Jul 23, 2025
who up providencing they providence
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who up providencing they providence
That one trend goin on tiktok
Blobidence belongs to @cursedjan, and purity idea goes to @phasisart!!!
days ninteen thru twenty one :)
the gilded wurms are one of my favorites of this whole set. i love them thangs!! oh yes and mithrix and providence are also always a blast to draw. i love them so much.
Providence
felt like this was nice enough to go here so it's going here
a young providence and mithrix discuss the creation of the sunken grove
how does the risk of rain fandom here feel about little drabbles. bc i wrote one teehee!! 920 words total. very providence focused and takes lots of insp from the lore w my own personal hcs thrown in here and there.
His brother is on the moon, and he has just shifted the alignment of the teleporter to prevent his return. His hands are shaking, his chest is heaving. It had to be done – he’s known for a while, after all, that he had to do something to stop his brother…
So why is he now slumping against a nearby stone? Why is he curling in on himself, and putting his face in his hands? Why is he weeping as though this was not his own doing?
. . .
It is many years later – though the exact number, he’s lost count of. All he really knows is that it’s been a very long time since he last saw his brother. And every day, he thinks about what he’s done to him. He wonders: What does he think of me now? Does he hate me? … Probably. I would hate me, too.
Often, he paces the ornate structures – buildings of his own creation – in the Helminth Hatchery. His two gilded wurms watch as he does, curious, but never interfering. They’re well behaved, and good company – but they aren’t his brother. They cannot talk to him, or share ideas with him. They are simply animals, even if they have some intelligence. But they so know, at the very least, that their master is hurting deep down inside. Even if there is nothing they can really do about it.
They watch him as he takes to creating a weapon. A gift for his brother. An apology. Ornate, carefully crafted. Made with Mithrix’s preferences in mind. A mace of obsidian, with many perfectly shaped spikes upon the head. The handle itself is silver, and wrapped with the dried, leathery skins of kifruit – his brother’s favorite. It takes many hours to make it, but he has many hours to spare.
When it is complete, it is sent to the moon, like the many other gifts he has offered to his brother. He’ll never see his reaction to it. But he can feel it, somehow. Anger, hatred, resentment. Hurt, confusion, loneliness.
He is caught, on occasion, staring longingly at the moon.
. . .
Occasionally, he’ll sleep, which he does not need to do, but he simply likes to. The wurms keep watch, loyal guards making sure no harm comes to their master while he rests.
When he was young, he would have the occasional nightmare. His brother would always be there, ready to calm him down when he inevitably woke once more in a panicked state. It always helped ease him right back to sleep.
Now, however, he is alone. And when he has nightmares, he wakes panicked and shaking, with no one to help him calm himself. To make matters worse, the one person who would be able to is the subject of many of his nightmares now.
He dreams of his brother a lot. He dreams of the betrayal, and of his anger. He sees in vivid detail what might happen if his brother were to ever somehow escape his prison on the moon. He will come for him. And he will kill him.
. . .
He’s grown paranoid. Everything that lives on the planet can see it. He paces anxiously near daily. He keeps close watch over everything. Walls are built. No one is allowed to leave the planet, and rarely does anyone question why. However, for the most part, everything remains peaceful. The planet is beautiful, and well tended to. Everyone’s needs are met. No one knows why their benevolent protector has become so tense, as of late.
It all comes to a head when a ship shows up in the night sky, inching ever closer to the moon. At first, he waits, watching it closely. Their path does not change. A decision is quickly made – they must be stopped.
A portal brings him aboard the ship. He enters in the cargo hold, alongside many residents of the planet – all willingly following him. All willing to defend their home.
He slaughters anyone he sees. There is a trail of blood in his wake, and his crystalline sword is stained crimson. By the time he makes it to the bridge, there is nobody left. Those who managed to escape his wrath via escape pods instead find themselves dying on the surface of the planet…
Mostly, at least.
He is unaware of it, but he has sealed his own fate – as well as the fate of his brother, and the fate of the planet. For there is a survivor who finds his way back to the ship. A survivor who fights with a power near equal to his own.
At first, he thinks it a simple challenge. He’s excited by it. The idea of fighting something that could put up a decent fight against him instead of instantly folding intrigued. He’s never had that before.
But his wurms are slaughtered. And he follows not long after.
Before his body disappears, he sits on his knees, bloodied, slumped against his sword to keep himself as upright as he can. He’s staring at his killer – a mere human. With a power the likes of which he never thought he’d see. There’s a hint of something in his gaze that makes it seem like he’s a bit impressed, truthfully. But mostly, there is anger, hurt, and fear.
His last words before he’s gone for good are simple. He calls this human a monster, and leaves it at that. And all that is left of him is his crumpled red cloak, and his massive sword.