#like poor slime need to move on and heal | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-firebird69 · 8 months

Text

We have a huge legal team we're specializing now a lot more and we have big parties on each. We have a large party suing garth it goes to court almost every day and is willing to lose everything rather than to pay you a dime, so we're suing them for a lot more money and we're going to sue them for their stuff and their land and if they keep at it we're going to sue them for everything else and he says we should be suing them for their spaceships already because he's a slime ball low life and nobody will care and it's not really true but he's an idiot and should not be flying overhead like he is so going to be the beginning of processes now and he probably is going to try and harass her son into moving furniture he has a hernia and Ken has one so it's going to go like this if he comes by over and over the city it's get beat up because they're actually black he goes as a white person they say you're in disguise spying and he's going to figure out that he's going to find out minority a****** being a dick and he should because he won't stop. We're going to start suing him Monday for what he's doing and saying right now I'm going to bring him to court I'm going to present evidence that he's trying to harm our son and we're going to present criminal charges people like him end up staying in jail for a while which is great cuz everyone else doesn't and it's going to give us motivation

Bitol and Goddess Wife

He's a weakling and a jerk and he needs this we don't want him around and he's a warlock with the warlock revolution and that's all he is it's something to do with the accident I was in and now when I'm gone so we're going to help out with the lawsuit and so is Biden and he's a complete jackass that guy's running for president is a joke he's not even there he's so damn stupid it's harassing my son constantly what all sorts of stupid things they should not be running anything but there they are brainless idiots running stuff and their time is running out and their numbers are dwindling and soon they'll be gone and it didn't help us any foreigners say they have a use and my son told it to me we can withstand radiation and pressure and depth and we are very strong and we can move things for soldiers and more and they do understand it's going to be a fight against this other demon group and we're humanoid and they're not and the other demons know it they're like bugs so you people don't have a job you more luck except to go in there and feed them yourself

Camilla VP

I want to add them too and we're going to help with the lawsuits they're going to be very big and we're going to develop some and we're going to be on a lot of the group lawsuits against people like Garth is an incessant a****** and a constant threats it doesn't do anything and he won't leave our friend alone and yeah he almost got beat up a lot by him and he tells him too shut up I'm going to beat you to beat you to death and just stops and starts up again and he doesn't do anything about it he's just a wimp. He's sitting there calling my grandson a f** and all sorts of stuff and we're going to help sue for libel and songs he took lyrics and ideas and all sorts of things heels heals them a lot of money and has him running around poor and wants to put them on the street is a despicable loser

Biden president

And yes he's holding the president down in these places of poverty and keeping him there because he's a jackass and the guy doesn't know his bounds and he's going to learn a lot of people hate him Trump is after him for what he did out there and all sorts of things and he does the max found a whole bunch of crimes he was committing people in fort Myers tons of them and a lot of Macs and his gassing a lot of trumpsters and bja too and he didn't care what he was killing he was just taking huge numbers of foreigners hate him because of what he's doing overseas and he was caught the last time he went out there and they're going after him won't take too much for him to fall but we are going to make sure he does this latest rendition is ridiculous and our son was going to go out there the car was being a huge a****** and her son said I don't really want to do that with me for a huge a****** and he's in Walmart recently trying to mess around with the stuff and people catch him and they beat him up and she's anus she's heinous and turns him against her son so much and he's not turning back and it's her trying to get weather son and she's big and gross and she was s******* on the floor and Winn-Dixie right in front of everybody crap was coming out her ass going down her leg onto the floor and Winn-Dixie and she's a cannibal and he can smell it everybody told him to get the hell out and it took them about 20 minutes to finally move

We're going to sue them for a lot of money for holding them hostage with social security and they're doing a lot of it and all sorts of people start saying they were the Trump swear too and we're suing them for it

Bitol and Goddess Wife

We're going to add to the lawsuits some very serious charges and we're going to bring them to international criminal court these people have been harassing all of us for a long time and they're going to pay and on Sundays the help in the backing and he needs it right now

Olympus

They're moving in there but we need more troops I'm putting it out there now

Thor Freya

0 notes

bluemoonfantasiesiii · 1 year

Note

Vincent chuckled at the younger alchemist and shook his head "no, my friend~. It is just that I love my races~ and it is quite a pleasant activity for me to refresh my energy~. Thank you! But I believe you said the last is a deflated Anemo slime~" he said with playful tone before patting Nigredo's head lightly "now I wonder why not a Cryo slime~?" He asked with big teasing smile.

The ship was started to settle at the harbour's wooden bridge "WE'RE HERE!" one of the crew called out to the others when it was safe to start unload the cargo they got from Inazuma.

"Oh~.. time to say good bye for now~, right~?" Lily asked with small pout "yes~, but it's only small time~. Also, we both are going to buy gifts~, aren't we now?" The younger artist asked his daughter who lighten up with joy again "Yes~! I hope to see you tomorrow again~, Angel~, Big brothers Nigredo and Albedo~" she said with big smile of bright hope as she gave each of them a hug before running off to hug the man that walking toward them along side the chef lady who hugged her back in turns.

"Ready to sit out, I see! Take care of yourselves everyone, hope to see you all again next time!" The Captain said as he patted Rubedo's head and playfully mess his hair up a little then smirked at the poor Vincent who got his head locked in the man's arm with the free hand slightly pressing on his head while messing his hair "and do what we did agreed on! Be a man!" He said in encouraging yet playful tone before he let the struggling man free.

Lily chuckled before hugging her dad's leg "papa~, are you okay~?" She asked him, trying to help him and he played along "if I carry you, it might help me balance faster" he mumbled before carrying the bouncing girl in his arms.

"HAHAHA!! Looks like you need a healing kisses next~!" The captain teased "how about you start by getting your own before make fun of me~? At least, I know how to ask for them~" Vincent's reply got the man to be flustered and coughing out loud to hide his embarrassment "that's non of your concern, doc" he mumbled in reply with Lily simply kissing her dad's cheeks with smile "are you okay now~?" Her ask were genuine, really thinks this does help because that what her real parents used to do for her.

The adventurer giggled and nodded his head "yes~, thank you my tiny flower~" he said with warm smile kissing her forehead gently "we must move to make most of the day!" He said looking at his friends with smile.

Nigredo stuck his tongue out at Vincent while his son lifted Lily off the ground and spun her around before setting her back down.

Nigredo ruffled her hair. Albedo fixed it for her when it was his turn for a hug.

“Happy shopping, you two!” Nigredo said. “See you tomorrow.”

“Bye-bye, everyone!” Rubedo said with an enthusiastic wave.

After parting ways with the crew and Vincent and Lily, Nigredo led his family to a secluded area outside the harbor and tore a rift in space directly to the workshop back on Dragonspine.

#moon answers shit #vincent anon #rhinesons au

1 note · View note

zhonglis-wifey · 3 years

Note

Can you do scenarios that reader found Dragon Zhongli is bleeding and they save him. One day Zhongli(in human form but reader don't know) want to find them to repay after healed.

feel free to change or ignore if you won't to do it.💦💦💦

hi anon! this is so precious omg, i love dragon zhongli so much!!!! tysm for requesting 💓

i decided to make dragon zhongli the little baby rex lapis from genshin merch bc it’s so cute lmfao. i wanted to preorder one but they’re sold out :( oh well i preordered a geo slime plushie so that’s cool too!!

Word Count: 1381

TW: Blood

Rarely did the Adventurers’ Guild send you into Jueyun Karst for your commissions. It was common knowledge that entering there was strictly forbidden by the residing Adepti, and no adventurer in Liyue dared to disobey them. But Katheryne informed you of a commissioner who desperately needed qingxin for some reason, and although you knew it was a risky choice, you decided to go to Jueyun Karst to get them. You’d never turned down a commission before and you were not going to let some talking animals break that streak.

Unfortunately, you greatly miscalculated the treacherous conditions of Jueyun Karst. The mountainous terrain proved detrimental to your stamina and the abundance of hilichurls only made it worse. By the time you’d collected enough qingxin to go back to Liyue Harbor, you felt like your entire body was shutting down. Your vision was blurry and your limbs were heavy as you trudged through the stone forest to exit Jueyun Karst.

Shockingly, you didn’t run into any Adepti while collecting qingxin. Actually, the only other living beings you saw were hilichurls, slimes, and birds. No Adepti around. You were confused as to why the rumors of territorial illuminated beasts hadn’t come true for you.

The backpack slung over your shoulders felt heavier with every step. Your body was telling you to just give up and take a nap on the ground, but you couldn’t wait any longer to get back home. You missed the comfort of your soft bed, the familiarity of your home, and the safety of the walls around you. Nothing was going to stop you from going back to Liyue Harbor as soon as possible.

That was, until you noticed a small brown dragon lying down next to a few pieces of cor lapis, whimpering in pain. You knew it would make your life easier if you just ignored it, but you couldn’t just leave the poor thing alone like that. It had to be an Adeptus, too. If you didn’t help it, who knows what horrible things may happen to you?

You knelt beside the dragon and gingerly held you hand out to it, trying to gauge whether or not it would be friendly to you. The dragon slowly approached your hand before gently nuzzling into your palm. A subconscious smile made its way to your lips.

The dragon seemed just as exhausted as you. You knew it was awake but it’s eyes remained closed. You examined the Adeptus’s form for any signs of injury and found a deep cut beneath its eye, golden blood shimmering as it hit the sunlight. Your breathing became uneven as you recognized the situation you’d found yourself in: you have an injured Adeptus in your hands and if you don’t take care of it, your whole life could be ruined.

“I’m gonna try to help you, okay?” you reassured the dragon. It hummed in response without moving, seemingly agreeing to your proposition.

You quickly removed your backpack from your shoulders and opened it. As you rifled through its contents in search of the emergency needle and thread you kept there, you warned the dragon of your inexperience.

“I don’t have a vision so I can use any magic to heal you,” you explained anxiously, “and I don’t really know how to do this. Please forgive me if I hurt you.”

The dragon winced upon contact with the needle. You muttered a quick apology before continuing to stitch up the wound, baffled by the nature of its blood. The dragon stayed as still as possible while you worked, but small, strained noises of pain escaped from its throat. You felt bad for it, wishing that you could’ve done better to heal it.

“There,” you said as you studied your handiwork. “Is that better?” The dragon hummed again.

You smiled at it again, this time purposefully. “I’ve gotta get back home now. The sun is starting to set…” You turned your gaze to the sky above to admire the yellow haze encapsulating the heavens. “Try to stay safe, Adeptus.”

After your exhausting commission in Jueyun Karst, you couldn’t be bothered to do any more difficult work for the Guild the next day. You were perfectly content with just staying back in Liyue Harbor and taking easy commissions from fellow city-dwellers.

The only commission you picked up for the day was to collect sandbearer wood so Hu Tao could make more coffins. Thankfully there were plenty of sandbearer trees right outside of town, so you wouldn’t have to go far. Plus, you liked Hu Tao. She was always fun to be around. You heard that she just hired a new funeral consultant, so you were interested in meeting them too.

Hu Tao greeted you as excitedly as she always did when you entered Wangsheng Funeral Parlor with sandbearer wood in hand.

“[Name]!” she exclaimed. “I’m so glad I got to see you! I’m actually about to leave for a meeting with Yanfei, so I was kinda worried that I wouldn’t get to see you.”

“It’s nice to see you too, Tao,” you grinned. “So what do you want me to do with this wood?”

“Oh, just give it to Zhongli and he’ll deal with the rest,” Hu Tao instructed, now standing in the doorway.

“Got it. Good luck with your meeting! Don’t get arrested,” you joked.

Hu Tao crossed her arms, mirroring your sarcastic behavior. “Look who’s talking, Miss I-Went-To-Jueyun-Karst.”

You smirked at her. “Go. You’re gonna be late, you know.”

“Alright,” she laughed. “I’ll see you later!”

When the door shut behind Hu Tao, you were greeted with the advent of a new voice: “I take it you’ve completed Director Hu’s commission?”

Startled, you quickly turned around and faced the voice’s owner. You assumed he was Hu Tao’s new employee. You couldn’t help yourself from blushing upon seeing them: elegantly dark clothing, alluring amber eyes, and a conspicuous scar on their cheek.

Remembering that you had a job to do outside of admiring this complete stranger, you composed yourself. “Yes,” you answered plainly. “You’re Zhongli, right?”

He nodded. “I am. Here, let me take the wood from you.”

You carefully handed the wood to him, trying not to distract yourself with getting lost in his nearly-glowing eyes. But you just couldn’t help yourself. You felt especially drawn to that scar, though. It was quite the coincidence that you had just cured an Adeptus with a cut in that spot, and now this gorgeous man with the exact same scar was before you.

Zhongli placed the wood on an empty table behind them. You probably could’ve left by then, but something compelled you to stay.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” you began, fully aware of how intrusive this next part would sound but also knowing it was far too late to back out, “how did you get that scar?”

Zhongli’s hand moved to the scar. “Oh, this? I was attacked by hilichurls in Jueyun Karst yesterday,” he explained.

You didn’t recall seeing any other humans around when you were there yesterday.

“Huh,” you pondered. “I was in Jueyun Karst yesterday too…”

The two of you looked at each other knowingly. Neither of you really knew what to say next.

“I suppose you’re aware of my identity, then. Thank you for healing me,” Zhongli broke the silence between you two. “I hate to ask anything more of you, but please don’t tell anyone, especially Director Hu. I don’t want to find out what she would do if she knew.”

You panicked at the confirmation of your suspicions. What were you supposed to do in the presence of an Adeptus? You’d never done this before — most people hadn’t.

“Y-You’re welcome, Almighty Adeptus,” you stammered. Zhongli just laughed at you.

“There’s no need for all of that,” he chuckled. “Please just call me Zhongli.”

You felt like you were going to die of embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Zhongli,” you corrected yourself. “Is there anything else I can do for you? You’re an Adeptus, right? So I should probably do much more to express my gratitude for your protection over Liyue.”

“Actually, yes, there is something I’d like you to do,” Zhongli requested, speaking softly to ease your clearly heightened nerves. “You can let me take you on a date.”

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin #genshin impact x reader #zhongli #zhongli x reader

453 notes · View notes

bump1nthen1ght · 3 years

Text

Dangerous Liaisons (Reader x Tentacle Monster)

Pairing: Male!Kitsune!Reader/Tentacle Monster

Genre: FWB, Dark Fantasy, Sado-Masochism

Warnings: 18+ content up ahead! Description of blood and cuts, Mentions of past dub-con/rape (none depicted), Mentions of past murder, Just some bad people y’all

Word Count: 1695 words

Summary: After one of your neighbor’s kidnapping goes awry, you decide to make up for his lost prey.

Request: hi! i fell in love with your tentacle write, now my absolute favorite, so i’m here to request another one if you don’t mind. for this could it be a male tentacle monster x kitsune male reader? and instead of being traditionally good natured, reader’s of a more dark/evil-esk nature, as well as open minded to whatever kinks. esp anything rough, sadistic, & bloody. Tyvm!!

The cave floor is cold, icy compared to the humid air of the summer day. Sweat beads at your shoulders and your temple as you walk in, the shade a nice relief from the setting sun. You thread your tail in between your fingers, eyes drifting to the drying pool of blood near your foot.

“Another one bit the dust, huh?”

A deep gurgling sound crawls through the dark at the center of the cave. The looming stalactites and pitch-black emptiness might have scared away any nearby travelers or the mortals of the village, but you know what hides here; It’s not that scary.

To you, anyway.

“No….escaped.”

You roll your eyes, walking deeper inside until you see the familiar form of your pitiful neighbor.

He isn’t terribly damaged, only one long scratch running up one of his tentacles. It’s one of his larger ones, so the poor little morsel he had captured must have shocked him enough to run away and avoid any of the other tendrils.

“Tch, figures.” You chide, kicking a rock his way. “Seems you’ll have to move caves again. There will be adventurers here by tomorrow morning to kill you.” You brush off the dust from a nearby boulder, plopping your butt on it as he moans in pain. “This is what you get, Nio. You got too greedy, kidnapping mortals to partake in your ‘fun’”

A lone tentacle throws a pebble at you, but you dodge. A set of golden eyes peers out from the mass of limbs, furrowed in anxiety. You had only seen the form he used to lure his ‘playmates’ a couple of times; It resembled a handsome young man, only entirely purple, with shiny skin and placating smile. It was just tall enough to peek out from the cave and attract any wanderers, coming close enough to be snatched up by his tentacles, stolen away for his sick fantasies.

“Besides,” You click your teeth, “They break too easily. How many have you gone through now, six? Seven?”

“.....Nine.” Nio hisses, rubbing soothingly over his slowly-healing wound.

“See? Insatiable, you are. It’s not a very respectable look, you know.” You stand up from your seat, sauntering over to where Nio huddles in the corner. You rub your neck, feeling the sweat pooled at the base, and your robe falls down to reveal your shoulder. Nio’s eye’s flit from your exposed skin to your flicking tail. A lone tentacle, dripping with a viscous ooze, slowly wraps around your ankle. You chuckle, the damp air slowly reeking of Nio’s pheromones.

“But it’s your lucky day.” You undo the strap of your robe, letting it fall down your chest and exposing your form to Nio’s greedy eyes. “Because I’m a little insatiable too.”

Nio’s pupils blow out in excitement, his tentacles shifting as he slowly reveals his form. The tentacle around your ankle begins to travel up your calf, leaving a trail of slime behind it. But you yank away your foot and stomp on the tip, Nio squealing in pain and jolting backward. You smile, his yipes music to your ears.

“Just because I’m giving you my time doesn’t mean you're the one in control, idiot.” You throw your robe to the side, slicking your hair back between your ears, “Now you can touch me.”

Two more tentacles approach your legs, far more cautious than before. But when they reach your legs, you allow them to fondle your calves and your thighs, that thick ooze making your skin light and tingly. You let out a long sigh as you let the slow-burning lust of Nio’s aphrodisiac slime run through your body. You don’t need a lot, but it’s a definite plus of these rendezvous the two of you have.

You walk forward, Nio’s hungry tentacles easily latching on to your soft skin. They skirt around your erogenous zones, knowing what punishment awaits if they do anything without your direct permission. But one tentacle craves the pain, and tentatively fondles your balls.

Your deep groan descends into a snarky chuckle, letting the tentacle press against your perineum and even prod at your asshole. But with quick precision you grab Nio’s wounded tentacle and dig one of your claws into his wound.

All of the tentacles around you shudder and tighten as Nio shreaks, but none of them detach, even as blood drips down your fingers and onto your palms. You pull out your thumb from Nio’s flesh, the tiny wound reopened from your prodding, and take a long lick up your wrist. Crimson stains your jaw and lips, smearing as you lick your lips from the taste. It’s iron-like, but just a little bit sweeter than mortals. It’s another plus of sleeping with Nio.

You relish in the taste, putting on a show of rubbing your bloody palm up and down your chest. Nio’s eyes squint in frustration, but they dart up and down the red trails left on your skin.

“That hurt?” Nio nods and you lick your lips once more. “Good-”

You’re left wheezing as the offending tentacle shoves itself past your asshole with no warning. Another tentacle wraps itself around the base of your cock and squeezes hard. You keel over from the sharp tension and fire that is stoked in your belly. You look down at the offending tentacles with a sneer, but you can’t help the small moans that escape you as you’re stretched open.

“Oh, we’re playing that game h-huh?” You mutter, thrusting your hips into the tight, hot grip of the tentacle around your cock. That tingly sensation now buzzes across your shaft, the tentacle alternating between playing with your tip and holding your balls in a vice grip. But the hand you use to yank back his bleeding tentacle is swift, controlled.

Blood falls down the appendage in small rivulets, the wound slowly rehealing before you lick the tip. You let your tongue roll out of your mouth, licking up the tentacle like a frozen treat, just avoiding the open wound. Nio’s groans rumble through the cave floor and up your body. You sink your lower half into his grip, more tentacles coming to support (and grope) your ass and thighs.

Your hand squeezes Nio’s trapped tentacles, claws retracted, and coerce it further down your throat. Saliva and blood drips past your lips as it goes even deeper, thrusting against the back of your throat. Droplets fall onto your hard cock, now covered in a mixture of Nio’s ooze and your pre-cum.

The tentacle in your ass has become sloppy, it’s pace haggard and quickly losing focus on your prostate. To kick it back into gear, you nip the tentacle in your mouth with your teeth, pulling it out completely before giving it a kiss.

“You’re so greedy, Nio. Isn’t this supposed to be a partnership?”

Nio growls, but you can see the burning lust in his eyes as they take over your debauched mouth. Your lips are bruised from the blowjob, your skin sweaty from the myriad of sensations attacking your body all at once. You kiss the tip of the tentacle again and give him a wink.

The tentacle inside your ass picks up speed, going even deeper than before and paying extra attention to your pleasure spot. You smirk, slowly reinserting the tentacle back in your mouth.

“Good boy.” You sputter, Nio’s tentacle hungrily forcing itself down your throat once more. It presses hard against your gag reflex, ooze spattering over your cheeks as it plunges in and out of your mouth, soon matching the tempo of the one inside you. With each jolt of pleasure running up and down your abdomen is another shuddering thrust into your mouth.

You take deep breaths, compensating for the thickness currently blocking your airways. Despite his roughness, you do feel Nio slip a tentacle back to the base of your tail, petting your fur with light touches as another one punishes your asshole.

Aww, what a softie.

You can feel a tightness beginning to cinch in your stomach, your cock weeping globs of pre-cum, spurred on and on by Nio’s aphrodisiac. The tentacles coveting your body thrash with abandon, shuddering as their movements become messier and messier. A tentacle presses up against your insides, barely leaving your asshole before pushing it back in with an uneven pace.

You moan, heading rolling backwards as you feel your climax approaching and your muscles preparing for a big finish.

But right before you can approach that peak, a large tentacle wraps itself around your neck, and squeezes.

You barely hear Nio’s raucous moans as your throat constricts around his tentacle, the rubber band finally snapping as you orgasm. Your hips jerk into Nio’s grip as ropes of cum spray across Nio’s body and up your navel. He is quick to lap it up, the tendrils soaking in it as the pet your skin.

Nio let's put another booming growl as hot liquid shoots up your asshole and down your throat, viscous and sweet like nectar. The heat feels like heaven against your sore muscles, dripping out of your holes and down your skin as Nio finally pulls himself all the way out of you.

You collapse your body against the cave wall, sweat and cum coating your skin as you slide down to your bottom, cringing from your ass’ sensitivity.

The air is thick, reeking of bodily fluids and sex. The pool of blood has long dried, barely leaving a dent on the cacophony of scents in the air.

After catching a breath, you stretch your arms upwards, craning your back before pushing yourself back to standing. You bend your neck too and fro, your tail lazily swinging behind you.

You approach Nio, still quivering from his climax, and grab your robe. You sling it over your shoulder and brush your hair back.

“I’d suggest you get going soon. We don’t want any stupid knights to come and ruin our fun, right?”

Nio gurgles, eyes drooping as he sinks back into his mass of tentacles, exhausted. You lean down and pat one of them.

“That's what I thought.”

#my writing #male reader insert #reader insert #Tentacle monster #kitsune #kitsune reader #monster reader #monster x reader

674 notes · View notes

tedturneriscrazy · 3 years

Text

Another Saturday, another episode! Let's take a look at Keeping Up A-fear-ances!

(Good lord I'm starting to make myself sound like some sort of content creator)

Oh, okay, we're just starting at that level of intensity, huh?

Chest gem origins

Gwendolyn not being satisfied with managing the curse and determined to cure it? I'm sure this won't be a real world allegory in the slightest.

Oh, so Eda literally just stumbles upon the portal? I could call that contrived, but honestly it's not dissimilar to how Dipper found Journal 3. For that matter, the entirety of Lord of the Rings is predicated on an accidental discovery like this and nobody gave Tolkien shit about it.

Was the eye on the portal cracked in previous episodes? I don't remember.

Seems like Gwen is the "well-meaning but ultimately misguided" flavor of mom.

As an aside, I am now quite curious about how Eda's first trip to the human realm went. Maybe a future episode will cover it? At any rate, I smell a new favorite fic prompt.

The screaming alarms in the Demon Realm will never not be funny to me.

Also, that is a worrying number of hearts. Eda is straight up murdering these poor creatures.

For some reason the gold fang being removable never occurred to me as a possibility, and now I feel like a kid who's discovered that Santa isn't real.

Oh hey, the new outfit! I'm also impressed how close to symmetrical that tearing was.

I need to get a screencap of Luz sleeping on that stack of books because she is adorable.

Also, staying up all night researching? This season seems determined to completely eradicate the notion of Luz being dumb, and I am here for it.

I have a feeling the Hexside mug will be making its way to The Mystery Shack in the near future.

Lilith's first experience with transformation and she seems understandably horrified.

The curse acting stronger when stressed? That seems...important.

Ah, so the dismemberment is from the curse! A surprisingly useful side effect from what we've seen so far.

Can I just say that I appreciate how Eda's reaction to Lilith's first taste of transformation is immediate remedy, explanation, and reassurance? And doesn't make any snarky comments along the lines of "now you know what it's like?" Whatever happened in that week and a half must have been cathartic as hell.

"Always. Always curious." Luz is the TOH fandom.

(Also, Eda, you know she is, considering how much she went on about your "mysterious past" at the Covention)

"Magic bird tornado?!" Luz has a way with words that's just *chef's kiss*.

"Gwendolyn." Eda is already just fucking done.

"MOM?!?!" Jeez, Lilith, you're just now hearing all this?

I was charmed by how motherly Gwen was acting toward Eda, but then she kinda just...dismissed Lilith, and now I'm somehwat less charmed.

(Sweet flea as a term of endearment is kinda cute, though might have some unfortunate implications depending on how you want to interpret it)

"Who knows what they put in those nasty concoctions?" OH WE GOING FOR THE ANTI-VAXXERS NOW YESSSS

Luz and Lilith's reaction to that whole exchange is priceless.

Everyone's perspective here makes perfect sense for who they are and what they've been through.

Poor Lilith. Her cursing Eda is beginning to make more sense.

Ah, thus begins the collaboration.

"We'll be consulting someone very special." Why does that seem so...ominous?

Is there anyone who watched this episode for the first time whose bullshit detector didn't go off immediately when Gwen mentioned finding someone who promised a cure?

Heh, Palm Stings.

Nonbelievers will be blinded by the power of the tome? I'm sure they will be, Wartlop.

I must say, as something of a scientist myself (okay that's not true, I'm a QA tech for a food manufacturer, but I do have a chemistry degree), I am 100% here for the swings being taken at faith healing/"miracle" cures/anti-vaxxers in this episode

Oh, we Wile E. Coyote now, huh?

Also, interesting how much apple blood is being played up in this episode.

Lilith please you're projecting your mommy issues on a literal child

OH WE REALLY JUST WILE E. COYOTE HUH?

You're right, Luz, Gwen's bicep game is goals.

(Somewhat disappointed the scars are from questing and not beastkeeping, but eh)

Why do I get the feeling there's gonna be a future episode where everybody stages an intervention for Eda's apple blood problem?

"Those feathers mean we're driving the beast out" Gwen no

Hooty is holding the brain cell? Oh no...

If that ice cream came from the Night Market it would explain why Lilith sounds drunk.

(Side note: I can't be the only one getting flashbacks to Mermista's ice cream binge, right? Different context, but still)

"Abomi-berry" "Franken fruit" "Key slime pie" These are A+ flavor names.

Oh, there's the transformation...

I must say that whole segment kinda rubbed me the wrong way. The way King's opinion on his dad was changed seemed...I don't know how to describe it. I get that they needed a trigger for Lilith's transformation, but honestly if any part of the episode is contrived it's this.

"¡It really is that good!" So that's what an accent slip in written form looks like. (The upside down exclamation point is used in Spanish, in case anyone didn't know)

I keep half expecting Eda to say "Beep! Beep!" at this point.

Luz is finally asking questions. Took long enough.

Ah, the classic "moving the goal posts to extract more money from a desparate family member" technique.

Luz channeling Scorpion, we love to see it.

There is an exquisite irony in Eda's mom being scammed, I must say.

Ah, so that's where the elixirs went. Dammit, Gwen.

Luz is definitely thinking "Are you fucking kidding me right now?!"

Beast!Lilith is massive.

"Sweet flea?" Gwen just realized she done goofed.

"I can see you still need a little time." God Luz is so fucking smart.

The con revealed.

OH DAMN SCARY MAMA

(Also I am terrified of bees/wasps, so extra scary mama in my book)

The scam is revealed, goblins, getting back into the Wartlop disguise is kinda pointless.

She joined the Beast Keeping coven entirely to cure the curse? That's dedication. A shame you couldn't have spared some of that for Lilith.

Still, I do like badass scary mama Gwen. I'd be down to see more of that.

Owl Beast fight!

I am slayed by the fact that the portraits are now officially a recurring gag 😂

Aw, here's The Moment™️

"My turn to drive" Does this imply cars are a thing on the Boiling Isles after all?

Lilith crying almost immediately💔 She was holding onto a lot of pain.

Yes, King, she was trying to do her best. I mean, road to hell or whatever, but at least Gwen got there in the end.

WHAT?! YOU'RE BREAKING UP LULU AND HOOTCIFER?!?!?!?

Terrace, that's just cruel. (Worthless brownie points for whoever understands that reference)

No, seriously, you can't just give me my favorite inter-character relationship in the series after Lumity and just...take it away like that, come on! 😭😭😭😭😭😭

I know I should remark on how Lilith told Gwen about the circumstances of the curse, how Gwen rightfully accepted responsibility for the whole situation, and how Luz finds the big hair aspirational, but...NOOOO DON'T END THE ADVENTURES OF LULU AND HOOTCIFER WHYYYYYYYYY💔😭💔😭💔😭

"BUT I CAN'T HOLD A PEN!"

I will never emotionally recover from this.

Okay, I think I got that out of my system. Anyway...

Not the only human, huh? Cue the "Belos is a human" theorists going into maximum overdrive.

That said, a tantalizing lore dump.

We certainly do have a lot of garbage. Some of it even holds office. HEY-O!

Setting up the next episode, too. Continuity!

Camp's over, huh? That means it's been three months.

Way to misdirect with Camila, guys. That said, we have now seen Camila cry and I HATE it. (In the right way, I think)

WHAT THE FUCK

HOLY SHIT

CREEPY LUZ IS REAL WHAT

OWJEIWHQGIWWOPQ

(It's hard to keysmash on a phone, even with autocorrect off)

That wraps it up! The flaws in this episode seem more pronounced than any others in the season so far, but the good stuff was really good! Overall a solid episode! I know everybody's looking forward to library Lumity in the next one (so am I), but I'm personally eager to see what they do with Gus. His part is the A plot, after all.

Anyway, I'll be back at this next week! Still hard to believe this is a thing, but that's life, I guess.

#the owl house #eda clawthorne #gwendolyn clawthorne #luz noceda #lilith clawthorne #king of demons #toh king #toh s2 spoilers #the owl house s2 spoilers #the owl house season 2 spoilers #toh spoilers #the owl house spoilers

48 notes · View notes

hermits-that-craft · 3 years

Text

In My Dreams (Will You Remember Me?)

Flower Husbands Fic - Chapter Four - The hues in our hair compliment one another

Ao3 in the comments

Jimmy watches as the guests walk in, gawking at the decorations that he, Katherine and Gem put so much effort into. Pride fills his chest - a week of hard work paying off in happy citizens and rulers alike. Jimmy nods politely to Iris as they walk in, he knows that being one of Pix’s advisors means that the dryad doesn’t get much time off, so he hopes that they enjoy themself.

A group of dryads bow to him before they disappear into the crowd, which makes him happy - he’s still recognisable with the mask that Katherine gave him. It’s a standard masquerade mask, though it has small cod painted on it in bronze paint, though it has a white veil attached the the lower half to cover his face. It was nice of Katherine, to remember that he prefers to hide his face.

He feels safe with his face hidden.

Jimmy watches as a young woman in a black cloak comes in, and an axolotl hybrid from his empire chats with a man from Mezalea. He’s glad that they opened to ball not only to the leaders of the empires but their citizens as well, and a fae man in a forest green vest dances with a spirit in a ribbon skirt.

The doors open, distracting Jimmy from people watching for a moment.

Lizzie walks in, the necklace around her neck shimmering in the glow from the purple lanterns. Jimmy watches as everyone gawks at the wedding gift that he gave her - it’s rare to see her wear it out of battle. The necklace has two axolotls, one made of rose quartz and the other of red jasper, curled around a pearl and inset in silver. It was handcrafted by the finest artisans of the Cod Empire, and Jimmy himself carefully enchanted it with healing and protection.

The best wedding gift she received, if Jimmy does say so himself.

“You clean up nicely, did Katherine give you that suit?” Lizzie teases, pointedly ignoring the stares she receives as she walks across the room to him.

“You’ll find that your husband did, for your wedding.” Jimmy smiles. “Though I did get it altered slightly for the party.”

“You didn’t put slime in it, did you?”

“Lizzie!” Jimmy gasps, pushing his sisters arm in rage. She laughs, ignoring his fake rage.

“I’m very glad you ditched the cod head.” She says. “I think Katherine would have killed you.”

“She actually gave me this mask.” Jimmy admits.

“Ohh, look at Scott’s outfit.” Lizzie says, and Jimmy turns back to the crowd.

Scott stands next to Joey, looking mildly uncomfortable. The king of the lost empire wears a red suit with a black crown, rubies and jaspers adorning it. But Joey’s outfit pales in comparison to the one that Scott wears.

Scott’s wearing an intricate white top, with long sleeves that bell out at the end. He has a high waisted skirt, fading from a sky blue into a deep, ocean blue. He looks like he’s stepped out of a high fantasy story, a golden crown shimmering in his blue hair. He looks stunning, making Jimmy feel almost as though he’s underdressed.

Scott makes eye contact with Joey, an emotion Jimmy doesn’t understand flashes in Scott’s eyes as he walks over to Jimmy.

“Lizzie, I think I’ve made him angry.” Jimmy mumbles, breaking eye contact with Scott.

“He’s your land boy, you work it out.” Lizzie says. “I need to go find my land boy.”

“Scott isn’t mine, Lizzie - Don’t leave me!” Jimmy protests, but it’s already too late, the queen of the ocean has left Jimmy to whatever fate Scott has planned for him.

Hopefully Lizzie will hold a nice funeral for him.

“You look nice.” Scott says softly, barely audible over the music.

“Oh, thank you.” Jimmy says, the back of his neck reddening. “You clearly outclass everyone here.”

“You really think so?” Scott asks, his face red. Poor Scott, he mustn’t get complimented often.

“I know so.” Jimmy smiles, though the man can’t see it.

“Could I ask you to dance?” Scott asks, offering Jimmy his hand. Jimmy blinks in surprise, looking into Scott’s eyes in shock. The elven man’s eyes glitter in the lantern light, light and full of something Jimmy can’t quite place.

Even so, Jimmy puts his hand into Scott’s, and lets the man pull him into a dance.

Scott’s hand rests on Jimmy’s waist, and Jimmy puts his hand on Scott’s shoulder, letting him lead. Scott, thankfully, doesn’t mention when Jimmy steps on his feet, the king just mumbling instructions to Jimmy as he leads them.

“You teach dances like this often?” Jimmy asks breathlessly, trying to concentrate on not stepping on Scott’s feet.

“No, I don’t. I don’t think I’m even teaching you this correctly.” Scott admits. “I’m not even sure this is a real dance.”

“This feels pretty real to me.” Jimmy says, his heart picking up. “Kind of familiar, like I’ve done it in a dream, but real?”

“This is dreamlike?” Scott asks, cocking an eyebrow.

“Yeah.” Jimmy admits. “Do you think we could spin with this dance.”

“If you want to, then of course.” Scott says, spinning Jimmy around.

Jimmy giggles slightly, breathless as his hand falls onto Scott’s shoulder again. Scott leads them again, and Jimmy lets his feet go without thinking. It’s like the dance he had in his nightmare, with his shadow husband. Scott’s hand on his waist is comforting, a promise of safety, in a party of peace.

The music slows and they stop, breathless and hearts hammering. Jimmy takes his hand off of Scott’s shoulder, pulling away from his dance partner.

“I’m going to get a drink, you coming?” Jimmy offers. Maybe this could end with a new ally, a new friend.

“I need some air.” Scott admits, rubbing the back of his neck as though he’s nervous. “I’ll see you later?”

“See you soon.” Jimmy promises, smiling brightly at the elf.

The other man just nods, walking out of the room and up the stairs. Jimmy moves off of the dancefloor, avoiding bumping into people as he makes his way to the table, picking a prawn off of the table to eat while he looks for something to drink.

“Enjoying the food?” Pearl asks, startling Jimmy.

“It’s nice.” Jimmy says. “I love the prawns.”

“Thank you! I was hoping to get something from every empire.” Pearl says. “I’m glad I got something for you and Lizzie. Your empires were the hardest.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! I could have helped.” Jimmy apologises.

“Don’t be. Be more sorry that you didn’t tell Katherine about you and Scott. She’s rather excited that the prospect of you two being together.”

“What?” Jimmy asks, blinking.

“Oh, if it’s supposed to be a secret I’ll tell her to leave you two alone.” Pearl says, laughing. “Next time, though, don’t dance in a public ball like that. Rumours will spread!”

Jimmy stands confused, staring at the space that Pearl used to be in. He must be tired, why would anyone start a rumour about him and Scott? There’s nothing to talk about. They’re potentially friends, barely aquantinces.

“I should find Scott.” Jimmy mumbles, walking in a daze towards the stairs. Scott must be on the balcony, right?

“Jimmy!” Pixl says, relief on his face. “You need to come with me. We’re leaving.”

“What?” Jimmy asks incredulously. “Why are we leaving?”

“Emergency at Lizzie’s empire, she’s asked that we both attend.” Pixl says, grabbing Jimmy’s hand and dragging him out.

“What’s the emergency?” Jimmy asks, waving goodbye to Pearl and Gem at the door. The two of them share relieved looks as Pixl drags Jimmy further away.

Lizzie and Joel stand in the middle of the courtyard, holding a spare pair of elytra that they put of Jimmy’s shoulders as Pixl straps himself into his own elytra. Jimmy straps the elytra on, wriggling uncomfortably.

“What’s going on?”

“Gem told us to go home.” Lizzie says. “Sausage and Fwip are up to no good, apparently.”

“Pixl said that there was an emergency at your empire?”

“I lied.” Pixl says. “Don’t look at me like that, you wouldn’t have come otherwise!”

“Look as funny as this is we have to go.” Joel says, pushing Jimmy and Pixl slightly.

The group takes off, flying into the sky. Guilt eats at Jimmy the further they fly away, and he turns back to look at the hall. Did anyone warn Scott that Sausage and Fwip were up to something?

He broke his promise to Scott.

----

“You look cute in the bunker.” The shadow says, sitting on the roof. Jimmy can just barely see out of it, and he knows that his husband wouldn’t be able to see at all.

“Shouldn’t you be preparing for battle?” Jimmy asks. “You don’t want to die.”

“I’m on my green life. I’m fine.” His husband says. “You’re the one we’ve got to worry about. Burning Dogwarts banner, really poppy?”

“I don’t want to see you sacrificed on any altar, petal.” Jimmy responds easily. “I’ll be fine, the bunker is safe and there’s an emergency exit.”

“Promise me you’ll come home.” His husband asks, standing up.

“For you? Of course.” Jimmy responds. “In sickness and health. You’ll always have me by your side.”

Jimmy watches as the shadow people fight. It’s dreamlike, unreal to him. Swords clash and fires spread across a desert stained in blood. The dogwarts banner flies and burns and his allies are so outnumber it won’t ever be fair.

And a scream tears from his throat as his husband is shot.

His body dissipates, he’s not dead. Not permanently, but something is wrong. This world mustn’t have respawn, not the infinite respawn that it’s supposed to. Green life. First life.

The love of his life is dead. He will come back, but he’s dead now.

“We want that banner!” A man yells, an enemy. There isn’t any winning this. He needs to get to him, to his husband, to his petal.

He’s shot through the throat on the ladder to the escape route.

Jimmy's screams echo through his empire. Not for the first time does he long for the embrace of someone who isn't even real

#in my dreams (will you remember me?)#imd(wyrm)#flower husbands #empires smp fic

26 notes · View notes

cheysfishblog · 2 years

Text

*UPDATE* Swim Bladder Disorder in Fancy Goldfish: Focusing on Negative Buoyancy Disorder - An Experiment Part 1

My first blog focused on Swim Bladder Disorder in Fancy Goldfish, where I talked about Positive and Negative buoyancy disorder. I’m constantly learning new things about buoyancy disorder in goldfish and would like to share something that I have been trying for my male Oranda, who has negative buoyancy issues.

My male Oranda, Zulu, will be turning 3 on May 11, 2022, like my other previous fish, he is another fish that has swim bladder disorder.

Unlike my other two fish, Zulu has negative buoyancy disorder. He is seen bottom sitting at the tank for most of the time, his swimming is very awkward and he’s seen moving his body or swimming on his side to get around. He’s been going through this ever since he’s turned 2 years old, so a year and change now.

Also, unlike my other two fish, Zulu is special needs. He has a very weird appetite ( sometimes he wants to eat a lot, sometimes he eats a little), he’s a little slow when it comes to finding food too (poor baby XD), he’s a runt/stunted fish ( PetSmart's fault for this happening), and gets sick very easily ( well he used too)

I have upped my care ALOT for him for the betterment of his health, but the thing that has been a constant battle for him has been his buoyancy issues. At one point, I was going to give up and just leave him be, for I didn’t know what else to do, but then I decided to do a little more research.

In another blog that I have written, Let’s talk about the Wonder shell, I have recently purchased some and started messing with my water parameters more to try to see if I could tackle one more thing that has been a struggle to maintain in my tank, my GH parameters. I live in a state that is full of clay. Clay leaves NO MINERALS in your tap water, hence GH is low, water is acidic, and everything is unstable.

I have read that if you increase your GH ( mineral and hardness) in your water, one of the things it does is lessen stress on the swim bladder.

I decided to give it a try and use the Wonder shells in my tank.

I have tested my tank water daily ( it is going on 12 days now, tomorrow would be day 13 ) and I didn't notice any changes in my tank or in my fish until day 9. For Zulu, changes came on day 10.

For all three of my fish, I noticed that their slime coats have gotten thicker and healthier. When my GH was low, their slime coats were thin and the scales looked more exposed ( my fish are not sick, just observing a physical change), but I noticed the buildup in the slime coat with the addition of minerals.

The water in the tank is so clear it’s ridiculous. XD

Body injuries are healing faster and the overall body, scales, and fins look brighter and darker.

For Zulu, on day 10, he was swimming around like a normal fish. As if he wasn’t going through swim bladder issues at all.

The addition of minerals was decreasing his stress, but then, on DAY 11, I did a water change. After the water change, he went back to the bottom sitting. The mineral change ( or the lack thereof) definitely has something to do with the stress level on his bladder. Before I started this experiment, I also noticed he was acting a little better when the pH/KH lowered, therefore becoming more neutral instead of alkaline.

Here are my water parameters so far:

Nitrates: </= 20 ppm

Nitrites/ Ammonia: 0 ppm

GH: ~150 ppm ( for goldfish 150 is the minimum but the normal range is ~ 200 or more)

pH: 7.2 - 7.4

KH: 80 ppm

Chlorine: 0 mg / L

I also use a TDS meter:

325 ppm

691 uS/cm

22.4*C / 72.5*F

I am going to continue testing my water daily along with recording more or any changes that are happening. All my fish are benefiting from the wonder shells, but I want to note the consistency of it.

2 notes · View notes

askkrenko · 4 years

Text

Krenko’s Guide to Pokemon: Grimer Line

Every RPG has slimes. Pokemon is no exception. DESIGN: They’re slimes. Grimer and Muk are just blobs of purple goo with eyes, and you know what? That’s okay. They have some distinctions- Grimer’s upright and looks cheerier while Muk’s more fluid and more terrifying. Grimer has wide eyes and Muk has narrow ones, but mostly Muk is just big Grimer, but when you’re making a mostly amorphous sludge pile, that’s how you do it. It also has a lot in common with the classic ‘mud man’ enemy type.

There’s nothing overly novel about Grimer and Muk compared to other slime monsters in other stories, but this cements them as really feeling like “the” poison-type Pokemon. Sure, there’s lots of Poison types, but none of them feel as innately toxic and disgusting as Grimer and Muk.

Meanwhile, Alolan Grimer and Muk ARE something special.

Based less on generic toxic sludge and more specifically on oil slicks, Alolan Grimer and Muk add color. It’s just a bit for grimer, though I do love the way the little crystals give him silly looking teeth, but then Alolan Muk is clearly doing that oil-on-water color thing. Further, it’s got toxic crystals which while I don’t quite ‘get’ as far as why they’re there, they look cool and definitely make it a lot more menacing. Alolan Muk is one of the best Alolan forms for design, in that not only is it super cool but it only makes sense as a Pokemon because we’re so used to regular Muk. If Muk is the slime in every RPG, Alolan Muk is the alternate version of the slime that appears late game to take advantage of the fact that you think it’s just a slime. EVOLUTIONS: Both forms of Grimer are late bloomers, not evolving to Muk until level 38, which is honestly awful for their stats. Grimer’s on-par with a Starter Pokemon, but Muk’s weaker than a fully-evolved Starter even though it comes later. I understand the starters are supposed to have a bit of an edge for gameplay, but still. Grimer should evolve somewhere closer to 32, or Muk should be a bit heftier.

Art by Clinkorz, the Laser Necromancer

TYPING: Kantonian Muk is pure poison, which is a great defensive type but a poor offensive one. Poison resists five types and is weak to two, but by the same note, it’s only super effective against two, is resisted by four, and steel’s immune. Adding Dark to the mix on Alolan Muk is major upgrade. Offensively, it’s two more types to hit, with no type resisting both Dark and Poison, and defensively Poison and Dark cover most of each other’s weaknesses. Alolan Muk is only weak to Ground, is immune to psychic, and is still resistant to Poison, Ghost, Grass, and Dark. STATS: Muk’s stats are mostly good all around. It’s only real weakness is a low speed, but it’s 105 HP makes up for its slightly-below-average defense, and combines well with a 100 special defense. 105 Attack is also pretty hefty. Muk’s special attack is garbage, but who cares? It just means Muk won’t use special attacks. Both forms of Muk have the same stats.

Art by tatanRG

ABILITIES: Both forms of Muk have access to Poison Touch, which adds a 30% chance to poison the target on all contact moves. As Muk is a physical attacker, this means ‘basically all your attacks.’ It also stacks with attacks that already have a chance to poison by giving a second chance, so using Poison Jab with Poison Touch gives a 30% chance to poison twice, which brings it to about a 50% chance. This is an all around good ability as long as you’re swinging.

Kantonian Muk can get Stench, which gives a small chance to Flinch the opponent on every hit. The problem is, Flinching only works if you go first, and Muk is at least 30% molasses by volume.

Kantonian Muk’s other option is Sticky Hold, which prevents it from losing its item to Thief, Knock Off, Bug Bite, or whatever. Unless your strategy really demands it, there’s really no need for this over Poison Touch. Alolan Muk can get Gluttony to eat a berry early, which is fine for more HP. Alolan Muk has decent bulk, so landing in half rather than being one-shot is frequent, and a good berry is a decent heal on a Pokemon whose best stat is its HP. Alolan Muk’s unique ability, Power of Alchemy, only works in double battles. If your ally faints, Alolan Muk gains that ally’s ability if possible. It’s weird, and it’s got one very specific use: Giving Alolan Muk Levitate. Ground is its only weakness, so if you can give it Levitate, it’s a lot safer. Of course, this generally involves exploding your own Weezing or something like that, but still.

Art by JoshuaDunlop MOVES: Poison Jab or Gunk Shot. They’re both good. Gunk Shot is stronger overall, but the low accuracy can easily leave you high and dry. Further, Gunk Shot is ranged, while Poison Jab makes contact, so if you’re using Poison Touch, the answer is always Poison Jab. With another ability, Gunk Shot is more reasonable. Kantonian Muk gets a bit of coverage in moves like Rock Slide and Brick Break, as well as the elemental punches. Though nothing is supremely special, Muk has good attack and just having a variety of types to hit with opens up opportunity, and the fact that they’ll mostly benefit from Poison Touch is an added bonus.

If you want to breed a Muk for it, Curse is a great setup move and will help Muk spam Poison Jab for even more damage. Muk’s a physical attacker with garbage speed already, so it’s all gravy. To really go all-in, throw in Rest and Sleep Talk and your Muk isn’t going anywhere any time soon. Alolan Muk is also going to want a Dark attack in its lineup, and while Crunch has the most raw damage, the right answer’s generally going to be Knock Off to inhibit enemy strategies.

For additional strategy options, Muk can learn Shadow Sneak and Pursuit, and has the attack to make use of both. Pursuit is especially notable on Alolan Muk because why would a Ghost type or especially a Psychic type want to stay in against that? It’s only weak to Ground. You gotta switch. And when in doubt: Muk can learn Explosion and has enough Attack to make that sufficiently scary.

Shiny Alolan Muk by Dolcisprinkles OVERALL: Muk does pretty okay for itself, but Alolan Muk is honestly just better. There’s basically no reason to include Kantonian Muk on a team now that Alolan Muk exists. Muk has solid stats, good coverage, and a great ability in Sticky Hold, and Alolan Muk just has all that stuff but better resistances and a second line of STAB. Yes, the resistances are different and maybe you really want to throw Kantonian Muk in front of a Fighting type, but that’s a minor thing. I like Muk overall, and it’s a fine Pokemon with a cool design. Alolan Muk is a great Pokemon with a cooler design. It’s disappointing to see Stench on a Pokemon that can’t make use of it, but my only real strong complaint about Muk is that it gets way too many special attacks. Just so many. I know the poison type is mostly special, but the only physical attacks Kantonian Muk learns via level-up are Pound and Gunk Shot. This makes it really hard to use in a normal playthrough.

I guess I’m going on a bit of a tangent here, but with Pokemon there’s two basic views of them: how they are in the RPG and how they are in high-end battles. Here I mostly talked about Muk’s place in high-end battles, which is ‘decent,’ but its place in the RPG is actually really bad. Kantonian Grimer’s a really late bloomer for evolution, and it’s a physical attacker that starts with Pound and doesn’t get another physical attack (other than the basically useless Fling) until Gunk Shot at level 40 if you don’t use a TM. While this is all fixed in Alolan Grimer (it learns many Dark type physical attacks, plus Poison Fang in the intermediate levels), it still puts Kantonian Grimer at a place where if you catch a wild Grimer and start to use it it’s just going to be awful. And it’s not. Grimer’s a good pokemon and a worthy addition to a team. But only if you throw TMs at it. Look, I’m not expecting every Pokemon - or even ANY Pokemon- to have its optimal moveset with no TMs, no Tutors, and no Egg Moves, but I do expect every Pokemon to have a STAB move of the higher of its attack stats before it evolves. Oh, and you know how Poison Touch is Muk’s best ability? Not only is it a hidden ability, but Pound is literally the only Contact move Muk gets via level-up.

Art by Kaek

#Krenko's Pokemon Guide #Grimer #Muk #Alolan Grimer #Alolan Muk

25 notes · View notes

hello-im-not-a-possum · 4 years

Text

ATDT!AU Post-Escape Halloween thing 1-5 (or more)

The little town at the base of Mt. Ebott was practically buzzing with excitement. Normally, due to restrictions put on by an H.O.A that feared and hated Halloween as “The Devil’s Birthday”, Halloween parties were rarely held unless they were in secret and at home. A lot of normal people in town were delightfully surprised that the power-tripping harpies in charge didn’t try to ban trick-or-treating or house decorating altogether but the townsfolk were often muffed at the strict rules surrounding it: “Trick-or-treating starts at 6:30 and ends at 7:00″, “Any house that puts up decorations before Oct. 28th and or leaves its decorations up after Nov. 3rd will receive a fine”, “All Outdoor Halloween decorations must be 5′ tall or shorter”. And other such ridiculous rules were put in place to shackle Halloween to the ground.

But what made this year so different? This year, Mettaton and Sammy Lawrence were holding what could only be described as the BIGGEST Halloween party/Haunted mansion romp in the history of humans, monsters, and toons. And thanks to the co-stars’ charisma, Mettaton hiring a really good lawyer, and the currently dominant half of Sammy being too darn spiteful to be contained by mortal means, the H.O.A. was completely powerless to stop them.

However, it didn’t stop them from trying anyway. This week, Linda Simmons (Not to be confused with Linda Stein, who is a lovely lady and an excellent member of society but is not human in the slightest.) Was the one to march up to the monstrosity of a haunted mansion in progress to demand to speak to the pair.

She clutched the cross on her necklace tightly in her hands as she saw the mansion in all its ‘unholy’ glory. As per Mettaton’s usual ‘go big or go home’ approach to his work, the damned thing looked like something out of someone’s nightmares! The mansion itself looked like an old-fashioned but normal one but the “Decorations”? Large patches of fleshy growths scattered all over and presumably within the mansion, giant human-like bones and organs growing in and around the area, thick black fluid being pumped into the monstrosity, and god knows what else!

Linda felt sick to her stomach when she walked up the thing, almost swearing that she saw the flesh patches writhing, as well as the bloodshot eyes embedded into the outside walls staring directly at her. In her other hand, she held a copy of the H.O.A.’s very strict rule book, clutching onto it as if it were a bible. She took a deep breath in, and pounded on the door.

“Just give me five minutes Darling!✨”

The mechanical menace whom she once adored on television before meeting him face-to-face oh too cheerfully responded over the sound of a roaring chainsaw and nails being pounded into wood on the other side of the door. After an exact five minutes had passed (she checked her watch between impatiently knocking on the door and tapping her foot on the ground), she was greeted with a giant calculator-like robot wearing a spiffy Halloween-themed suit complete with a tie with a bat pattern on it.

“Why Linda, how nice of you to drop by!”

She frowned at the superstar machine.

“Mettaton, are you aware that you’re violating the H.O.A. rules regarding Halloween decorations?! And what on earth are you two thinking holding a Halloween party here?! Do you have any idea how many noise complaints you’ll get?! The fine you’ll get is-”

“SShhhhhh”

Mettaton put his finger against her lips and Linda crossed her arms in frustration as he continued to draw out that ‘shush’ noise. His other arm extended into the room behind him and retracted with a large pile of papers in hand. He stopped shushing when the papers where in her face. She internally groaned at the sight of them, she hated it when people found loopholes.

“As you can see here, here, here, here, here, here, and here... Everything we’re going is completely within the H.O.A. rules and regulations.”

“What the?!” Her eye twitched, her face turned red, and after skimming through Mettaton’s papers, she spoke through gritted teeth “Okay, so your decorations are Technically allowed... But only because nobody would ever think that we’d have to make a rule against animating MEAT with black magic to make Halloween decorations... But what about the party itself?! And the noise?!”

While Mettaton did not have eyes at the moment, Linda could feel him rolling them at her.

“The ‘Party’ you claim we’re throwing is actually a charity ball that happens to have a Halloween theme to it, which as you can see under this section right here, IS allowed.”

She raised an eyebrow at the robot.

“What type of charity?”

The lights cut out, all replaced with a single spotlight on Mettaton, who was now dramatically draped over a piano while a sad melody on a violin began to play and white rose petals started to fall on him.

“A great tragedy had fallen on thousands upon thousands of innocent lives... Men, women, and even small children stripped from their homes, from their friends and families and all brutally slaughtered! And after death? Their souls broken, and forcefully fused together within a prison of vile ink made by a cruel man who cared not that he was turning nightmares into reality, as long as it meant his dreams come true... These restless souls have finally been freed from their devilish tormentor, and had grown attached to this world, no longer humans, but not quite monsters either. These people are lonely, confused and scared in a new modern world that while offers them new chances and opportunities, is a strange and foreign place that overwhelms them to the point where they want to go back. As having a familiar yet horrible home can be more welcoming than an unknown yet kind home at times. We’re raising money and awareness to help these poor people get back on their feet.”

Linda bit her lip and rolled her eyes at Mettaton’s overly sappy and over-dramatic speech, she knew that the “people” he was referring to were most likely those strange, hyper, 2-D creatures and or those disgusting, smelly, ink things that took up residence inside Mt. Ebott after all of the regular monsters came up here.

“And what about noise complaints?”

The lights flicked back on and Mettaton threw himself off the piano in annoyance.

“Well, Sammy and I are constructing sound proof walls as we speak, so when the building is properly complete, there wont be a thing to worry about.”

Linda threw her head back laughing.

“Sammy is helping build them? Sammy Lawrence? That weird giant slug thing with the creepy mask? What does he do? Ooze on the wood that needs to be nailed up?”

“You can always ask him what he does yourself, Darling!” He pushed her down the hall and into the next room before slamming the door behind him while she stayed on the other side. “He loves to answer questions!”

“Hey! Don’t just shove me in here with that disgusting mass of slime! I don’t care if you’re a celebrity or not, I can have you arrested and- Oh sweet Jesus, Mary and Joseph...”

“Have a Banana, Hannah, Try the salami, Tommy, Get with the gravy, Davey, Everybody eats when they come to my house.”

While she was pounding on the door, she looked back just to make sure that the creature Mettaton often worked with wasn’t about to pounce on her and gnaw her limbs off, but instead of a giant black slug that had arms and reeked of spoiled meat and moldy art supplies, she was starring at a human being. And he was the most beautiful man she had ever seen in person.

“Try a tomato, Plato, Here’s cacciatore, Dorie, Taste the baloney, Tony, Everybody eats when they come to my house!”

The man was tall and broad, his skin was clean-shaven, on the paler side and had healed claw marks all over it, he wasn’t wearing a shirt at all (A fact which Linda was very thankful for.) which revealed that he had a large, strange tattoo on his back, and he had dirty-blond hair that was so long that it was only stopped from dragging on the floor thanks to the braid it was in.

“I fix your favorite dishes, Hopin’ this good food fills ya! Work my hands to the bone in the kitchen alone, You better eat if it kills ya!”

He had his back turned to her, singing to himself and clearly very focused on the task in front of him, but she happily watched his every move in awed silence. In addition to his body, the man also had a lovely singing voice.

“Pass me a winda, Linda,” he gestured behind him. “In all seriousness, if you could pass me that window pane behind you, that would be great.”

“Oh!”

Linda snapped up and instantly scrambled for the window he had gestured to.

“Thank you, that’ll do.”

The head of the PTA and member of the H.O.A. stared intensely at him, taking in every single detail of his front. From his black pants to his washboard abs- until he gently tilted her head up so that she was looking at the man’s face.

“You know,” He said teasingly with a wink. “My eyes are up here.”

His sharp-featured face that only had one long claw mark on it as opposed to the rest of his body, his bright white smile that she couldn’t find a single flaw in, and his eyes, his deep, dark brown eyes that just made her melt by looking at them. Oh sweet lord, this man was so far out of her league that she honest to god thought he was blind to be flirting with her.

“I’m so sorry sir!”

Linda blushed redder than a jar of tomato sauce and looked away altogether, trying to fruitlessly cobble together an explanation.

“MettatonpushedmeinheretospeakwithSammyLawrencebutyouwerehereinsteadandyouhaveareallyprettyvoiceandimsosorry-”

“Wait, Mettaton sent you in?”

“Y-yes..?”

“And you’re looking for Sammy?”

“Yes?”

“Well why didn’t you say so sooner? What do you want to speak with me about?”

She went from bright red to white as a sheet as soon as that sentence left his mouth. Now that she thought about it, didn’t the local news channel say that the ink creatures could shape-shift? Oh god, this man was that gross slimy creature... The gross slimy creature that she kicked in the face with her high heels the second she saw it in person...

“N-nothing!”

She then ran out of the house as fast as her legs could carry her, jumped into her car, slammed down the breaks and sped as far away as she could. Once she was possibly miles away from everyone, she buried her face into the car horn and screamed.

Back at the haunted mansion, Sammy let out a long held sigh of relief.

“Thank fucking God she’s finally gone, just listening to that harpy’s voice makes me want to bash my head in against a wall.”

“Oh my...” The robot star half-dejectedly mused. “And here I thought the winds of romance would turn her cold, dead heart.”

“Mettaton, my standards might be rock bottom, but they’re not in the mariana trench.”

#ATDT AU #bendy and the ink machine #undertale #deltarune #mettaton #pta linda #sammy lawrence #fanfic #edited

8 notes · View notes

tiraviarp · 3 years

Text

The Reforging of Summer Halusyn

((WARNING for body horror-esque writing in the beginning of this story. Please skip to the dark line below if you’re sensitive to uncanny body descriptions!

A clean version of this story can be found here.))

25th Sun of the Third Umbral Moon

For the first time in six years, ‘Summer’ Halusyn couldn’t stop staring at his chest.

It was odd; the skin was still the same, even worse in some respects. Sickeningly pale, a shade of off-white that spoke of how it’d been hidden from light for so long, and heavily mottled by the crush injury he’d sustained all those years ago. In some areas, the mottling was light enough to show the old surgical scars that came after the injury, when the resource-starved chirurgeons of Little Ala Mhigo did all they could to save his life. And save his life, they did – but in return, they gave him a fatal weakness, a flaw that left him wondering every day for six years if that would be the day he died. He had become painfully fragile despite the appearance he put on: a musclebound Roegadyn who always wore dark armor, who never showed his eyes, and who was as stoic and stoic came.

Now, however, a new set of scars were joining the old constellation on his chest. The cuts made by Seras’ skillful hand were straight and precise, and only as big as they needed to be for the operation. Even only a few days later, they were healing so well that may eventually lose sight of them.

But even if he ever lost track of them, the proof of Seras’ and Sanura’s work lived with him. The feeling was unsettling: something hard under his skin that felt like it was constricting him from the inside, something that moved with him as he breathed, something that felt so foreign and not him. His mind wanted to interpret it as cold and covered in slime and liquid, even though he couldn’t feel chill radiating off of it and freezing him from the inside out; nor did it feel like his organs were slipping and sliding around it. When he put his hand on his chest, where the damaged skin was taut and learning to stretch over it, he felt the pain of distant impact.

Was this something everyone with ribs felt, but their minds forced them to ignore? It was so much different than the corset-like brace he’d been wearing for the past six years, the poor substitute for the ribs he’d lost. Sanura said that the prosthetic ribcage she’d made would feel different at first, but that it would eventually become just another part of him. Would he eventually grow blind to this alien feeling?

He hoped so. If he did, he could forget that his trip to Thanalan ever happened, and could forget the fear of death he’d lived through every day since. Maybe he’d even grow used to seeing his chest, seeing it as something normal instead of something to detest or, currently, be marveled at. But that was something for another day: right now, his job was to relax, recover, and gradually rebuild his strength and energy.

________________________________________________________________

For the duration of his recovery, he’d been shipped back to his childhood home in Aleport. As much as he detested the city, Summer couldn’t think of a better place to be. Surrounded by family that helped him fulfil his daily needs, in a private space where he wasn’t exposed to outside people. Best of all, it was near the ocean; the orchestrion roll of ambient wave sounds he’d gotten for his house in Hyrstmill did its best to mimic the sound he fell asleep to best, but nothing could compare to the real deal. It was a combination of everything that helped him relax and let the drugs Seras had prescribed him help him heal.

It was one such afternoon when there was a disturbance in this perfection. Basking in the warmth radiating from the wooden window covers, Summer lay in his bed, staring at his bare chest and listening to some show that was being broadcast over a public linkpearl. He knew that his pain medication and the sound of the waves would soon pull him back into slumber; in fact, he could feel his eyelids growing heavy, his mind fogging up and slowing down.

And just when he was on the edge of sleep, the voice over the linkpearl suddenly distorted, and a chill descended over his room.

There was someone – or something – in the room.

Despite his ineptitude at anything related to aether, Summer could feel it – what seemed like a dearth of energy just a few yalms away from his bed. Whatever was in its place was something stagnant and empty, suffocating even. For perhaps the first time ‘awakening’ in the basement of the Onsen, he could feel the currents of aether shifting, dragging, pulling, cycling around him: the natural aether inside his bedroom was being pulled into that void of air, and something…slightly off was flowing out of it. With every breath he took, he could almost feel the changed aether entering his lungs, bypassing the protection of his newly-installed ribs.

He was in no position to defend himself from whatever that hungry stagnation was. Where was Bryn? He surely wouldn’t have let this thing in, and if it’d naturally generated in his room, surely, he would’ve sensed it? He was the more aether-sensitive of the two of them, owing to his training at the Arcanist’s Guild. But yet he heard no pounding footsteps indicating his arrival, no voices that would show him to be nearby…Nothing but the birdsong outside his bolted-shut window and the chatter of sailors drinking after dark.

He tried to shout, but all that came out was a feeble whimper. As if in response, the void drew nearer and nearer, drawing in more and more ambient aether and spitting it back out changed. Was he just being paranoid, or was he feeling his own aether draining from him as well?

Summer could feel himself trembling. His too big, too blocky hands gripped at his sheets, as if he’d be able to pull himself up, defend himself, run away. The rational part of his brain that told him it was futile, dangerous even, to try it at all was shoved into the back of his mind as he struggled to form words with his dry mouth.

“S…Stop…”

To his surprise, the stagnation ceased its advance. And then, to his even bigger surprise, someone spoke:

“Oh! I am šorry. Did I rouše you? Þleaše, re†urn †o šleeþ.”

Whatever that void was, it turned familiar words unfamiliar. Wait, no, they weren’t entirely unfamiliar – as his sluggish mind turned over the words, it took a few moments to connect, but…those clicks and pops interspersed in his words sounded like huntspeak. He hardly had any practice with speaking huntspeak, let along hearing it, but his few sessions with Father taught him to recognize those sounds.

Which meant…

Fighting back against that urge to defend or flee from the suffocation, he willed his drug-heavy eyelids open.

Slowly, his childhood bedroom came into view, and through squinted eyes he could see the form of a Miqo’te standing near his desk chair. Standing was a generous term, however: the man looked frail enough to collapse if he wasn’t leaning on his oaken cane, and even then, his legs were shaking fiercely. Despite the man’s small stature and stunted tail, he got the distinct feeling that he was older than him. White-pink hair and pallid skin blended in the with white stone walls and brown wood flooring, the only differentiator being his vivid bright green eyes and turquoise robes. In his free hand was a small bag made of simple undyed cloth.

But where was the void that was still draining the aether around him? There were no sprites, no elemental anomalies he could see. The man was, in fact, standing right where he could feel the void.

What is going on…?

His confusion must have been written all over his face, because the Miqo’te man gave him a thin smile. “I did no† mean †o diš†urb you. Your bro†her, Rhylbryn, †old me †ha† you were šleeþing, and I believed i† would be †he beš† †ime †o gif† you šome†hing.” The longer he spoke, the weaker, the airier the man’s voice became, as if speaking were taxing to him.

“…Gift…?” Summer managed with his hoarse throat. He needed water. Briefly, his eyes left the man to look at the small cup of water placed on his bedside table sometime during his sleep. The man seemed to get the idea, stepping away to retrieve the cup. But as soon as he drew near once more, the stagnation pulled at him further, and the bedbound man grimaced. His fingers twitched for a few moments before he mustered the strength to raise his arm an ilm above the bed.

“…You šhould no† be moving your armš. †ha† would þull on your ©heš†, yeš? I† needš †o mend, and you would no† be able †o hold †hiš ©uþ’š weigh†,” the man advised. “Þleaše, le† me helþ you.”

Summer could tell he was right. Already, he could feel the chest muscles attached to his shoulder burning, already in anguish from the surgery and not tolerating the additional strain. But, if the man came closer, his own aether would…

“…A…aether…” he forced out. “Y-You…”

The Miqo’te frowned, glancing away from him for a moment. “I am aware of my þrešen©e and †he diš©omfor† i† ©an ©auše, yeš. However, I am only here briefly. I will enšure you are no† ruined.”

Summer’s brows furrowed. “…W-Why…?”

“†o exþlain why in de†ail would †ake more †ime †han we ©an afford, given your heal†h. Þleaše, †ruš† me. Rhylbryn aþþroved me †o viši†you, and he iš a grea† judge of heal†h.”

He did…? Then Bryn felt this man’s seeping stagnation and felt it was okay? It was true that his twin was strangely good at perceiving the health of someone, everything from if they were about to come down with sickness to if they’d recently suffered a scratch. It was something that would be a great boon to him when he’d go on to learn at the Conjurer’s Guild eventually. The Miqo’te’s words implied that even though he was feeling strange when he drew near, no warm would come to him yet. Yet there was an innate sense of wrongness to the man, his mind screaming at him that his presence was unnatural and he needed to flee. Bryn was a cautious man when it came to others’ health. Was there something he was missing?

“Þleaše, Rhylšoemr. I know wha† my body iš, and have learned how beš† †o avoid ruining o†herš. I† iš imþor†an† †ha† you drink, and I am here †o helþ you,” the sickly Miqo’te implored.

The muscles holding Summer’s too wide arm gave out, and his hand hardly made a sound when it hit the sheets. Sucking in a breath and squeezing his eyes shut, he nodded slowly.

Now blind, all he could feel was that sickening void drawing closer and closer to him. And as the distance between them decreased, he forced himself to breathe in the unnatural aether, forced himself to not think about how it felt like his own aether was being drained into the black hole of the man…

He couldn’t breathe.

It’s going to be okay.

He was getting lightheaded.

It’s going to be okay. Bryn trusts him.

He felt like he was going to throw up.

It’s going to be okay. Bryn trusts him. It’ll be over soon-

The rim of the cup touched his lips, and soon after, lukewarm water wet his parched lips. All thoughts of paranoia were swept away as he greedily sucked down the water, the Miqo’te aiding him by adjusting the tilt of the cup. Much sooner than he would’ve liked, the flow went dry, and before the man left-

“Glasses,” Summer rasped. “…On the table.”

The Miqo’te made a hum of affirmation, and soon, he felt the cool frame of his blackout sunglasses rest on his face. And then, the stagnation made a hasty retreat back to the desk chair.

This time, it wasn’t as hard to open his eyes. Now shaded in gray, the bedroom’s bright white walls were easier on his light-sensitive eyes, and the man stood out somewhat better against them now. He was seated on the desk chair, watching him carefully. His cane was laid out across the desk. “I am šorry for †he diš©omfor†. How iš your head? Are you feeling ši©k?”

Summer slowly nodded, opting to save his voice for more important things. The pallid Miqo’te returned the nod with a sad look. “I† šhall fade šoon. My þrešen©e iš diš†reššing †o moš† Eorzeanš, bu† ešþe©ially †o †hoše no† in well heal†h. Your life energy iš adjuš†ing and re©overing af†er your þro©edure, and wind uþše†š fire o†herwiše.”

He could understand that his aether was in disarray following the surgery, but…wind and fire? What is he talking about…? This was a man who seemed to talk vaguely and oddly, but he spoke with so much familiarity about Bryn and his own current condition…

Until he could learn more, he was going to play it safe. It took him a moment to bring remember how to speak with his old accent. “Who are ye…?” Summer asked.

“I am Þahfu, Warden’s Word and †ia of R †ribe,” the Miqo’te answered easily, seemingly unaware of how the bedbound man’s heart skipped a beat. “Your þeoþle named uš ©liffwalker, and we have adoþ†ed †ha† name for eaše.”

This was R’pahfu? The last child born on Cliffwalker land, and their only Warden’s Word? Summer had heard of him before, had wanted to meet him for two years now, yet their lives took two different paths. Summer’s took him to the Twelveswood, where R’pahfu reportedly couldn’t go, and R’pahfu traveled to Thanalan, which, well…Maybe he’d be able to visit now, once he was recovered. Not that it mattered much, because apparently R’pahfu’s mere presence was poisonous to him, somehow.

Amidst Summer’s stunned silence, R’pahfu continued to speak. “I heard from your bro†her †ha† you had šome šor† šurgery done, and wišhed †o helþ your re©overy. I knew I would no† be able †o š†ay for long, bu†…” He sighed softly. “I will only be able †o leave your gif† wi†h you. †o enhan©e i†š þower ©ould be dangerouš †o your þoši†ion.”

Summer watched as R’pahfu set his little bag on the desk and undid the knot at the top. With delicacy and near-reverence, the pallid man’s shaking hands withdrew a few gemstones one-by-one, placing them in a matrix on the table.

Summer squinted, fighting to keep his eyes open. The pain medication was doing its job, but he didn’t want to fall asleep now. One of the gemstones looked familiar. “Is that…malachite?”

R’pahfu looked up from organizing the gemstones in the matrix, giving him a sunny smile. “I† is. Do you know of our healing þra©†i©eš, Rhylšoemr?”

Summer thought back to his childhood, when he continuously pestered Father for information and stories from his sept. He remembered quite a few stories where those afflicted by pain and disease were attended to Words like R’pahfu, who would combine traditional medicines, aetheric power drawn from the land, and a variety of gemstones to aid in their recovery. Traditional medicines and aetheric healing were familiar to him by now, but gemstones…Well, they were set out around the house, and Father always carried them with him in his pockets, but he knew nothing else. “I know that each gemstone has its own unique effects on people, and ye use them t’ ‘eal people,” is what he eventually answered.

“†ha† iš †rue, yeš,” R’pahfu replied, turning back to the gemstones. Carefully, he picked up the small piece of tumbled green gemstone, holding it up to ceiling light to let it glimmer. “Bu† i† iš more ©omþli©a†ed †han †ha†, aš you may imagine. †o be a Word, you muš† know ea©h gemš†one in†ima†ely – o†herwiše, you may rišk your þa†ien†’š heal†h. Mala©hi†e, for inš†an©e, helþš a þa†ien†’š boneš heal, bu† i† muš† never be þla©ed on †he þa†ien†’š body wi†hou† a medium be†ween i† and †he škin. If i† iš þla©ed dire©†ly on †he škin, or drank aš a þo†ion, i† will þoišon †hem.”

Summer looked to the closet in the corner of his room with a wince, where his malachite earrings rested in a small jewelry box. Hopefully the silver earring loop was a suitable medium.

“†herefore, I have †old Halu and your family †ha† when †hey †rea† you wi†h †hiš, †hey †o ei†her keeþ i† away from your škin, or are †o þla©e i† a†oþ a þie©e of ©lo†h firš†. In addi†ion †o remedying your boneš, i† will invi†e †he energy of †he land †o aid you, guard againš† ex©eššive noiše †ha† will harm you –“ his eyes briefly stray to the bolted-shut window, “– and will helþ your mind re©on©ile your ©hanging ši†ua†ion…in †hiš ©aše, your þoš†-šurgery reš†.”

“I…didn’t realize one stone could do so much.” Looking away from the glinting malachite, Summer’s eyes fell upon the other gemstones lying on the table. “What do the others do, then?”

R’pahfu’s eyes twinkled. Carefully setting the malachite in the matrix once more, he gestured to the stone closest to him: a raw yellow-green stone that barely reflected light at all. “†hiš iš a varie†y of garne† †ha† will allevia†e any išola†ion you may feel during your re©overy. I hear you will be in bed for qui†e šome †ime, and I would ha†e †o šee you feel lonely. Þerhaþš šome of your neighborš will feel drawn by i†š þrešen©e and will ©ome †o viši† you?”

It was very hard for Summer to keep himself from grimacing. Receiving neighbors as visitors would be one of the worst things that could happen. Instead, he forced a tiny smile, ignoring the headache beginning to form in his forehead. “Will it draw me friends?”

“Of course,” R’pahfu said with a matching smile. His finger rested gently on the next stone, a green gemstone similar in shade to the malachite. “†hiš iš jadei†e. Like mala©hi†e, i† will en©ourage †he ©onne©†ion be†ween your boneš and your þroš†he†i©š. I† šerveš †o rebind †he škele†al šyš†em, and I hoþe i† will re©ognize your þroš†he†i© aš þar† of your body.”

Summer hummed, but didn’t comment. R’pahfu moved on to the next stone: opaque and as bright and varied in yellow hues as Azeyma. “Amber iš †he moš† þowerful ‘š†one’ for healing †he body. Over †he ©ourše of hiš†ory, i† haš abšorbed †he life energy þrovided by Azemya, †aking †he form favored by †i†an †o rešerve †hiš energy for fu†ure uše. Unlike mala©hi†e, i† may be þla©ed on your ©heš† †o þromo†e †he healing wi†hin, aš well aš draw þain away from you.”

“Really…? What if there’s a bug trapped inside of it?”

“†hen i†š life energy iš abšorbed in†o †he amber en©ašing i†, and i†š þo†en©y iš in©reašed. I did no† know if you were š©ared of inše©†š, šo I brough† a š†andard amber juš† in ©aše.”

“’ow...considerate.” R’pahfu’s aether may be unhealthy and terrifying, and his headache was pulsing in time with the aether currents flowing and out of the Miqo’te’s body , but the man himself was quite nice. It was a shame he couldn’t stay here for long.

Speaking of the man’s imminent deparature, R’pahfu moved onto the final gemstone: a raw blocky piece of what almost looked like solidified sunset light. “And finally…gold †oþaz. No† only will i† helþ you relax and find þea©e, bu† i† šþe©ifi©ally helþed þoš†-oþera†ive þa†ien†š re©over and re-energize †hemšelveš.” He winked.

Summer, for his part, blinked. Was it all the technicalities and specifics making him dizzy, or was it R’pahfu’s mere presence…? “G-Gemstones can get that specific…?”

“Oh, yeš! In fa©†, †he mala©hi†e I am gif†ing you would helþ your mo†her if šhe were of ©hild-bearing age by redu©ing any diš©omfor† from ©ramþš or ©y©le iššueš šhe would fa©e. †he amber would alšo redu©e †ee†hing þain in any ©hildren you have.”

“…Huh.” This time, when he blinked, his eyes almost refused to open again.

R’pahfu must have noticed it, because he chuckled. “Your body iš †elling you †o reš†; i† haš good †iming, be©auše I šhould exi† aš well.” Reaching for his cane, the man slowly pushed himself to his feet. Almost immediately, his legs began shaking once more, causing him to grimace. “…I šhall have †o go reš†, †oo. Þleaše reš† well, Rhylšoemr.”

“W-Wait.”

R’pahfu’s hand had been resting on the doorknob when Summer called out to him, and he slowly turned back to the bedbound man. “Yeš?”

Summer’s head was pounding, his mind dizzy and tired, and his eyelids heavy, but he had to ask. “…D-Did…you ever want to…meet R’thipra?”

To his surprise, the pallid Miqo’te nodded almost immediately. “I do. Af†er all, he iš family – even if he were no† raišed on our an©eš†ral land. However…I am no† allowed in †he †welvešwood ex©eþ† under ©er†ain ©ir©umš†an©eš. I imagine you ©an †hink of why?”

Summer’s heart leapt. R’pahfu considered R’thipra family, even though he hadn’t met him? A happy trill nearly escaped him, but he swallowed it down at the last second. Finally, he’d been validated!

But…there was also a void of doubt left where his heart soared. Did that mean that R’pahfu didn’t consider Summer family…? How was he to be happy if only one of them were considered family?

Oblivious to his turmoil, R’pahfu continued to speak. “I alšo hear he haš an averšion †o †hanalan and †hiš land. I would no† will him †o †ormen† himšelf merely †o mee† wi†h me. Þerhaþš we ©an find neu†ral ground be†ween uš. May I ašk for your helþ when you are re©overed, Rhylšoemr?”

So stuck in his thoughts was he that he nearly missed the Miqo’te’s request. “O-Of course,” Summer stammered. “I-I can try…writing him. He wants to meet you, too.” Distantly, he was aware that his accent was slipping, but between R’pahfu’s aether and the drugs in his system, it was hard enough speaking his thoughts.

The smile the man sent him, despite being thin and tired, was one of the warmest Summer had ever received. “†hen we šhall be in ©on†a©†. Re©over well, Rhylšoemr.”

And by the time the door to his bedroom closed, Summer was already asleep, dark thoughts banished by the warmth of his smile and the aura of good-will.

#ffxiv #ffxiv rp #r'thipra tia #r'pahfu tia #ffxiv cliffwalker #story

1 note · View note

nothingofvaluewaslost · 3 years

Text

STORY: The Princess and the Snake-Leaves

A short story based on the Grimms’ fairy tale The Three Snake-Leaves, expanding on the story from the antagonist’s perspective. Princess Gertrude wakes up in a crypt after her husband Gabriel, who was buried alive with her body, miraculously found a leaf that resurrected her. They are restored to the world above ground, but the harmony is soured when they cannot decide what to do with this new cure for death, eventually driving Gertrude to desperate thoughts.

Dark fantasy. No objectionable content.

The Princess and the Snake-Leaves, by Christina Nordlander

No-one else in our age can tell the story of her death, so let me begin from that moment.

I say that I can tell, but when it comes to it I do not remember. If my soul were somewhere else during the interval of darkness, whether in Hell or Purgatory, I have no memories from there. The only difference from sleep was that it took much longer to wake, as if I were sunk many thousand fathoms beneath a nocturnal sea and had to let myself float upwards. If it were not impossible, I would say that it required years.

There was light, flickering firelight, but it felt as though it took several hours before I could see anything by it. By that time I had regained enough of my old spirit to be able to be impatient; I would have wanted to claw my way up through the swathes of darkness. That was not the only thing driving me. Some memories had returned, and I realised where I must be.

I saw Gabriel stand bent over me. He held a tallow-candle, and its light served only to show his head, as if it shed its own light: his golden hair, his face like that of a boy early coarsened under his martial beard. He had a large tangle of dirt in the hair on the side of his head, and the whites of his eyes were tinted red as if he had been weeping. As I watched, they glistened with new tears.

“Gertrude,” he whispered. “Can you speak? Say something, if you are awake.”

The candle-flame quivered in his grasp.

I flinched when he touched me: not from revulsion, but because my skin in the first moments was as sensitive as though it had just grown on me and could hardly bear the touch of my garment. The movement dislodged something, and I had a sudden stiff pain that cut into the sides of my throat. I coughed and the pain began to give, but whatever it was instead filled my mouth so that I could not breathe. Gabriel, who had not taken his eyes from my face even when embracing me, saw it and fished it out of my mouth. It looked like just a dry hard leaf, of which tree I could not tell. He put it on his person even though it was still covered with slime.

He said:

“I put it in your mouth... for the consumption.... You were dead.”

It was several days before he told me everything. Just then I understood so few of his words that my senses might still have been clouded by the dark.

Now, when I could speak, I did not find the words. The light was poor and the dark outside thick. I could feel the damp-sweating cold of a stone wall, but for all I could see it might have continued upwards for many leagues. The white garment around me was not a gown but a winding-sheet. What was more, over the odours of candle tallow and my husband's hair and skin, I felt the smell that the soul abhors, and when Gabriel raised the candle I saw sarcophagi and corroded name-plates. I had never before been in the charnel-house of my fathers.

“I'll call for help,” Gabriel said and turned to the door, which was armoured with brass plates. “Lie still.”

He spoke as though he thought that I were still weak, but where I lay I felt my strength returning. I could not remember when my lungs had last been so empty and dry and opened so large. The last months they had stitched up with phlegm until every breath was like lifting some heavy object, until I was weary with the difficulty of dying. He had sat by my bed and I had not looked at him, because I had known that my death would doom him. When the end approached and the pain began to depart I knew that I ought to have tried to hold on to life, to give him more time.

Gabriel beat on the vault door with his free hand and called, then took a pewter plate and used it to strike. Between the periods of blows he turned to smile at me, his hair curling in his forehead with sweat.

“If you hadn't demanded that of me, this miracle couldn't have happened,” he said. “You would have been dead still. I would have lost you.”

I could not yet take it in in any way. Steps clattered out in the passage, then we heard the guard's voice:

“Stop, Your Highness must stand by your choice. Don't make this harder for us.”

Not until then could I bring myself to speak:

“But I'm alive! Open the vault!”

I did not know whether it was strong enough to be heard outside, and I had half sat up to go to the door, but then I heard a yelling outside, then the stone-dry scraping of the lock.

What is gained by telling with what emotion my Father and Mother embraced me, still in my winding-sheet, when any who have lost a kinsman can imagine it? What is gained by telling how they honoured Gabriel, more than when he had come to court from the battlefield where he had taken up the standard when the Ensign fell and held it against all attackers? It was at that time my Father asked him what he most desired, and he had been engaged to marry me. What is gained by telling how Gabriel and I felt the warmth of the sun again and the scent of grass?

It is not of that which my story treats.

Gabriel told me in few words. He, the soldier who had not faltered on the battlefield, did not want to return in memory to the vault for longer than he was required.

After the reading of the funeral service they had carried my corpse down to the charnel-house, and he had stayed in obedience to his vow when they locked the vault. Guards had kept their eyes on him in the chapel, and other guards had stood by the castle gates. He would not have been able to break his vow. When they locked him in they gave him a pitcher of small beer and a loaf of bread. That would last for three or four days, if you overcame nature and only ate what you needed to stay alive, but on the fourth day he would have felt the first beginnings of hunger. The candle would have guttered out by then.

Apart from his provisions he had a fire-steel, and a trestle-table and chair. He did not say how long he had been sitting there when he had heard a rustling, and a long snake had slithered out from a crack in the wall. It had been about to attack him, or start gnawing me, but Gabriel had his sabre with him and chopped it into three pieces.

A while later a second snake slid out of the crack. I do not know why he did not attack it. It carried a dry leaf in its mouth and laid it between two of the sliced-off pieces. He looked on as it returned with a new leaf and laid it in the second cut. He waited, he did not know how long, but he must have guessed that something was about to happen.

Then the snake healed together. That he described in more detail than any other thing that had happened since my death.

“All the pieces twitched, like when I chopped it off,” he said. “A twining movement came in them, as it were, so that I could not see them clearly, and when it grew still it was whole again. The tongue moved in its mouth. It looked around and darted back after its mate.”

He had struggled to hew the crack larger. It had left notches in his sabre and given him an ache in his shoulder that had not yet healed, but now he had a goal. On the other side he had found a nest of leaves.

“I put one down your throat,” he said, without looking straight at me. “I thought it might be able to get to your lungs.”

That was where his tale fitted with my memory.

I wrote down what I remembered of my life before the interval, to be certain that there were no gaps. I wrote of how I had been taught to trace the letters by my schoolmistress, Mistress Sapientissima, who had let me sit for long hours and write nonsense syllables, ca, ce, ci, while the sun shone outside the schoolroom windows. I wrote of the first time I was allowed to walk alone in the castle, when I had got lost and realised that the silent and mirroring halls were an image of death, and of the moment when I coughed up thready phlegm and the physician turned his face from me and hesitated before saying what it was. I wrote of when Gabriel asked for my hand. He was taciturn and hardly older than I, and at the time I thought he was fair – but what was distinctive in his appearance faded as the murk in his eyes cleared, the murk of gunpowder-smoke and reeking puddles of blood.

He was not my first suitor: I had had to sit on stiff chairs facing princes and dukes since I was so young that I thought it was a kind of dull game. For the ones my Father accepted, I stated my requirement: that if I died before my husband he would be buried alive with me, and if the opposite happened I would go quick in his tomb. I said that it was fair; that if he loved me he would not want to survive me. I do not think that I expected that my husband might die first. If I had thought that it might fall on me, I might not have made the requirement. I was afraid of dying. (I no longer am.)

I had thought that if I found a suitor with whom I felt some affinity, I would not tell him my requirement. Now I never had the occasion, because Gabriel said yes. He hesitated when he did, but I admired him the more for it.

When I lay in the grip of the illness I should have released him from his vow. I cannot remember whether the thought occurred to me. You who read this should know: I am not a good woman.

There are some things I do not remember. I do not remember how the snake-leaf tasted, but that is understandable if I was dead when he placed it in my mouth. I often imagine that it tasted fresh, like the mint or lemon-balm I used to chew in my herbal garden, as fresh as if it had never grown from the dirt in the soil.

I cannot remember whether I loved him.

This is the reason I started writing down my memories: I remember as much of my life as anyone, but the memories do not feel like mine. They might have been memories of something I have read in a book. I suppose that it is understandable. If I have indeed been dead, I am a different woman now.

Gabriel said that I was more beautiful since I awoke, but he had said that I was beautiful before. I do not like to speak of my appearance, because regardless of what I say it will sound like vanity, but I was no beauty before I died, unless you agree with those who call all high-born ladies fair. If I look in the mirror I think he is right. My skin has become clearer, my features cleaner, my corpulence seems like strength rather than shapelessness. Nothing about me is unrecognisable. Perhaps I am closer to the Gertrude I should have been.

I felt nothing of substance for him while he courted me. I said yes because he was shamefast and I might not get another young suitor, and because he agreed to my requirement. He had many good attributes. Why cannot I say it? He was a good man. Even if he had been the most vile husband, he was the one who saved me. I believe for certain that he loved me.

One thing remains to tell: I said to him that we needed to use the leaves for our subjects. I thought that must have been why Providence had shown them to him. The leaf he had used on me was still there: they would not be used up.

He sat, brow furrowed. In the shadows of the hall both his face and hair were too bright, as if he were the one who had returned from the dead. I myself was just a column of healthy flesh.

“Can we do that?” he said, and from his tone it did not sound like a question. “Would that not go against God's will for mankind?”

Later, I would think about how he had never shown himself pious before, but nor did he sound like he was thinking of God's personal love or justice. Rather, he spoke as if of some vast pattern that might not even have been created by an intelligence.

“It was God who created the leaves,” I said. “Ought he not to wish for something so good to be used?”

I had had an image of how we would send processions of monastics with the leaves to the dwellings and manor-houses where they were needed. They would be white-clad, since they carried life.

“All is not permitted, just because God created it.” He shook his head while he spoke and did not meet my eyes.

Then I found my trump-card.

“My lord husband,” I said, “you used them to restore me to life. If using the leaves is a sin, you sinned when you saved me. Do not begrudge your subjects the same mercy.”

His expression barely changed, but he gave a shudder.

After a while he said:

“Gertrude, do you want to keep men from Heaven for eternity?”

Then it was my turn to quiver and almost falter, because I saw before my mind's eye a world of many desiccated men and women, like in a painting of the Dance of Death, deprived of grace. (Yet I looked at myself and saw no signs of degradation.)

I returned to my argument.

“If raising someone from the dead is a sin, you should never have... tried to save me. But using the leaves to save your wife but not the common people is not virtue, it is hypocrisy.”

Finally he had to appeal to his marital authority over me. Even then I would not have had to give in, but he had placed the leaves in some hidden strongbox. He said that it was because they were brittle. They were dry leaves, little flakes would wear off every time they woke someone. I might have been able to find the hiding-place if I had searched, but he would have known that it was I.

Shortly afterwards Gabriel asked my parents for a ship so that we could visit his father. When he wedded me, my parents had granted his father a manor-house and a pension so that he could pay his farmhands, but Gabriel had not seen him since he signed for a soldier.

I was grateful to get something else to occupy my thoughts, and Gabriel was impatient to leave. After the charnel-house he was more fond of the open air and sky than before. He was abroad as often as his duties as Crown Prince permitted; rode or hunted. When he had to go to bed he often drank until he stumbled.

He begged my forgiveness for it once. The wine had made him outspoken.

“I can barely stand to be in a dark space otherwise,” he said.

I did not understand why he needed to explain; I was used to men drinking. I did not have the same fear.

I suppose that he wanted to see his father again, but that the thought of the sea also drew him: blue, wastes. I do not think that he had been aboard a ship before we married.

Now it turned out that a sea-voyage meant sitting cabined in the centre of an infinity that glared with sun and confused the senses. That was insofar as we were allowed on deck, where the crew needed room to work. I was not capable of much. The sea made me ill and weaker than I liked to be after the consumption. That is something no-one can know what it is before he has undergone it, to lie ill for days without hope of relief. Gabriel was tender towards me, I want you to know that, but it was hard for him. He stayed on deck for as long as daylight allowed, or until the seamen sent him down to have him out of their way, and in the cabin he sat staring up at the beams and picking at the hem of his doublet, or at his own fingers or whatever he found that might distract him.

The skipper came instead. At first he only held the bucket when nausea overcame me, and never spoke, as if he had been taught that a member of the royal household was some reverend object with whom you could have no rapport. It was I who had to start talking to him, because I had no other way to pass the time.

Now you will believe that I loved him – but why should I excuse myself on that point, I who have done more terrible things? Believe then that I am an adulteress.

It happened that I complained to him over what Gabriel had decided concerning the snake-leaves, and between one moment and the next he said:

“Your Highness does realise that it would be easy to get rid of him?”

The look in my eyes must have been terrible, because he withdrew as quickly as he could excuse himself. He did not speak to me for a day or two, until I could convince myself that he had proposed something innocent, perhaps that I should have Gabriel sent on a long journey, which I had misunderstood.

When I came above deck I could see land in the distance, still no more than a strip of fog, and the next time the skipper and I were alone together, it was I who brought it up.

We did it under the cover of night, and only after he stopped struggling in the waves did the skipper raise his: “Man overboard!” None other than us know.

Does that mean that I am safe? We live in a world where the dead have woken. The skipper suggested that we tie weights around his ankles and hide him under the depths, but that particular cruelty was what I could not countenance. Perhaps I will regret that.

As the crew reefed the sails to turn back, I looked towards the coast, as if I might see his father's house.

THE END

#fiction #fantasy #dark_fantasy #fairy_tale #short story #resurrection

1 note · View note

onebloodsoakedlion · 3 years

Text

Destruction Calls (DBQ2 crossver oneshot)

Ryoma stared at the ceiling of the cell that was now his room. He was nearly crying. He and Malroth had fled the Isle of Awakening to avoid capture only to crash into a prison ship and get arrested anyways. And all because Malroth refused to fight back against the stupid Gargoyle that was holding Brownbeard hostage. Seriously though, Ryoma had an entire sack of healing herbs - they could’ve treated Brownbeard’s injuries after the fight was over. And considering how quick Ryoma was with the sword, chances were that said injuries would’ve been minimal! And besides, Malroth was the more... callous one here, so his surrendering to ensure Brownbeard would not have been hurt was unexpected.

Because of this, Ryoma was stuck in a prison. With nothing. And worst of all, he was dehumanised with a fucking number. Ryoma was so out of his depth that he didn’t even care if fucking Brownbeard had lived or died. He was furious that he was forced to make this sacrifice even if there were other options.

As he failed to get to sleep from his pure anger at the situation, he noticed a shadow appear in front of the prison bars. “It’s time to go, Builder. You’ve been here for long enough.” “Who are you” Ryoma growled. “I am the Puppeteer,” the shadow replied, reaching through the bars, slipping the young prisoner a hammer. His hammer. “This place will do you no good. It won’t do your friend any good. You must leave. Now.” The shadow dived through the bars, straight at Ryoma, dissolving into his body. Ryoma immediately got the urge to break the cell doors down. He slowly walked to the bars, hammer in both hands, before using Bigger Bash to break the bars to bits. It felt so good, as if he’d dealt a heavy dose of irony and karma to his captors. “What do you think you’re doing, 6207?! Think you can break out of this place? Well how about we break your bones, one by one!” Ryoma had no fear of the guard, only rage. He marched up to the skeleton and raised his hammer, before bringing it down on its bony head.

Of course the skeleton’s mates had to come running, so Ryoma switched from hammer to Dragonsbane. The skele squad’s attacks were no match for Ryoma’s swift slashes and dauntless dodging. He was enjoying this way too much. After the skeleton guards were defeated, Ryoma had just enough time to free Malroth and equip his armour before the inspector arrived. The builder didn’t even bother to explain to Malroth how he’d managed to get his stuff back or escape. “What is the meaning of this!? 6207, 6208, how did you even manage to escape!? And how did you even get back the stuff I confiscated from you!?” “None of that matters,” Ryoma growled back, “All that matters is you’re doomed. And it’s all your gods-damn fault.”

The inspector didn’t stand a chance. Ryoma was lightning-quick, and with an expertly-executed sword slash, he knocked the staff right out of the inspector’s hands before he could cast a single spell. Ryoma then proceeded to follow up with a spinning slice aimed at the magus’s lower body, leaving his legs with large lacerations that brought him to his knees. “You’re not killing me,” the shocked magus exclaimed. “Not just yet,” Ryoma replied, propping the inspector up and holding his blade to the monster’s throat, “I wanna show you something. You see, you pathetic children of Hargon keep raving on about how destruction is the way. Well I’ll give you destruction. I’ll destroy this fucking hellhole you call Skelkatraz, before I destroy you!” “No... no! You can’t do that,” the Inspector cried, “You can’t destroy Skelkatraz!” “Oh yes I can, idiotic beast,” Ryoma replied with a wide, menacing grin, “It fits well within the teachings of the Children of Hargon. It’s exactly what you asked for and exactly what you deserve!” What followed was an entire three hours of Ryoma laying waste to every single structure of Skelkatraz, fatigue and hunger be damned. Such destruction had inevitably entailed setting the other prisoners free, but the method and fury only left them with fear and concern. Ryoma would not stop until there was barely any sign that a prison was even there. Concluding his rampage at the crematorium on the Puppeteer’s orders, Ryoma begrudgingly awoke Brownbeard whose body was scheduled to be burned. “So you’re alive,” Ryoma growled as soon as Brownbeard was back on his feet, “That means our trip to this putrid prison wasn’t in vain.” “I’m so sorry that this has happened to you,” Brownbeard fearfully apologised Like I said, they - ” Ryoma interrupted by shoving a bag containing several doses of medicinal herbs and a sword into the sailor’s arms, “Next time someone tries to hold you hostage, fight back and heal yourself. Saves us ever having to surrender again.” Ryoma turned to the Inspector, who he had dragged along with him to watch the destruction of Skelkatraz. Even Malroth, who had helped the young Builder lay waste to the place seemed to pity the poor magus. “Skelkatraz is no more,” Ryoma growled, almost completely out of breath, “Now you know what happens next.” The Inspector trembled in fear. “You guys have always been such hypocrites, you know. You say that building is outlawed, yet you yourselves have the guts to build this prison to put human builders in.” The Inspector nodded, too scared to deny it. “You don’t actually hate building,” Ryoma continued, “You just hate when humans do it, because it gives them an unfair advantage over you monsters. You want to stop us humans from getting what we need in order to defeat you and thus be free live our own lives.” “That’s right,” the Inspector replied, “You humans are so weak without your creations that even two slimes working together could beat you! You would have no choice but to follow Hargon’s orders!” “You just want Hargon to have power over us, don’t you,” Ryoma replied as he slit the Inspector’s throat and let his body fall to the ground. “Burn in hell, you megalomaniac sympathiser,” Ryoma growled as the magus’s body dissipated, leaving behind his soul, which burned brightly for a few seconds before fading away.

Ryoma staggered to the docks, his hands stained with bone dust from the skeletons and magic essence from the Inspector. There were two boats - the boat he and Malroth would use to travel to other islands and a familiar-looking slave ship, the latter of which had only just docked. A gargoyle flew out, took one look at Ryoma and Malroth and its jaw dropped. “We sent you here four days ago and already you’ve escaped!?” Ryoma’s rage energised him once more. He sprinted at the gargoyle and threw his Dragonsbane straight into its chest. He lunged on the gargoyle as it screamed in pain and yanked the blade out of its body before leaping onto the ship and killing its mates with a mere few slashes. Ryoma proceeded to dump a heap of dry grass and oil on the ship before using a torch to set it alight. “Wow, you really are mad at these guys,” Malroth sighed, shaking his head. “This part of the game should never have existed,” Ryoma hissed back. “Game? What are you talking about,” Malroth asked, his head leaning to one side. “You wouldn’t understand,” Ryoma replied, “You’re just a character, bound to a script. Let’s get out of here.” Before Ryoma, Malroth or Brownbeard could set foot on their boat, the other prisoners, still in their raggedy rags, had followed them onto the docks. “C-can we come with you,” one of the prisoners asked, “Since you destroyed Skelkatraz... we don’t have anywhere to live!” “Are you kidding,” another exclaimed, “That boy and his mate are madmen! Didn’t you see their frothing rage as they wrecked the place?” “But what about us! He never hurt us! Sure he grabbed me, but that was just to move me out of the way so I didn’t get destroyed!” “That builder is scary! For all we know he could be worse than our captors!”

It had taken several round trips to get all the former prisoners of Skelkatraz to the Isle of Awakening. While some were pleased as punch to finally be free, others, fearful of Ryoma and Malroth, had made it clear that they only came because they had nowhere else to go. But after the first trip back to the Isle of Awakening, Ryoma had already disembarked, and he was nowhere to be seen.

#crossover #dragon quest builders 2 #skelkatraz #fire emblem fates #malroth #ryoma #spoilers #au #au crossover #gorewarning #tw violence #tw gore #swear warning #skelkatraz sucked there was no freedom or building it is the worst part of the game #destruction #rage

2 notes · View notes

padfootagain · 4 years

Text

A Crimson Christmas (II)

Chapter 2: Erika

Here we go for the next part of my Steve Rogers series! Will be focusing quite a lot on some character building for the reader, and some cute things with Steve. As several of you seemed to appreciate how I started the first chapter, I tried to make something similar for this chapter too. I hope you all like it!

Gif not mine

Word Count: 2417

18 000

400

150 000 to 300 000

It is a strange thing to sum up an event in numbers. It makes one's head spin, and yet it never quite stirs the true horror of a tragedy or joy of a miracle. Yet, most of the times, when trying to describe an event, using numbers as a first weapon is almost a reflex, an automatic response of our brain as it tries to grasp something it can't hold.

If one wanted to sum up the sinking of the oil tanker Erika in December 1999, off the shores of Brittany, they would use the 4 numbers written above.

The first is the number of litres of gasoline that were released in the ocean from the cracked hull of the ship.

The second is the number of days it took for the fuel to cross the distance from the wreckage to the shore.

The third is the number of kilometres of French coast that were polluted by the floating gasoline.

The fourth, and last, is the estimated number of birds that died in the catastrophe.

Numbers though are but abstract quantities, and if one wants to truly describe the event, there is no other way but to attempt to draw a fair picture of the shores at the time.

The scenery is easy. December 1999, a lot of grey and blue as a storm rages out. The violent waves end to pierce the already weakened steel skin of the oil tanker and cause its carcass to sink to the bottom of the ocean. Its sailors are saved, but the shipment, 30 884 tons of petrol, is partially released in the Atlantic Ocean. The attempts to stop the black wave to reach the coast are cut short by the storm that shakes the sea at this time of year.

11 days later, the first pools of gasoline touch the islands that stain the French coast.

4 more days and 400 km of coast are completely covered by toxic oil.

At first, it is but a few dots staining the sand, some grey caught in the foam left by the waves. A few hours later, there are large blocks of black sticky substance all over the seashells. The next day, the rocks, and the paint of the boats, and the sand are barely visible at all. The army is sent to clean the shores, but the scale is too great. Volunteers join in, with shovels and sponges and knives and brushes in an attempt to clean up every rock, every grain of sand.

Walking through a beach at this time is walking midst soldiers and volunteers. Every step is a fight against the sticky product, with boots sometimes buried ankles deep into the dark petrol. It is the fresh salty smell of seaweeds replaced by the sour one of gasoline. It is cliffs falling in black sand instead of the blue sea. It is bodies of birds stranded all over the place.

What did it change? For the people living on the coast, it is still today an open wound. If one tries to talk about the incident with the local population, they will be met by a pair of sad eyes and the tale of Christmas holidays spent ankle-deep in gasoline.

For the world? Nothing. Just one more incident to add to the long list of chasms carved in the environment.

For you? Everything.

You remembered the long ride from Saint-Malo to the western coast. First holidays since you entered University. For this first semester, you were majoring in all subjects, but you already had a vivid passion for bio-ecosystems, and in particular, marine biology.

Then the Erika sank. It was natural to go and help. You remembered Christmas day spent breathing the toxic petrol until it was all you could smell. Your boots buried in the sticky, black slime. Shovels and shovels digging the polluted sand. Soldiers all around you, but despite all this help, it wasn’t enough. You knew everything the gasoline would touch would surely die. It would take years for nature to heal. It had taken a few hours and a few minds craving for money to destroy it all.

You were picking up your fifth dead gull of the day. The gasoline, stuck to its feathers, made it impossible for it to float, and impossible for it to fly. Most of them had drowned, and all you could do was pick up the corpses.

You had ventured further than the rest of your friends, closer to the rocks now barely visible in all this black, when you heard a loud cry. A cormorant, without a doubt. You needed only a few seconds to spot the bird, covered in oil already, struggling to escape, struggling to avoid drowning, struggling to survive…

Somehow, it was just too much. After all you had seen that day, it was the last thing you could endure. You didn’t think at all as you ran across the slippery rocks and jumped in the salty water, trying to keep your head above the petrol.

You grabbed that poor agonizing thing in your arm, trying to keep it afloat, and you didn’t let go as it tried to escape.

The sea was far from calm though, and the thick layer of gasoline made it impossible to swim. At the first big wave, you were submerged, swallowing a bitter gulp of mixed salty water and fuel. You heard then the distant voices of your friends calling after you, they sounded scared, and you realized that you were too. Another forceful wave had you pushed against the rocks and you hit your head hard, and all went as dark as that bloody gasoline…

The rest was a blur. You remembered waking up in a hospital bed a week later, a real miracle. You should have died, that was what everybody said. But you didn’t, instead, somehow, you lived with new abilities.

You didn’t know where they came from, and were too scared of what any doctor could do to you if you ever showed any sign of abnormality, you had seen too many movies and read too many books to ignore the threat of becoming a lab rat. Years later, the Avengers formed, and you were spotted by Nick Fury. What had happened in your mind when you accepted to join them, you didn’t know. You reckoned that in the end, it was worth it all. This moment now, especially, made it all worthwhile.

After all, seeing Captain America wearing mascara and red lipstick was a sight to see.

"Mets tes lèvres comme ça!" the ten-year-old girl instructed Steve as she pursed her lips to show him what she wanted him to do, and he imitated her.

"Parfait!" she clapped her little hands in excitement as she added even more red to Steve’s lips.

"Gwen, laisse-le tranquille," your brother admonished, trying to rescue Steve from the excited child. But Steve merely smiled.

"It’s okay, we’re just playing," he reassured the worried father.

"Lèvres! Comme ça!"t Gwenn called Steve back into position and he pursed his lips again.

You picked up your phone and sneaked a picture, that you immediately sent to the entire Avengers WhatsApp group. With the different timezones, you reckoned you would have no answer before a few hours, but it was worth the wait.

It was true that joining the Avengers had meant a lot of changes, a lot of risks, a lot of pain. But it meant that you had met your best friends as well, and you couldn’t refrain a tender smile as you watched Steve play with your niece now.

"Y/N… the coffee is growing cold!"

You reached absentmindedly for your cup and warmed the beverage again. Your sister gave you a look.

"Cheating again."

"Controlling water has to have a few advantages. My drinks are always at the perfect temperature!"

She rolled her eyes.

"So, for how long are the two of you staying in Saint-Malo?"

You merely shrugged as an answer.

"We don't really know. I mean, we're supposed to just stay for the holidays, but I guess we don't know what to do next."

"Ha… retiring superheroes… poor you. You will definitely not have the complete retiring allowance now! Does that even count as a job, superhero?"

"I don't think it does. Shit… I've lost all these years…"

The two of you giggled, but your father did not.

"You should think about what to do next. And you could stay here. It's home."

"Papa, it's not that easy."

"Why not? Because monsieur muscle over there won't move here for you? So, you could be with your family."

You and Steve exchanged a glance.

"Well, we… haven't really talked about that," Steve tried to elusively respond, but it failed.

"You've spent years living a dangerous life. It's time to settle down. And you have to think about financial security now."

"Papa…"

"You need to get a job. A real one."

"Saving the Earth was not a job important enough for you?" you fired back, feeling more and more annoyed.

"You wasted years over this superhero adventure. I'm not saying it was useless, of course not. And I am proud of you. But you sacrificed your life during all this time. You didn't settle down, you didn't think about having a family, you didn't think about your old days… And I think it's time for you to have a normal life for a change."

You considered his words, and realized there was wisdom in them. You didn't quite like the way he put it, but you couldn't deny that you had spent years putting your life on the line. And maybe he was right, maybe now it was time to think about your own happiness before everyone else's.

"And you?" your father turned to Steve, his tone accusatory. "Don't you want her to be happy?"

Steve was playing your fake boyfriend, yet, he didn't need to lie to answer that question. And you could see it, deep down, in the depth of his blue eyes, that he meant the words he spoke. That was what friends were made for, right?

"There's nothing I want more than for Y/N to be happy, sir."

It was hard to look away from his baby blue eyes for some reason. Despite his funny look, covered in make-up, you didn't want to laugh at all. You just… wanted to keep on looking at him.

You guessed that you were letting your thoughts drift too far, and forced your brain to focus on your family again.

"We'll see, papa," you gave your father a smile. "It's not that easy to decide what to do next. It was our life for so long."

"I haven't forgotten how much you had to sacrifice," he mumbled in a dark tone, and you knew that he was referencing to the years you spent on the run with Steve.

You heaved a tired sigh.

"We've talked about it… countless times. It was my choice to make, and I agreed with Steve. You would have preferred for me to become a pawn that could be used by governments whenever they wanted?"

"Of course not. Governments couldn't be trusted…"

"Then why are you still bringing that up?"

"Because I didn't see my daughter for two years, that's why!"

You heaved yet another sigh, and Steve finally stood up from his spot on the carpet where he had been playing with Gwen. He took some cotton and started to clean up his face.

"I think we've both had a life that was out of the ordinary for too long," Steve spoke with a slow, quiet tone, his voice deep and calm showing he had been giving the situation a lot of thought. "It's hard to imagine what to do with the life we have left. I think… we just need a little time to let it all sink in, the truth that it can be over, that we don't have to be the ones in charge anymore. I think… we had both come to be at peace with the idea that we didn't have the choice of a life of our own. Now that we do, it feels strange. We don't really know what to do with it. Personally, I've never been anything else. We just need a little bit of time, to get used to it all. Then, I'm sure the decisions will come to us quite naturally. In the meantime, we just want to enjoy Christmas."

He reached for your hand, and you guessed that it was just for the act. Just because he played your fake boyfriend. It would be logical, if you were a couple, to be holding hands then, you reckoned. He was right. Besides, it felt safe to hold his hand.

"You know, I think I'm very tired after our long journey and everything. We should go to bed," you proposed.

Your grandmother finally joined the conversation.

"I've forgotten the blankets."

"I know where they are, mamie, don't bother."

But she was already walking towards the bedroom, and after you bid goodnight to your family, while they were getting ready to go as well, you and Steve joined Martine in the bedroom she had prepared for Steve and you.

You were not surprised to find that she had already put the blanket upon the bed.

"Oh, I forgot," she explained, but you were not fooled.

There was a short silence, before she heaved a sigh.

"Your father is worried. He always is. He's just not good at showing it. He does it all wrong."

"I know."

"It doesn't matter what you choose to do next. We're all here for you. Et puis, je l'aime bien, ton petit Steve," she added with a tender smile towards your 'boyfriend'.

He gave her a warm smile.

"I'm glad you like me, I've spent a lovely afternoon with you, Martine," he answered.

"Tomorrow you can show him the town," your grandmother instructed you.

"Yes, I will."

"Goodnight, les amoureux!"

You could only bury your face in your palm. She had to call you lovebirds, of course… if only she knew the truth.

"Bonne nuit, mamie."

The second she closed the door behind her, Steve and you exchanged a tired glance. It was more than time to go to bed. Tomorrow would be a brand new day. And there was much to do, and many questions to find answers to.

********************************************************

Taglist : @ponycake27 @horsesreign @xinyourdreamsx @jbluevelvet @notkeppeki @daynigt-dreamer-stuff @fudgeflyss @stuckupstucky @snek-shit @suchatinyinfinity @i-padfootblack-things @buckybsarmy @heyohheyitsgabi@jigsawlover10 @emyyjemyy @addictedtofictionalcharacters @staringmoony

@marvelcapsicle @madamrogers @rishlo @theshortegg @blacklilyqueen

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #captain america x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers imagine #captain america fanfiction #captain america imagine #imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #mcu #mcu fanfiction #mcu imagine

28 notes · View notes