#rogue writes

[the-sunflowerwitch]

I CAN’T STOP THINKING ABOUT BUIRNINGCHEESE FANKIDS!!!!! AND THE CAPSAICIN COOKIE THEORY!!!!!!! RAAAAAAH

Rambles below, I want to get some stuff written down so I can start on some designs. Feedback is welcome!!

BurningCheese kids

So I have a few solid ideas for them that I am going to use as a base, the main thing is going to be names. I want them to basically be a reference to both of their flavours (cheese and spices) and/or their cultural origins (Egypt/India).

Current name ideas I have are: Paneer Cheese, Tumeric, Black Cumin, Kalari Cheese, Cardamom. Any more ideas would be greatly appreciated!

Eldest Child

• A girl, takes after Burning Spice the most. She’s physically very strong, and is a close quarters fighter. In adulthood, though she is immortal like her parents.

• As the first born of two powerful, immortal beings, both with their own vast, ancient kingdoms, there is a weight of responsibility on her shoulders. Whilst neither Golden Cheese or Burning Spice have any intention of relinquishing their positions as ruler, she is still the heir of the two kingdoms. Because of this, she works hard to try and be worthy of that position, even if it isn’t necessarily needed. This, however, causes her quite some stress and anxiety, something of which she will keep to herself (until it probably inevitably explodes)

• To most people, she acts serious and hard edged, kinda like Wildberry Cookie if I had to give a comparison. She is in control of her emotions at all times and does not let them impede her in combat. She doesn’t speak much, so a lot of what she says is to the point, and you get the vibe she does not like to repeat herself.

• To her family and close friends though, she is much more open and easy-going, much more prone to joking around, though until her anxiety is addressed she catches herself before she has too much fun.

• On her fighting style, whist she will have trained the most with her dad, she is very tactical in the way she fights. She is a close quarters fighter, but doesn’t just use brute strength and wild, uncoordinated attacks to get through fights. She is very skilled and will analyse opponents to find the best way to use her strength against them to win, something she has learned from training under Golden Cheese. She also does not underestimate who she fights, as anyone who is a supposed “weaklings” can catch you off guard.

• In contrast to her father and more in line with her mother, she is a big fan of the materialistic. She cares a lot about jewellery, clothes and her appearance (in most cases, if she’s fighting she worries about these things after the fight). It is something she and Golden Cheese share a bond over.

• Very close with her younger brother, they share a special bond that I will talk more on after I talk about him.

• I am leaning heavily towards her being named after either Paneer Cheese or Tumeric. I have this mental image of her having long and wild hair, but instead of a void black like her dads, it’s blonde.

Middle Child

• A boy, takes after Golden Cheese the most (defo a mama’s boy). Has a pair of wings like his mother, which he uses to keep himself out of reach in combat. In immortal adulthood, though still treated as the baby brother sometimes.

• In contrast to his older sister, he is much more boisterous and bright. He’s animated and chatty, sometimes to the point of annoyance.

• He is very free-spirited, which pairs well with his wings. He will fly every chance get gets, enjoying being in the air immensely.

• He is, however, much more emotional and prone to getting worked up. Whether it is excitement, anger, sadness or whatever else, it is not uncommon for it to be cranked up to 11. Because of his father, when his emotions flare, things get very fire-y.

• This can have its upsides as well as its downsides. If he’s angry, it makes him a very deadly in combat as he funnels it into his attacks. The downside though is that this can make him prone to tunnel visioning whoever he is fighting.

• Fights at range and at close quarters. Uses a bow for ranged, but also has clawed gauntlets that he will use to dive bomb and strike. In contrast to his yappy, bubbly personality, he is bloodthirsty in a fight.

• As mentioned, he and his older sister are very close. You’d think with their personalities, they would clash, but they’re two peas in a pod and are seen with each other a lot. The younger brother speaks for the both of them a lot of the time, and is usually yapping her ear off, but she never looks annoyed and is always paying attention to what he is talking about, even it if doesn’t look like it.

• With this in mind, they make a very effective duo in combat. The sister will get into melee and lead a brutal close quarters attack whilst the brother rains down attacks from the air, then when the sister creates an opening, the brother swoops down and strikes with his claws. If you go up against the two of them, you are in for a bad time.

• Current contender for a name is Black Cumin, because I want him to have short black curly hair, but I’m not sure!

Youngest Child

• Not got much on this one yet, other than it will be a daughter and a child. I just wanted to have a child growing up when Burning Spice is (mostly) reformed hehe. Spoiled absolutely rotten.

Burning Spice kids

Capsaicin Cookie

• OKAY SO DISCLAIMER: I have not fully read his school story arc yet, so some stuff may be OOC/against canon BUT!!!!!! I don’t care :) (I will adjust before making art)

• Capsaicin was born before Burning Spice’s fall, and was his only child before his children with Golden Cheese.

• Because of Burning Spice being his father, he is basically a demi-god and doesn’t actually age past adulthood. When he locked himself in chains, he went into stasis/hibernation for a long time, until he got sick of it and broke out.

• His mother was part of one of the many civilisations that rose and fell. In this society, the cookie flavours centered around stones and gems.

• I havent fully ironed out how his mother and Burbing Spice met, but I imagine her to be similar to Golden Cheese in temperament. Strong willed, whitty, confident. Her eventual death was one of the main factors that eventually led to Burning Spice’s fall.

• When Burbing Spice fell, Capsaicin was horrified and fought his father, trying to defend the innocent. However, much to Burning Spice’to joy, their fight led to a large amount of collateral damage due to the destructive nature of their powers. Distraught by this, Capsaicin instead chose to ran, not wanting to hurt more innocents in the crossfire.

• Him being unable to stop his father and causing so much destruction himself, this led to a lot of guilt and fear over to his power, to the point of locking himself away and hibernating, in hopes that someone would be able to defeat his father whilst he kept himself in check. It wasn’t until that same volcano erupted millenia later that he awoke, choosing to break his chains and try to reintroduce himself to the world.

• Capsaicin only reconnects with his father after the 2nd Dark Flour war, once the Beasts have been sent down the path of reformation. Burning Spice is both elated and terrified to see him, as he was already wracked with guilt having thought he may have killed his only son. Even though he lived, he still hurt him, his only son and his last connection to his long departed love. It’s one of the many hurdles Burning Spice faces in his redemption, but it does have a happy ending (you can rip a happy ending from my COLD DEAD HANDS)

• Capsaicin LOOOOVES his half siblings. Tries to be around as much as he’s able as they grow up, so he does have a close bond with them

Nutmeg Tiger Cookie

• The art of people making Capsaicin Cookie and Nutmeg Tiger Cookie siblings is simply too cute not to include in my headcanon/AU mess

• The term “kid” is used loosely here. She is not blood related to Burning Spice, she is an orphan abandoned by her parents and shunned by her community. She was rescued and adopted by Burbing Spice when he visited her village, and saw how she was being mistreated

• This happened after the death of Capsaicin’s mother, so BS was already on the path towards his eventual corruption. As such, he acted less like a parent and more like a mentor, training her to be strong and to channel her anger into her fighting

• I think she would act very (for a lack of a better word) tsundere about it, but after a lifetime of hostility, the kindness from Capsaicin Cookie would both put her on guard at first, but would be something she treasures forever.

• Because the timeline of when things occurred is up in the air, I think Burning Spice would grant het immortality, either before his fall so he avoids what happened with his late partner, or after once she proves herself as his general. She ran the Wild Spice tribes with an iron fist in Burning Spice’s long absence, becoming an incredibly strong warrior

• Because of this though, her relationship with Burning Spice is a weird one. She always strives to gain his approval, and after his fall he expected perfection from her whilst at times barely acknowledging her. Things begin to change and improve once BS is on the path of redemption, but it is a very awkward transition, and Nutmeg Tiger has her own mountain of trauma that needs to be addressed.

I will be drawing stuff eventually I prommyyyyy 🥺👉👈

[roguerogerss]

The President; ‘Something Sweet.’

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader

W/C: 2.1k

Warnings: SMUT!!

(HEY! this is the second part to The President, part 3 will be out soon so plssss stay tuned, hope u luv it, luv you, bye) (requests r open! send me stuff here)

-

“Where did you go?"

Clemensia snatched your arm and stopped you in your place. You'd been trying to ignore all of the girls, weaving your way in and out of the crowd, accepting the odd congratulations or hug as you went, you thought you might find Tigris and stick by her until at least dinner time. You wanted nothing more than to be at home.

"Oh." You started but stopped short. If you even stuttered you knew she'd know, your legs were shaking and, if she looked at you closely, she'd be able to see that your hair wasn't nearly as smooth as it was an hour ago, and your lipstick had smudged over your chin and you'd spent longer than you should've trying to wipe it off. "Just had a few photos to be taken, Coryo wanted them out of the way."

Clemensia turned you to face her, gripping your forearms as she eyed you suspiciously. You held your breath a moment, she wasn't the type to keep her mouth shut. "Of course. Photos."

She was smirking at you, and you nearly hung your head in shame out of pure instinct. You teetered backwards slightly in your heels, and Clemensia barely stifled a laugh. "Did these photos involve you being bent over something?"

"Clemmie!" You burst out, hands clamping over your mouth, cheeks burning red. And then you couldn't help but laugh. "Don't say anything, please."

"I won't!" She laughed and took hold of your hand, starting to lead you back towards the rest of your school friends. “I didn’t say anything when you’d disappear for every free hour we had in school, did I?”

“Clemensia!”

Okay! I won’t say anything. Promise. It's your day, and Coryo's President now. I can’t say anything."

You laughed as you approached the other girls, Clemmie was your friend, as much as you hated to admit it, and you did actually like spending time with her, after you got over the initial idea of it. The other girls, however, were a different story.

"Where did you guys go?" Lysistrata whined when you rejoined the circle. She wasn’t the worst of the bunch, but, god, could she moan about anything. "Felix had an interview and they basically said that he actually would've won, had Doctor Gaul's vote not counted-"

"Well, her vote did count." Clemensia defended and sent you a small smile. "Why dwell on it, Lyssie?"

"Because it's unfair." Livia practically snarled, lip curled upwards like a growling dog. "Coriolanus will be president until he either steps down, or dies off. And we all know he won't step down, so none of us will even have a chance at it."

"You wouldn't have a chance at anything anyway, Livia. Festus is a slob." You snapped. You'd remembered why you so hated going to school, and then University with these girls. Livia especially always seemed to bring out the worst in you. You heard Clemensia sigh, and Lysistrata sucked in a breath to be held.

Livia looked as though she was about to lunge for you. "He is not a slob!" She threw her hands in the air and started to say something else, when Clemensia butted in, to avoid a public argument between two powerful men's wives.

"Ladies!" She held her arms out between the two of you in a calming manner, and you almost scoffed and walked away from them, but you knew you had to be here. For Coryo, you thought. "Let's just all be friends, okay? You managed it for seventeen years before today, you can certainly last another two hours."

"Oh, look!" Lysistrata pointed excitedly at the grand hall, drawing the attention of the conversation to something else entirely. "I think we've to go for dinner, now. Aren't you all excited? It'll be lovely."

You were definitely excited. The University provided three square meals a day, if you stayed long enough - you always did - but, since you'd graduated, it had been back to Tigris' cabbage soup and the occasional luxury like a loaf of bread or some beef mince, if Coriolanus helped Doctor Gaul with something she believed warranted an extra payout. The food was guaranteed to be something special, and, even better, you could leave your school friends behind for at least an hour and sit by Coryo instead.

An avox appeared by your small group, and gestured for you all to follow them, leading the gathering of wives to the dinner hall first. Clemensia, Livia, and Lysistrata were positioned at a table together, each one chair apart from the other, and you almost laughed out loud when Livia's scowl deepened further and Clemmie sighed disappointedly at her space between the other two.

After seating the three other women, the avox gestured for you to follow them even further, to a long, rectangular table overlooking a sea of smaller round ones. The hall really was magnificent, all marble and hardwood, a string quartet playing in the far corner, and Coriolanus' Grandma'am's roses decorating each table, in small glass vases. You smiled at the touch, assuming it was Tigris' doing, Coryo would love it.

"Thank you." You nodded to the avox as they tapped a chair for you to sit in. The table was laid with a white tablecloth and lace runner, and six plates, with dainty little place cards placed neatly atop them. The ones on either side of you read Tigris Snow and President Coriolanus Snow. You assumed the one next to Coryo would've been for the Grandma'am and the other two chairs for other government officials.

The room started to fill up with people, celebrities, guests, reporters, game makers. You tried to make out anyone familiar in the sea of people, but faces blurred into one another, distant chatter became almost deafening, and you found that, not only could you not decipher one person from another, but you'd given yourself a headache trying to do so.

The chair beside you pulled back, startling you from your squint-eyed staring, and then Tigris appeared, beaming and touching a hand to your shoulder. "He did it!" She cried and you embraced, squealing as you did so.

“I know.” You mused. “Did you do the roses?”

Tigris nodded, a satisfied smile crossing her face. “Yes, do you like them? I thought it’d be nice, something familiar.”

“They’re beautiful, he’ll love them.” You plucked one of the stems from the vase in front of you, inspecting the perfect flower, so familiar. You’d always loved the Grandma’am’s roses, almost as much as Coryo did.

You were only able to talk for a moment, Tigris complimenting the way you'd done his hair, you gushing over his suit. You loved Tigris, really. But the national anthem began playing, and then there were cameras on you both and you tried to remember to sit up straight and keep your chin down.

The entire room erupted into cheers and claps and cries as Coriolanus entered, looking dazzling as ever. You even noticed Livia giving a hand, which sent a sense of satisfaction through you. "There he is! Our brand new President, it's Coriolanus Snow!" Lucky Flickerman had appeared out of nowhere again, and you could just hear him over the sound of the crowd. "And he's making his way over to his gorgeous first lady! I heard they've only been married three days."

You stifled a laugh at Lucky's overly dramatic performance, and then you felt almost self conscious, seeing all of the people looking towards you, the cameras pointed in your direction. Tigris touched a gentle hand to your arm to soothe you, and you just about managed a grin as Coryo approached.

He sat down next to you and you found his hand placed on the small of your back, thumb rubbing soothing circles just beside your spine. You let out a sigh of relief and smiled until the cameras turned away and the starting course of the meal served. "That was good, darling." Coryo spoke quietly. "Are you okay? You seem nervous."

"I am nervous." You turned toward him and placed a hand on his knee. "I'll get over it, though. First day jitters."

"Of course you will." And then he leaned down to whisper in your ear, hand creeping up your thigh under the cover of the tablecloth. "What do you think I could do to calm you down, hm?"

"Coryo." You hid a small smile and wrapped your fingers around his wrist. "People are watching."

"All the more fun." You turned to face him, noticing the half-concealed grin playing on his lips. Your eyes flickered out towards the crowd and cameras, guests were all chattering and eating, but the cameras stayed put, and Lucky continued his constant commentary of you. You imagined him, broadcasting to the entirety of Panem, that the brand new President was fingering his wife at the dinner table.

Coryo's hand wandered up even further, underneath your skirt, into your underwear. You sucked in a breath and made a sort of uncomfortable grunt, biting back a whine as two familiar fingers pressed into you. You gripped onto the tablecloth and Tigris turned to you, concern in her eyes. "Are you okay?" She asked and you nodded, too enthusiastically.

"I'm okay." You answered, but you knew your face wasn't communicating what you said, and Tigris' hand was pressed to your forehead before you could tell her again.

"You're hot, have you drank enough water today? And you're flushed, too-" Tigris was in the middle of pouring some water into the glass in front of you when Coryo cut in.

"She's okay, Tigris." He smiled at his cousin. "Wasn't feeling too well last night, were you, love?"

You shook your head, trying to act convincing while Coriolanus' fingers continued their assault inside of you. "Oh, honey! Well, get some rest tonight, okay?"

And then Tigris had turned back to her conversation with the Grandma'am, and you made a mental note to continue the narrative that you were sick, at least in front of Tigris. And then you noticed that Lucky was staring right at the two of you, massive grin on his face, as always, and the camera beside him was fixated on your table.

"Coryo, the cameras!" You hissed, but he silenced you, curling his fingers against your sensitive spot. You made another strangled sound, but Tigris didn't turn around this time, too invested in conversation with the Grandma'am.

"Shh," Coryo comforted you, nuzzling his forehead against your cheek in a way that could've been mistaken for a loving gesture for the cameras. "Let them see, honey. Just be quiet for me. My good girl."

He curled his fingers faster inside of you, so that you had to clamp your hand on your thigh to stop your legs from shaking aggressively, every now and again he'd lean down and say something like, "You're doing so well." or "So good for me." and your head would spin.

"Coryo," You whispered, a breathy moan falling from your lips, almost loud enough for everyone at the table to hear. "I'm getting close, you know how loud I get."

Dessert was being served, now, and you were almost glad that the avoxes didn't have tongues, because you were certain that the one placing your lemon tart in front of you had made a strange face whilst doing so.

Coryo's fingers brushed your sensitive spot once again, and you felt his hand on your back as it arched off of the chair, dimming the appearance of your arousal to the public. "I know. Not going to let you finish, not yet."

He pressed a short kiss to your temple and then pulled his fingers out of you, at which you huffed and pouted, he felt his cock throb, seeing you looking so bratty.

"Coryo!" You whined, bottom lip still jutting out. "That's not fair."

"Isn't it?" He asked, smirk playing on his face. He made you watch as he looked you straight in the eye, lifted his fingers to his lips - still glistening with your slick - and sucked them clean. "Mmh, so sweet, my girl. Now, I want you to go home, familiarise yourself with the mansion - you'll love it, by the way - and wait for me to get there. No touching yourself, you know the punishment for that."

A small smile grew on your face as you nodded. Coryo kissed your face, picked up your dessert fork and handed it to you, gesturing to the food in front of you. As you took your first bite, he slid his own across to the Senator sat next to him. The larger man looked at him with confusion in his eyes.

"You can take mine, already had something sweet."

[librarymage]

Six Sentence Sunday (ish)

tagged by @malkaleh (was that a week ago? maybe. but it's Sunday again so we're good.)

(umbrella tagging anyone who feels like doing this because I've lost track of how many mutuals have already posted snippets today)

Here's some of the rough first draft of the next In the Blood fic:

“Let go of her,” Ezra said, his voice a terrified rasp as he stared Maul down. “Drop your weapon,” was Maul’s only response. Ezra couldn’t move. Terror froze him in place as the images that haunted his dreams of Sabine lying dead at Maul’s feet flashed through his head. “Now, Ezra.” The harsh snap in Maul’s voice spurred Ezra into action. His hand jumped to his lightsaber, trembling fingers closing around it. As he drew his weapon, he saw Maul’s hand tense, his finger moving a hair’s breadth closer to the trigger. Any thoughts Ezra might have had about attacking vanished in an instant. He held Maul’s gaze as he dropped his saber to the forest floor. “There.” Ezra was mortified to realize that his voice was shaking as he said it. Not that it mattered. Maul knew exactly how afraid Ezra was of him. “Now let her go.”

[the-rogue-mockingjay]

The Light rages and seethes, and O’ravi’s control of it cracks. Just a little.

It yearns to be free. Her body is too small a vessel for its radiance. It sears every part of her and shoves with all its might against the walls of her hardening skin, an ocean held back by the frailest mortal dam.

She will not yield – not yet – but she is powerless to stop the Light’s advance. Across her body, her skin splits, and Light bleeds into her clothes. It spills from her mouth, her nose, even her ears. She heaves, hacking up still more, and something in her chest snaps and splinters, sparking across her ribcage.

There is nothing she can do but grit her teeth and wait for it to recede. And when at last it does, through the fading haze, she becomes dimly aware of a voice and a figure kneeling in front of her. A hand and handkerchief trying to clean up her bloodstained face to absolutely no avail. She would laugh at the absurdity, but she chokes instead and triggers the longest and most eye-watering coughing fit.

When it’s over, Rian reaches out to hold her head in his hands. “Are you alright?” he asks. His voice is small and wavers like a child’s. It still sounds wrong, to hear him so afraid. He's never this afraid—at least not openly.

What a stupid fucking question, she wants to say, but she doesn’t. She waits until she’s sure she won’t choke, then raises her head.

Rian’s eyes are wide, and his touch, while gentle, is uncertain. Unsteady.

“We’re running out of time,” O’ravi says.

“How long?”

“Bells, not days.” She could say more, but for his sake, she won't.

He turns away, eyes squeezed shut, and she does him the kindness of looking elsewhere while he struggles to keep his composure.

“Then we’d best get going,” he says quietly, resigned. “The others must be wondering where we are.” He gets up and gathers the weapons lying uselessly in the sand – his sword and shield, and Shattered Heart – and all is silent save for his steps. She watches with a blank stare.

If she does not die today, she will die tomorrow, like as not. And he has to know this – he is a healer, and he knows full well when someone is too far gone, as she is – but to hear it out loud would break something in him. So she holds her tongue.

Wordlessly, he returns Shattered Heart to its place upon her back, and helps her stand. Keeps her steady while the world seems to sway around her. It’s wretched, this state she’s in—in her mind she strings together apology after apology. But there’s no point in speaking them. There’s nothing left to say or discuss that they haven’t already talked about a dozen times already, and his answer to all of it remains the same, regardless.

“My place is at your side. No matter what.”

It’s only fitting, isn’t it? They began this journey as adventurers and as Scions together, and he will be with her at her journey’s end. For better or worse. But how will he carry on when she is gone? How is he meant to do alone what they have always done together? Unless—

“Do you need a moment?”

“I’m fine,” she replies automatically.

It’s bullshit, and he knows it, but he doesn’t pry. He just brushes the hair out of her eyes. “Ready when you are.”

She nods and pulls away from him enough that she’s standing without his help to balance her, but she doesn’t let go of his hand. He doesn’t let go, either.

[rogue-of-broken-time]

Whispers Of An Echo

—

… hello?

"Hm?… oh, no no no no, not this again…"

… hello, are you there?

"W-wait, no, this is… different…"

…

"… hello?"

You can… you can hear me?

"… yeah, yeah! I hear you! Who are you?"

I'm… my name is Echo! Who are you?

"I-I'm Chase!… wait, where are you? H-how can I hear you?"

That's… oh, um, well, hard to explain–

"How… wait– can you get me out of here?"

… no…

"Then why are you talking to me?…"

…

"… are you trapped here, too?"

… I am, but I might as well give up hope of ever leaving this place…

"… no no no, no, don't say that. No. If both of us work together? We can get out of here!"

… they're too strong. They'll keep us both locked up…

"Wh-what do you mean? How… how do you know that?"

It's him. They're tracking HIM. You've seen him, right?…

"You've seen him, too?… what does he want?"

I… I think he wants YOU, Chase. His energy– it follows you. Something about you is… special. Even I can feel it.

"Wait… what– I don't understand. What do you mean, I'm 'special'?"

… I think I've said too much. I should go–

"No… no no no no, no, please, don't go! Please, I need to know!–"

…

"Echo? Are you there?…"

…

"… oh, come on, please don't leave me alone here…"

—

(hi hello this is my take on Chase's conversation with Echo. there may be more writings like this to come. for now though, enjoy!)

[jse-dnd-au]

The JSE D&D AU Pantheon

—

The Ever-Gazing One

Other names: The Ever-Gaze, The World's Visage

At the dawn of the ages over this realm, there was only The Ever-Gazing One. It was he who began the forward march of time, the outward flow of space, and the rise of life from the ground. The first races of this realm were naturally peace-loving– even those races with the innate forces of chaos and evil in their blood had their place, for everybody was seen as having value to the Ever-Gaze.

Over time, some began to question the Ever-Gazing One. They wondered how their creator could possibly understand the struggles of mortality from his pedestal in the beyond.

In response, the Ever-Gaze created five more deities to rule alongside himself– the Champion, the Magnificent, the Lifebringer, the Sharpshooter, and the Wayfarer– and imbued each one with the power of being able to walk among the mortals so that they, too, could understand their strife and be divine messengers.

However, this did not please everybody. Some of the folk who had originally questioned the Ever-Gazing One were not satisfied, and thus placed their faith elsewhere. Their collective will created That Which Observes, an opposite entity to the Ever-Gaze who promised them power in thanks for bringing it to life…

Cleric Divine Domains: Life, Light, Order Paladin Oaths that would suit this deity: Oath of Devotion, Oath of Redemption, Oath of the Watchers Warlock pacts that would suit this deity: The Celestial

—

That Which Observes

Other names: The Corrupting Blade, The Master of Puppets

Those who had turned from the Ever-Gazing One placed their faith in a new deity of their own creation, which they called That Which Observes. They pictured this entity as an opposite to the Ever-Gaze; where the first had light, the other darkness– and where the first had weakness, the other, immense power. Followers of That Which Observes claim they have prophetic dreams that would seem like nightmares to common folk– but instead of fear, they embrace their own strength and the strength of their new god.

Interpretations of That Which Observes vary as widely as the power it is said to wield. As eras have passed, the tale of its creation has been morphed to fit various definitions; over time, this anti-deity has gone from being a fiend to a ghost to a mere feeling and back again. But one thing remains consistent in all the tales: That Which Observes is a master of the shortblade, it being a weapon of mass corruption able to strike down even the gods themselves…

Cleric Divine Domains: Death, Trickery Paladin Oaths that would suit this deity: Oath of Conquest, Oath of Vengeance Warlock Pacts that would suit this deity: The Fiend, The Great Old One, The Hexblade, The Undead

—

The Champion

Other names: The Hero, The Mighty Fist of Justice

The Champion was the eldest of the five deities that the Ever-Gazing One manifested for his people. He was known to lean towards methods of chaos, but also goodness and light; he wouldn't stand for tyranny of any kind, and ventures created in his name were often emboldened by his blessing, so long as they met with his approval.

Soldiers would regularly invoke the Champion's name during times of war against dark forces, such as those who followed That Which Observes. In tales of ages past, he was known as the Ever-Gaze's right hand, and the one who would strike down the forces of darkness and injustice…

Cleric Divine Domains: Forge, Light, Tempest, War Paladin Oaths that would suit this deity: Oath of Glory, Oath of the Watchers Warlock Pacts that would suit this deity: None

—

The Magnificent

Other names: The Arcane Artist, The Phoenix

The second eldest of the Ever-Gaze's deity-creations, the Magnificent has long been known to be a patron of magic as well as the arts. In every interaction with the other gods, he left his mark with a certain flourish and grace, and in many depictions, he is shown as having a cape made of the entire night sky and dancing around all of existence in a single day. Because of this, the christening of many theatres, museums, and places of magical study begins with a ceremony in the name of the Magnificent.

Despite being overally benevolent, not all folk followed the Magnificent, or believed he had good intentions. These people claimed that those who followed this deity were often led astray into darkness, never to return– and this belief was not entirely unfounded. Many who invoked the Magnificent did so in the name of curiosity for the arcane, which often drew people to the shadows, and often into the sight of That Which Observes...

Cleric Divine Domains: Arcana, Twilight Paladin Oaths that would suit this deity: Oath of the Ancients Warlock Pacts that would suit this deity: The Archfey

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The Lifebringer

Other names: The Giving Hand, The Judge

As neither the eldest nor the youngest of the Ever-Gaze's creations, the Lifebringer was often shown and spoken of as having a strange duality. For every person who believed him to be benevolent and merciful, there was another who saw him as ruthless and unforgiving. As a result of this, there are clerics of equal numbers on either side of this dichotomy– and the Lifebringer makes no claims to having one be truer than the other. Regardless, whether the mortals welcomed a new life into their world or lost a loved one, they would invoke the name of the Lifebringer, either to ensure a long and prosperous life or to pray that the afterlife would be welcoming to them.

Despite all of his spiritual implications, many artificers and apothecaries would call upon the Lifebringer to bless their latest studies or patients, for he was also a patron of creation and the sciences. As a result, several places of higher learning would hold special events in his name to ask for his blessing of the educational year.

Cleric Divine Domains: Light, Life, Grave Paladin Oaths that would suit this deity: Oath of Redemption Warlock Pacts that would suit this deity: None

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The Sharpshooter

Other names: The Marksman, He Who Sees True

The second youngest of those the Ever-Gazing One created to rule alongside himself, the Sharpshooter was both the patron of familial ties and of bonds of friendship. As groups of adventurers would set out for the first time, many would pray to the Sharpshooter for his blessing over the party and their growth together. Beyond that, he was also the deity known to be a guardian of nature and patron of the hunt; whenever his faithful would successfully bring home their next meal, they gave thanks to the Sharpshooter for its life.

As this deity was naturally good-aligned, many would also invoke his name in a plea for luck and good fortune. Popular sayings for those who would do this would often bid the recipient "the true aim of the Sharpshooter", so that they might get the most favorable result.

Cleric Divine Domains: Life, Nature, Peace Paladin Oaths that would suit this deity: Oath of the Ancients, Oath of Redemption Warlock Pacts that would suit this deity: None

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The Wayfarer

Other names: The Traveler, The Hand of Fate

The Wayfarer was the youngest of the deities of the Ever-Gaze, but was still given a task that proved to be of great importance; he was to keep watch over time itself, and to make sure that everything which had a beginning also earned its rightful end. Matters of diplomacy often began with the invocation of the Wayfarer so that he might bless both parties with lasting peace.

His position over time itself left him with an overally neutral outlook; while he leaned more towards goodness in his actions, he understood that sometimes evil was necessary to bring it about. This caused a lot of people to question those of his faith of how they could be so certain of future events, and even led to some falsely claiming that they could call upon the Wayfarer's own power over fate in order to perform the impossible– but true clerics of the deity knew better than to meddle with things beyond their control; everything would sort itself out with time, after all.

Cleric Divine Domains: Knowledge, Order Paladin Oaths that would suit this deity: Oath of the Watchers Warlock Pacts that would suit this deity: None

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[deifiedrogue]

Eek, I think you got hacked. Hope all is well.

I've been inactive for a while and just noticed! Thank you for the heads-up! :)

[rogue-of-light]

Concept from this ask Using (mostly) earth terms for the sake of simplicity and readability

cw // i don't think really anything but kankri does put his fingers in his hair and tug in frustration, sensory overload as well but i tried to be a little vague with it

There were a lot of things Kankri prided himself on. His maturity, his intelligence... well mostly his maturity admittedly. Today though, today had really put it to the chest.

It started out as a little experiment, a mental game; for him to be as little 'Kankri' as he could. It was going great! Well- okay great is relative and he's never been more stressed as he's been today but he's managed to avoid snapping, going on a rant, or any of his usual behavior so he has been successful on that front. His rising blood pressure, however, would beg to differ.

Out of everything Kankri had to put up with today- everything people tried to throw at him to get him to snap- that stupid little nickname is what got him. 'Kanny'! Pathetic, really, how a wriggler level nickname nearly destroyed all of his progress. Kanny!

After he had excused himself as quickly as he could from the situation and absconded, he found himself amongst the trees and away from the group. Today's build-up begins to bubble and pool inside of him, growing and growing until Kankri finds he can't hold it anymore and begins to yell- no... scream.

His hands find their way into his hair as he tugs, voice going raw from his emotions bubbling and trickling out. It's all too much- everything feels wrong. His sweater is too itchy, leggings too tight- even the hair touching the back of his neck is irritating.

Then, like a flipped switch, his screams turn into sobs. Candy red, mutant, ugly tears drip from his eyes and he can't silence the years of build-up from escaping at this moment. Everything is too much and not enough at the same time. Everyone looks at Kankri but they don't really see him. And really that is his own fault, but at the same time is it really?

...

...

Forcing himself to take deep breaths, sniffling and removing his hands from his hair, Kankri decides that maybe... maybe he's had enough social interaction for one day, a drink sounds mighty fine right now.

It's not like anyone will miss him after all.