usshiwaka
manipulate mansplain malewife
au revoir, baby!
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Welcome!
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so i might uh. i might be uh. rebooting a muse from 2019. i’m still cleaning up his blog and need to update a lot of pages including making a document but he’s over here @blindhavoc if you wanna party with him
#ill do replies here on waka soon when im not feeling like death but im also slowly working on this old blog again so<3#hey.#goes back to ffxiv byeee
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hey please help me fix my tooth
recently an abscess formed in one of my molars and was very painful. it burst last night which got rid of some of the pain but i still need to get it fixed immediately. i went in for an emergency appointment at the dentist and the two options i have are 1) root canal and crown and 2) extract. obviously extraction is MUCH cheaper, but i really don’t want to lose a tooth this early in my life.
i don’t know how much the first option will be, but i know it’ll be over $1k, at the least. so i really need help. and i need this as soon as possible.
i’ve been struggling to find work due to mental health as well as some discriminatory practices due to me being openly transgender in a very conservative area. i’m still working very hard to find a job in the meantime.
i’m hoping i’m able to get enough money to at least get the root canal started and i can pay it off over time. so my paypal is right here: paypal.me/shamusiel
PLEASE DISREGARD MY DEADNAME THANK YOU
anything helps. please reblog this, likes don’t help at all, and you’re free to share it elsewhere, too.
edit: i was just informed the link that i copied and pasted to my paypal was screwed up so i went and fixed that now. if you’re reblogging a version with the old link just remove all the extra stuff after “shamusiel” in the url.
#hey yall this is my main#i really need some help... even if you cant send anything a reblog goes a long way
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bleedinghearth:
Oh, his mildly rude interloper has a nice voice, and a nice laugh. No, now’s not the time to be distracted, he just met this guy, and doesn’t even know his face! But, his mood lifts as his forelocks are gently fiddled with, and he lets off steam- quite literally- with a rumbling snort, a cloud borne from his massive lungs swirling through Agata’s already-misty air.
Then, his assailant is on the end of his slender snout, and he wiggles it a bit, nostrils flaring as he gets used to the slight weight on his nose.
This frippery-covered fruit-loop offers nothing but genuineness, and his word is accepted with another snort, eyes like embers staring into him, pupils wide, taking him in. He’s unearthly pretty, not too different from a Seelie Fae, but the Fae were also not types to lie. If he has no reason to lead him to danger, then Teddy has no choice but to take his word at face value; the trees are too dense for him to fly out, and he’s out of options.
His mysterious guide springs off his nose, and his snout wrinkles, lip curling up in what would be a terrifying display of dozens of pearly, jagged teeth…if it wasn’t the immediate precedent of a fiery sneeze, doused by the water in the air and the ground.
The dragon sniffs, and plods carefully forward, head craned toward this odd, fancy man. “Mm. Appreciate it. You mind handing over a name, there, Twinkle Toes? You can call me Teddy.”
The mighty sneeze sends a few birds scattering, a gust of steam shooting up from the crystal clear waters and washing over Waka. Unpleasantly humid. He pulls at the front of his kimono to air it out a bit, breathing in. The steam is gone as soon as it comes, however, spreading out with the low mist before eventually dissipating. He turns fully towards the dragon, balancing on the thin branch with ease.
He smiles wider and, with a sweeping bow accompanied by a ripple of sparkles following his graceful movements, he says, “My name is Waka, here to save you from this ancient forest and everything that lurks within.” As though a dragon of this size needs saving. He’s mostly jesting, anyway. “Enchanté.”
Waka turns again, leaping once more to another tree branch. He doesn’t move too quickly, giving his large companion enough time to trudge through the water and duck beneath branches so he can actually follow him. Agata can be confusing if you’re not familiar with it, and there are plenty of demons still looking for a chance to strike any unsuspecting passerby.
“Where are you from?” He asks, looking back over his shoulder. “You’re quite unlike any dragon I’ve seen.”
He huffs out a laugh through his nose.
“The world beyond Nippon harbors many things, it seems.”
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i don’t normally do this but if you interact with/are friends with @/miriokumuses don’t follow me. you can see why here. huge trigger warnings for incest, pedophilia, and grooming. i’m not tagging this as a callout because it’s just a warning post, sorry.
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your character can look as fucked up and evil as possible and waka won’t even blink
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"Hey, how do you, like, tell people you think they're fuckin' annoying as hell and you want them to go away but you can't exactly say those words or else they'd shoot you in the face with a knife gun? Asking for a friend. That friend is me. You seem way more put together than like. Ninety percent of my usual convo partners, and I think it'd be wise if I got more... outside perspectives on this. Unless you think I should get a load of knives to my face, which I completely understand."
Who is this guy...?
He waits patiently for the other to finish speaking and, somewhere in the back of his mind, wonders if this is how other people feel when he goes off on one of his monologues. Probably. Not going to think too much about it, though.
“Well, my friend, I can’t say I know enough about you to tell whether you should get a load of knives in your face. But this requires tact, and from what I can see, you’re quite lacking in that department.” Waka taps his chin. How to help this fellow go about this with some semblance of diplomacy...
... He’s not actually that used to people coming to him for advice over something like this. Sure, he’s always been a smooth-talker, but... he also has no problem with telling someone he finds them grating on the nerves. Which often gets him into some sticky situations.
“I would simply leave.” Easy. He shrugs. “Not that anyone can easily follow me, after all.”
Not helpful whatsoever.
“‘Go away, s’il vous plaît.’ Something like that. I’m sure you are capable of being quite charming. If it were me, though, I would tell them I think they are annoying. Whatever you think is best, really. I’m no expert, and I’m not responsible for any injuries you might sustain. Just go for it.”
#this is so fucking funny thank you#waka isn't helpful at all he's usually the one people want to go away#candid's gonna get a load of knives to his face i think#rotaidevxr#ask.
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god i wanted to actually knock out all my drafts (i have 3 left) but my brain is in a fog so i’ll snooze a little and try to get one or two more done later
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lovereath:
When it becomes obvious that the newcomer is unaffected by Wigglytuff’s attempts to be threatening, she turns to hiding behind Mitsuri’s leg. Her glare is still set on the possible ‘threat’. Her focus so set on the trainer before them that she doesn’t even notice the Xatu that’s landed atop the building. The Murkrow in the surroundings have noticed however are wholly uninterested in the pokemon. A few of them seem to even be actively avoiding getting caught in his stare.
When hearing it was his first time at the dojo a small excited gasp came from Mitsuri. She adored getting to show new visitors around! Though she’d only recently become one of the dojo leaders she felt an immense pride in regards to the dojo. Not to mention she didn’t get to meet charming mysterious people like this often!
“We’d love to have you as a challenger or just a visitor! We don’t get people up here very often so it’s always exciting to see new faces!” At least she thought so. She knew a few of the other leaders preferred when things were quiet around the dojo.
“Please follow me up the stairs.” She gestured for him to follow her as she took the last few steps up towards the dojo. From the front the dojo itself seemed fairly short however it seemed to reach rather far back into the woods. The trees around it grew taller then the building, almost covering it from an aerial view. It helped that many of the trees in the woods were fairly old while the building itself was only a few decades old.
“Okay so umm…” Where did she start? There was so much to share, she wanted to tell him everything at once! But according to her friends that got pretty confusing pretty quickly. The sight of the Murkrow in the trees gave her an idea. “AH! If you’ll notice there’s a lot of Murkrow around! That’s because they’re all part of the Ubuyashiki clan. The original founder of the dojo cared for lots of injured Murkrow and passed that practice down to his family. Now all the Murkrow families hang around! You can even see some sitting on the roof-”
She stops mid sentence when she finally sees the Xatu sitting atop the building staring at them. Wiggytuff also notices the other pokemon and nearly jumps three feet at the sight. Despite the startle reaction she’s quick to jump in front of Mitsuri and Waka. Her own trainer quickly grabs her holding her back. “That’s new. We don’t get many Xatu around here. The Murkrow usually chase wild ones off. They can be pretty territorial.” The comments are towards herself then anything. But when a particular thought seems to hit her she quickly turns her attention back to Waka, concern evident in her expression. “AH! You don’t think they’re hurt, do you?”
It’s quite a lovely place, and his guide is very charming in her own way. She looks ready to vibrate out of her own skin with her excitement. Waka follows close behind, staying silent and allowing her to gather her thoughts and speak. A few Murkrow caw overhead, small shadows passing above, flitting from one branch to another and occasionally settling on the rooftop. Sunlight dapples against the ground from where it cuts through the leaves. Yes, lovely. Very peaceful. He thinks he enjoys it here already and makes a mental note that he should, perhaps, come back again one day when he has the time.
He listens to her intently, pleasantly, politely. All until she skids to a stop mid-sentence and has her eyes fixed somewhere above, on the rooftop. Both brows raise, especially when Wigglytuff jumps into action in an attempt to shield the two from the perceived threat.
... Which happens to be his own Xatu sitting at the edge of the roof, a silent and unblinking guardian. The Pokémon appears unaffected by the sudden shift in the air, remaining stock-still even with three pairs of eyes focused on him. It’s likely he already saw this coming, really. Naturally gifted with precognition and whatnot, just as Waka was.
Mitsuri is turning back to him quickly; her concern is endearing, really. Waka’s smile stretches wider, his eyes sparkling with amusement. Perhaps he should have introduced his partner as well when he first arrived, but, well... better late than never, right?
“Oh, no, not at all,” he replies. “You see, he’s with me. I apologize for not introducing you sooner.”
Waka looks back up and brings two fingers to his lips to give a sharp whistle. Xatu’s head turns, staring at him. Then with one beat of his wings, the Pokémon glides down to him and settles at his side. Waka reaches over to stroke along his beak, over the soft green feathers of his head. For once, Xatu blinks, clearly content.
“He’s very quiet and prefers to observe. I assure you he didn’t mean to startle you.”
Xatu lets out a low coo.
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ninetailedmenace:
Things had happened so fast, Haku could barely keep up with them. It probably didn’t help that the blood loss was starting to get to him and it seemed like things were slowing down, but he took a sick amount of glee from watching the demon before him get cut down, a grin on his features as his savior easily overpowered and destroyed the creature that Haku himself had struggled with.
As the demons body began to fade, and he was addressed directly by the other would Haku manage to pull himself up, clutching onto his Khakharra with both hands as he’d grunt underneath the porcelain mask he wore, a chunk of it breaking off to expose the marred fur underneath as he’d give his savior a thankful nod.
“I overestimated my own strength, and underestimated my enemies… It is a mistake I shall not make again.” He’d grunt roughly though, almost falling down to his knees again, his teeth bared in a snarl hidden behind that mask before he’d steady himself once more.
“I’ll be fine, thank you… Ah, what is your name? I’d rather properly thank the one who saved me, after all.”
Fur. Waka blinks slowly, catlike. Interesting. He won’t say anything about it for now—it isn’t like Nippon is without its fair share of odd creatures, and he’s plenty aware of those fox clans that keep themselves mostly hidden away.
“An easy mistake to make,” he says with a shrug. “I cannot say I haven’t made the same mistake in the past. So long as you learn from it. But you’re alive, that’s what matters right now.”
The prophet is quickly at the other’s side, an arm held out for him to grab onto if he needs to. The stench of blood is thick and heavy in the air. Waka is acutely aware of the blood running down his own leg from where the demon had managed to slice him, the pain swinging repeatedly from sharp to dull. He’ll deal with it on his own time. Not like he hasn’t had worse.
“My name? Oh, you may call me Waka,” he responds, without his usual flair. Probably wouldn’t be that appropriate right now. He can save it for later, when the stranger isn’t bleeding all over the place. “You’re quite welcome. You’re sure you’ll be fine? That is a lot of blood, monsieur.”
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waka doesn’t know how to give direct answers to anything
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Your fellow fallen god Tsukiyomi. Discuss.
“There is a reason night and day are separated.” He pauses, letting silence take over, his eyes turning up to the glowing moon. “My people were never proud of it. Such brutality over something that was so ultimately benign in the end.”
It was mostly a legend, however. Details a little bit foggy. No one he knew then had been alive when it happened.
“Disgraced long before I was born. I often wonder if he seeks forgiveness, but I don’t know if she would ever look his way again. It takes a lot to anger Amaterasu, you know. And one should never anger the sun herself, unless you wish to burn in her flames.”
A low hum bubbles up in his throat.
“There are times when I think about how lucky I was that they let me stay in the celestial realm. I, a moon prophet... it was kindness undeserved. In the end, my people were just as violent as he was.”
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“The moon is literally just a rock.”
“Perhaps to you. I do think much of civilization takes the moon for granted. He does more for us than we often realize.”
He taps his chin.
“Ah, well. I suppose it can’t be helped. But it wouldn’t hurt to thank him every once in a while.”
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happy bappy okami i know i only just played you a month ago but you're one of my fav games now 💖💖💖💖
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Gabriela Mistral, tr. by Randall Couch, From Madwomen: The Locas Mujeres Poems of Gabriela Mistral, a Bilingual Edition; “Electra in the mist”
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mamaterasu:
his tears fall freely, expression collapsing into a whirlwind of unbidden emotions as he falls to the ground, as the thin veil of strength splinters like silvered glass. the tears were always there somewhere, locked within and tightly sealed over many years. time wore away, time carried on, yet where did that put him ? them ? us ? so much lost and then so much remembered, the clasp which sealed the ark shut had long since been sealed again, the ice from kamui still clinging onto the hard slaps of stone. but the snow has thawed away, as all must do in time. thaw away and reveal the lush saplings and smaller spurts of green beneath.
and so it goes.
she holds him as she did before, as she always will. holds him so very tightly and so very softly, all at once, never leaving his side nor ebbing away into a faint dream. this is real. the curve of her hand trails down while another reaching forward to press against his cheek, brushing away golden strands and stray tears.
leaning down, her form ripples and careens, pooling past him like foamy waters bubbling forth from a brook and mountain stream. the warm light of spring splashes across his back. ❝ i do. ❞ no more than a whisper yet it is felt all around, uttered into the very expanse of his soul and heart. for him. only him. she shakes her head. ❝ but now there is nothing more to forgive, other than to forgive yourself. ❞
the past is a curious thing for it exists and existed, it lives but remains dead and stunted, carrying the weight of a stone in the shape of an egg. the past cracks. splinters. time will come for it too, and those who thought they might still remembered eventually forget as well. she would unease the past from his shoulders and from the shadow of his soul, even if it was but a small relief. what is done can never be undone, making regret all the more weighty and pungent, stinging like a dagger pressed into the palm. what is done can never be undone, but there is still a chance to relieve the pain.
❝ you are home now. ❞ warm hands cradle his face, her form growing more physical and palpable to the touch and to the ear, settling on one distinct form among many others. amaterasu weeps tears of her own. they glitter and shimmer, and this is not the first nor the last time she too will cry, and there can be no shame in this, in neither. ❝ you are found. ❞ hope swells into fair jewelled baubles, into a faint breeze and the pleasant sound of the waves caressing the shore, of wild birds. hope and resolve. resolve then benevolence and dearest love. ❝ live for their memory, for your own and yourself, live and sing again. ❞
Hands and shoulders shake, his breathing hitched and ragged, that playful lilt in his smooth voice gone now and replaced with a grief that has been weighing heavily upon his shoulders for centuries. All he can do is shed tears that have been bottled up within him for so, so long, threatening to burst out like the volcanos of Ezofuji but brighter, louder, more violent. He weeps now not only for his people, not only for the Celestials, not only for Amaterasu, but all those lost in his time in the mortal realm. His men, the priestess, Himiko, all of them. So much that could have been avoided if, perhaps, he’d simply let himself be devoured like everyone he knew so long ago. If he’d let the Lunar Civilization be reduced to only a mere myth, nothing more.
But she forgives him. Despite everything, she forgives him.
Now he need only forgive himself, but can he?
That’s always the hardest part, deciding if you’re worth your own forgiveness or not. Waka has done many things, not all of them he’d proud of. He’s caused pain. He’s hurt people. He’s been brash and rude and selfish. It all pales in comparison, however, to the countless deaths of innocents caused directly by his own actions. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. Agonizing. Suffocating. That haunting thought of: What if something like that happens again?
( Because of me? )
His head slowly lifts, watery green eyes meeting those familiar dark ones. They’re filled with tears, too, thin rivulets sparkling against her cheeks. Even like this, she’s still beautiful. Once upon a time he had thought her too beautiful to even cast a glance in his direction, and part of him still does. Especially looking at her now. Trembling hands lift slowly, carefully, like he’s worried if he touches her again that she’ll disappear into thin smoke. Waka breathes in deep, his fingers running over her wet cheeks and palms smoothing out against her skin. Waves of white hair spill around him.
“We will live and sing together,” he manages. “For them. For ourselves, and each other.”
The tears are still hot on his skin, his eyes burning. His inhales are still sharp gasps, each exhale hard and shaking, but he still manages to move ever closer, his hands falling to her shoulders, then further down, before winding around her in a tight embrace. He presses his face close, breathes in the smell of her, eyes screwing shut. How many times has she comforted him like this? How many times has he returned the favor? It’s been so long...
“Thank you,” he finally says, voice barely above a whisper.
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