of them to retire back into their lives; despite how different they were, somehow they always managed to intertwine their own paths.
“Nothing,” he chuckled, taking the last sip of his wine. If the English had done one thing right, it was to allow the French to sell their alcohol in the city.
“Say it!”
A grape hit his cheek and he scoffed as he picked it from his lap where it had fallen and bit into it, ignoring her giggles.
“Remember when we attended Tom’s and Alina’s wedding last year?” he asked, reaching for a saltine that had a dollop of cheese in the middle.
Rosalie nodded. “The wedding itself or the time we both said we would marry each other in another thousand years if we are still single by then? Are you going back on your word now, Alex?”
He tutted his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he finished the last bit of his cracker and cheese. “I was just thinking that you shouldn’t keep your hopes up! Who knows maybe you’ll thankfully find someone and I will finally get rid of your loud self?”
It was a rare sight to watch the professor laugh, the sound natural as she hit him hard with the back of her hand before joining in his laughter as well. Who knew such a stoic man could manage such a face, so carefree that for a moment, he seemed like just a simple boy. But Rosalie Han, just like all of the versions of herself that he knew, often had that effect on him.
They sat there on the concrete floor of the citadel, munching on their snacks and sipping the last of their wines amidst childish banters and laughter the entire remainder of the night. It was only until dawn broke over the horizon, painting the skies a shell pink and a faint gold that they both made a move, going back home and broke away from the glitz and glamor that the night had left a residue on their skin.
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