#travel smoke kit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lightasthesun · 5 months

Text

Comprehensive Lexicon Guide for First-Time SW Fic Readers:

Flimsi/Flimsiplast = Paper

Flimsiwork/Datawork = Paperwork

Stylus = Pen

Datapad = Tablet

Comlink/Comm = Communication Device/Phone

Binders = Handcuffs

Chronometer = Clock

Spectacles = Eyeglasses

Chrono = Watch

Conservator = Refrigerator

Caf = Coffee

Nerfburger = Hamburger

Blue milk = Milk (literally blue)

Hubba chips = French Fries

Sweet roll = Doughnut

Flatcakes = Pancakes

Tabac = Tobacco

HoloNet = World Wide Web

Holovision/HoloTV = Television

Holodrama/Holovids = Movie/Videos

Holocamera/Holocam = Camera

Holomap = three-dimensional map

Holojournal = Newspaper

Holocube = Picture frame

Holotable = Projector

Holoscanner = X-ray machine

Holojournalist = Reporter

Flatholo/Holograph = Photograph

Sonic Damper = Active Noise Cancellation

Refresher/Fresher= Bathroom

Sonic Bath = Bath

Sanisteam/Sonic shower = Waterless Shower

Hydrospanner = Wrench

Hydro Flask = Water Bottle

Power Cell/Energy Cell = Batteries

Authorization Chip = Decryption key

Datatape = Disk

Datastick = Flash drive

(Personal) Com Code = Phone number

Datachip = SD Card

Synthflesh = Synthetic skin

Glowrod = Flashlight

Sparkstick = Match

Slugthrower = Gun

Slug = Bullet

Vibroblade = a blade that can vibrate at high frequencies, increasing its cutting power and penetrating ability (tactical knife)

Rangefinder = Rifle scope

Turbolaser = Cannon

Ion pike/Vibropike = Spear

Electro Staff = Stun baton

Blaster = Pistol/Rifle

Stun Blaster = similar to a Taser

Landspeeder/Airspeeder/Speeder = Car

Turbolift = Elevator

Slideramp = Escalator

Starfighter = Fighter jet

Rotorcraft = Helicopter

Hoverpack/Jetpack= Jet pack

Speeder Bike = Motorcycle

Skylane = Traffic lane

Railspeeder/Hovertrain = Train

Power Chair/Hoverchair= Wheelchair

Windscreen = Windshield

Podracing = Car racing

Dejarik = Chess

Sabacc = Poker and Blackjack combined

Galactic Rebels = Combat simulator

B'shingh = Dungeons and dragons

Jizz = Jazz music

Wailer = Singer (ie. Jizz Wailer)

Cantina = Bar or Pup

Para Sailing = Paragliding

Aurebesh = Alphabet

Credits = Money

Sleeping Pallet = Bedroll

Naming Day = Birthday

Youngling = Child

Galactic Basic Standard/ Basic = English

Medkit/Medpac = First aid kit

Hypo = Syringe

Medic/Healer = Doctor

Medcenter = Hospital

Bactapatch = Bandaid

Nanoweave = Fabric

Transparisteel = Glass

Plastifoam = Packing material

Durasteel = Steel

Plasteel = Plastic

Duracrete = Concrete

Slicer = Hacker (slicing = hacking)

Identikit = Passport

Minder = Therapist

Synthleather = Vinyl

Viewport = Window

Cooling Unit = Air-conditioning

Honeydarter = Bee

Slythmonger = Drugdealer

Spice = Drugs

Stimpill = Caffeine pill

Power Socket = Plug

Cutters = Scissors

Cycle = Day

Standard Cycle = 24h

Standard Week = 5 days

Standard Month = 35 standard days

Standard Year = approx. ten months

Tenday = literally ten days

Cigarras/Smokes = Cigarettes

Click = Kilometer or 'a moment'

Parsec = a unit of distance

Tweezers/Clanker/tin head/tinnie = Droid

Separatist = Seppie

Promise Ring = Wedding Ring

Body Glove = Jumpsuit

Slicksuit = Wet suit

Civvies = Civilian clothing

Carbonite = a metal alloy used to freeze a person in a state of hibernation

Hyperdrive = device that allows a starship to travel faster than lightspeed

Moisture vaporator = device that can extract water from the air, commonly used on tatooine

Glareshades = Sunglasses

Gasser = Gas Oven

Repulsorlift = technology that can create an anti-gravity field and is used for levitating heavy objects

Heating unit = Heater

Utility Droid = Roomba

Sunbonnet = a Clone trooper helmet

Bad Batcher = a defective Clone Trooper

Banthabrain = birdbrain/ a stupid person

Bantha fodder = waste of space/nonsense

Blast! = word of exclamation

Blasted! = s.o in anger or annoyance

Blaster-brained = dimwitted

Blaster fodder = cannon fodder

Blast off = Piss off

Brainless = Stupid

Bug/Bugger = used to refer to Geonosians

Forceforsaken = godforsaken

Full of Poodoo = full of shit

Poodoo = Shit

Kriff = Fuck

Jedi scum = derogatory term for jedi

Kark = derogatory expletive

Larty = LAAT/i gunship

Laserbrain = insult

Meat droid = derogatory term for Clone Troopers

Redrobes = Palpatines guard

Rookie/Shinie = newly recruited Trooper

Scum = insult to refer to bounty hunters/rebels

Sharpie = Sharp-witted

Sithspawn/Sithspit/Hellspawn! = expletive

Sleemo = Slimeball

Son of a bantha = insult

Wizard! = Cool

Spaced = dead

Hutt-spawn = Bastard

Karabast = exclamation of dismay

Stang = Crap

Buckethead/Bucketbrain = derogatory term for Stormtroopers

Bucket = Helmet

Nat-born = Natural Born

Roger Roger = affirmative/copy that

Droid poppers = EMP grenade

Sitrep = short for situation report

Backwater Planet = any planet that isn't part of the core system

Holocron = device that can project a three-dimensional image of a person/object and is used for communication or entertainment.

Kessel Run = a risky Operation. Commonly used as a metaphor in impossible situations.

Thermal Detonator= device that can create a powerful explosion like a grenade or bomb

Ray Shield/Energy Shield = creates a (protective) barrier

Rebreather = device that allows a person to breathe underwater or in toxic environments

Phrases:

Wild goose chase = wild bantha chase

That's bantha shit = that's bullshit

As slippery as a greased Dug = untrustworthy

Credit for your thoughts = penny for your thoughts

Cut the poodoo = cut the crap

to get your gills in a twist = get upset about something

Holy mother of meteors = holy mother of god

Oh my skies/ Oh my stars = exclamation of surprise

Stars' end! = exclamation of disbelief

What in the blue blazes = exclamation

When Geonosis freezes over/When it snows on tatooine = extremely unlikely

Who pissed in your power supply = who pissed you off

Blast it = damn it

By the maker = exclamation of surprise

Great karking Dragon = expression of disbelief

Lothcat got your tongue = equivalent of 'cat got your tongue?'

Sod it = expression of frustration

#shitpost incoming #I'm converting my friend into a star wars fan so I thought why not make a dictionary for every new fic reader lmao #star wars #writing star wars #star wars languages #star wars lore #im definitely missing some but these are words I've seen most commonly used in fanfic #userlumi #writing star wars fic #aurebesh #galactic basic Standard #as long as one person finds this post helpful it was worth it #youre all welcome to add to it #im stopping now coz otherwise I'mma clog the dash

5K notes · View notes

dilatorywriting · 1 year

Text

Monster Mayhem: Donkeys & Dragons [PART 3]

Gender Neutral Reader x Malleus Draconia Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: It turns out that befriending a dragon is not as terrible or difficult as you would have thought. But people, unsurprisingly, will always still be awful.

[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4] [EPILOGUE]

The first week of your internment flew by shockingly fast.

Maybe because you were always at War—a perpetual cycle of making some demand or other (that usually centered around a desire for the barest levels of personal space or agency) only to be met persistently with the ancient, all-powerful, dragon equivolent of >:(

The clothes and toilet situation were already a lost cause. You knew this.

But there were so many other little things. And big things too, sure. But you can never fully realize how much you’re truly under someone’s thumb until you want to head off to do something utterly insignificant and cannot.

For example, your first morning in captivity you’d tried to boil a pot of water. It was nothing fancy, just a small kettle kit you kept in your travel bags for making warm drinks and reheating rations into something vaguely edible. You’d collected some bits of wood from the heaps of debris lying all over the place and gone about lighting a fire. You’d only just barely managed to get the little sticks smoking when a horrific screech sounded from overhead.

And then, WHUMP!

The spiked end of a black tail came crashing down, obliterating your little fire and sending bits of wood flying in all directions.

“What the fuck, man!”

Tsunotarou curled around you to hiss at the flattened sparks like some unholy snake.

“It’s just for my tea! My tea!” you howled. “I wasn’t going to burn your stupid house down!”

He’s shifted into his human form again not long after, and he looked down his nose at you like a fussy parent—arms crossed petulantly across his pale chest.

“Fire is dangerous for humans,” he snuffed, absolutely indignant. “If you find yourself requiring flames for anything at all, call for me and I will lend you some of mine.”

“I would have been fine,” you beseeched, looking at the shattered remains of your little campfire with a grumpy pout.

“Lilia says humans often overestimate their own constitutions,” Tsunotarou grouched, expression dour and stony. You were about to ask just who or what on Earth this ‘Lilia’ was supposed to be, when the dragon dipped his head in close to yours and nuzzled along your throat. You could feel the pinpricks of his fangs against the delicate skin over your pulse. “Which is why so many of your kind are massacred for their own foolishness. Or fall victim to plague and famine. Or wind up being burned alive. I would prefer that you not succumb to such a fate.”

You gulped, and that had been the end of that conversation.

Another time you’d tried to scale the banister to reach the bathroom on your own. It had been going pretty well, all things considered. There were plenty of nice footholds and it all had sort of settled at a slope, meaning you weren’t really climbing a wall so much as very slowly crawling up an incline like a determined slug.

You’d nearly made it to the top when you were scooped up by the back of your collar and promptly deposited at the other end of the room.

Of all the languages you half-spoke, Dragon was not one of them. But the snarling and snapping in your face certainly seemed like the rather universal ‘what do you think you’re doing?!’

“I was just trying to go the bathroom!” you argued. “No fires or anything!”

Tsunotarou’s large maw ducked down to growl into your much smaller one. He let out a series of exasperated clicks and chatter, the sharper or which were punctuated by sprays of green sparks from behind his teeth. His nostrils flared and the blast of dry heat that followed sent your head spinning and your hair gusting out behind you.

“I wasn’t going to fall,” you finally said, because you had a feeling that’s what you were being lectured about at the moment.

The rumbling growl that followed sounded like it had traveled all the way from the dark trenches of his bowels, or maybe even the very marrow of his bones. You could feel the ground vibrating under your feet.

“Fine,” you conceded. You weren’t exactly worried he was going to eat you anymore, but there were certainly… other things. Many dumb ways to die. “I won’t do it again.”

He harumphed at you, his head bobbing in what looked a bit like a nod. And then he turned and raked a gigantic claw across your little makeshift ladder of debris, flattening it into nothing with one, fell, swoop. You’d groaned and let yourself collapse listlessly back into the ensuing cloud dust.

There was also the time you’d nearly had a conniption because you were sick and tired of camping out on a frigid, stone, floor every night when you were trapped inside a literal castle.

“There are dozens—hundreds—of rooms in here,” you’d argued. “There’s got to be a bed in at least one of them.”

Tsunotarou had simply rolled over onto his side and arched a wing into the air, as if offering you the warm hollow beneath.

“You’re not comfortable,” you’d hissed, and he’d sulked ridiculously for the rest of the afternoon until you’d managed to finally come to a workable solution.

As in, dragging every goddamn mattress you could find into the cavernous ballroom that he’d long since seemed to claim as his Favorite Spot. You’d turned it into a game—see who could find the most comfy things and make the biggest squish pile. Being nearly a dozen times your size and having twice as many functional limbs that were capable of grabbing things, naturally Tsunotarou had come out as the winner. But now you had nearly endless pillows and blankets to snuggle into at night, so who’d really come out on top?

“I’ve never bothered to build a nest before,” he’d mumbled to himself, post victory. He patted gently at one of the thick duvets he’d swiped, expression almost whimsical. “It’s quite nice.”

“See,” you’d grinned, bouncing up and down on one of the springier mattresses. “I told you this was better.”

And so chuffed were you that you weren’t heading to sleep with a rock as your pillow for the first time all week, that you didn’t even complain when late into the evening he sneakily dragged you out of your plush pile and into his—tail wrapped snuggly around your waist and tucking you tightly against his ribs. I mean, his nest was much nicer than yours. It was only practical.

So, as anyone could see, your week had been far from easy.

But after those first days, once you had finally gotten a hand on all his nonsensical rules and you’d in turn concocted equally as many ways to try and circumvent them just enough to make yourself comfortable, things settled into a kind of domestic tranquility.

And that was when time started to drag.

You’d read the handful of books in your pack a dozen times over. You’d counted the cracks in the ceiling (one-hundred-and-thirty-two of them). You’d counted the stones on the floor (six-hundred-and-five). You’d sorted those stones into piles by shape, size, color. You lolled back against your cozy pile of blankets and thunked your head miserably against your pillow. Once. Twice. Three times. Four—

“What do you normally do all day?” you complained.

Tsunotarou lazily blinked awake. He lifted his giant, serpentine, head and glanced pointedly around the cavernous room before settling back into his mountain of blankets with a contented huff.

“You just sleep?” you frowned, baffled. “All the time?”

He rumbled unintelligibly at you for a moment before digging his claws into his nest with a long, lithe, stretch. And then those scales began to melt away, and soon enough he was pale, and bare, and rolling his way into your lap with a contented little grumble.

“What would you have me do instead?” he asked, voice thick with the syrupy warmth of sleep. He stretched again, like a big cat, and settled his head more firmly against your thighs. “Raid cities? Burn villages?”

“…Ideally no,” you grumbled, hands falling habitually to start running your fingers through the silky soft hair pooling along your abdomen. “I mean, there have got to be other things dragons do. You live for thousands of years.”

He hummed, neon eyes slipping closed. He pressed his forehead demandingly up into your palm and you rolled your eyes before obligingly sliding your digits lower to scratch at his scalp and around the base of his horns. That seemed to be his favorite.

“I am not wanted much of anywhere, I’m afraid,” he said finally with a defeated little sigh. It didn’t sound particularly self-deprecating, just… accepting. It made something sad and small curl in your gut. “So what else is there for me to do? Other than while away the hours.”

“There’s got to be something,” you pressed, that eking irritation born from boredom melting into something that was a bit too close to genuine concern for your liking. “Don’t dragons keep hoards? Treasures? That’s a thing, right?”

“Oh.” He blinked himself back into focus, as if only remembering in just that moment. “That is true. Would you like to see mine, then?”

“Aren’t hoards, like, private?” you asked, hesitant. Trying not to bring up the glaring elephant in the room that was ‘Hey. Yeah. So my friends and I totally broke in here in the first place to steal from said hoard. Not that we knew there was a dragon here. But like. I did, in fact, come here as an adventurer and a thief.’

“Naturally,” Tsunotarou hummed. You could feel it vibrate all the way up your hip. His lips quirked into a little, crooked, smile. “I’ll take you there now.”

The Treasure Room was as elaborate and expensive looking as the name implied, and it seemed to be the one area of the castle that had been spared the grey desolation that had seeped through the rest of it. It was enormous—certainly larger than even the grand, cavernous, room in which you’d recently been residing. And it was lined wall to ceiling with every variant of wealth you could imagine—precious metals, ancients tomes, paintings from every great master through history, magical weapons, the finest of spell scrolls. You could probably buy the world at least twice over with its contents.

But the thing that caught your eye amidst the endless sea of gold was not a pretty gemstone or a treasure of old, but a little, black and purple, doll—perched atop a looming pedestal of silks and finery like a crown jewel. It was small and plain with curling black horns made of felt. A chubby little dragon miniature that was as ugly as it was round.

Tsunotarou noticed your inquisitive gaze and walked over to pluck the little, cotton, creature from its throne. He held it delicately in his clawed fingers.

“Ah, yes. This is Drago. Lilia gifted him to me after one of his jaunts through the human world.” He turned the doll over in his palms, brow tugging down a bit as he did. “I hope he hasn’t been too terribly lonely. It has been a while since I’ve come down here to visit.”

The great and powerful dragon of the Castle Within The Lava Lake keeping a toy keepsake amongst his most prized possessions was so strikingly adorable that you couldn’t help but feel your heart melt at the sight.

You brightened and turned on your heel to start making your way back to the ballroom and what remained of your adventuring gear. Tsunotarou made a noise under his breath that was too dignified to be a splutter, but what you assumed was more or less his refined equivolent. And then he was tagging at your heels with a perplexed look on his face.

“Where are you going?”

“To get something!” you chirped, mentally running through the contents of your bag and little sewing kits. Yes, there should be more than plenty to—

“To get what?” Tsunotarou pouted, and you realized belatedly that running off in the middle of him showing off his life’s accumulation of precious artifacts and accomplishments was perhaps a bit rude.

“It’s a surprise,” you said. “Just give me like half an hour to put it together.”

In the end, it really only took you around fifteen minutes of fussing. Drago was hardly a complex little thing, and you’d originally learned to stitch in a panic. Trying to mend holes in pants and leather was a lot harder to accomplish when you were being actively chased by bandits, or a raging Ace. In comparison, sitting merrily on the floor of a collapsed ballroom and shoving stuffing into a little ball of cloth was hardly a challenge.

You held out your creation—equally as ragtag and ridiculous looking as its inspiration.

“There,” you beamed, and pressed it into Tsunotarou’s hands. “Now he has a friend.”

A teeny, flesh-colored, blob. With strips of soft fabric for a cloak and a hastily stitched smile. A miniature bard, perfectly (?) encapsulated in his palm.

The dragon stared down at your offering with wide, green, eyes. He looked positively startled—so caught off guard that he didn’t know what to do with himself, let alone the bewildered expression flitting across his otherwise regal face.

“You said he might be lonely,” you hummed, rocking self-consciously back and forth on your heels.

“Oh,” Tsunotarou mumbled, black-tipped claws flexing around his new gift. He observed it carefully, like an aging academic might study some ancient, arcane, relic. There was still that strange look about him—like he couldn’t quite believe the little trinket in his hand was real. “I did, didn’t I...?”

When he remained silent after that, still staring down at your homemade abomination in awe? Horror? you couldn’t tell, you began fidgeting in earnest.

“It is kind of awful looking,” you rattled off, picking nervously at the hem of your cloak. “You can get rid of it if you want—”

“No,” he barked, and then paused, clearly surprised at the ferocity of what had come out of his mouth. That at least seemed to startle him out of whatever fog had settled over his brain, and he clutched the teeny toy firmly to his chest. He cleared his throat and started again, noticeably gentling himself. “No. I think I’d like to keep this.”

You smiled. “Good! I’m glad you like it! No one deserves to feel lonely—even little, toy, dragons.”

Tsunotarou’s lips curled into an awkwardly lopsided smile—like the muscles there weren’t used to tugging so wide. It lit the entirety of his expression with something so heart wrenchingly warm that you couldn’t help but feel like none of that had really been about the little doll at all.

You really should have known better.

If someone as illiterate and ill connected as your wandering gang of idiots could stumble upon the location of a ‘secret castle overburdened with ancient treasures,’ surely anyone even marginally more competent would be able to do the same.

You’d been at the tail end of your supply of rations. And while you hadn’t entirely meant to imply that you might just wind-up starving to death, the comment had been more than enough to send your dragon into a tizzy.

“Well, what do you normally eat?” you asked, and Tsunotarou frowned as he considered.

“My guards bring me sustenance when I require it. Ice elementals, goblins, stone giants,” he listed, eyes tracking your expression in hopes that maybe any of that sounded appetizing. Which it certainly did not. His nose scrunched up in thought. “Perhaps I should seek counsel with Lilia. He would know what to do.”

You cleared your throat. “I mean, I know what humans can eat. I could just tell you.”

His face brightened. “Meat, yes?”

You nodded. “Sometimes.”

“Like that of a manticore?” he continued, excited at the prospect. “Those are particularly delicious. And there are quite a few nesting in the crags not far from here.”

His merry smile slowly slipped off his face at whatever pinched look had twisted up yours.

“Vegetation?” he tried. “There are ample bushes at the foot of the volcano. Most do have thorns, but I suppose you could pick around them.”

“…Maybe you should talk to Lilia,” you conceded.

So Tsunotarou had shifted into his scales with a promise to return post-haste and many fussy reminders that you should move as little as possible to avoid wasting any more precious nutrients. The great downbeats of his wings seemed to roll through the entire castle like a shudder, and then you were alone for the first time in nearly a fortnight.

You lazed around in the echoing quiet, drumming bits of random tempos against your stomach and occasionally humming snatches of obnoxiously raunchy tavern tunes that you’d never really managed to bleach from your brain. How had Tsunotarou done this for decades? It’d barely been ten minutes and you were already bored out of your mind.

There was a flash of shadow near the grand entrance, and you sat up enthusiastically—ready to greet your returning host. But it wasn’t a dragon at the door.

“Who the hell are y—” the words died in your throat, and you spat a muted curse. The Silence Spell settled over your shoulders like a grungy cloak. You could feel its sticky film along the back of your tongue like a fine layer of moss.

“Who the fuck is that?” one of them hissed, and you fought the petulant ‘that’s just what I’d been about to ask you, jack ass!’ that wouldn’t have made it past your lips anyways.

There were six in total—a proper party from the looks of their ensembles. At least two people in full plate armor, a waify looking elf with a thick spell book in his hands, and three others in various getups that weren’t quite cookie cutter enough to tell you anything helpful. You rambled at them irritably, silently, gesturing rather impolitely all the while. You mimed teeth, and claws, and wings, and stomped around like a beast in a play.

‘There is a dragon here,’ you tried to say. Because maybe they were just unlucky adventurers like you and Tweedle Dee and Dum had been—not having any real idea what lay beyond these castle walls. You mimed a giant mouth, like a crocodile. ‘And he will eat you.’

“What the fuck?” Armored Dude gaped.

You pointed irritably at Mister Elf Wizard, who was still very obviously concentrating on keeping you encircled in a mesh of absolute silence.

The itchy sensation clogging your throat eased and you let out a breath, which echoed loudly in your ears. Elf-Guy looked at you with something that was perhaps a shade or two off of sympathy.

“Are you alright?” he asked. “What are you doing here?”

“You need to leave,” you replied instead, firm. “There’s a dragon that lives in this castle.”

“Of course there’s a dragon,” Armored Lady scoffed. “Why do you think we’re here?”

You looked at their heavy, expensive, armor. At the giant, shining, magical, weapons hanging across their backs. At the thin wizard who proceeded catch you in a Hold Person spell that was so fast and strong you couldn’t have dispelled it if you tried. And of course you tried. What else could you do? These people weren’t like you and your loveable idiots who managed to occasionally stumble their way into an adventure. These guys were the real deal. Warriors. Heroes. Dragon Slayers.

“God-fucking-damn it.”

But of course you’d been caught in Silence once again, so you were left cursing nothing.

[TAG LIST] CLOSED

@marvelous-maxi, @ilikefanfics4, @jackalope08, @crocwork-clockodile, @cosmicobubisi, @buttplugs-stuff, @pomefleur, @decemebercircus, @ailynyan, @genzombie, @meliade-ot, @sunlightocean, @theofficialantitherapist, @hermiona18, @sailorenthusiast, @fantasy-dating-sim-trash, @thefiasco-onyourblock, @insideous-beez, @its-clockwork-princess

@novaloptr, @imlost-sendhelp, @matcha-berry @preciosayorgullosa @whoretaglia, @kookygirlwholikescookiesandcoke, @nanauedorian, @trixeraptops, @voxnipop, @starkling25, @thedum1, @horcrux-alchemist, @sleepykitty21, @apathicace, @instantregret101, @nekanecorvus, @looney-mori, @re-ducing, @my2phetaliaheadcanons, @naughtybodypillow, @rendy-a, @carmen-404, @candy284, @thealiennamedterry, @their-name-is-fake, @huetolog, @glacticrose, @seraphinariddle, @rabioa, @sn00zl4x, @dreasimping, @jeidoreech, @ai-dev, @galaxyshine24-7, @fatally-incorrect, @juulranch, @camrastuff, @nocteetdie, @stargaryengirl,

#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #Malleus Draconia x Reader #Malleus x Reader #Malleus Draconia #Malleus x Yuu #Dragon Malleus #Monster Mayhem #My Writing #Twst Fantasy AU #Monster Mayhem Malleus Part 3

2K notes · View notes

travelingthief · 11 months

Text

Hermes Offerings and Devotions

Offerings

Keys

Dice

Playing cards

Coins

Rocks/pebbles

Playing jacks (UPG)

Bouncy balls (UPG)

Lucky charms (Cereal)

Rabbit's foot

Horse shoe

Magic 8 ball

Coffee

Energy drinks

Herms

Road trip snacks (I like Hostess donuts)

Airplanes/trains/cars imagery

Foreign/new foods

Trail mix

Peanut m&ms (UPG)

Turtles

Lyres/string instruments

Sandals/shoes/running shoes

Journals

Camping gear

Survival gear, like multitools, fire starters, first aid kits etc.

Pens/pencils

Small (stolen) trinkets

Language dictionaries

Work out gear

Panpipes

Postcards

Letters

Mail

Stamps

Envelopes

Zodiac signs

Sheep/goats

Car parts

Backpacks/drawstring bags/bags

Crocos

Sticks

Saffron

Sticks

Board games (UPG)

Dominos (UPG)

Pick up sticks (UPG)

Books

Cups

Scales

Dream journals

Graveyard dirt

Cookie fortunes

Foreign money

$2 Bills

Dollar coins

Marbles

Travel souvenirs

Bikes/skateboards/skate

Old licenses/IDs

Sport trophies/jerseys/jackets/gear

Wings/feathers

Letters/numbers

Video games

Magic kits

Oranges/Lemons (UPG)

Devotional Acts

Write letters

Go for walks

Run

Road trips

Learn about alchemy, astrology, lucid dreaming/astral travel, astronomy, etc.

Learn basic car maintenance (change a tire, jump a car, change air filter, check oil etc.)

Give money/socks/cigarettes/water/food to panhandlers

Go talk to a panhandler and keep them company for a bit. I usually smoke a cigarette with them (only time I smoke) and just chat.

Pranks

Public speaking

Tip well

Stargazing

Geocaching

Learn new language

Learn ASL

Work out

Drive safely and predictably

Use your blinker fools

Bike/skate

Clean your car

Make a travel altar

Get a passport

Travel

Practice keyboarding

Have a penpal

Train your voice

Magic tricks

Check your mail/email regularly

Low risk gambling, like lotto tickets

Riskier gambling if you're mindful of it

Make sigils

Have a race

Play a tag

Be nice to wait staff

Play sports

Make maps of trails near you

Make maps of whatever you want

Play uke/string instruments

Make herms

Carpool

Uphold confidentiality

Coin tricks

Be a reliable worker

Thrifting/yard saling

Dumpster diving

Making trades and barters

Help look for missing people/pets

#hermes #i wanted to make another one because my last one isn't quite my style anymore #hermes worship #hermes offering #hellenic polytheism #helpol #hellenic pantheon #greek gods #paganism #pagan #hellenic gods #hellenic paganism #witchblr #hermes devotion #hermes deity

794 notes · View notes

is-the-snake-video-cute · 9 months

Note

Had to evacuate my building tonight due to a fire alarm and it made me appreciate that my snakes travel container had a handle. I was alone so handled both the dog and the snake, the handle made things so much easier. (Turns out some dork was smoking in the laundry room)

Everyone is fine but I wanted to ask, have you ever had to evacuate with your snakes? Either way are there any tips you’d give new snake owners for how to evacuate safely?

I've had to evacuate with my snakes a few times when I lived in garbage apartments with hair-trigger fire alarms, and thankfully I got it down to something of a science! Here's what I always recommend.

I keep large plastic bins, the kinds with locking lids. I actually prefer ones with wheels for this just in case because they're easier to move around with, but the locking lid is the only must-have.

And that bin is your designated emergency tub. Inside, keep these things:

Travel bins for all your snakes. They do not have to be big, just make sure they have latching lids. Little bit of substrate in there, one small hide, and a small water bowl. Write their names on the lids so you can avoid any confusion if you have to evacuate fast.

Another small bin with a snake first-aid kit, just in case your snake is hurt and you can't get them to the vet right away. Antiseptic, reptile shedding aid spray, gauze bandages, medical tape.

Extra heat mats - in a pinch, you can prop them up along the sides of your travel bins. You probably won't have room for thermostats in your emergency kits, but heat mats on the sides of bins are safe in a pinch.

If you have to get out fast and you don't have time to put all the snakes in their own bins, you can just put them in the main tub and sort them out once you're all safe - that's why the locking lid is a must-have! The only snakes that won't work for are ophiophagus (snake-eating) ones like kingsnakes - with them, the extra time is needed to get them in their individual bins if you can take it.

Emergency bins like this are things I hope no one reading this will ever need, but being prepared will help evacuations go much more smoothly.

#not a rating #snake emergencies

292 notes · View notes

verysmallcyborg · 2 months

Text

Fornax Val'ethtue

B A S I C S

Name: Fornax Val'ethtue (or Fyrstyrn [fire star] Dotharl, when thinking of the two naming conventions)

Nicknames: They don't have much nicknames, however friends that know Fornax well enough can call them "Lily" (Delmira especially calls them that, this is because of their association with the flower), otherwise only Ryss gets to call her sea puppy or treasure

Age: 37 (by Endwalker)

Nameday: 5th Sun of the 1st Umbral Moon

Race: Sea Wolf Roegadyn + Xaela Au Ra (au roe, if you will. tehe)

Gender: Non-binary Butch (she/they)

Orientation: Lesbian

Profession: Outside of WoL responsibilities... bodyguard and marksman

P H Y S I C A L A S P E C T S

Hair: Black with a bunch of grey hairs. If it's short, it's spiky and either has the sides and the lower back of it shaved down, or they have their sideburns. If it's longer, then it's generally messy and uneven with a "wild" look.

Eyes: Black sclera, slit pupils, and vibrant orange. Fornax's eyes only glow because their dad taught them how to apply limbal rings when she was young, but never learned how to accurately do it (or when to stop doing it, until there was a full glow) after his death.

Skin: Dark grey, has a black gradient starting at their forearms and goes all the way to their hands. Has a fair amount of scales, though some are broken and ripped off around scars.

Tattoos/scars: Decorated in scars all over their face and body, but the most notable ones are on their face, neck, and torso. Some of her face scars are from saving a coeurl kit from hunters, and briefly got mauled by its mother when returning it (they understood the protective instinct, but OUCH). The scars across their neck and chest was an incident that put them at deaths door, and then a large scar on their side is from... WELL. Ryss. :) Don't worry about it :)

Very important: their top scars!! Those tits: chopped off. Also the end of their tail (that doesn't have the top layer of thick scales) has a bite scar from the Major-General, no one believes them when they say a tiny shark with tiny legs bit them while fishing.

Fornax has a very subtle trail of faint orange stars on their back for a tattoo!

F A M I L Y

Parents: Unnamed Roegadyn mother & Xaela father. Her mom was a traveling merchant of sorts, while her dad was part of the Dotharl clan. Unfortunately, both were murdered while Fornax was young... :')

Siblings: No siblings

Grandparents: N/A (I don't think that far with family LOL)

In-laws and Other: No idea about in-laws, but for other: their lovely spouse, Ryssrael!!! :)

Pets: Befriends every stray and animal that they cross, but specifically, they have a little black coeurl and a baby amaro that follow them around.

S K I L L S

Abilities: Very skilled with a rifle and axes of any kind (WAR/MCH combo), though they are in their best element when within melee range. Weaponizes their teeth, claws, and tail as often as they can, and wields terrifying, brutal strength that amplifies when angered or under a need to win and/or survive. Best not to piss off a butch who could pull an entire ship with just them and their partner!!

Hobbies: LOVES cooking and all kinds of hands-on crafts, but specifically knitting and crocheting.

T R A I T S

Most Positive Trait: Their unwavering determination

Most Negative Trait: Has a self-destructive habit of fleeing and attempting to isolate themselves when hurt

L I K E S

Colors: Most warm colors, baby blue, black, and purple

Smells: Burning firewood, ocean breezes on the sunrise/sunset, the stinging metallic scent of blood, flowers in a field, freshly cooked food (especially stews and bread)

Textures: The subtle raised skin of old scars, the wool off of freshly sheared karakuls, tree bark, warm hands against their scales, horns, and tail

Drinks: Apple cider, hot chocolate, fruity beverages

O T H E R D E T A I L S

Smokes: Not really, unless offered

Drinks: Only in good company/socially

Drugs: Recreationally? Maybe, otherwise nah

Mount Issuance: Still has their red chocobo (HEH...) but he spends his days sleeping and chilling in the garden of their yard. Nowadays they use a comically tiny airship.

Been Arrested: Several times by the Maelstrom and Flames, mostly when they were a teenager & young adult because of petty thefts and getting in trouble for some of the jobs they took on to scrape by. Fornax has gotten significantly better at escaping and hiding though, which is kinda funny when you wonder, how does anyone lose a 8ft/244cm tall au roe with a big ole tail?

Tagged by @hazelkjt and @cindernet-explorer!!! thank you <3

UHHHHHH i've seen most folks i follow be tagged already, so i'm pointing at the viewer. Your Turn

#fornax #hehe i love when i get to spill some lil lore tidbits of them!!!!#i need to redo their carrd and refsheet since it's canon that them and ryss are in each others lore....... hurgh

76 notes · View notes

goldnhourwrites · 4 months

Text

Not enough people talked about these so I'm gonna do it myself because oh my god (commentary and headcanons below, it's just long)

Sett has a little travel-sized sewing kit in his bag... it's so tidy... sett stitching things back together when his bandmates rip them...

Sett just casually carries around like 20+ pounds of dumbbells. Mans is literally always working out. The grind never stops.

"yo Ezreal can you grab my bag for me?" "Yeah sure--what the FUCK do you have in here? This thing weighs a hundred pounds."

His little exercise headband... and is that a hair tie behind it? Sett with his hair tied back??

Sett's energy bar collection. Sett's the type of person to pack an entire backpack full of snacks for a road trip.

Ezreal has a plushie OF HIMSELF on his bag.

this guy practically collects aesthetic glasses. 3 pairs in the bag plus the circle ones he had in PARANOIA.

Sharpie (for signing autographs???) His signature on the polaroids of himself???

The photo under the lip balm looks like it might be Ezreal and Aphelios. Ezreal's the type of person to make sure he has photos with all of his friends. Ezreal hanging up his favorite polaroids in his room.

can we talk about the all-white fit in the very bottom photo omg

Aphelios has back-up headphones for his headphones.

WHO SENT THE SNACKS. WAS IT ALUNE. WAS IT SOMEONE ELSE.

The writing on the note looks like Korean but unfortunately I don't know any Korean :(

his sticky noted book... is it a journal? is it full of lyrics? who put the little smiley face sticker on the front!! does he write in it!!

I love the idea of Aphelios just pulling out a little keyboard whenever he wants to write down a tune. How well can he play the piano? Only enough to write music, or does he have songs memorized? Does he ever play for anyone?

K'SANTE'S DRAWING TABLET

he's not just in charge of putting together their fashion, he designs it himself. i'm going to scream

I am in love with those glasses. I need art of k'sante in those glasses ASAP. i will do it myself if i have to.

What is his book!! What does the W stand for!!

The way the button on his gloves matches the one on his jacket in his LoL splash art. This tiny detail is driving me insane.

Also, the cologne? The top is the same as his necklace? Does he have a specific personal cologne? So elegant...

Kayn's Pentakill guitar pick. Let me see him play the guitar I beg

The crumpled up receipts. This man goes Shopping (also see: cash, various coins). And he just has a bunch of random shit in his bag because he never bothers cleaning it out.

the open leaking bottle of hair dye. please. do you NEED that

The random jewelry... I love the idea of him either a) taking it off, shoving it in his bag, and forgetting where he put it or b) bringing backup drip with him everywhere in case he needs more

While Sett, Aphelios, and Yone all opted for headphones, Kayn's gone with good old-fashioned corded earbuds. Does he not like headphones? Is it because they mess up his hair?

Big ass box of matches and For Why? Does he smoke? Is he too cool to carry around a lighter? Does he just like setting shit on fire?

Yone keeps a little emergency travel kit. Band mom energy. He's got band-aids and a toothbrush and toothpaste At The Ready.

Bottle of lotion? Yone with a skincare routine? Yone who stays moisturized? Everybody in Heartsteel asking Yone for lotion?

Earplugs (for sleeping on long bus rides, maybe?) I want to see Yone going "I'm sick of this shit" and tuning the fuck out.

Yone is the only one with a real headphone case. Aphelios has his around his neck 24/7, but his wireless earbuds have a case. Sett's just shoving his in there with twenty pounds of dumbbells and hoping for the best.

Yone's got so many little gadgets and I don't even know what they all are. He has his laptop and (probably) his phone, plus a smartwatch, and maybe a portable charger? He's that prepared.

I can't tell what the object beside his smartwatch is (looks wooden?) If anyone knows, let me know? I'm so curious

This man's got even more stuff inside his bag. Yone doesn't leave the house without like fifteen things in case of an emergency.

good news everyone. i'm still losing my mind over them

#heartsteel #heartsteel sett #heartsteel ezreal #heartsteel aphelios #heartsteel k'sante #heartsteel kayn #heartsteel yone

99 notes · View notes

the-tropes-are-hungry · 2 days

Text

The Cat's Mother (1/3)

Did someone say mommy issues? Congrats, Narinder, you lose!

CW: Stillbirth, death by burning.

His mother protected him.

Her litter was cursed. Dead kit, after dead kit, after dead kit. Six dead daughters and one all-black son who came out half the size of the corpses and barely breathing. In their matriarchal colony, he was a travesty.

He let out a single mewl, his first and meant-to-be-last breath.

His mother’s nurse, her sister, took the ill omen for what it was and placed him in the water to drown him. Better to let seven kittens go back to the River Eater together than the incomplete six. Grief would cleanse the poisoned womb. Next time, there would be daughters.

Mother disagreed and took him from the water. She protected him. She held him and groomed him and gave him his first taste of life while his sisters lay cold in a basket and hers lay dying on the floor.

They left the colony before his eyes (only two, Heket teased) opened.

Mother was a warrior. Her fur was the colour of bright sand under the spotless blue sky, her coat thin but sleek over lean muscle that let her twist and strike like lightning. She killed every member the colony sent after them asking her to return, breaking the Wrath Bringer’s prohibition on striking messengers. For this, they became strays, and he wore the blood of mother’s victims as if she’d pulled off their skins and wrapped him in them.

He should not have been a warrior. Every omen, card, tea leaf, entrail, and star said his claws should have folded against sand, never-mind stone. His teeth should have rotted out of his skull. His ears should have been filled with pus. The hatred of seven dead kinswomen should have doomed him to a feeble, terrified existence. The River Eater should have supped on his blood and spat out his deformed bones.

Instead, where mother was the wind, he was her shadow. Where her eye went, his darts followed. Where her sword struck, his claws sank. When she showed her fangs, his already held flesh. There was little she could teach with blade or chain or claw that he could not master, and she loved him for it.

“My little lord,” she praised, purring deep in her chest over every kill, every triumph, every show of power. She loved his midnight dark pelt, grooming him to an oil-slick shine and taking every opportunity to procure the oils and waxes to give him the texture of smoke to go with his flawless grace.

They stayed nowhere, and lived richly (as bandits, Shamura complained). If Mother said they would eat from the Thunder Mother’s table, then they would scale the temple walls and gorge themselves on honeyed meat and rich wine and fill their bags with trinkets and tributes. If she decided the Tortoise Keeper’s tax men demanded too much, they would make a game of slowly cutting around their shelled heads to peel off the shell—only to realize, delighted (and to Kallamar’s horror), that the entire brain came out when they pulled.

Mother adored him, and made his life a paradise. He bathed in her favour, supped on her devotion, and grew tall atop the pillar she raised for him. Six prized daughters had died to bring her one son; therefore, the omens must be wrong and the gods who peddled them equally blind. Their peoples’ colonies did not need another queen, they needed a Lord of Lords to rule them, and she named him appropriately.

“Narinder--!”

It was the last thing she said before she died.

They were, in the end, only bandits in the eyes of the Green-Eyed Queen. Thieves, stealing both from her altars, and her divinity.

Mother had begun to gain uncanny power. He hadn’t notice it, or else he had not been old enough to understand it. The way people whispered of a gold sphynx; a flash of light on the road that became a rain of copper darts and sharp stone; how travellers at midnight could avoid her wrath by offering a pot of lamp oil, or a clever riddle. Whispers, rumors, and—sure enough: prayers.

Prayer, faith, devotion, love. Four names for the same energy, the same power that the Green-Eyed Queen wanted back from them. Theirs was a land of gods and demigods where the love of the many empowered the few. While his mother was never kind to their victims, she never struck the young or their mothers either. She left the elders alone in their beds. She was, in some small corners, to a very lucky few, a grace. A blessing.

So, the Green-Eyed Queen sent her hunters.

A fortnight later, his mother was in chains with nails driven through her wrists and ankles, locked in an iron cage his claws and knives could never break through. He tracked them for three days, twelve years old and trembling with hunger, rage, and terror. All he needed was one chance to spy the key among the knights and hunters. Just a moment’s distraction to get through the lock and cast off the chains and hide her, protect her, feed her fledgling divinity the way she had been trying to spark the same in him.

They dragged her deep into the forest, built a great bonfire to their queen, and hurled his mother’s cage into it.

He fought better than he should have. He killed more than any other twelve-year-old could have hoped for: at least two. In his furor he didn’t see the other figures strike the camp to flank him, he just saw the cage. He just heard Mother screaming, and burning, and dying.

The iron was glowing red when he threw himself at it, but the spider caught him in three strong arms while the fourth kept swinging their weapon. His throat tore with every emotion made sound. He forgot to fight the spider, he needed Mother and he fought for her with hisses, snarls, and yowls.

“It is enough,” said the spider.

He’d dropped Mother’s sword. He’d run out of darts. He unsheathed his claws on all four paws and screamed, shrieked, wailed at the creature holding him. He lashed out in a flurry swipes and kicks and they, understandably, slammed him into the ground.

“Shamura!”

“At ease—he is frightened.”

They pinned him there and no matter how much he clawed and kicked and fought their flesh never wept blood. The spines of their carapace were thick, snaring his claws and tearing two of them out. Their armor was like nothing he had ever seen, liquid black and gold links that flowed like water under his claws. He fought until his throat was bloody, and his arms went feeble, and his eyes were blinded by sweat and tears and smoke. He fought until three horrible days without sleep or food or peace fogged his mind and yet he could still see. He could see his life running thin, the thread of it spun of something almost different but now fraying from abuse.

He saw the moment where Shamura weighed his flesh against the hunger of their brother and soldiers. He understood that if he did not tip those scales in his favor, they would eat him, and at least his flesh would go to better use than the smouldering char of his mother.

He could not die here. He could not let the Green-Eyed Queen take his mother and then be devoured in turn.

He sheathed his claws. He let his arms fall. The spider eased their weight on him until he could roll to his side and see the smoking cage atop its doused embers. He curled up tight as he had been in the womb, and lay there.

He let out a single mewl, his next but never-to-be-last breath, and wept.

Two thousand years later on a hazy bonfire dawn, Narinder will kneel in a circle of gray stone and let the memories come for him. He will remember disciples, and siblings, and priests, and knights. He will remember temple halls and celebrations. He will remember camaraderie and wine and soldiers and conquest. He will remember his mother’s purr and her gentle claws grooming behind his ears. He will remember six dead sisters and understand, for the first time, how his mother’s life was a tragedy and that he had never wept for her, only for himself.

But on that day, in the distant past, on a battlefield swiftly stripped of gold and armor and weapons, with the corpses left to lay in the grass, Narinder limped with Kallamar’s help to his mother’s cage. The squid merely touched the cool iron with a word and it corroded away, letting him inside with a nervous word that anything of value had been taken from her already by her captors.

All he wanted was one more moment with her, if the charred husk flung against the bottom of the cage was anything of her at all. He wanted to make a promise. He wanted her to know he would do it, as he knelt beside her and placed both hands on the corpse.

“I will kill the Green-Eyed Queen,” he whispered, his voice still raw and wet from screaming. “When I am done there will be no more queens.”

When he saw the glint of red he knew she heard him. The corpse was just a corpse, so even his young hands could reach into the charred meat and pry out the sharp edges of a dead womb.

Theirs was a world where faith and prayer could change fate. The cycle of devotion from a mother to her son crafted a crown with a single red eye. The memory of six dead daughters crystalized with intent to preserve one perfect son.

He put on the crown and went back to Shamura.

His mother protected him. Always.

[Next] <- Coming in like 5 minutes.

I have the Cat's Mother, the Worm's Mother, and the Lamb's Mother all written. Trying to get a full fic to work but at least this "prologue" bit is done. If I actually reach the plot I'll post this to AO3 with its actual title.

#cult of the lamb #cotl narinder #cotl red crown #when it's narilamb I'll tag the narilamb #next up is Leshy #if I get to write this fic it'll be the best religious trauma dump #cotl shamura #cotl kallamar #sunny writes #Estrangement of Lords #Estrangement AU

47 notes · View notes

bonefall · 8 months

Note

Are there any changes to Smokepaw (ShadowClan Apprentice in TNP) in BB? He is my all time favourite Warriors character for literally no reason, he existed twice, the second time to fall off a cliff and die, but I love him. I feel like he was a huge waste of potential, in that first time he appeared I thought of Blackstar as a sort of parental figure to him. Think like Firepaw and Bluestar, maybe? Or maybe more like Firepaw and Yellowfang? I'm sure that was just me serious projecting onto like less than a page of screen time, but I am so attached to him. I even made an AU where there was a conveniently placed river that swept him away to the Sundrown Place where he was taken in by Midnight.

Does BB have anything for my little guy?

Smokefall! Given an obligatory Sardonic ShadowClan name after he fell off a cliff and forced the entire journey to halt in its tracks for almost a month!

because shadowclan is like, ridiculously small and the family tree is a brick, Smokepaw (TNP), Smokepaw (Field Guides), and Smokefoot (Po3) are reworked. SmokeFALL survives, Smokepaw is now BILLOWCLOUD, and Smokefoot is SMOGFOOT.

Smog and Smoke are siblings. Billowcloud is not related to them.

Anyway, Smokepaw got REALLY hurt in that fall, but did survive

A (currently unpicked) Tribe cat actually climbed all the way down to get him. He had to be carried the rest of the way.

But once safe, he really couldn't move or else jeopardize his recovery. That, paired with a lack of travelling rations and a few pregnant cats close to delivery halted the Journey.

But Smokepaw still got ribbed relentlessly for "holding everyone up." Poor guy. ShadowClan humor.

Talonpaw got really close to him in that time. In fact, a LOT of cats developed close bonds in this "intermission," including many of the cats who would ultimately support Mudclaw's claim in WindClan.

Brambleclaw and Hawkfrost, as well.

In general, this is a really important hiatus because it's adding some PIVOTAL breathing room for cats to bond free of Clan divisions.

Clan Culture is never really the same after this. It's a change a long time coming.

He is also one of Birchfall's friends. This entire apprentice/kit generation has a very odd view on Clan divisions, because the Destruction of White Hart and the subsequent journey were so formative.

It was actually Smokepaw's "idea" to make Paw Soup. It came from a suggestion towards some WindClan apprentices, that they should try to make an ancient gumbo recipe that hadn't been seen since the start of Heatherstar's campaign.

Birchkit and his big bro Spiderpaw butted in, RiverClan apprentices didn't want to be left out, and the rest is history.

They never did make that gumbo but they made something new.

At the Lake, he also prevents Talonpaw from dying to Jacques and The Dreaded Susan. By also getting his ass beat.

(But that's probably gonna be offscreen because im not dedicating several chapters to it like canon when theres a civil war that should be in focus)

Smokefall becomes the next Educator of ShadowClan, and the mate of Talonclaw. Eventually Smogfoot surrogates a kit for them-- probably Pinenose.

The couple shows up at various points throughout Po3 and OotS as very important friends of Birchfall, and general friendly faces in ShadowClan which is a major ally through the arcs.

Sadly, though, they meet a gruesome and tragic end in AVoS. The Kin is a cult, and once it takes power, it immediately targets the one who teaches history. Smokefall. Talonclaw refuses to abandon his mate.

His position is taken by the infamous Berryheart, who is the educator through TBC. He is survived by several grandkits through Pinenose-- Slatefur, Puddleshine, and Happyface.

#BB!Smokefall #BB!Talonclaw #Better bones au #an obscene amount of cats are going to die to the Kin #in canon shadowclan has too many mass death events and not enough cats to actually get through them all #but for BB I'm like.. prepping for it #And to BEGIN with ShadowClan is RIDICULOUSLY small #Like. Obscenely small. And in the modern era it only got large because two queens produced an insane amount of children #It's essentially 3 families it's fucking baaaaaddd #So like. Even if I didn't want to save Smokepaw I NEEDED him because this is ridiculous #But I did want to. Because I like him. And I don't like that most of the TNP deaths are shadowclan for like no reason

90 notes · View notes

silentmagi · 3 months

Text

Rising Star

Main Page

I want to thank everyone for taking the time to read and vote. I hope you’re still enjoying the story.

Where should Star go first?

3. The general store and herbalist

Eager to be on her way as swiftly as possible, she went to the general store first, and the man that was there seemed almost stereotypical for manning such a store. Broad shoulder, equally broad waistline, a warm and hearty greeting. “Welcome! Welcome!” he called out the instant she crossed the threshold for the store. “What can I do for you?”

“Do you carry rations for travel?” she asked, taking in the various goods on display. The change of clothing was tempting, however she knew that she would have to wait until she got back to Castledale.

The shop clerk looked at the shelves behind the front counter and nodded to himself. “I have a lot of them. Fresh yesterday. Honey oat bread with dried meats and fruits. All from the local stores. Three pieces of copper each.”

“Perfect, two silver will cover six of them, and then, would you have any get for people going on adventures?” she asked while digging the coins out of her coin purse.

“How about a basic adventurer’s kit? It comes with a pack, some rope, a tinderbox, a waterskin, and ten days of rations, three silver for the lot.”

Pursing her lips, she considered the purchase. It was useful stuff, and she had lost her own pack in the tower collapse. The cost was probably going to pay off in getting to the academy again again. “Okay, five silver for the rations and the kit,” she agreed, before setting the coins on the counter, watching him load up the pack and pass it over to her.

“Thank you,” he offered with a laugh, setting the change on the counter before collecting the five silver. “Safe travels, where are you off to?”

“Castledale, are the roads clear?” she asked, hoping to get news of their travel.

The clerk stroked his chin before shaking his head. “Can’t say as I know miss, you can ask Juniper next door, she travels that way for herbs sometime. Or the Inn may have travelers… Official reports are at the Town Hall of course.”

“Wonderful, thank you,” she offered before shrugging on the heavy pack, and turning to leave. “The trade goddess watch over you.”

“Safe travels miss!” the clerk called out as she pushed through the front door.

Walking next door, she found the standard herbalist shop, full of herbal supplements and concoctions. Tinctures and lotions. Potions may not be effective without magic, but nature was still full of healing properties. A familiar smell reached her nose, letting her know that ‘herbal supplements’ that had ‘healing properties’ were available. She knew others at the academy partook of this vice, however, she’d never been particularly interested.

Until this past week she had thought her nerves were steady and didn’t need to take the edge off. Now? Now she was tempted. “Hello?” she called out, looking around. It was a neater shop than she expected, and it seemed that everything out front was more in line for what she was looking for. While waiting for a response, she leaned over to look closer at a pot of lotion, reading the card in front of it carefully. Aches and pains, she had plenty, and it would help restore some of her skin’s softness.

It was a bit pricey at 3 silver for the pot, but she was tempted. She knew that it would be useful, and getting the components would be hard to do on the road to the academy. Straightening up, she rubbed the small of her back, only to leap back when a face came out of the wooden pillar next to her. “Oh! Hello! I’m Juniper, and welcome to my shop,” the face answered before disappearing and a slat slipped back into place. The pillar opened up, releasing a cloud of smoke before she could shut it. “Sorry about that, some clients needed my help… how can I help you?”

“Uh… I’ve been battered about a little on my travels and feeling sore, I was looking for something to help with that?”

“Oh… that would be the salve you were looking at, yes. We also have some dried bark that you could take as a powder, or drink as a tea…” Juniper mused while her red rimmed eyes looked over the various products. Her blonde hair was pulled back with a rag, and the smoke from downstairs clung to her like a perfume.

“I’ll take the salve, thank you… three silver?”

“Is that what it says?” the herbalist asked before leaning over to check the sign, giving Star a view of her firm and shapely posterior. There was temptation that burned in Star’s chest, one that the mage longed to act on.

She was not going to do it. She had self-control. Thank you.

Making the transaction, and getting an invite to come back and try some house specials later, she decided that she had to be busy, or gone. As her stomach pleaded for some snacks, she looked at the other choices to get the supplies she needed.

#Story #My Writing #Rising Star #My Polls #Star #World Building #Please Participate #Star Main

43 notes · View notes

coyoteclan · 8 months

Text

A bunch of cats that followed coyote paths to the clans!

Main blog: @mxssacre

Hi clangen tumblr I have no idea what I'm doing so be prepared for a MESS of a blog <3

A quick TW for the blog: Coyoteclan WILL contain violence, foul language, blood, animal death and dark themes. Lots of silly cats die here :(

I'll be doing my best to also insert some comic-style lore excerpts between working on moon events for important lore! The prologue comic will be posted before moon one because I am so so reluctant to actually go the the first moon yet LMAO

More info on the clan founders below the cut!

Frondstar - 93 moons A black ticked she-cat with vitiligo. Former show cat with a strong love for the order clan laws brought to her chaos.

apprentice: Cavepaw

Leafclaw - 19 moons A long-furred pale gray and white she-cat. Made a deputy despite her young age and lack of mentoring an apprentice due to her diligence and care for her clanmates during their travels.

Longbillow - 47 moons A pale gray smoke and white tom. His ghost sense made him the best option for med cat, as their starclan guide, Bluewave, was a med cat in life and is able to pass down her knowledge to her former clanmates.

Mitehaze - 42 moons A long-furred speckled dark ginger and white she-cat. Adores her clanmates! Wants to be friends with Grayswan as she recognizes her from the old housefolk nests.

apprentice: Burrpaw

Shimmerbounce - 20 moons An unusually spotted gray and white tom. Loves playing games with the kits.

Grayswan - 46 moons A long-furred black and white she-cat. Smug and disliked by most of her clanmates, but particularly dislikes Mitehaze.

Burrpaw - 10 moons A long-furred light brown smoke she-cat. Loves everyone, taking after her mentor and caretaker, Mitehaze! Always tries to be a good role model.

Cavepaw - 8 moons A long-furred pale and white she-cat. Can be proud to a fault, and takes a dislike to Leafclaw, thinking she could make a better deputy one day.

Streakkit - 1 moon An unusually dappled brown and white she-cat.

Dancingkit - 2 moons A calico she-cat.

#art #clangen #warrior cats #coyoteclan #now if you excuse me I am going to. follow SO MANY CLAN BLOGS #I need MORE silly cats #also this might as well just be fuzzy girlboss clan DAMN #only 2 toms and Frond is the only one with a short coat #Long and Shimmer would never be excluded for girls night tho #Also Frond is 100% an oriental shorthair. I need to nail the gremlin cat look for her soon

134 notes · View notes

kingsleywrites · 10 months

Text

If I'm Taking Care Of Your Ass Then I Sure As Hell Ain't Doing It Sober.

Revivebur x Las Navadas!Male Reader (Romantic)

Fluff, slight suggestive stuff, no smut

Prompt: Reveivebur comes to Las Navadas hurt, he's already here so why not take pity on the poor man and help him out, not without a couple of drinks first though.

CW/TW: Drinking, mentions of blood, mentions of stitching, smoking, cursing

M/N is also a bartender for Quackity

M/N is used (meaning male name)

S/C is used (meaning skin color)

M/N was sitting in his living room, bored out of his goddamn mind. Normally when he was this bored, he'd break into his liquor cabinet, open a bottle of some kind of liquor or cheap wine, and drink till he was shit faced. And he would, unless he wanted to go to work with the worst hangover known to man. You see, Quackity was oh so kind enough to stick M/N on one of the earlier shifts (early being 12) which didn't sit well with the man who stays up till 3 am and sleeps till 3 pm to go to his more normal shifts at 5 pm.

So he was stuck, he could go for a walk, but that would mean he had to leave his house. He could read a book except that it wasn't good enough. Living in Las Navadas was great, he had a great boss and a nice house and a good paying job but that doesn't mean that the slowly growing city had more to do than gamble and drink, which was fun until it got repetitive.

M/N was on the verge of entering the existential crisis talk until a knock came from his door. Which was definitely new. It probably wouldn't be Quackity, that man just spams your communicator with calls and messages till you reply, and Slime had no reason to be at your house at this hour. So who the hell was bothering your mental turmoil? M/N reluctantly got up to answer the door.

"Okay who are you and why the hell- " M/N looked up at the man standing at his doorstep.

"Wilbur fucking Soot." M/N said through his teeth, he crossed his arms and leaned against his door frame.

"In the flesh, literally considering I'm revived, courtesy of Dream may I add." Wilbur had an shit eating grin on his face as he stared at the male in front of him.

M/N did a small face laugh, "Why the hell are you here?" his demeanor quickly changed back to serious.

"What? Can I not come back and see an old friend?"

"You have to be friends in the first place to do that Wilbur, now tell me what you want or I'll just leave you here."

Wilbur straightened his posture and M/N finally noticed that he was holding his arm. His eye traveled down to his hand, where he saw blood start to drip.

M/N quickly grabbed Wilbur's hand, his eyes widening at the sight of the dripping blood. "Asshole, you're gonna get blood on my front porch!" M/N pulled Wilbur inside, closing the door.

"My, my, M/N if you wanted to hold my hand you should've just asked I would've said yes." Wilbur smirked while M/N rolled his eyes.

"Go sit on the couch and don't get blood anywhere, if you do I'll behead you." M/N let go of his hand and walked into his bathroom to find a first aid kit.

After he grabbed one he set it on the coffee table before walking over to his liquor cabinet.

Wilbur laughed lightly as he watched the male rummage through the various bottles, who turned around with an annoyed glare on his face.

"What are laughing about smart ass?"

"Does Quackity not pay you enough to afford proper rubbing alcohol?"

"No, he pays me plenty." The male grabbed a glass and filled it with a couple cubes of ice. "This is for me."

M/N slowly sipped the liquor as he walked back to the couch, sitting next to Wilbur.

"Take off your jacket so I can see what you did." M/N set the cup down and opened the first aid kid while Wilbur took off his jack and folded it neatly behind him.

M/N looked at his arm, slowly pulling the torn fabric away from the wound. "It doesn't look terrible, maybe a few stitches, but you'll live. Now take off your shirt."

"Don't you think you should ask me out first? It's a little rude to ask me to undress seeing as we haven't spoken in so long." That same smirk dawned Wilbur's face.

"Not like that idiot! I meant it as in, let me see the wound better."

Wilbur chuckled to himself, seemingly pleased with getting a rise out of him and removed his shirt placing it on top of his jacket.

M/N grabbed a few rubbing alcohol pads and started slowly cleaning the wound on Wilbur's arm, taking a "small sip" from the glass on the coffee table. After a few times of getting up to throw away blooded gaze pads and rubbing alcohol pads and filling up his glass on the way, he decided to grab the whole bottle of liquor, as well as a bottle of wine and two glasses. M/N filled up the two glasses handing one to Wilbur.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of being granted the pleasure of drinking with you?"

"Stop speaking so poshly, I get it you're fancy, now shut up while I finish wrapping your arm."

Wilbur backed off the male but kept a smile on his face as he watched him wrap his arm in bandages.

When he was done, M/N snipped off the extra and put it back in the first aid kit. He quickly downed the rest of his wine and went to put the first aid kit away.

When he got back, his body was facing forward and his head was tilted upwards toward the ceiling. "I hate you." M/N mumbled.

"How come? All I did was ask for your help, which you could've denied, might I add." Wilbur's tone was somewhat mocking and he put an arm around M/N, playing with the hair on his head.

"I told myself I wasn't going to drink tonight and look where I'm at."

"Well, it's not like I told you to drink."

"If I'm taking care of your ass I'm sure as hell not doing it sober." M/N turned his head to look at the male beside him, he brought a hand up to his face and began to trace down his jawline, stopping at the corner of his lips. M/N slowly climbed over to Wilbur's lap, neither of them breaking eye contact. Wilbur's arms rested at M/N's waist while M/N's other hand rested in Wilbur's crest feeling the soft skin on his fingertips.

M/N leaned in closer to Wilbur, lips slightly parted as they each waited for the other to make a move.

"You do realize the consequences that this can have if you go through with this." Wilbur's voice was barely above a whisper.

"And what's 'this'" M/N giggled as one of his hands slowly moved to the base of Wilbur's hair, lightly playing with the strands.

"I don't think Quackity will like it very much if you kiss his enemy."

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him."

The two got even closer, lips brushing against each other.

"You willing to make that bet?" Wilbur's lips curled into a small smile.

"I'll bet everything I got, pretty boy."

Wilbur laughed lightly before pulling M/N in by his waist, kissing his lips. M/N's hands further tangled themselves in Wilbur's hair while Wilbur's hands were untucking M/N's neat dress shirt, almost desperate to feel his S/C skin.

The two broke apart for air, breathing heavily for a moment before Wilbur began kissing down his jaw and neck.

"God I hate you so much." M/N said, half out of breath

Wilbur hummed on his skin, lightly nipping at it before answering the male.

"If you hate me so much then tell me to stop and I will." Wil looked at M/N, still leaving a trail of kisses on his neck, none of them deep enough to create a hickey though, Wilbur was smarter than that.

M/N let out an airy chuckle, pulling at Wilbur's hair. "No, you're too hot to stop."

Wilbur kissed his cheek, looking M/N in the eyes. "And You're too drunk for me to continue."

M/N groaned, tilting head back. "Why must you do this to me?"

Wilbur chuckled, "Maybe another time darling."

M/N got off his lap, stumbling before regaining his balance, but he was still swaying back and forth.

Wilbur went to grab his jumper before M/N put a hand on Wilbur's cheek making him look back at him.

"Please don't leave." He looked at him with pleading eyes that not even Wilbur could say no to.

"Alright, I'll stay." He stood up and gave M/N a quick kiss before picking him up bridal style and then walked down the hall, M/N's arm was stretched out to one of the doors and Wilbur assumed it was his room.

Once Wilbur sat him down on the bed, M/N quickly began to take off the uncomfortable suspenders and dress shirt before laying down and making grabby hands at Wilbur, who laid next to him.

After a few minutes of cuddling, M/N spoke up.

"I hate you so much." He said holding on tighter to Wilbur and burying his face in his chest.

"I love you too darling."

********

Another one in the bags. I got this idea from reading another story on Wattpad, it's called MidNight Walks by mannequins_inafeild, despite only having two chapters I really liked it so I would consider checking it out!

Also who knew writing kissing scenes was so hard? I literally took a break to work on another story (the one that came out before this one actually) because I didn't know where to go or how to do it. I hope it wasn't too awkward. I don't know how many more scenes I'm gonna do like that in the future but give me some feedback, I'd like to hear your thoughts!

Word Count: 1557

144 notes · View notes

catgirltoofies · 2 months

Text

dragon's dogma's dlc isn't even remotely what people claim it to be

what people say: "you need to pay for fast travel! you need to pay for extra lives! you need to pay for character editing!"

the actual truth:

- you can pay for one mark location. this is an undeniable advantage, especially considering how early you're given it. the portcrystal is overpowered and i think it's the only dlc here that actually really matters

- you can pay for up to five extra lives. you can't buy more than the five dlcs, and getting wakestones is extremely, extremely easy if you want to bother to grind them. especially from the start of the game; every pawn starts with a quest where you get ⅓ of a wakestone for having them in your party for a day. if you really wanted to grind out wakestones, you could hire two fresh pawns, sit on a bench until a day passes, then dismiss the pawns and hire another pair. i don't even know why this dlc exists it's not even valuable and you can just. lose it. they're consumable. it shouldn't exist but not because it's an evil mtx, it's just weird.

- you don't need to pay to edit your character or your pawn. you can buy the art of metamorphosis for 500 RC, which you can get easily by simply playing online and having people hire your pawn, which they will do as long as you're online. I've been playing about 20 hours and have over 2000 RC, enough to buy 4 arts of metamorphosis. and even if you DON'T play online, for whatever reason, you can get RC as rare drops from enemies, so given time you can just build up a stock. in addition, following in the assumption it'll be like the first game, you'll be able to edit your arisen and pawn after entering ng+, which is probably a lot more investment than just fighting some cyclopes for RC.

- to discuss the other dlcs. you can buy RC directly, but there's not much reason to so far unless you want glasses or to change your pawn inclination.

- you can buy a makeshift gaol key, which will break you out of jail once, or you can buy one from a number of traveling merchants for like 1000 gold, which is a pittance

- you can buy the pawn inclination change items. these are more expensive to get with RC, clocking in at 2k RC, but inclination isn't really very necessary to change, and certainly not often.

- you can buy a pack of 3 harpysnare smoke beacons, which... do something? they let you grab onto harpies in certain areas and ride them to other places, but i don't know how useful this actually is in general, and I'm pretty sure you can just buy them from some general stores for a couple thousand gold

- you can buy a heartfelt pendant, which is a gift item that makes someone like you. the only relevance to this mechanic, as far as i know, is getting merchants to give you a discount, and for rp to have your beloved related to story events (assuming it follows the same as the first game). in the case of merchants, you can just look at their favorite items and give them Three (3) of their liked items and they'll be at max affection. in the case of your rp beloved, well, you should already care about them. you should get them what they love instead of just buying a pretty necklace. also if you want to search for every seeker token you can get the arisen's bond that way to max anyone's affection.

- you can buy a mod that changes music and sounds to be from DD1. to each their own

- you can buy a special camping kit. it's lighter than the normal kit, so it's helpful, but you can also just buy it for 6000 gold from some traders without needing to buy it.

- you can't even buy ferrystones. you don't even pay for fast travel you pay for a portable fast travel point, which still costs a very expensive ferrystone to teleport to.

- if you see the steam reviews, they're mixed. if you change the filter to only see reviews from people who have played the game for at least nine hours, that changes to mostly positive. the significant majority of negative reviews were made before even playing the game for NINE HOURS.

- there are other valid complaints about this game, this post is exclusively addressing the dlc. i will continue to defend this game because it's really really fun and I'm really annoyed at the review bombs by people who have no idea what they're talking about and are just parroting something they heard on twitter without actually knowing anything about what they're saying

- p.s. i want to be clear; i don't think microtransactions are a good thing and i genuinely believe none of these dlcs should be available as dlc, for various reasons (mostly detailed above). but the issues i have with them are generally the opposite of the issues people cry about, and i want to make clear that while there are problems with them and plenty of reasons NOT to buy the dlcs, the oft-cried reasons are misleading at best and outright false at worst

#dragon's dogma 2

46 notes · View notes