mosquitsune miku
something something digital footprint
Yeah, he can get it š
Idk, this wizard guy is kinda hot
Update, Hey guys, please do not use this as an excuse to be rude to people.. that is really weird. thanks..
Roland Topor for Felliniās Casanova, 1975
LOSING MY MIND !!!!!!! @skidotto just keeps making absolutley INSANE character art for my lovely oc's. This is May!! EVERYONE TELL HIM HOW COOL HIS ART IS R A H
The way (and I love her so much) my therapist is LITERATE?!?! I sit down with an I Feel statement and this warm and kindhearted woman smiles at me and READS ME FRONT, BACK, UPSIDE DOWN, AND FUCKING BACKWARDS like I know it's her job to Explain the Things to Me but she has just read, reread, annotated, and written an analytical essay on my emotional intelligence and mental health. When she hits me with the "I think we should unpack that :)" i KNOW I'm about to get the spark notes on the last three chapters fed to me like a baby bird.
This AMAZING concept art of early days Oryn and May is by @skidotto and is PHENOMENAL šššššš«š«š«š«š« absolutley obsessed with the life they were able to bring to characters that I never thought I'd get to see outside of my words on a page. I'm fucking FLOORED.
Everybody go get a com from them rn š
Definitley worth keeping up with this one !!!
still a draft - dm me if you wanna talk about it, I'd love nothing more!!
possible triggers ahead
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Nettlos was a quaint village as magical as the next. Its wooden cottages and winding cobblestone roads were nestled between a forest and a mountain range. It was almost true that the streets and houses themselves exuded an unassuming charm, with its simple way of life and humble inhabitants. Most villagers would never dream of leaving to seek adventure, nor to bring about any sort of change to their perfectly routine lifestyle. In fact, nothing worth writing about had happened in around 120 years, since the last appearance of the Rothaaring constellation.
On this particular night, the cat constellationās red eye shone brighter than the moon. Not a soul dared utter a word about the overhead demon. Windows bolted shut. Each door locked. Thieves afraid of being caught. Guards wary for their lives. Mothers gripped their children tight while fathers took stock of their belongings and prepared for the worst. All was still, not a single body dared roam the village streets under the intense red aura emanating above.
In one of the modest huts lining the quiet roads, Noka gripped her husband Ekelās hand tightly. Why did today have to be the day the red-eyed beast shows its face? What cruel joke were the gods playing on her? Her heart tried breaking free of her chest. Her whiskers twitched as she sensed a shift in the air. She was powerless to stop it, her water had already broken. Her second born was doomed.
To be born under Rothaaringās influence was to be cursed. Parents would often rather abandon their newborn in the cold night than let it suffer the life strewn with hardships that surely awaited it. It was a courtesy. After all, who would befriend the child knowing the stars themselves had conspired against it?
Ekel tried to stay strong. His wife needed him to be present. His palm moved gently against Nokaās soft brown fur. He cooed over her, whispering words of encouragement in what he knew to be her most trying time. Placing his forehead against hers, he silently prayed the gods keep the demon away from this otherwise pure moment. He knew he was fighting a losing battle, but dared not surrender to fear. His sheer desperation was all that kept his hopes alive.
ā
Ekel genuinely believed he was a lucky man. He had managed to build a good life for himself, even finding the woman of his dreams. Her beauty was beyond compare in his eyes. Her cinnamon fur shimmered in the light, teasingly playing with the delicate flecks of white scattered through it like markings only he was meant to discover. Her deep umber eyes spoke of forbidden secrets hidden in the exotic lands she had travelled. Even as she gave birth, Noka maintained her position as the pinnacle of creation. She had been perfectly crafted by the gods solely for his possession.
Having seen the beauty of Catfolk in a painting he acquired when he was not yet a man, he sought to marry into their culture. He left his village at fifteen years of age, determined to turn his fantasy into reality. The whole village cheered him on, jokes made at his expense chasing him as he left.
The man obsessed with cats.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Heās only looking for a pet.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Heāll never feel the touch of a real woman.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā His parents must be proud.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Imagine raising a weirdo like that.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Why couldnāt he just find a regular wife?
And now, back at his childhood home left behind by his parents, he begged for good fortune to look upon him and his gifts once more. His wife had already given birth to an unnervingly perfect half-human Catfolk daughter in Mei, and he hoped to grow old surrounded by the otherworldly beauty he had spent his life longing for.
ā
A sharp shriek pierced through the silence of that red night. Ekel was brought back to reality as he felt Nokaās grip tighten, her unsheathed claws digging into the back of his right hand, drawing blood. Her pants grew laboured, her eyes filled with distress. The pain was not dissimilar to having her insides being ripped to shreds. She couldnāt speak, her mouth opened and shut but no words would come out. She could only produce guttural growls and pained whimpers, the smell of blood and fear filling the air. The air scorched her dried throat, and she could almost taste the end of this colossal task approaching.
The wailing of a crying baby replaced Nokaās screams. Noka had birthed a healthy baby boy ā a miracle, considering the circumstances. Dizzied from exhaustion, her head fell flat onto the bed she lay upon, her neck giving under the weight, her eyes pulling themselves shut. Noka whispered, āhold on to him for me,ā her voice strained and weak. She just needed a few moments of rest after this particularly draining birth, which was far more difficult than her last one.
Cradling his pride softly in his arms, Ekel beckoned Mei into the room to meet her new brother. He rocked and bounced until the walls stopped echoing the childās piercing cries. Stopping for a second, Ekel brought the child down to Meiās eye level so that they may get acquainted. Her eyes sparkled with excitement when she saw him. The boyās white fur separated into patches, and he was smaller and meeker than Mei was at birth. His head was even disproportionately small for his ears, but sheād still swear that he was the cutest thing she had ever seen in her five years. Ekel thought to himself āThank the gods your lot arenāt born in litters. Otherwise, youād be the runt of the bunch, huh?ā
Mei reached out to touch her brotherās hand and her already wide eyes grew even larger when he grabbed hold of her finger. Her mouth dangling in awe, she gasped and squealed, her elation reaching fever pitch. Ekel chuckled softly and felt his heart well with pride as he watched his children interact. He couldnāt help but imagine that Mei would make a great older sister, and probably a strong mother to a lucky man in the future. A small pang of jealousy shot through Ekelās gut at the thought of another man being the recipient of Meiās love. All was well and, for just the briefest of moments, thoughts of the Rothaaring had completely slipped Ekelās mind.
The boyās large ear twitched suddenly, and he quickly let go of Meiās finger. His arms thrashed. His cries resumed, with a desperation that seemed unnatural for a newborn. Alas, he was too young to understand what he had heard, but the severity was instinctual. Mei bolted away, her head tilting slightly downward, her golden eyes trained on her brother. Ekel bolted up and resumed his lulling bounce, trying to hush the child for fear the ruckus would wake his resting wife. His newborn son kept stretching his back and tilting sideways towards Noka. Ekel stopped his motion as it was all he could do to not drop the baby. All the commotion caused meant that neither Ekel nor Mei paid any attention to Noka, and thus neither of them could have noticed.
Mere seconds before the child had started fussing, Nokaās breathing had started to slow. She lay still, her head resting on her pillow as she waited for the dizziness to subside. Her chest barely moved as her shallow breaths continued to grow further apart from one another. In her dreamlike state, she could still make out the childās coos and Meiās sweet gasps of delight. She could still smell her scent on the child and could track Ekelās slight peaceful sway. A soft smile spread across her lips for just a moment as she imagined the serene image of her family welcoming her newborn son. A smooth tranquillity started spreading from her chest, and as she tried to open her mouth to call to her family, she faltered. For just a couple of seconds, she lingered in the room before passing on, her heartās final beat longing for her son.
ā
The newbornās cries had finally subsided, although it still seemed stressed. Ekel couldnāt understand what could have set his son off so quickly, but he was relieved to see that Noka managed to sleep through the crying.
āNoka managed to sleep-?ā His own inner voice trailed off, disbelieving the thought as it occurred. He moved towards her and noticed the boy had stopped swaying about and pulled towards his mother.Ā The air didnāt feel right to Ekel. He could feel the shifts almost crawl up his skin. The closer he got to his wife, the deeper his gut fell.
āSheās not moving.ā
His inner voice didnāt trail off then.
āIs she even breathing?ā
āWhy isnāt she moving?ā
āWhat happened?ā
āHow didnāt I see it?ā
The questions almost overlapped in his head. His thoughts moving too quickly for him to follow.
āShippai,ā he murmured, barely a whisper. āShippai! Shippai! Shippai! Shippai!ā His voice had started to grow louder with every mention of the word. He looked down at his newborn son and cursed him with one of the only words he had picked up from Noka, failure. His son had caused this. This wasnāt a miracle; this was the curse the gods had bestowed on him for daring to chase his dream. What else could be expected from the Rothaaringās apparition in the sky on that very night? Shippai was a name that befit his greatest failure and so, the boyās name had been decided.
ā
Although Mei didnāt know what that word meant, she had heard it some months before. She was playing in the front garden when she heard a loud clatter and her mother screaming, āshippai!ā She peeked inside through a small hole in between the wooden doorās planks that would usually serve as her spy-hole to watch over the village. The pot had spilled all over the floor and Noka was holding her hand in pain, almost using that word as a mantra. Mei watched, cautious not to make a sound, as her mother kept muttering to herself and started cleaning up, slamming everything as she moved it around. Suddenly, Noka turned to face the door, and started marching towards it. Mei fell over backwards in surprise and her mother instinctively picked up her pace to check on her.
After checking that Mei hadnāt hurt herself, Noka asked her to come help her clean up the mess inside. Mei was still afraid of her motherās outburst and noticed that her eyes were still a half-squint, and her ears hadnāt yet straightened. This was not the right time to ask, but Noka picked up on her five-year-old daughterās not-so-subtle stares.
āWhat is it?ā She didnāt mean to snap, and she made a mental note to herself to calm down, but she could still feel her hand throbbing in pain.
Mei got flustered and looked around nervously. She had to muster up the courage before she looked up to her mother and asked, āwhatās a shippai?ā
Nokaās eyes widened, and her ears fell flat against her head. āThatās a very heavy word.ā She said, chuckling nervously, āI have to carry it on from your grandfather, but it hurts my voice when I use it. Promise mummy youāll never say it again.ā
āItās⦠heavy?ā Meiās head tilted and her brow furrowed. The word didnāt feel heavy when she said it.
āYes, child.ā Noka crouched to meet Meiās eye level and held her hands tenderly. āAnd the more you use it, the worse it hurts. Mommy made a mistake and used the word, but you cannot repeat it, understand?ā
ā
Nokaās outburst when she lost her temper on that day could not compare in the slightest with the rage Ekel was showing. Her fatherās face was on the verge of turning purple, veins pulsing in both his neck and temple. He was forgetting to breathe in his compulsion to release his fury in a hurl of curses toward his own son. Meiās tail hung low, and she instinctively crouched down into foetal position, tears welling in her eyes. What could her newborn brother do that could cause this? She shut her eyes and folded her ears against her head, reaching up to hold them shut. Maybe she was wrong to think sheād have fun with her little brother.
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taglist: @glbettwrites @keter-kan (text me to join this super exclusive club :D)
Suddenly struck with a need to explain to you how boat pronouns work (I work in the marine industry).
When you're talking about the design of the boat, you say "it".
When the boat is still being built, your say "it".
When the boat is nearing completion, you can say "it" or "she".
When the boat is floating in the water you probably say "she", unless there is still a lot of work to be done (e.g. no engine yet) then you say "it".
When the boat is officially launched and operating, you say "she". If you continue to say "it" at this point you are not incorrect but suspiciously untraditional. You are not playing the game.
If you are referring to a boat you don't really know anything about you may say "it" ("there's a big boat, it's coming this way"). But if you know its name, it's probably "she" ("there's the Waverley, she's on her way to Greenock").
If you are talking about boats in general, you say "it" ("when a boat is hit by a wave it heels over")
If you speak about a boat in complimentary terms, it's "she" ("she's a grand boat"). If you are being disparaging it may be it, but not necessarily ("it's as ugly as sin", "she's a grotty old tub").
If she has a boy's name, she's still she. "Boy James", "King Edward", "Sir David Attenborough"? The pronoun is she.
If it's a dumb barge (no engine), you say it. But if it's a rowing boat (no engine), you say she.
I hope this has cleared things up so that you may not be in danger of misgendering floating objects.