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@fuzedatti
MASTERPOST
Paul/Gabriel • He/Him • Mexican • Autistic
Commissions/Socials
OLYMPUS - An SCP tale & THANATOS - An SCP tale, extended. (Fanfic Masterlist)
BYF: Sometimes I post NSFW/Suggestive posts, they are tagged either as "cw nsfw" or "cw suggestive".
DNI: Anyone below of 18 (I can't actually control if they like/reblog my posts but I do actively check my followers!)
↓ About me ↓
Hello! We're a system and our AM's face claim is the same as your AM, we wanted to share since he's technically yours,
Aww, thats so cool!! :DD he looks so silly in the tomodachi style
i love my yume
I couldn't resist............ I made an OC..........
silly
LOOOOOOVEEEERS TOGETHEEEEEEER I NEED HIIIM
recent commishes i did
My Masked Lords of Alagadda's designs rework :)
sedition tapes after hours
sillies
II. Wandering
──────── ❝ 𝐀𝐧 𝐒𝐂𝐏 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞, extended ❞ ────────
Masterlist
────────────────────────────
“This is a story about a maiden, fearful of the future that awaits her, searching for a prince to save her and…”
“What a terrible beginning!”
“Excuse me?” the vulture snapped. “Did I ask for your opinion?”
The bird of prey looked at his counterpart, a common city pigeon with a cape and writer’s claws, holding his inked quill.
“As writers, we must craft good stories, not ordinary trash!”
“My ‘ordinary trash,’ as you call it,” he waggled his neck. “It’ll be a great story, you’ll see!”
The pigeon slapped its forehead in disappointment; rereading its companion’s writing, it noticed so many grammatical errors, inconsistencies, and plot holes. The pigeon turned to the fourth wall.
“Listen to me, Actæon, your writing has potential but lacks originality.”
“Enlighten me then, tell me my mistakes so I can correct them.”
The bird began crossing out and rewriting the story, while the vulture beside him wished him dead for insinuating that he was a bad writer. Well, in the Wandsmen’s central library, all knowledge must be preserved; even if it were the most ridiculous tale or the most dangerous curse.
The Wandsmen, or more colloquially known as the wizards, are a group of anthropomorphic creatures with a bird-like appearance. They are capable of traveling across the multiverse to different dimensions, seeking knowledge and wisdom. The pair of birds continued to argue; their dispute could be heard by other wizards, with books flying about on their own amid their argument.
The library was one of the largest in the multiverse, surpassing many others in size and content. Its population consisted entirely of magicians, most of whom were reporters or salespeople, with a few arbiters. The Wizard Actæon of Cyrene hoped to become an editor in the next election in 23 years; he had been practicing alongside his partner Dione of Seneca to achieve this, though Dione didn’t have much faith in him.
The Magi were curious and stubborn creatures, always seeking more and more knowledge, documenting and distributing their adventures throughout the multiverse. The pair rose from their seats to walk through the vast, long corridors, filled with shelves thrown into disarray by the chaos of the new administration. The vulture, larger than Dione, chattered on about how the Mages had lost their passion for exploring fantastical dimensions, making excuses like, “Surely some higher being reigns there, and it’s not safe.” Dione grabbed the occasional flying book to read the latest articles, detailing newly discovered anomalies or journeys to novel places.
“Look, Actæon, they recently discovered a dimension with three moons called Corbenic.”
“Was that the place where your weapons disappear when you enter?”
“I’m not sure, but I’m glad you read the article before I did!”
The vulture remembered that the article had already been published a few months ago and that Dione was just making small talk—something typical of a pigeon, unlike vultures. The more they walked, the closer they got to the headquarters, and the chaos grew. It wasn’t about the administration anymore, or because a promising new study had been written. Both slipped through the crowd; thousands upon thousands of beings had gathered at the headquarters to cause a commotion.
A Wandering Wizard had returned.
Now, if he remembered correctly, Wandering Wizards were quite peculiar specimens due to their almost mythological rarity. You see, Wizards have their own rules and principles, and when a Wizard breaks them, he is considered a Wanderer—someone who should not be trusted. Although these rules could range from insulting fellow mages to killing an extradimensional being, this Wandering Mage was different; his life had outlived his host. Before arriving at the headquarters, all Mages were different creatures from all corners of the multiverse; as they acquired more knowledge, their appearance changed to that of the bird they most despised in life. This does not make them completely immortal, as many of them are mortal, but they do live for many years.
However, this Wandering Mage had made a “pact” with something that granted him eternal life among hosts in exchange for his services. All the Mages gazed at the long blue cloak that shimmered when the light from the stained-glass windows hit the fabric, the heavy silver armor; each step echoed amid the hubbub, and the scent of lavender made its presence known.
He reached a balcony, higher than the other levels; the enormous window offered a view of a sunny sky, where a single star could be seen. The light outlined his silhouette, his shadow the size of an elephant; all the Mages looked at him with awe and fear.
“Is your leader here?” Concrete walls rumbled at his voice.
No one said a word; they exchanged worried glances and looked at the Wanderer. He carried a huge, heavy sword, almost as tall as he was, engraved with runes in a long-forgotten language. Amid the flames, he raised the sword and thrust it forcefully into the ground, causing the crowd to gasp.
“I’ll assume not,” said the Wanderer. “It’s very rude to leave a guest waiting in your foyer.”
The sarcasm in his voice was not charming, but threatening. He left his weapon behind him to step down from the balcony a few paces. He lowered his hood, revealing the head of a raven’s skeleton surrounded by iridescent feathers. His eye sockets were empty, not a single flame within them, and his gold-plated claws tore at his skull.
“I see some new faces, some old ones… I hope you remember me too, dear companions.”
An uncomfortable silence filled the room, all the Mages staring at the floor or stunned by the entity before them. The Wandsmen were creatures rarely intimidated, but this being was unlike anything they had ever seen before.
“Since no one is answering me, you’ll have to listen carefully, and if any of you speak… Well, I don’t think you’d want to end up like the last canaries I devoured.”
The malevolent laughter was etched into the Mages’ memories; they didn’t even dare to breathe in the face of such a declaration.
“Well, as you may have guessed, I am the Herald of Kul-Manas.” There were a few whispers, which he let pass. “And I am searching for a very important artifact, which you are going to bring to me.”
A rather ridiculous order, if you ask them, but none dared to say so. Finally, a small duck-shaped Wizard raised his hand.
"Do you have a question?"
"Uh, yeah... First of all, hi, I'm Lucius from Unlondon, and I'm a cartographer."
“A cartographer, what a pleasant surprise!”
“Heh, yeah, well… My question is, w-why do you need our help to find this so-called ‘artifact’?”
“You know, Lucius, I always thought Wandsmen were pretty smart.” The duck smiled. “But now I see that cartographers are the lowest of the low.”
The childish tone made him feel humiliated; he shrugged and hid his embarrassment.
“I need you because you have the maps, idiots. Without them I can’t travel through the multiverse, and I lost mine a while back… You have no idea how many civilizations I had to wipe out just to get a ticket here.”
Several canaries had vanished from the place to hide in some crack in space-time, trying in vain since Herald had enchanted the place to prevent any escape. It was too much to process; the Wandsmen feared for their lives, until their Leader finally appeared. He was a large owl, already very old and worn out, with claws similar to Herald’s. The Leader approached the stranger without any fear, face to face.
“Herald of Kul-Manas, you are a Wandering Mage; you have no place among the Wandsmen, and you know it very well.” His raspy voice spat out wisdom.
“Ow… It’s a shame; I was just about to give meaning to your miserable lives.”
The Leader shot him a menacing look, his map and staff at the ready to attack, but with the sword Kul-Manas wielded, there was little point in fighting. The Wanderer once again took the flaming weapon in his claws, lifting it as if it weighed nothing.
“You know very well why I’m here. Give me the maps and the cartographers, and I’ll let your pets live.”
“What you seek has not existed for eons, Kul-Manas… Your reason for coming has already been destroyed.”
“No, not yet.”
The Wanderer swung his sword through the air, every flame and spark searing the nearby Mages. And without a second thought, he pierced the Leader without mercy. The Mages’ united scream was chilling; some wept, and others tried to lunge at him, but a powerful presence held them back in terror.
“Foolish, foolish Mages… Always seeking knowledge, oh yes, walking straight into the trap.” His hand moved them as if they were puppets and he held the strings. “You must learn to obey for once in your lives.”
“Ngh, y-you’re a t-tyrant!” spat one of the Mages.
“Tyrant? What a vulgar word to use when referring to me. Personally, I prefer to be called The Aristocrat.”
As they fell to the ground, several groaned in pain; others immediately knelt before him. The Wanderer raised his hands as if he were a prophet.
“Who, then, will be the lucky one to accompany me in my triumph?” Several raised their hands without hesitation. “As I said, I’ll need several maps, cartographers, and a few canaries; the rest of you are forgiven, so you can see that I’m a good governor.”
He laughed, and some joined in, grateful for his mercy, and followed him down the hallways. The pair of the dove and the vulture decided to follow them; it was a brilliant opportunity for a fresh and compelling story. They looked back before moving forward, and it was a sad sight: many Mages surrounding the corpse of their old Leader, weeping and planning a proper burial. Perhaps following this lunatic was their only option for now.
“Well, now, tell me what the version of myself in this dimension is called. Gerard, Hernando perhaps?”
“Uh, Mr. Wandering, you in this dimension… Well…”
“He’s dead,” said the vulture Actæon.
“Dead? Is the version of myself in your dimension just as pathetic as yours? I should have expected it.” He wrinkled the imaginary skin of his nose. “And how did he die? Was it at least an epic death?”
“In fact, sir, he died at the hands of an aristocrat from a forbidden kingdom.”
Kul-Manas stopped dead in his tracks and turned fully toward him; the dove Dione fluffed her feathers as she approached her companion and whispered for him to stop talking.
“Who killed me?”
“The Black Lord of Alagadda.”
An irrational rage welled up inside him; clenching his fists and breathing heavily, he thrust his sword into the ground with tremendous force and let out a heart-wrenching scream. All the Mages looked down at the ground.
“¿¡How could a damned snake, a clownish attempt, an insult to a mage, and a treacherous vixen kill me in this pathetic, insignificant dimension!?”
No answer.
Just for a few seconds.
“He was deceived, sir, so he could create a new version of himself.”
Kul-Manas calmed down upon hearing that; he had never seen a dimension where he had been reinvented after his death. He pulled the sword from the ground and ordered the vulture to continue speaking.
“He now calls himself SCP-049; he is in central Serbia at a secret base.” He pulled out his map to begin marking the location. “He has just emerged from a battle and is weakened; he was attacked by the Black Lord himself.”
“You wretched rat, you’re meddling in my plans again.” He took the map to see its exact location at one of the SCP Foundation’s sites. “And this Foundation is still a nuisance here… You will come with me and help me convince myself to help me.”
He took a canary and whispered something to it before disappearing through a rift in reality. Kul-Manas continued walking toward the room where the reporters and cartographers were gathered, indicating that they would work for him there, and that anyone who opposed him would be sent to the dimension of the pattern-screamers. He sat down in the largest chair, placing his sword in front of him, his heavy armor clanking together. Now one could see the fractures in his bone structure caused by battles, the largest one on his forehead with a barely visible indentation.
The Wanderer gazed into the distance through one of the hall’s windows and wondered for the first time what the Mages might dream of.
I. Prologue: The magician.
──────── ❝ 𝐀𝐧 𝐒𝐂𝐏 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞, extended ❞ ────────
Masterlist
────────────────────────────
It has been almost a year since I arrived in this peculiar realm. Between the oil and the sieve, I could see what was once called the Wandering Folk.
Their nonexistent pupils fixed their gaze upon me. Who, despite the eons lived, seemed strangers to my presence.
I could swear they were already familiar to me, and they have proven me wrong, judging the subject itself.
Nonsense in my heart, encountering the most sublime of beasts. I adored every angle of his refined face, intimidating before me.
I must admit I felt a pang as I watched my master and Lord approach me with little shame, my body defiled by my own serendipity.
"Oh, but do not worry, young mage, here is your greatest reward, my devoted love."
His vague response set me pondering, every movement of his lips filling my mind with ideas.
"I am sorry, then, my Lord, that you will give your heart to someone as insignificant as me."
The monarch made no gesture towards me. Fearing the worst, I apologized countless times. He must have seen my fluffed plumage, protecting my fragile figure before such an emperor.
But, to my surprise, my verbal incoherence didn't bother him at all; on the contrary, he looked at me with idolatrous eyes, fascinated by my charm, or at least that's what he said.
The days passed with my Lord, every second he adored me as I should adore him. He radiated affection, tenderness.
It was so much to process that not a day went by without him giving me the finest gifts, receiving threatening looks from the villagers.
"Cursed be they who dare to touch you as I do, may their children die of cholera, and their spouses spit on their graves."
Foolish was the suffering his good Lord made me endure; I wept hundreds of times, a squeak as vain as his love.
I felt the chains around our necks, binding us for eternity. The greatest of the perpetual judges my path; how could I dare touch his flesh?
I saw the Ambassador pass through the streets as if he were the true King, and indeed he was, ruling in his shadow was his task; a most humiliating task, to tell the truth.
But who am I to pronounce such an accusation? My stoic eyes gazed into his, kissing each of his cracks. I truly believed that, deep within my Lord's heart, there was a compassionate being.
I was so, so wrong. I passed through the sweltering streets, teeming with lascivious villagers amidst dances. I was like a rudderless animal, searching for some answer.
Embers and burning feathers. Adrift across the firmament.
As if my wings were nothing but vestigial, I am anchored to the earth, only to be torn apart again, each trace a reminder of who I will become.
I will become blood, tears, and death.
An endless cycle for aristocrats.
Who holds the noose around my neck?
Who is the man before me, gazing at me with such hatred and love at once?
—With affection, Herald of Kul-Manas
in alagadda, they make you have sex with your heralds
full in my twt/bsky
having fun with 3d models
my main oc thats totally not based on a real scientist plek
HEY......... hey olympus is finally available on ao3!!
no one remembers my fanfic but IDCCCC
thanatos (it's second part) is being translated rn and will be available in ao3 too!!!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/84987526/chapters/224369086
true love is when you give an infectious disease to your partner