#normal about hive and him (LIE)

[the-goldendragon]

I was compelled because I saw this post and the voices won

Hive propaganda without text below:

[loudn-mcyt]

SBK Season 2 Superhero Builds (Pt. 3)

The third of three installments, it's time for the last three new members of Skyblock Kingdoms to build, in Skyelre, Quillbee, and DevonsDesk! The first part, with Piepie and Nature, can be found here, while the second part, with Legundo and Nukeri, can be found here. The masterpost for all builds, including season 1, can be found here. Let's get into it!

First up, we have the Creaking Queen of Pale Oak herself, Skyelre. The colors here were taken from her eyes and her jacket.

The inspiration for Skyelre was pretty obvious: she's a creaking. I already have headcanons/musings about Creaking!Skyelre, and turning those into a superhero concept and build was extremely fun and satisfying to do.

Her main power, Creaking, is an absolute beast worthy of a paragraph all to itself. It provides an absolutely ludicrous amount of powers: enhanced strength, speed, and resilience, near-total immunity to standard weapons, and complete immunity to anything that might try to move her somewhere she doesn't want to go, whether through mental manipulation or direct force. The advantages folded in also ensure that she can hit you like a truck, wipe out your entire group, and vanish into the darkness before you can make a move. There is a limitation to this incredible set of powers, though: she only has them at night. During the day, Skyelre becomes a normal human - perhaps a slightly more resilient than normal one, with a good deal of charm and investigative talent, but a human nonetheless. During the night, though, she becomes a terrifying force for good.

Her other two powers, Creaking Heart and Denizen of the Pale Garden, offer her some defensive and utility applications, but nothing she can use to fight - that is a task for the night. Creaking Heart makes her much more difficult to kill through Regeneration, and makes sure that she comes back the next night even if she was somehow killed, so long as her heart is safe. Denizen of the Pale Garden allows her to fill the area with thick fog that only she can see through, while becoming completely invisible to the eye inside.

These two utility powers complement both sides of her build, and the different roles she plays at different times. During the day, she is built for information gathering, with skills allowing for different approaches to the task as complemented by the Denizen of the Pale Garden power. At night, she's an incredibly resilient ambush predator, putting the information she gathers to good use to lie in wait in the fog to strike and destroy evil before it knows she's even on their trail.

However, these powers might terrify their user as well. After all, how much of the creature stalking the night is her, and how much is her power?

Next up, we have Quillbee, with colors taken from his eyes and bee stripes.

Quillbee, of course, has bee powers. Because what else would I ever give him? These powers include wings, a stinger (which he CAN use more than once, to be very clear), some additional senses, and the ability to speak to insects. He is focused on being quick and tricky to hit, while his stinger attack mixes some disorienting toxins into the damage for a dangerous close-range attack. On the defensive side, he is shifted towards avoiding attacks rather than tanking them, though he is a lot more resilient than one might think at first glance.

His advantages focus on emphasizing his agility and his role as a team player (a member of a hive, if you will). Evasion and Uncanny Dodge allow for further avoidance of harm, and Teamwork, Set-Up, and Inspire allow him to have a selection of non-attack options in combat to assist allies. Skillwise, he has a variety of abilities focused on agility and helping others, as well as a pair of expertises in insects and flowers, because I had space in the budget and thought it would be fun.

For his complication, I chose to focus on the idea of Quillbee as a social insect without a hive around him (Side note: I am aware that some species of bees are solitary. I am choosing not to look at those bees for very long.) In addition to his heroics, Quillbee is also after a hive to call his own, if there even is one for him to fit into out there...

Ah, DevonsDesk. You deeply, deeply confusing man. For this, I chose the colors of his desk head and the pink sweater on his cherry kingdom skin.

Devon was very difficult for me to make a build for. Not because the build itself was particularly difficult to make, but because I couldn't figure out what the build should be. I went through a couple ideas - something with dimensional powers tied to the idea of trapdoors, another with Devon as a shapeshifter. But then it hit me. Devon is a desk. So why don't I let him be a desk?

Devon's core power is to touch objects and mimic the traits of whatever it is he touches - be it a desk, or a cactus, or a toaster, or whatever other object he happens to lay his hands on, he can replicate that. In game terms, this relies on the Variable power, which gives him a pool of points to distribute however he needs to. This is also why you will notice that his defenses are a bit lower than they could be; the remaining amounts are made up by the Variable power. and can therefore shift around. The same is true of his unarmed attacks, which may become more dangerous as he uses his power.

His advantages make him able to practically anything at at least some level, and his skills allow him to be the truly baffling man that he almost always is.

Finally, Devon's complication represents the fact that...is he even a human? He's a human desk? What does that even mean? Nobody knows, including Devon, which can cause some issues.

[light-wrath-paradise]

Animorphs book club: book #6

Ok I'm late but in my defense I was busy. Anyway. Book 6.

My reaction:

Ok now for some thoughts:

Still fascinating for me that Animorphs has a level of body horror that isn't a lot less graphic than the horror audio drama The Silt Verses. Literally only like 20 % less graphic.

Ah I see we're continuing the trend of characters not really understanding one another. Jake thinking that Marco is immature and super unserious is so funny in a sad way. Like haha Marco I guess the façade you're putting on is working well for you!! Sorry about it or congrats it happened.

"Why would the Yeerks infest a hospital?" is such a question. Like yes, for one, it gives them a lot of people to turn into Controllers when they're under anesthesia. But there's the second deal as well: even if you aren't going under...even if you're just visiting...the hospital is a somber place. It's, very often, a place of pain and desperation. It's a place of grief. All those things make you less guarded, less rational. And more prone to outside influence. There is no better person to recruit into a cult than someone who is going through the loss of their loved one or someone who might soon lose their life. Scared people. Grieving people. Crying exhausted aching people. Nervous and anxious and jumpy and alone. There's no better place to get more hosts than the hospital.

Extremely funny that all the Yeerks in the hospital (logically) assumed that some roaches got inside and were just like "Ah fuck we got roaches. Oh well, there are other things to worry about." while Visser 3 is the only one whose first and only thought is "Those roaches are secretly the Andalite bandits." I mean, he's not wrong in this case but it's incredibly funny that he's paranoid enough for this to be his assumption. He's like the saying "the man who sleeps with a gun is a fool every night but one" and this happened to be the rare case time he's right (I assume that many a time we don't see him, he does claim that randomass animals are the Andalite bandits. Like come on a man who looks at a random cat or a group of roaches and immediately claims that they're Andalite bandits HAS to be doing that nearly every time he sees an animal. He sounds like this to me:)

"Someone kill this fool for me!" - completely normal thing to say. Top 10 sentences to liven up an office meeting.

EVERYONE GIVE IT UP FOR HOST-PARASITE PSYCHOLOGICAL WARFARE YEEHAAAAAAAAAW. LET'S BREAK OPEN THE CHAMPAGNE YIPPEEEEEE. I'd say sorry but I refuse to apologise for being insane about host-parasite psychological warfare and about watching an alien war criminal eat shit and experience The HorrorsTM. I am collecting instances of alien parasites experiencing The HorrorsTM like they're the only vital for my survival.

Warning: this is the part where I get a little insane and also start rambling about other literature as well without like explicitly naming it but rest assured I'm talking about several stories at once which is why I use different pronouns for the different aliens in question:

EVERYBODY GIVE IT UP FOR THE MUTUAL HORROR OF THE PARASITE-HOST RELATIONSHIP, I REPEAT WE HAVE A CASE OF THE HORROR OF PARASITE-HOST RELATIONSHIP. YEEEHHAAAAAAAAWWWWW.

Anyway, yeah, I just...love it when a story features the horror of knowing in relation to being a host/parasite. Especially when it includes organisms that either are a hive mind or function similarly to a hive mind. There's horror in something knowing every crevice of you, every inch of your mind, something that is not you in any capacity and not even the physical one now has access to every thought you've ever thought, every feeling you've ever felt, every memory, every desire, every fear. You can't lie to it, you can't pretend that you don't feel sad when you do, you can't pretend that you feel angry when you don't. There's unimaginable horror in being perceived like that. It's more naked than being naked in the literal sense. It's as if someone stripped you of your skin and exposed the flesh underneath. It's the kind of naked you wouldn't want to be even in the presence of the people you love most, not to mention in the presence of a stranger or an enemy. There's horror in the thing that knows you speaking with your tongue and moving with your limbs as you can only watch.

But the thing, the organism, well it doesn't really think of itself as a thing, does it? The organism considers themselves/itself/himself as important as you are (in truth, MORE than you are), with their/its/his own goals and thoughts, and, oh, they're/it's/he's wholly unprepared for a mind that stares back. There's horror in being next to nothing, just a small little thing, that has the tables turn on it. You're on top when you're on top but the fact of the matter is you are just a fungus/worm/slug and you don't really have much of a say when push comes to shove. Your warfare is psychological and even that is flawed - you are not prepared for having it reflect back onto you.

Now, you can try as you might to say that you're not scared, that you're rational, better and smarter and colder but you seem to forget that the spotlight of perception shines in the eyes of the beholder and, unfortunately, that's where you are.

How does it feel? The fear and anger you claim you don't experience (You don't feel.) (Emotions are below your race.) (You're not afraid.).

How does it feel? The horror of the prey glaring at you and telling you "Two can play this game." How does it feel? When the antelope speaks in the lion's tongue to tell him it knows, it knows it's old and afraid of getting discarded? You'd know all about that, wouldn't you?

[phoebepheebsphibs]

From Bad to Worse

@boots-with-the-fur-club @tmntaucompetition

Prev || Next

Julia paced back and forth as she waited for Luke to return.

She felt uneasy. Call it 'Mother's intuition', if you will. Something was off.

The phone rang by the kitchen countertop. Surprised, she dove for it and nearly smacked herself in the face when she put it to her ear.

"Hello? Luke, is that you??"

"Hey, Mom!" Michelangelo's voice rang through, tinny and slightly staticy. Hotel phones, ammiright? Not that Julia had ever used a hotel phone...

"Mikey!" she grinned, happy that her kid was safe. If he was alright, then that meant -- "Everyone else is okay too, right? No one's hurt?"

"We're all fine, Mom," Luke's voice came in, a bit more distant from the phone.

"That's good, I... wait, where are you calling from?"

"The daycare office," another, unfamiliar voice chimed in. "I hope you don't mind. My cellular device, uh... kinda got crushed in battle."

There was a soft pause.

"Oh, this is John Bishop by the way. I don't think we've met yet."

Another, more uncomfortable pause.

"Oh, and I'm not spored anymore. I probably should have led with that."

"Ya think?" Mikey's voice noted sarcastically.

"I, um..." Julia listened carefully, hoping to find something to prove it. She didn't want to outright say she didn't trust him or fully believe him, but they were dealing with a mind-controlling creature here that could turn your own senses against you. "Could you put Luke on for me?"

There was a shuffling sound as Luke took the receiver and whispered into it.

"Hey, Mom."

"Honey, are you okay?"

"Yeah, we're not hurt. I mean, Bishop looks a little worse for ware but --"

"No no, I mean --" she paused, inhaled, exhaled. "You know. The other thing."

Luke mimicked his mother with an inhale and exhale before he spoke again, voice softer than before.

"...It made me see our Mikey's death. And... and seeing Bishop normal and lucid again is tough, for... a number of reasons. But he's understanding so... so it'll be good. I'm okay for now."

"Are you sure?" Julia asked. "You can tell me if something is troubling you."

"I know you have to ask that because you're my mother and kind of a therapist for kids, and I promise that after this is over we will have a long talk about everything," he whispered. That confession was enough to convince her it was truly her son speaking to her, and he would never lie to her. "But right now, we called you to warn you."

"Warn me?" Julia startled. "About what?"

"Chaplin's on his way!" Mikey butt in. "We were able to free Bishop from the spores but they just infected Chaplin instead! And since you have two hive-minded spore victims with you --"

Julia dropped the phone. She could hear the voices on the other end continue to talk and call her name as she raced into the bedroom and shook LeonAudro awake.

"hhhhrrrmrmmmmmwwwwhaatisittt?" Leo groaned, slowly sitting up as his eyes rolled around his head. "cccccannit wait t'll m'rn'ng??"

"No, I don't think so dear! Wake up Donnie -- AudreyTello -- er, your Donatello -- we may need his help."

"He hasn't slept in days," Leo yawned, groggily sliding out of the nest/bed. "I doubt I could even wake him if I wanted to..."

"Then just come with me, we have a situation!" Julia whispered, taking Leo by his hand and pulling him along into the kitchenette where the others were still panicking on the phone.

Julia grabbed the receiver and clicked a few buttons frantically before the voices came through speakerphone.

"--MOM! Mom? You still there?? Should I call back??"

"We're here, honey!" Julia exclaimed, holding the phone equal distance between her and the sleepy teen. "Tell us again what just happened."

"Ok, the tl;dr is that Bishop got despored but Chaplin is the new face of the fear fungus and escaped and is most likely on his way to your room now!" Mikey repeated.

Leo was silent, eyes blinking sluggishly as he struggled to stay aware.

"...Say huh?"

"You're all in danger!" a deeper, more grown-up voice shouted.

Leo's eyes popped.

"Is... that who I think it is?"

Julia nodded.

"...Hey, Bishop," Leo mumbled. "Long time no time."

"Ditto."

"Excuse me, but what are we going to do about the lovecraftian horror coming your way?" Luke asked.

Julia exchanged an unsure side-glance with Leo.

"...How long do we have?"

"He left around five, maybe ten minutes ago, tops," Bishop noted. "I don't exactly understand how this place works, but --"

"You'll have five minutes until he arrives," Luke explained. "You should get out of there!"

"Should we?" Julia pondered. "If he's tracking us, then what will running do?"

"Besides, Donnie's in no condition to be running anywhere right now," Leo added, one hand running over his bald head as the other fidgeted with his knit sweater. "And I'd hate to think what will happen to him or Mikey..."

"Aren't we safe in here anyways?" Julia added. "These magic rooms -- he can't get in, can he?"

"Not unless he's a part of your AU," MBU Mikey explained. "...Who's room are you in?"

"...Ours, I think," Julia whispered as she traced back her thoughts from just a few hours earlier. "The Mama Bear AU."

"Okay, so he won't be able to get in, but I wouldn't put it past him for anything," Mikey noted. "he'll do whatever he can. You'll need something to defend yourselves just in case."

"Does my winning personality count?" Leo asked jokingly.

"Yeah, you could definitely use that as a blunt instrument," Luke joked.

"Is this the time for banter?" John Bishop interjected.

"Right right, sorry."

"I'm sure we have plenty to prepare ourselves with," Julia noted, already rummaging through the drawers to look for anything she could use. "Thanks, boys."

She heard Bishop huff softly at that addressment, but he stayed silent.

"We'll be there soon to help," Luke promised. "When we come, we'll use a special code so you know it's us. You ask 'who's there' and we'll respond 'Seymour Krelborn'. Does that work?"

Julia chuckled softly.

"Yes, I think we can manage that. Be careful, don't take chances," Julia begged.

"Funny, I was gonna say the same thing to you!"

Julia smiled softly as she put the phone back into its place on the wall. Her smile faded into hard determination.

"Alright. Barricade the front door. Then lock yourself in your bedroom."

"But what about you?" Leo asked, eyes glimmering with the softest hint of blue around the corners of his vision.

"I'll be alright, I've been in stickier situations," she reassured him. "I fought in the civil war, this is nothing."

"Wait, you did what--?"

"Go stay with your brothers," Julia insisted. "Protect them. That's your job."

Leo nodded with determination and then raced away.

Julia got to work. Kids, don't try this at home. Unless you really, really want to... Mama Bear went to the cabinets and pulled out as many supplies as she could find. Plates, glasses, silverware, plastic cling wrap.

This magic hotel room really DID have everything she would need!

First, she covered the entrance with cling wrap. It wouldn't hold, of course, but it would distract and at best disorient. She then placed a thin yarn tripwire across the floor for the behemoth to trip over. A few more 'Home Alone' type traps were set up here and there in the short allotment of time she had left.

There was a knock at the door.

Julia took her position behind the couch, her ninpo rolling pin in one hand and sharp metal knitting needles in the other.

"Who is it?" she called out.

"Seymour Krelborne!" came the answer.

Julia gave a deep sigh of relief before slowly approaching the door. She clicked the lock and reached for the door chain before noticing a small flow of blue particles coming in from underneath the door.

A loud crack followed a sudden break, the door was snapped in half as squirming tentacles and a shrill shriek of anger started to slither their way through the splintered wood. She saw yellow glowing eyes lock in on her. Julia ran back to her station behind the couch fort she's built and watched as Chaplin ripped the door out from its frame and threw it into the hallway.

"Oh Miiiiiikeeeeey," he sang. "Guess who's heeeeerrrrrreee!"

Dr. Chaplin walked into the room...

"You know, you really shouldn't reveal your secret callsigns when my spies are in the room with you. LeonAudro still serves a purpose, even after all this time..."

...And immediately got caught in the clear cling wrap.

Chaplin growled as he stumbled, throwing his multiple arms around. His foot tripped over the yarn wire, sending him onto his knees as several cups filled with sharp cutlery were released from the ceiling, stabbing him in the back and shoulders. He roared, looking around frantically for Julia.

She was already on top of him.

Julia dug her needles deep into the side of his neck. Fighting in a war taught her some pretty helpful things, like how to heal gruesome injuries... and, unfortunately, how to inflict them. She knew exactly which arteries and muscles to go for, what angle to stab at to cause as much damage as she could. Neon pink and dark red spurted out as he screamed and wriggled underneath her.

A long tentacle reached back and wrapped around her, throwing her into a wall.

. . .

Mikey shot up when he heard the very loud thump and crash.

He'd heard the door 'open'. His eyes popped open, Leo was standing guard. He saw Mikey wake, and held a finger to his lips while signing 'stay quiet, try to sleep'. It was only then he noticed Donnie asleep by his side, and Mikey stayed close to his chest, trying to focus on his heartbeat.

He'd heard a bone-curdling voice that he recognized instantly. Mikey's spines rose in defense, his tail going rigid and sharp with spikes. Leo held up his hand. Mikey pressed himself closer to Donnie. He could feel himself shaking in terror.

But it wasn't until he heard the thunderous crash that he jumped up, eyes wide. Leo looked terrified. He looked frozen, the only communication between the two teenagers was through their eyes, and Leonardo's were begging Mikey to stay where he was.

Everything in Mikey wanted to run away, cry out in fear. Mikey liked to believe that he was brave. Mikey liked to believe that he was mature. He liked to believe he wasn't a 'little man' as Raph used to call him.

But even hearing that voice, muffled through walls and garbled among other sounds, it terrified him. It made him feel like he was a very very little kid, still with all his baby teeth and chubby arms and squishy face, alone in a nightmare with the most grotesque and petrifying thing he'd ever known. His abuser. His murderer. The devil that tried to make him into his own personal demon of war.

Mikey could feel the tears flooding down his face, though he stayed silent.

Leo was by his side in an instant, holding him by his shoulders and forcing him to look only at his face, stay focused, stay grounded.

Another loud crash, a monstrous roar and a cry of pain.

Mikey gasped, the panic reaching exponential levels and causing his head to turn to static as he struggled to breath.

Leo gripped him tighter, bringing him close for an embrace as he whispered to him. Mikey couldn't understand anything, all he could hear was a vicious and cruel man telling him how wonderful of a killing machine Mikey was, berating him and ordering him to attack his own brothers.

There was another crash, and he heard Julia yell before coughing and gasping. She sounded hurt!

Mikey wrestled himself free from Leo's grip and jumped to the door. He heard Leo hiss at him to stay back and stay in the room as he reached out for him.

Mikey cracked the door open, peeking through.

There he was, in all his un-glory. Standing over Julia, who was propping herself up by her elbows as she struggled to stand, coughing and hacking. She spit onto the floor. It was speckled red.

Chaplin turned. He saw Mikey.

Mikey gasped. Leo shut the door.

"I'm sorry!" he cried, crawling backwards. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

The door bent in half. Mikey and Leo screamed. He could hear Julia screaming in the other room as well. Leo stepped between the two of them, directing Mikey to stay on the bed with the still sleeping Donnie. How had he not woken up yet??

Leo raised his fists. Where was his odachi? No, katanas. No, he... Mikey's memories were all mixed up as his panic overruled his thought process. LeonAudro stood between the monster and his creation, trying to hide how badly he was shaking as he kept his fists up and shouted at the beast.

"You're not taking my brothers!" he yelled, voice cracking indiscreetly. "You might as well leave! Or else... o-or else you'll have to deal with me and these bad boys!" He raised his fists just a little bit higher.

Chaplin laughed.

"How funny. But why would you send me away when you were the one to invite me here in the first place?"

Leo's face fell.

"What...?"

Chaplin's eyes glowed blue, and Leo screamed in pain, gripping his head tightly as he stumbled around the room. He looked back at his little brother, and Mikey saw his eyes flashing between white and blue.

Chaplin swat Leo down like a bug, sending the slider flying into the wall with a crashing thud. Leo's glowing eyes rolled back in his head as he slid down the wall and crumpled onto the ground. Mikey shrieked out and dove towards him, patting his cheeks as he tried to wake him up.

"Blue?! BLUE!! Wake up, p-please w-wake up! Get up, Blue!!... Leo...?"

Leo was unresponsive.

"Come along now, pet," Chaplin teased. "Before I lose my temper anymore than I already have."

Mikey turned and growled at him, seething with fury. How dare he hurt his brother. How dare he attack his family. How dare he ruin his life and try to take away everything he loved and trusted. Mikey's fangs elongated, jutting out as he snarled at the man. His spines and spikes were sharp, on point. His claws scratched the floors. He clicken menacingly at Chaplin.

"I will give you till the count of three," Chaplin sighed. "One..."

Mikey pawed and rutted at the ground, an animalistic trait to warn an opponent that he was getting ready to charge.

"Two..."

Mikey snarled. He could see Julia struggling to stand. It only made him madder.

Mikey pounced.

Something caught him midair.

"...Three." Chaplin sighed. "I must say, I am disappointed. I was half-hoping to reach a conflict resolution peacefully."

Mikey struggled, a cold chill running up his spine as he realized that Chaplin was not the on holding him back. Mikey could feel the air around him shifting, a blue aura and sickening fog beginning to surround him as the arms that had caught him began to slowly wrap over his torso. They were meant to be loving, kind and familiar arms. But the were unfeeling, cold, and calculating.

"I suppose that making you suffer could be one kind of consolation, however," Chaplin sighed. "After all you did to me."

Mikey struggled, chirping and screeching as AudreyTello marched his baby brother over to Dr. Chaplin.

"Thank you," he whispered to AudreyTello, as he wrapped a slimy and slithering hand Mikey's throat. "As for you... I suppose I owe you a form of gratitude as well."

Chaplin lifted Mikey high off of the ground, squeezing around his neck. Mikey gagged and choked, kicking wildly as he struggled against his captor.

"I was always in the business of weaponizing fear. Through machines, or political regimes, or you. Fear has always been the greatest motivator. At first, I was furious you brought me here. But now, seeing all this place has to offer -- I really must thank you! You've shown me, yet again, there is no limit to what I can take."

Mikey's movement lost energy. His grip on Chaplin's slimy claw loosened. His kicks slowed. His eyes grew hazy. His breathing was raspy.

"Your idiotic mushroom-riddled Bishop believed that I wanted to return home with you. He was right on one count -- I wanted you back. But why would I ever go back to that stinking dimension?"

Chaplin tightened his grip to the point Mikey screamed in pain with whatever air he had left inside him. He brought the child close to his face, close enough he could smell the putrid, rotting flesh.

"I died there, remember?" Chaplin spat. "You did that to me. So, why would I go back when I could have my revenge here? And not just on you, but EVERY Mikey, every stupid little mutant turtle from EVERY dimension! And after that, who's to stop me from going wherever I want! I don't need your universe, I'll make my own!"

Chaplin's face split into a sharp and disproportionate grin.

"And who knows, maybe I'll let you keep a version of your brothers..."

There was a sound like shattering glass, halting Chaplin mid sentence. Someone had thrown a lamp at his head. He sighed, rolled his eyes, and turned around, still holding a barely conscious Mikey like a ragdoll.

"Do you mind?" he asked drably, gently sweeping the shards of pottery and the dented lampshade off his bulging shoulders. "I've heard it's rude to interrupt when someone is talking..."

Mikey felt Chaplin's grip loosen just enough for him to catch a breath. Through blurry vision, he could see a creature half as large as Chaplin, dressed in dark wraps and a red mask.

"You again?" Chaplin growled. "What, are we collecting family members like its a hide and seek?"

"Let him go," Raph growled, helping Julia to stand up.

"Or what?" Chaplin chuckled.

Mikey turned and glanced back at Donnie. Dee looked like he was sleepwalking, same as Mikey when Chaplin used his Alpha powers. Mikey noticed something glimmering under his cloak. He swished his tail and saw a small collection of potions tethered to his belt. Mikey wasn't sure what they did, but he grabbed the first one he could reach with his extra appendage. It was bright orange and strangely warm. Donnie saw him and reached up to reclaim the potion.

Mikey smashed the bottle over Chaplin's head.

He was not expecting what happened next. But he figured he'd regret it later...

Prev || Next || Where did Donnie get the potions from??

[it-is-what-it-is790]

Okay so this is going to be like such a mess of thoughts but oh well

I love the idea that Cain is Lucifers son and I can see it happening one of two ways. Either heaven knows or only a very select few do.

If heaven knows, I see it happening like this

When Eve gives birth, the archangel Raphael helps. It's very obvious that Cain is Lucifers. Raphael, despite his better judgement, tells Michael who then tells god. They never outright say anything to Eve and Adam, in fact they try to lie by saying Cain is just a special blessing but the two figure it out pretty quickly.

Cain grows up mostly normal. Eve struggles a lot at first Cain, mostly unsure what to do with a baby and panicked from how loud Cain is and how he could attack something dangerous. Adam loves him though and completely dotes on him. Eve loves him too, but it's difficult. Raphael regularly gets assigned to help watch over Cain.

The only notably different thing about Cain as he grows up is that he can't eat animals or wear their skin. This is realized when Eve tries to wrap Cain in a wool blanket and the poor baby breaks out in hives. Raphael heals Cain and from then on out he has to bring Cain special clothes from heaven.

The issue starts when Cain and Abel are older teens (think around Abel being 17 and Cain being 19). After Abel was born, it was very obvious to Cain that he was the weird one. He could tell he was similar to Raphael and the few other angels that visited but he never knew exactly why (no one really spoke of Lucifer directly). And for a while god did give Cain special attention, mostly visiting him in dreams and telling him he was destined for more. But overtime, it became clear that Abel was the favorite to pretty everyone. And if Abel wasn't technically "favored" he was definitely babied a lot more while Cain was basically forced to grow up from a very young age.

This all leads to Cain being very jealous and eventually his jealousy turns to anger which results in him attacking Abel while they were out working. This leads to Cain being banished from his family and angelic aid. Cain dies barely a year later of pneumonia.

If heaven doesn't know

I feel like this opens a lot of dramatic attention so it's how I typically imagine things.

Raphael still helps Eve give birth but he doesn't say a word to anyone on heaven about how Cain looks. And no one really bothers to look into it because most of the most powerful beings have decided to ignore earth.

Raphael comes regularly to help Eve and Adam with Cain and much of Cains childhood is similar, just with only Raphael being the heavenly being interacting with Cain.

Cain grows up very close with Abel and they're very happy. Until Roo appears. She basically latches on to Cain because of his connections with Lucifer and hidden powers. She begins to turn Cain against his family, planting the seeds of Abel being the favorite. This goes on for years and Cain has no idea why he suddenly hears this voice. Eventually he snapps and kills Abel.

When he sees what he did, he's terrified. He takes off and hides to the point not even Raphael can find him. He still dies of pneumonia but it's much quicker as he left with nothing but his work clothes and he's too grief filled to really care about doing anything.

This is one of my favorite things to think about and discuss so feel free to ask questions!! I'll probably eventually talk about his time in hell and his relationship with Lucifer because it's a lot

[maggotfurby]

Crazy Caryn

(Rewrite version)

Written by MaggotFurby

The blistering summer sun beamed down on the sizzling pavement along with the soft pattering walk belonged to a physically exhausted twenty-four year old woman. Her scalp was met with the scorching blaze as sweat dripped down from her forehead, nearly stinging and blinding her sight. Caryn Lila Trevers had quit her job from a local fast food taco restaurant she left from, she sniffled and wiped the heavily pain-ridden tears from her face. Her legs were extremely sore from walking, so much so that she nearly became numb and almost fell over a couple times. As cars drove by, they never slowed down to show their concern. She didn't have a car at the time because she was flat broke and couldn't afford lessons at the DMV to get her license.

Her tangled strawberry-blonde locks loosely held together by a cheap elastic hair band in a ponytail. Her work uniform did not help much either from the unbearable summer’s heat as it was all black. The black t-shirt and black jean pants; Absolutely didn't pair well with the current temperature. Earlier, she was threatened by a rude customer, a middle aged woman with a bee-hive style hair do wearing an expensive fashion branded shirt with golden hoop earrings. The selfish woman verbally harassed Caryn all because the food she was offered was wrong, one of Caryn's lazy coworkers handed her the wrong order and she got the blame for it…again.

It wasn't the first time she got ridiculed, it happened to her constantly, so consistent that she vividly remembered all the harsh complaints and emotional torture. She worked at the restaurant for only a year and she thought she would be considered getting a promotion, starting off her life with better financial stability. Yet, she was incorrect. Her boss belittled and downgraded poor Caryn whenever she made a small mistake or couldn't figure out a problem she had a difficult time solving.

Her coworkers barely lifted a finger to help her out whenever it was a heavy duty task or doing janitorial work. Caryn worked by herself to the bone, when the chores were meant for four to six people. She attended the register, cleaned the lobby, cleaned the bathroom, took out the trash, and broke down cardboard boxes…all at the same time. One day, she was written up because she accidentally wore regular shoes at work instead of her non-slip black shoes she was forced to wear. Caryn often ran to the freezer in the back to help get away from severe panic attacks whenever lunch rush got too much for her. She screamed in bloody murder as the cold, freezing air nearly stiffened her throat.

The freezer was soundproof so no one could hear her yells of anguish through the metal walls.

Right after the nasty customer told a lie to her manager, she was written up again and had to be placed on break. The boss wanted to speak with her then on. At that moment, Caryn internally sickened about the lie that one lady said and she had no choice but to leave by walking out the lobby door, getting away from the prolonged abuse. Back to Caryn, she finally made it back home hours early than her normal arrival back from work. She hesitantly opened the door at her apartment, slowly walking inside as she saw her father on the couch scrolling on his phone, looking at dating profiles. Not even an eye rose up to her as she silently walked on by.

“You're home early…” her father said in a tired yet stern tone.

Caryn didn't even bother answering back at him while she walked inside her bedroom. Her small room didn't have much, just a small purple bed, a messy clothes dresser, an old TV laid across the cold wooden floor and her insect collectors frame hanging on the wall across the room. She looked around the room, reminded herself that she definitely didn't want to move again. She got into her casual clothes, and aggressively threw away the sweat infested work uniform into the small trash bin next to her dresser. Wore a raggedy Black shirt opposite to what she was wearing before, the other black shirt had the restaurant's logo on the back. Then wearing another clean pair of black jean pants while the other pair left her legs in fabric burns by walking back from her now former job.

Caryn fell backwards on her bed and stared up onto the ceiling, her eyes heavy from the tears and lack of sleep due to her ridiculous working schedule. Her arms pulsed and ached from dealing with heavy objects, numbingly stiff as her arms laid across on her bed as she laid there motionless. An hour passed when she woke up from her well deserved nap and headed towards the bathroom, moments later she quietly yelped in agony as she pulled the hair tie from her scalp. Strands of her ripped out, the stinging made her tear up even more. Her ghostly pale face reflected from the mirror, darkened bags around her once cheery complexion. Her hair became more frizzled after the tie was removed, combing the hair would make it worse since the hair tie made countless small knots. The emerald brownish eyes brightened by the redness of her tears. Made them almost bloodshot. Her lips almost didn't exist as she tried to stretch out a forced smile. Then Caryn drooped down her head while her shaky arms were handled onto the sink and began to sob again but quietly because she didn't want her father to hear her and get pissed at her for it. She hated the fact that she couldn't express her bottled up emotions from inside without being scolded by her verbally abusive parent.

She immediately got back her composure and took a long shower to help forget about the stressful Hell-hole of a day. Thoughts rushed through her mind of how she ended up in a shitty neighborhood in the first place, as one of her arms twitched violently as she tried to shake off one of the bad memories she's trying to forget. Caryn wished she had a normal childhood like anyone else, but not for her since she wasn't the lucky one. Her parents split up when she was around four or five years old and then diagnosed with High functioning ASD at six years old when she failed to recognize certain emotions and facial expressions along with intrusive small twitches of her arms whenever she gets too excited or very frustrated.

Which made life for her in school a living nightmare, bullies mocked and called her harmful names, one of them being called a retard despite the fact Caryn was an above average student, her quick learning skills made her one of the high ranking kids in education. The bullies grew jealous of her smarts and they constantly talked down to her about her special interests such as insect sightseeing, being called “Crazy Caryn” because of it. To other kids, bugs were considered unsettling to them but to her, she was infatuated with butterflies and moths.

She has been to many different schools because Caryn was forced to move by her so-called father whenever his relationships tend to fail significantly. Many friends she once had, now completely gone without keeping contact. Moving to different places, over and over, and over again… the cycle seemed endless. The apartment she lived at was recent and the last place she would move to and she hoped it stayed that way. She wasn't able to finish high school due to one of the moves and it made her have a great burden that she wasn't able to achieve her greater education and become an entomologist.

Several days passed, Caryn's father got into another drunken verbal fight against her when one of his date's made an excuse to leave early due to obvious reasons of her father being an alcoholic. Caryn had no choice to sneak out from the apartment once her “father” passed out drunk on the couch. His obnoxious snoring made Caryn hard to sleep and she has had enough. She decided to stop by at Marty's pub to grab something to eat since she hadn't eaten anything all day. The pain in her stomach grew when she could smell the freshly prepared wings fuming from the woods nearby. She grabbed her dark purple denim jacket and left. The woods was a fifteen minute detour walk to the pub since her legs were too tired to walk longer distances.

The cold summer’s evening touched her face as she peacefully strolled through the forest, hearing the crunching of dead leaves underneath her. The echoing hoots from the owls surrounded the isolated wooden area along with barely audible sounds of crickets. When almost to her destination, something didn't feel quite right for her as one of her ears ringed, a low buzzing eerie sound. She turned her head over her shoulder, felt someone or something was behind her. Instead she saw nothing.

Shrugged and claimed herself that her mind was playing tricks, blaming the lack of sleep the other night. Caryn stumbled upon the pub a short few steps away, and saw a familiar person cleaning the wooden countertops. An older gentleman around his late 50's, had an old fashioned curled mustache with graying brunette hair with a neat comb over. Wore his usual outfit with a black top that paired well with his gray undershirt. Marty looked up and saw one of his favorite customers inching by.

“Hey, kid. you look like you're starvin’. How about I whip up your usual?” the friendly barkeep happily shouted as he made a beckoning hand gesture.

“Hey, Marty…slow night, huh? Caryn said tiredly but brought up a warm smile.

“Yeah, Wednesdays are usually slow but at least it's not like Saturdays, those college frat punks always make a mess on my property… always love cleaning up after their mess” Marty said sarcastically along with a laugh

As he finished his sentence, he gave Caryn a fresh small basket of extra hot buffalo wings with blue cheese on the side and extra fries as a complimentary extra from Marty.

Marty while filling up Caryn's usual beverage, root beer, he stated “I'm still quite surprised you ain't afraid of walkin’ those woods at night…heard rumors people gettin’ missing on the daily”.

“Missing?” Caryn replied

“Yeah, like some UFO or alien be snatching those poor folk outta nowhere. Some paranoid nutcase came by one night claimin’ he saw some tall dude who was taller than a small buildin’. Sayin’ he had no face…geez, what kind of drugs these kids are getting into. Marty said as he carefully placed her drink next to her food.

“Trust me, I encountered them a lot.” Caryn jokingly remarked and Marty chuckled along with her.

“Indeed, and sorry to hear about what happened…you've been through Hell and back, kid” Marty said in a slightly saddened tone.

Caryn shrugged a bit “No worries, Marty. I'll find another job somehow…” her tone was almost depressed since she knew it would be impossible.

“That's the spirit, kid. When I was your age, I strived and fought my way through many obstacles and here I am, owning this beauty here for thirty-five n’ countin’.” Marty pats on her shoulder, congratulating for her positive response.

After finishing up her meal, she reached to pocket to pay but Marty stopped her “Hey, kid. Ya had a rough week, how about I cover ya for tonight?” Marty insisted.

Caryn was flattered and enjoyed her free meal from Marty. An hour passed, she said her farewells to Marty as she walked on back to the path back to the apartment. This time, the feeling became stronger but she ignored it as she claimed to herself that her head was playing tricks again from lack of sleep.

She got back and silently opened the door, her father still passed out on the couch. She slowly shaked her head and walked past him. The look of anger and disappointment on her face as she cringed by his presence. The smell of hard liquor fumigated the living room.

She went inside her room, messy but clothes were well kept in her dresser drawer. Her purple bed laid aside the wall next to the small window where the pale moonlight gleamed through the dusty glass pane.

On her bed was a pink stuffed bear her mother gave to her when she was ten years old, the last time she ever saw her…

Not only was her father a drunk and hopeless romantic, he showed his abusive side toward her mother in the past. He threatened to falsey press charges against her mother and labeled her as a bad parent on occasion. When in reality, she was the sweetest person you would ever meet.

She went away out of fear, which Caryn slowly learned over time about the truth.

Which sickened her even more.

She got back into bed, and looked at the window for a brief moment before she slowly drifted off to sleep.

The dream…was you might expect from her.

Dreamt she was choking and strangling her father to death in the middle of the woods, while having a look of bliss and enjoyment on her face. Caryn always dreamt of it, almost every…single…night.

But the dream was different, after she did the deed, a male figure watched her from a distance. She couldn't tell who or what was standing there. It wasn't the tall figure like Marty had mentioned before. Instead, a brown hooded figure. He wore a pair of amber colored goggles, mostly covering his eyes and part of his forehead with shaggy brown hair. He was wearing a face guard, looked to be cloth, and looked to have a snowy pale face underneath.

He watched on at her, then turned around and walked away, while twitching and slightly ticking…

Caryn woke up abruptly in a cold sweat from the dream and gazed at the window across from her… The window was opened, not too opened for someone to creep into but wide enough to push something through it.

Caryn got up and slowly walked over to see what's lying before her above the window to the floor below it.

There laid a machete…

The blade was short but new and sharp to the edge, the handle fitted well with her tight grip.

She looked at the window once more, the woods across the apartment complex, there's a tall ominous figure. Lurked between the trees surrounding him.

Caryn couldn't make out his face from far away, if he ever had one.

Loud ringing pierced through her ears, an unbearable headache swelled up her mind. She looked away and the pain ceased, the ringing slowly faded.

Machete still in her grip…the inner desire she kept inside her for so long had quickly been brought up. The burning hatred boiling within her veins tensed as it made her grip tighter to the newly equipped weapon.

Her expression went from confusion to…oddly calm and content

It's like calling out to her, letting her finish what she couldn't do before. Her eyes looked at the blade and then looked back at the window before turning around and leaving her room.

Her father slowly tried to get up from his drunken slumber…but instantly met his end when his head got cleaned off from the neck from his once daughter of his. The machete sliced through like warm butter from the dish. She never felt anything better… The flesh sliced through cleanly, without leaving any rough edges as blood gushed out from the severed neck like a broken water fountain. She slashed off the limbs away from the torso as they split apart, chopped off every single piece from the butchered corpse. dark blood splattered on the walls and floors like unveiling an art piece.

When she finished up her act of content violence, she cleaned up the gorey mess she caused and threw away his decapitated head to the local lake; earlier, she dragged his oversized body parts in a garden trash bag to the place where it was being buried.

The head submerged to the lake, the body buried six feet deep as she carried a shovel along with her.

Her father used to work with landscaping before he got fired and became an alcoholic.

After she did what she had to do, she sat by the lake, being relaxed and at peace. For the first time in years. While having her head down as she smiled. Until…She felt an eerie but calm presence standing behind her. A tall, dark shadow loomed over her as a pale white boney hand laid comfortably on her left shoulder. But she didn't mind the unexpected visit…

She's just glad the torture…is finally over. as She looked up, her face now covered by a purple mask with enormous dark eyes with a jagged black smile. Both the mysterious figure and Caryn suddenly vanished without a trace.

#creepypasta #slenderman #ticci toby

#Creepypasta #Slenderman #Ticci Toby #Crazy Caryn

[a-garden-of-zinnia]

Cato H. ~ The Seam

We got a Cato Hadley imagine, ya'll.

TW: Swearing, canon-typical violence

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

    .Y/N's POV.

    Wow. The Hunger Games. Never thought I'd end up here. But then again, I also never thought I'd befriend a boy who gained muscle from baking and was named after bread.

    Everyone here (The capital people, the president, the game maker, the careers, and our capital escort, Effie) made it seem like it was such an honor to be a part of the games, but honestly, I just want to go home. I have my family, Katniss, Primrose, and Gale, waiting for me at home. Plus, my mom. I don't want to be here for pretty obvious reasons. Yet, here I am, in The Hunger Games, in a training center, shooting arrows at the heart of a bright colored dummy.

-.-.-.-

        I was, standing on a pedestal, heart pounding wildly in my chest, waiting for the signal to run.

    I already knew Peeta would try to grab a bag and weapons, but I really didn't care and bolted straight for the woods. Once I was far enough away, I grabbed a bunch of tree branches and sharpened them into make-shift spears.

     But then I heard it.

    The terrifying Ariana-Grande-Like screams of the I-Can't-Climb-A-Tree people.

    Otherwise known as Marvel, Glimmer, Cato, and Clove. The careers.

    I mean, not gonna lie here, Cato is kind of fine, but that's besides the point. They're trying to kill me. So I did the first thing that any normal human would do when encountering the careers and climbed the nearest tree. I got at least thirty feet up before the careers got to me, and when I looked down, I saw... PEETA?! WHAT THE HELL MAN?! I THOUGHT WE WERE BREAD BUDDIES?! Whatever.

    Before I knew it, Glimmer was trying, and miserably failing, to shoot me with her goddamn arrows, and Cato was climbing after me.

    Obviously, these are the I-Can't-Climb-A-Tree people were talking about, so he obviously fell only about 10 feet up, but I still climbed farther.

     And, obviously, Peeta, being the back-stabbing asshole that he is, told them to wait for me to come down.

    You know what?! FUCK YOU, PEETA. We were supposed to be bREAD BUDDIes!

    Eventually, the careers went to sleep, and I soon followed their actions and layed down, but I couldn't seem to close my eyes for more than ten seconds.

-.-.-.-.

When the sun came up, I noticed three things.

1.) There was a little girl, Rue, from district 11, staring at me from another tree. She pointed at something. A tracker-jacker nest just above the careers for me to cut down. Thanks, Rue. She can replace Peeta, now :).

2.) I had a sponsor gift on the branch above me, which looked like just a small metal tin.

3.) Cato was staring into my soul from the tree next to mine.

    I almost screamed when I saw Cato  but quickly stopped myself. He looked into my eyes and, without hesitation, stuck his hand out to me. He was holding three small knives.

    I stared at him for a second before he spoke.

    "You want 'em or not, Seam?" He said, sticking his hand out farther towards me and motioning up to the tracker-jacker nest.

    I slowly grabbed them, I began to cut away at the top of the hive while Cato and Rue watched from their respective places.

    I got a few stings around my neck, but I eventually cut through the top of the hive, which fell onto the careers and Peeta. They all managed to get away, though.

    All except one, at least.

    Glimmer, the girl from district one, was almost instantly killed by the stings, and she went limp on the ground as a cannon sounded, and the tracker-jackers began to fly away.

    I jumped down the tree and grabbed the nearest rock.

    I began to smash at Glimmer's hand with the smooth stone and crack after crack her fingers snapped. After a few seconds, they were all broken, but the stings must have gotten to me because the last thing I was was the bow in my hand, and Cato shaking me.

    Peeta ran at us and shouted. "Y/N! Y/N, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! LEAVE! Y/N?!"

    Then... I went limp.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

(A/N) Well, that sucked :D! Not proofread, because I hated this one. Also, Y/N, Gale, Katniss, and Primrose aren't related, just really close. But this one was like actually really shitty.

Love ya'll to bits,

♡Graysin♡Zinnia♡

Word Count: 798

[odd1tief4ithburd3n]

idk but dammek be doing some wild shit to xefros i stg man... put surveillance cameras in xefros's hive WHICH XEFROS DOESN'T KNOW ABOUT???? so chances are dammek knows what xefros is doing all the fucking time so he can blackmail him whenever he wants, or never make xefros feel like he can get away with things.

but its also like, im pretty sure its implied dammek straight up calls xefros stupid, useless, annoying, etc. escpecially when xefros does something "wrong". forces xefros to sleep on the cold floor with ABSOLUTE 0 EXPLANATION??? can you imagine having someone yell and force you to sleep on the floor and they dont even give a explanation like bruh.

then theres the stealing xefros's things..? like he "borrows" them but never gives it back. makes xefros his personal slave essentially by making him clean his hive and forcing him to do butler tasks,, but dammek insists its to help xefros and prepare him. (which is like????? i feel like these are some shit excuses)

i feel like because xefros was raised with dammek since a young age he has just been repeatedly had these toxic beliefs etched into his brain and xefros is convinced its normal + that xefros is lucky.

also implied dammek kind of... isolates xefros from everyone else too? so xefros cant even get interaction outside of dammek really unless dammek approves of it, so how tf is xefros supposed to have any options to leave??? so xefros is kind of. stuck with dammek.

everyone keeps denying it and saying dammek had no play in making xefros feel suicidal but i stg it plays a HUGE part. this is someone ur supposed to trust, and xefros looks up to dammek so much- only for dammek to treat him like complete and utter shit. of course xefros feels like a failure when dammek calls him one.

HONESTLY the biggest shock for me personally is the fandoms reaction to this. this fandom has normalized abusive dynamics so much they will go through any loophole to try and say "its not that bad! its just 'complicated'!" like nah xefros is literally traumatized by dammek lets not lie about this shit yknow LOL

ONG YES?? i don't get how abuse got normalize and call them "toxic" yaoi and it hella weird,a pretty shitty excuse to not gonna lie

i don't like how dammek treat xefro as a person because he doesn't deserve it,he never was.I think what dammek did to him was already affect inside his head so he think it a "good" thing but honestly it never was,it sad

i just hope in the future when xefro realize what dammek did to him is bad so he can live the life he deserves without dammek into it so he can be happy and free with joey!!:D

[lostonehero]

Fuck it

Werewolf Martin

Martin knew he was fucked, it's been a week since he's been trapped in this damn apartment by this worm woman. He might of fucked up even more when he finally noticed his calender. This was so stupid that he prepared for this, but it was a freaky worm creature. He growls low and haunting. The sun was going down soon, and his landlord won't be happy in the slightest. What about the other people here. He especially got this place because it was cheap and nobody cared who came and went.

"L-look, please leave me a-alone." Martin pressed himself against his front door bracing against the thumps. "It's almost sunset."

He heard a mocking laugh. "Afraid of the dark? Listen to our sweet song, let it consume you join us, Martin."

Martin groaned. That isn't what he meant at all, but should he feel bad about what he was going to do? He didn't have control when he was hungry and he was trapped and this door won't hold him. He had two hours to convince this creature to leave, and he didn't exactly have his phone to call for help.

Time moved quickly after he finally made his decision. He could come up with a cover story. He's done it before, and hell, his mom never figured out what happened to him as a teen. He will have to get new clothes and explain the weight loss but fuck it.

"L-ast!" Martin was never good at counting his time as his words are cut off with a growling scream. Bones shifting and cracking fur covering his body. Then it's too quiet, and the thumping against the door seemed to laugh and get more violent until....

A loud blood curling howl and the door were broken into splinters. The worms did nothing to the giant wolf creature with red fur with streaks of black. The wolf growled and gave no warning when it charged and bit into the hive of a woman. Blood rot and worms were sprayed. The wolf bared its teeth and ran out of the complex.

.......

"Any news on Martin?" Sasha hums, looking over Tim, who was scrolling through his phone.

"Not since the beginning of the week." Tim shrugs. "I know double boss gave him sick leave even if he told us through text."

"I'm worried about the big guy he- " Sasha is cut off by stomping feet and gasping breath.

"I'm - I'm uh back." It was Martin. The man seemed to loom over them more so than normal his soft curves seemed to be replaced with muscular angles. His red hair was a mess on the top of his head, and his clothes seemed to hang on him. "Sorry I didn't mean to be gone so long."

"Geez Marto, you alright." Tim looks at him with wide eyes. "Some stomach bug you had looked at you."

Sasha gasps and gets up. "Martin, you look pale. Are you alright? You shouldn't come back if you are still sick."

Did Jane use his phone? Probably Martin sighs he needed a lie or half truth. "There was a massive break in at my flat, and it seems they used wild animals. The police are still investigating, and uh, I didn't just want to stay there while they investigate. A lot of stuff was ruined, nothing stolen. I don't think but I need a new door."

"Fucking hell Martin why come into work?" Tim stared at the taller man with a open mouth.

"They uh broke my phone so I couldn't explain to Elias what happened." Martin looked away with a blush.

"Jesus Martin." Sasha sighs. "Come on I'll come with you to explain things to Elias and then Jon."

"Oh, uh, thank you." Martin gives a nervous smile. "It's just been hectic."

"Oh sweetie, how about we make some tea after." Sasha hums. "Tim can pay for drinks later."

"I did not agree to anything!" Tim huffs but has a smile on his lips. "Glad to have ya back, big guy."

Martin's face was as red as his hair. "You guys thank you."

.......

Elias looked up from his desk and raised his brow in slight confusion, which isn't his normal Forte. "Martin, what a lovely surprise are you feeling better?"

Martin shifted and swallowed he wasn't nervous around his boss he kind of had the instinct to intimate him. Not that he would he needs this job and heaven forbid he finds out he lied. "Yeah, I was sick, and uh, then my flat was broken into with animals, and uh, I don't exactly have a phone at the moment." He recalls picking out broken pieces of his phone in his mouth the next morning.

Elias had that confused expression on his face, but it quickly was covered up. "If you need more time off, I can give you..."

Martin quickly shook his head. "No, I uh sir I rather keep my mind off of that. I'll just get back to work then."

"Alright then. Just stay safe, Martin. we wouldn't want anything bad happening to you." Elias smiles and waves Martin out.

Martin sighs. "I think that went well."

"Come on, now we have to tell Jon." Sasha hums.

"Oh right yeah, tell Jon." Martin takes a breath. It's bad enough that he had a crush on his boss, but it's worse because his instincts agreed with him to the point where he couldn't exactly write off his feelings. He also knew Jon was a cat person, which didn't help him.

....

"Martin...." Jon narrowed his gaze to the taller man. He could see whatever sickness he had taken a heavy toll on the man. Then, to have a break in on top of that. Maybe he could let some of the unfortunate behaviors of the man go for the moment. "I am glad you've returned."

Martin gave a nervous smile. "Thank you sir uh Jon thank you, Jon." He shifts slightly. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

Jon nods his head. "I would like one, yes."

Martin nods and quickly exits.

Jon sighs and returns to his notes. He really shouldn't be so hard on the man, but it can't be helped.

......

They were fooling around while Jon, who rarely stepped out of his office, was out. Martin always did his best not to go to work or, at the very least, leave early on the nights of the full moon. He wasn't exactly lucky today, and maybe he was being a little aggressive when he was knocked into a wall. "Oh bloody hell."

"Oh fuck me." Tim gasps.

"Is that a tunnel?" Sasha stared at the Martin sized hole in the wall.

Martin groans he could see deep into the tunnels more so than the others, but he would never admit why to them. The smell hit him, and he knew that smell, but it was fresh, and his body didn't. No, his instincts screamed at him to follow it. "Guys, we shouldn't. Uh, we shouldn't be..."

"MARTIN!" Jon shouted, and Martin didn't flinch, and if they noticed, nobody said a word. "What the bloody hell... was....that...oh."

"Hey, so didn't know you had a spooky tunnel, boss man." Tim jokes, but everyone can see the curiosity in his eyes.

"That's supposed to be a solid wall." Jon mumbles, looking at Martin, who got up dusting himself off. Be nice, Jon. "Did you hit your head?"

"N-no. I'm fine but it's getting late and we shouldn't explore this now." Martin knew the sun wouldn't be down for another 3 hours, but he also knew he couldn't trust public transport to race against the night. He didn't grab Sasha fast enough when she stepped inside the tunnel.

"Properly spooky." Sasha chuckles using the flashlight on her phone. "Come on, we investigate this stuff all the time. Now we have one at our home base. A little urban exploration won't kill us." She bites her tongue, looking back at Tim.

Tim grabs a flashlight from his keychain. "I'm with Sasha. We are employees at the spooky place. Let's unearth some spooky secrets." He's already tugging Martin along. "Come on, big guy. You'll be our muscle." He jokes.

Jon follows the three. "I suppose I would like some hard evidence." He has a flashlight on his phone as well and follows them into the tunnels.

Martin somehow made his way to the front of the group and became the so-called guide. Against his sane mind, he was following that scent he picked up earlier, and he doesn't realize how long they've been in there.

"Hey Mateo, you sure you don't need a torch?" Tim was to his side.

"O-oh yours is fine enough." Martin internally groaned he forgot to look normal. He has pretty good night vision thanks to being that, along with other enhanced senses. Speaking of which, his hand perked out, grabbing the back of Jon's sweater. "Not that way." And as if on cue, the path seemed to shift, and a wall was in place of that open tunnel.

"Dude, are you like psychic?" Tim blinks. "How did you know?"

"....smelled wrong..." Martin mumbles.

Jon blinks. "How did a wall just move out of nowhere? What even are these tunnels?"

Sasha hums and points her light up, highlighting a name. "That's a familiar name."

"Robert smirk." Tim sighs. "That guy seems to be everywhere."

Martin barely glances at Tim's phone. It was getting too late, and he knew he couldn't turn back. It was too late to backtrack he really hoped he wouldn't hurt them. He jumps at a soft touch on his arm.

"Martin, relax." Jon sighs. "I wanted to thank you for not letting me get trapped."

Martin smiles softly, and Jon swore he could see a faint glow from the larger man's eyes. "O-of course Jon, we shouldn't split up."

Jon nods. "Right, you are Martin."

They continue forward, and that familair dread was settling in Martin's core. The smell was getting stronger, and he didn't know what the state of the body would be in. He didn't know if he would be in control when... he clutched his chest in pain and fell to his side. "Bloody fuck." He gasps. He was too late, and to his left, he saw an open room and that body he was tracking.

"Martin!?" Sasha shouted as her light traveled over, revealing the large room and the dead body. She gasps and drops her phone.

Jon stared wide-eyed at the body. He's never seen a dead body before, let alone one with eyes that shouldn't still be intact.

The color drained out of Tim's face. "Holy shit."

Martin stumbled to his feet again. "Guys...." He covered his mouth, and his legs gave out with a heavy crack. He was growling, trying his best to fight this, but he knew it was futile.

"Martin, come on, get up." Jon reached out and touched Martin's shoulder. "We have to we have to report this and... and..." He felt the bone shift under Martin's skin and another loud crack.

Three pairs of eyes trained on Martin as he seemed to grow. Flesh pulled at his shifting bones and muscle. His clothes were ripped one by one as his body changed to that of a massive inhuman sized wolf.

Sasha knew she should run. She knew she shouldn't stare. Her feet felt like they were cemented to the floor. Her friend, sweet clumsy Martin, was something that was only in fantasy novels and bad romance movies.

Tim swallowed. "Easy there Martin, please tell me you're still Martin." He stepped back to the hard back of the stone tunnel.

Jon stared at the impossible. His coworker, his bumbling idiot and the sweetest man he ever met was not human. Those haunting blue eyes remained the same as he skulked closer. "Martin...?"

Martin growled and stepped closer and closer till he looked down at Jon. His hot breath came down on the shorter man. He bared his teeth for a moment before taking a long sniff. Drool dripped from his maw, and in an instant, a large heavy paw came down then...

Jon yelped and screamed, then started to laugh. "Martin! No stop, stop!" Martin pinned him to the floor, licking his face. He tried to push the lumbering wolf away, but his hands sunk into the soft fur. "S-stop! Wait, my glasses! MARTIN!"

Martin stopped and sat back, his tail thumping against the stone floor.

Sasha couldn't stop herself she approached, careful to avoid Jon on the floor. She reached her hand out on the soft fur. "YOU'RE SO FLUFFY!" She giggles as Martin licks her, making her curly hair stand up straight. "Tim, come here now. Please feel how soft he is."

Tim slowly approaches and is assaulted with the wolf's tongue. "Hey, buy me dinner first." He chuckles and scratches between his ears when he lays down. "Look at you, sweetest thing in these tunnels."

Jon gets up, barely getting any drool off his face and sweater. At least he could see since his glasses weren't broken. "He's not dangerous?"

Martin rolls over to show his belly.

"Jon, that's the universal sign that a dog likes you." Sasha squeals, rubbing his belly. "It's so soft."

"Is he still in there?" Jon's question created enough tension the room grew silent except for the panting from Martin.

Tim frowns. "He should be alright if the myths are right in the morning. I mean...WHOA" Martin has flung Tim to his back and then grabbed Sasha and Jon to sit on his back. "Hey buddy..."

A loud growl shut up any other comments. Jon held on for his life as Martin began to run hard and fast. Sasha was laughing, and Tim giggled. They exited the tunnels into the starless sky.

"Woooo!" Sasha giggles. "We're free!"

Tim chuckles, gets down, and helps Sasha down as Jon falls into the mud. "Well, good news, he's friendly, but that doesn't answer anything about him being still in there."

Jon pulls himself to his feet and sighs. "I hope he's still in there. He would make a horrible assistant stuck like this." He reached out slowly, and Martin sat down and lowered his head for Jon. "I must admit I am thankful he is friendly."

"My flat accepts pets." Tim speaks up. "Hey, don't look at me like that! How else are we going to find out if he goes back to normal in the morning?"

"Tim has a point, and I don't know where we are at the moment." Jon frowns at the lock on his hand. "Stop your insistent licking."

Sasha looks around. "Wait, I know where we are, and we're actually right by Tim's flat." She points to the sign above them, and Tim hums in agreement.

"I suppose would it be too much to ask to use your shower?" Jon sighs covered in mud and wolf slobber.

Tim snickers. "You can use it, boss. You need it more than all of us. Actually, I would say Martin could use it, but he's way too big." He hums. "Follow me."

They walk for only 20 minutes till they reach Tim's flat. He luckily kept his keys on him and opened his door. It took a lot of coaxing from Jon to get Martin inside he seemed to like him the best. Now, after that hassle, everyone git cleaned, and Tim made a small dinner for everyone and gave Martin some ground beef.

Martin was curled up in the corner watching everyone.

Sasha broke the silence. "What if he doesn't turn back?"

"I can keep him here." Tim frowns. "But he should be back to normal, right? What if this was from that animal attack in his apartment complex?"

"It was a month ago, and it would line up with the full moon." Jon returns his gaze to Martin, who was staring at him. "I well if my knowledge on folktales is correct then when the sun breaks he should be back to normal. However, it's quite iffy on if he would remember any of this."

"I mean, at least it's not like twilight." Sasha tries to joke, but all of them were tired and had different looks of work on their features.

"We should head to bed." Tim shifts. "Jon, you can have the couch. Sasha, are you cool sharing my bed?"

Sasha nods. "Jon, scream if something happens."

Jon nods, accepting the blanket, and lays down on the soft couch. He watches Martin get up and walk close to him and lays down next to the couch, making it impossible for Jon to get up without alerting the wolf. "Right. Good night Martin."

........

Martin groans and stretches. He blinks, rubbing his eyes as sunlight spills into his vision. He cracks his back and sighs. He looks around. When did he end up inside? He doesn't recognize this place, and the last thing he could recall was that they were in the tunnels, and they found a body. Oh God, did he kill them? Wait, wait... there wasn't clothing in his teeth, and he didn't feel like he had to cough something like normal when he did eat something he wasn't supposed to. He brushed himself off of the nonexistent dirt. He was naked as normal after a full moon, but he didn't have any spare clothes this time, and he really didn't know where he was.

Jon swallows, staring at Martin. He knows for a fact the man hasn't seen him. He had no idea Martin was muscular, let alone like that. He wasn't normally the type to stare or even enjoy someone's naked form, but something felt different. He cleared his throat, grabbing Martin's attention as he sat up and held out the blanket.

Martin blinks. "OH BLOODY FUCKING HELL!" He shouts ripping the blanket from Jon then covers himself then his face dying from embarrassment.

The sound of heavy footsteps of someone running then a soft gasp. "Martin?" It was Sasha. "Martin, you're back to normal."

Tim rushed behind her. "Martin buddy, you're ok!"

Martin groans and hides under the blanket.

.......

A pair of sweatpants was the best Tim could do for Martin since Martin was the biggest out of all of them. "Are you ok?"

Martin sighs. "I mean, I'm fine. Thank you for the pants, though." He frowns as all eyes were on him. "I uh to make things clear I've been like this since I was a teenager."

"It wasn't the animal attack at your flat?" Jon raised his brow.

Martin shook his head. "I may have lied about who was the animal in the attack, and in my defense, Jane Prentiss was trapping me in my apartment with her worms. I warned her, and she laughed at me. I'm normally better at keeping track of this, but I mean things happened. I was puking up these silver worms for like a week, I mean, they were dead, but they made me sick. I also accidently ate my phone because I was picking that out of my teeth. I mean, I don't really remember anything that happens during the whole wolf out thing. I get flashes sometimes and maybe dreams, but that's about it. I think... no, I definitely killed her, but in my defense, she trapped me in my apartment for a week, used my phone, and tried to fill me with worms."

"That wasn't a stomach virus, but you looked so..." Tim trails off.

"It's a side effect if I don't eat properly. Do you have any idea how painful it is to turn, let alone how much calories you burn in the process? It's a lot. I mean, I've been dealing with this for a long time, and I don't tend to tell people because they look at me like I'm crazy or think I'm a furry." Martin throws his hands up. "I'm so sorry for whatever I did, I tried to get out of going into the tunnels because the full moon, but you guys dragged me along, and it was too late, and I uh... wait, how did we get out? Also, who was the dead body?"

"We rode you like a horse." Sasha chuckles. "And uh, right, the dead body. To be fair, you did turn into a giant wolf."

"I uh good, I'm glad I helped." Msrtin looks down. "Please, I uh, please don't tell anyone."

"For a price." Tim smiles.

Martin shrinks back. "A price?"

"Yeah, you have to let at least one of us watch you." Tim smiles wider. "Just to keep you out of trouble."

"I would, but uh, I already have someone who helps me." Martin flinched as Sasha slams her hands on the able.

"Who!" Sasha shouts.

Jon thinned his lips as he felt something at the edges of his mind that he refused to acknowledge as jealousy. "It would be helpful to know who else knows." He tried his best to sound kind and not annoyed.

Martin rubs his arm. "An old friend of mine from high school kind of. Her name is Joan she's very kind and has a lot of land that's a forest she lets me roam in. She keeps to herself and doesn't like strangers."

"Oh well, you have to introduce us." Jon hums.

"That will be difficult she really is only up at night. I should probably tell her I'm ok...wait I left my phone on my desk." Martin groans.

Tim chuckles. "We'll be there regardless. You can pick it up then."

"You're right." Martin sighs. "I think I have spare clothes there."

"Why?" Sasha raised her brow.

"Uhhhh, so I prepared for the worst-case scenario wherever I work. I'm a little paranoid." Martin looks away.

"That's actually really good." Jon smiles. "It's good to be prepared."

Martin's face lights up.

[thesaintofpatience]

⭐ director's commentary game for not just a river in egypt :)

Oh bless you <3

Okay, some moments from not just a river in egypt (aka, 'Mercymorn safetylocks Augustine's dick), my totally indulgent ~10k PWP written for no other reason than because I wanted to write some pre-Lyctorhood Canaan House shenanigans. Long-ish so below the cut...

“And how is the Eighth House?” “Thriving, naturally.” “Is it?” Augustine’s eyes glittered. “I’ve heard it’s become the most wretched little hive of dogma, all penitence and parables. Mind you, it’s done Fifth House tourism no end of good; we see pilgrims off your way and welcome them right back afterwards, cleansed of their sins and ready to top themselves up.” “Really?” Mercy sniffed. “I haven’t heard anything about the Fifth House at all.” “That’s a shameless lie, my child, for which I will forgive you.” “The day that you are in a position to forgive me anything, you nasty little waste of carbon—” Mercy passed Augustine a clipboard; he held out a labcoat for her to shrug into, “may we all collapse into ruin.” “Amen.” Augustine dug in his pocket for a cigarette

Mercy and Augustine pre-Lyctorhood! They argue incessantly but they're colleagues, they're professionals, they'll bicker and they're a well-oiled team. And Augustine continues to be a Fifth House snob, which is always so much fun to write.

“Ah—fuck—you’ve been busy,” John murmured—he did that, the talking, burbling to himself absent-mindedly through most activities up to and including having his cock sucked. “You’re looking for—mm—what, a good grade in sucking dick? Something that’s normal to want and possible to a-ah—”

John as someone who lives only to amuse himself is so dear to me.

“Sweet as,” John murmured

Likewise, John with all his NZ turns of phrase. One day I will fit 'chur' into a fic.

He knew which room was his, and he knew Alfred would be across the hall. Gideon snored like a planet-boring drill and the only person who’d voluntarily sleep next door to him was Titania, who could sleep through anything with complete serenity. Nigella would always select a room closest to the stairwell on the basis that she was incorrigibly nosy and wanted to hear who was coming up or downstairs with whom, and Cassy would be next door to her, albeit they’d both end up sleeping in Nigella’s room and using Cassy’s for storage.

I put serious thought into mapping this out to figure out which rooms would go where in a set of 10 rooms arranged 5 on each side but without actually adding a diagram into the fic it was impractical - nevertheless I had fun with the idea that they all know each other so well that these sorts of calculations become second- nature

“I, ah—good evening—look, sorry, I’m actually looking for—” Pyrrha raised the other eyebrow and Augustine’s mouth closed with an audible snap. She visibly appraised him—one slow, up and down sweep of her eyes that made Augustine’s cock twitch valiantly in his trousers. Then—horror of horrors—she nudged the door slightly more open in evident invitation. Augustine considered it. He really, really did. Of all the opportunities he’d been presented with over his life on this side of the Resurrection, this was one that hadn’t come along before and had been noted by its absence, and even now, knowing that it would open him up to nothing more than frustration and anguish, he gave it serious thought. “Another night?” he suggested with his most winning smile. Pyrrha snorted, flashed him an all-too-knowing grin, and closed the door in his face.

Augustine's greatest tragedy is that he never gets to make good on his crush on Pyrrha, and it was just great fun to exacerbate that in this fic

“No. Because you’re a whore.” That was no less hurtful for being true. Mercy hopped off the desk (her feet didn’t quite hit the ground when she was sitting on it, which was oddly endearing) and stalked closer

I know you're on this train with me but Mercy is 5'0", I know this to be true, I saw it in a dream

The thing was—she wasn’t wrong. There was something about her eyes on him, the weight of her attention; the physical stimulus was anything but pleasant but the context was everything, and it was all he could do not to touch himself as she manhandled him.

Likewise, Augustine being so much more interested in attention than physical stimulus.

“Your laboratory conditions leave something to be desired. But for what it’s worth, John did say it was a lovely piece of work,” he said grudgingly. Mercy scoffed, but her cheeks went a little pinker.

Teacher's pet Mercy here courtesy of flemeth's unbelievable Disco Elysium fic which burrowed its way into my brain and never came out. Also John always being in the room, even when he isn't.

Thank you for this ilu <3

[crimsonfluidessence]

Prompt 28: Deleterious

There were quite a few things Esredes did not like to read in a letter sent to him by a familiar acquaintance, or anyone, really. And 'I have come into possession of a Dark Knight soulstone' was in fact, one of them. "Let's talk downstairs," Esredes said when the acquaintance arrived to the meeting. "It'll be private enough for our purposes." "You make it sound like we're breaking the law." "Your letter mentioned something illegal in it." "Hey," the Maelstrom soldier said as he followed Esredes downstairs, "I was a sellsword, not gonna pretend I respect the sanctity of the courts but what, are soul stones illegal now?" "The one of a Dark Knight? Absolutely, if you're going to stay around here." Esredes took a seat at one of the banquet tables. If you needed to meet someone in an ambiguous location, The Hive- his new name for the manor Bee Club was hosted in- had you covered. "Do you not know what that thing is truly capable of?" "Teaching you how to leverage a heavy sword and using your emotions to scare corrupt knights and nobles?" Esredes paused at this. "...Well, I can't exactly say that's an incorrect way of putting it. But it's downplaying the severity of it." Leon tilted his head as his eyes darted around the ceiling. "I'm guessing this piece of rock it's considered a lot more than just learning tool like Skysteel has been passing around?" He looked directly at Esredes.

Somehow, Esredes resisted the urge to sigh. "All right. So I'm taking it you don't know what a Dark Knight truly is, yes?" "Well in Dalmasca they're psychopathic knights with umbral magics. But I'm not using umbral magics so I assume what you're thinking about is different. The stories you hear from outside Ishgard are about a bunch of rogue knights who clean house whenever some temple knight or priest puts their hand on a maiden. Usually impaling people with darkness... but not like void darkness. Not sure how it works exactly, not gonna lie. Been letting the stone do most of the work." "You've been using it already- good gods, stop." Esredes said, throwing his hands up. "Don't do that. Do not just rush in to this kind of magic with no idea what it is or does." He throws his arms out in opposite directions. "Aren't you a ranked military officer? Surely you have more common sense than you act like you don't have??" As per usual, Esredes quickly worked himself up. It took a couple minutes of conversation for him to settle down again. "I'll admit I don't know all that much about you. But consider this advice from a concerned acquaintance. You mention an incident- I can read between the lines. You lost control of yourself, yes?" Leon looked away. "Before the soul stone. I hurt people because of some... issues stemming from a group I signed up with after the war... After the storm settled, the dark knight gave me his stone. This is why I said what I said earlier about getting rid of it being a bad idea." "A Dark Knight gave you a stone but explained nothing about it or how to use it." "He told me that it'd help keep... whatever is wrong with me from hurting others. I haven't heard from him in months outside of occasionally crossing paths for a few minutes at most. I got issues, Rosemond. I'm not gonna pretend I'm a normal functional person but the knight is off doing some self reflection journey and isn't able to mentor me with it. Something he did is making me feel bad about doing my job. I care when I didn't before and whatever was inside my head making me angry all the time has calmed down." "Then he shouldn't have given it to you in the first place." Esredes remarked. "You cannot rush into dangerous magic without a mentor. Nor can you teach other vulnerable people like yourself anything about it. You will get yourself and all of those people you mentioned killed or arrested or worse if you use that soulstone. So. There is a much simpler, much less dangerous solution you are completely overlooking." "Which is?" "I'm a part time counselor. And I know how to cure peoples' problems with keeping control. Get rid of the stone safely and throw away the thought of teaching anyone else about it. If you need to sort out your problems, then fine. I will help instead, if it means preventing a long line of potential misery." Leon showed hesitance with 'head doctors', but Esredes simply offered a five-minute sample and it turned into a long and emotional conversation. And at the end of it, he reached into his jacket and took out a Dark Knight Soulstone attached to a chain necklace. "You hold onto it till next time. I actually haven't parted with it since it did 'fix' me before. Just... don't get rid of it... yet." "...I won't," Esredes said as he took the necklace by the chain. "I'll keep it somewhere safe."

Leon wasn't the first, and Esredes knew he wouldn't be the last. They came to him in counseling with a dark entity taking them over or making them speak. They showed no mercy to tempered parties with that all-consuming dark magic. His beloved and trusted right-hand confessed to him once that it was slowly taking him over and making him more cruel when he took out his targets. Esredes never understood this phenomenon, and he didn't think he ever would. Sure, it was an evil boogeyman and fairy tale when he was a knight, but seeing it firsthand as a harrier was still a dance of fear and awe that never quite went away. When he knew it was being used to protect him and his, he felt safe. But watching the way it consumed others, and the way it could simply erase people from existence outright- Esredes shuddered each time he thought about it. And so he never trusted a Dark Knight on the spot. Why such dark and unhealthy magic existed, he didn't know- but even as he relied on it to keep him and his safe, he could never be certain if it was truly worth the risk of what it did to others.

He could feel, faintly, each time he handled something like that soulstone, the abyss calling to him. It reached out with gentle, caressing hands, beckoning him to manifest that swirling storm within him. And each and every time, he ignored it. He would never get away with having such dark power, and he knew it would consume him instantly. Esredes would never be a Dark Knight, but at least he could ensure others didn't fall to its trap. They would control the abyss, or else they wouldn't get to channel it at all.

[asteroid-gardens]

Darksun au but its my girl

Barty being Vada- having a father that just doesnt do enough, being sorounded by death and acting chill but is actually really scared, wanting a normal childhood but for some reason something always goes wrong

James being Thomas J. - a only child with overprotective parents, always pushing the limits of what people say he can do, always a dreamer and excited for the future

so what im thinking is that they would be a little older then in My Girl -instead of 11 they would be 13 or 14

at first barty would find james weird but eventually they would become really good friends, with barty being kinda mean but thats just how he shows his love (like vada), they would tell eachother everything and they deffently did the blood brothers thing like in the movie

James starts crushing on barty but keeps his feelings hidden because this is one of the first friendships hes had. then one day barty kisses james- in the willow tree ofc- and they start this sort of cautious relationship, hidden kisses, shoulder brushes, ect. Even without "all that romantic stuff" they still were like two halfs of the same soul- or soulmates, whatever you wanna call it.

barty had a necklace with his moms ring on it which was really important to him - like Vada's moodring- but the chain broke when they were exploring the woods and he lashed out at james because it was James' idea to go into the woods. So even though they were fighting james still went into the woods to try and find the necklace because he knew how much it ment- and frankly he would do anything for barty.

Just as james finds the necklace hes not paying attention and walks straight into a bee hive -he was alergic to bees. he trys to run but there are too many bees and sadly he dies. (why do i do this to myself 😭)

cut to the funeral where barty sits on the stairs and watches as people say things about james, but only the james they knew and never the real one. Barty knew that james loved kiwis. Barty knew that james couldnt ride a bike but still said he could. Barty knew that james wanted to be an acrobat. Barty knew james.

tears flodded his eyes as he ran down the stairs and into the room where james' body lie. He saw James' face covered in tiny bee stings.

"funny joke, Jams" he whispered, "everyone belives you, you can get up know."

he knew that james was dead but he couldnt bring himself to belive it, why would james leave him?

A hand rested on bartys shoulder "Bartimus" it was Euphemia Potter, she was smiling but it was a sad smile, a i-know-you-loved-him-but-he-is- gone-now smile. For some reason, maybe grief, that made him angry, and he wanted to lash out, to scream.

But the anger didnt last long and instead he was filled with this horribe saddness that made him wonder if he was going to die right next to james.

"Wanna go tree climbing, Jams?" he sobbed, grabbing the cold skin of the other boy. He turned his face to Euphemia, "his face hurts! and where are his glasses? he cant see without his glasses!" He was grabbed by his father as he and kicked and screamed, "put his glasses on!" he wailed, "put on his glasses! He was gonna be an acrobat!"

anyways yeah i think thats it T•T  



[lazyvase]

TMNT 2036

Partners In Slime

TMNT 2036 is my own incarnation of TMNT. I chose 2036 as the distance between 2036 and 2012 is roughly the same as the distance between 2012 and 1987.

Now we get to talk about TMNT's second most iconic villain. But first, we have to talk about a highly respected one.

Ch'rell

The history of Dimension X is long and complicated. So I shall just keep it to the basics for now.

Dimension X is a separate plane of existence concurrent to normal reality. It was originally a purple-pink void before the Utroms found it. After some experimentation, they discovered that the dimension could be used to quickly travel long distances (like the Nether World in Minecraft). Thus, intradimensional travel was invented, which allowed never before seen exploration and discovery. Soon, the tech needed for intradimensional travel spread across the cosmos. In response, the Utrom began building bases and cities in Dimension X, and therefore gained substantial control over all interdimensional travel, lest someone use it for nefarious deeds. Eventually, a species known as the Neutrinos approached the Utrom, asking for sanctuary within Dimension X. The Utrom agreed, and the two species monitored Dimension X in unity. Much later, the Triceratons (after their own civil wars over their own fast travel technology) sought to join the Utrom and Neutrinos. The two species agreed, letting the Triceratons in. Together, the three species formed the X-Triad. A governing body that ruled Dimension X and watched over all intra-dimensional travel. The three species ruled in tandem and equality.

But not all were happy with that. Ch’rell, an Utrominon General, believed that only the Utrom should have control over Dimension X. He planned to stage a violent coup, exp’ell the other two species, and then use Dimension X to take over the cosmos.

Fortunately, the war with the X-Triad resulted in Ch’rell losing. However, Ch’rell and (most of) his followers managed to escape. Wherever he is, he’s busy planning his revenge.

Unfortunately for him, there’s one loose end he neglected.

Krang

Recently, I've been playing a lot of TMNT: Shredder's Revenge (10/10. Buy the DLC). And it's made me realize we haven't had a truly singular Krang for quite a while (at least on screen. IDW had one). Rise had a group. 2012 had a hive mind. 2003 had Ch'rell. The Micheal Bay movies are kinda derivative. And the Injustice 2 Krang was just a cameo. So for my iteration, I'd like to try a singular Krang again:

Krang always had a passion for building weapons. However, since the Utroms were mainly a pacifist species, his craftsmanship was not appreciated. Especially since his weapons were often sadistic, unethical, and immoral. Krang instead received the respect he desired from Ch’rell.

Krang became the chief scientist and right-hand man to Ch’rell. After Ch'rell went into hiding, Krang was left out to dry. A wanted Utrom fugitive, Krang fled to earth with his pet Kraathatrogon (2012), Milli. Krang's new plan is to lie low until the heat dies down, and then take his revenge on Dimension X.

Of course, being stuck on a planet with such limited technology makes things difficult. Not to mention that Krang needed a cover to avoid any suspicion and investigation.

Currently, he runs the Technodrome, the coolest arcade in NYC, as Craig. Craig bears a resemblance to his 1987 appearance. Bald head, red slides, red cargo shorts, yellow-button up. Krang's true form is a robot body housing him in its stomach with a protective pane of purple glass.

The Technodrome used to be a vehicle. Krang converted into a building once on earth. It still has its iconic eye and cannons sticking out of it though. The Technodrome is loved for its realism and exclusive entertainments. All the arcade cabinets in the Technodrome are unique, as they're all old tracking systems and combat consoles converted, rearranged, and reprogrammed by Krang. Little kids can take a ride on Milli, with parents believing it's a robotic train. Robotic Unicycles (1987) man the prize desk, with some of the prizes being the usual plushes and novelty toys. While some of the higher-end prizes are old weapons that Krang THINKS don't work anymore. For birthday parties, kids can expect a special appearance by Krang the Courageous: an inter-dimensional hero. For this "costume", Krang simply deactivates his Craig hologram disguise. The adults think that Craig merely puts on a robot costume, with a purple TV screen displaying a pink blob on his stomach. For laser tag, Krang converted some old blasters to harmless laser guns. Last and certainly least is concessions, no arcade would be complete without pizza. Unfortunately, the Technodrome’s pizza is disgusting. The only people who have ever liked it were 4 peculiar teenage boys.

Krang is able to power the Technodrome through the ooze milked from Milli. This ooze is a vital power source of Dimension X. Krang uses it to power all of his gadgets and technology, even his suit. And it tastes good too. At least to Utroms. When a creature from earth comes in contact with ooze, it results in rapid DNA degeneration, followed by rapid DNA regeneration. However, the regeneration is not equal. If one has some other kind of DNA on them, then their original DNA will intertwine with the other DNA. Resulting in mutants.

In the beginning, Krang's relation to the turtles is interesting. Once he finds out they are mutants, he's not sure what to do with them. The existence of mutants in the area is proof that Milli (and therefore Krang) are in the area. If the X-Triad Agents hunting him discover the turtles, they could discover him and arrest him. For now, Krang actively helps the turtles hide and blend in. But, he’s already making plans for when that isn’t viable anymore.

I don’t want to get too into specifics now, but I’ll briefly mention some important plotlines.

Krang will confront Ch’rell.

Krang will team up with Saki, and they’ll bicker akin to the 1987 incarnation.

And the biggest plotline is that pretty much every major character will get a job at the Technodrome at some point. This so far includes Leo, Raph, Donnie, Mikey, April, Casey, Splinter, Karai, Saki, and even Bishop. This is all done to reveal that not only is Krang an evil genius with a thirst for revenge, but he’s also kinda a shitty boss.

[vampy-bats]

Oh my gods, I colored and shaded something? What a surprise, it’s my DMC OC! I finished this while avoiding my missing schoolwork, so enjoy the fruits of my bad decisions

*Vergil and Rhiannon hate each other. I, the artist, do not hate Vergil and I think he’s neat. Vergil calls Rhi a wench, and Rhi calls Vergil Roi des Cons.

⬇️ backstory below if you care⬇️

First off, I headcanon that empusas work like real life ants. They have castes and an underground/Hell hive and are carnivorous.

Second, Rhiannon’s powers lie in blood-bending. She mostly used her own blood to grow blades from her skin, but she’s able to control any blood. She manipulates the life force within the blood rather than any physical substance. Rhiannon also stores blood she consumes in her skin like red and “worker” empusas do.

Third, I’m using the games as a time reference. The games still happen as canon here.

TLDR for the full backstory-

Rhiannon Valond is half empusa queen, half human. Dante ruins her family’s livelihood but it’s fine bc she found her bio dad in the process. Rhi searches for work for long enough that she moves to England. She did not anticipate encountering the man who almost killed her nor did she plan on falling in love with him.

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This is a long one and I’m not super confident in my writing, so bear with me.

Rhiannon came into existence when a French bio-demonologist decided to fuck around and find out. Dr. Blanchard (the scientist in question) doused himself in empusa drone pheromones and walked right into a hive with the intent to map it. He did not account for the fact that it was darker than a void in the hive, nor did he know the effects the pheromones would have. He was eventually rescued by devil hunters with little to no memory of the excursion.

A few years later, the empusa hive was revisited by devil hunters. This time, they had stumbled upon a human girl around 2 years old. She seemed completely normal except for a bright red forelock. The girl was named Rhiannon at the orphanage.

When Rhiannon was 13, demonic powers began to manifest in her. Her powers were left unchecked long enough to nearly kill someone before devil hunters were called again. Only one hunter answered the call: a man named Andre Valond.

Andre carried the belief that devils cannot cry, and that any being that cries has enough humanity to be saved. When Andre arrived at the foster home Rhiannon was in, she broke down into tears. Andre spared her life and took her under his wing. It wasn’t long before Rhiannon was officially adopted into the Valond family, finally gaining parents and three younger brothers.

The Valond family was sustained on the constant income from fending off the empusa hive. The French military caught wind of a certain legendary devil hunter from England. A letter lands on the desk of Devil May Cry. (c. DMC3)

Demonic steel clashes with blood-forged iron. Neither fighter can see the other with human eyes. Dante only can defend himself by his 6th sense. Whatever is attacking him is unlike anything he has ever fought before, but he knows he’s equally matched.

Dante catches an opening, pinning his attacker to the ground with his sword. It’s only then that Rhiannon de-triggers. Queue a dramatic speech that I shall not transcribe.

With her main source of income gone after Dante’s little Paris vacation, Rhiannon is forced to look elsewhere for work. She finds a position at an academic institution for controlling “test subjects”. Several assistants point out Rhiannon’s striking resemblance to their lead researcher. She doesn’t get to meet the man until someone finds out about what she can do.

Rhiannon receives special attention from Dr. Blanchard for being a devil hybrid, even becoming a test subject herself. He conducts several DNA tests to find out what kind of devil she could possibly be. Blanchard runs Rhiannon’s genetic markers through his data bank, completely forgetting his own was recorded for a previous project. The best possible matches for Rhiannon’s DNA is an Empusa Queen and Dr. Blanchard himself.

With no real way to prove it, Dr. Blanchard’s hypothesis becomes Rhiannon’s new truth. Her biological father is this man of science and her biological mother is a giant ant demon. How this combination occurred, no one would ever know. Rhiannon decided to keep the Valond family name, as she still considers Andre to be her dad.

Nothing lasts forever, and Blanchard’s team is forced to focus on new projects. Rhiannon loses her job a-fucking-gain and starts searching for hunting gigs. Rumors lead the now 27 year old woman to a tiny city in England. (c. 2007 anime)

Rhiannon finds her way to Bobby’s Cellar, where a certain white-haired man whistles from the bar. The blonde girl he’s with smacks him upside the head, earning a laugh from Rhiannon.

Dante and Rhiannon get on like oil and water at first. Rhi hates the way Dante never seems to take anything seriously. She despises the way he keeps so many damn secrets. And of course, all Dante can do is flirt and joke. Dante continuously tries to steer Rhi away from devil hunting, oblivious to the fact she’s done it her whole life. Things change the moment Dante first witnesses Rhiannon’s Devil Trigger in battle.

Fast forward a good 10 years (c. DMC 4), and Dante and Rhiannon had eloped. Neither had enough friends and family to have a large wedding, and they kept it on the down low. Somewhere in this time skip, Rhiannon lost her left leg above the knee, forcing her into retirement. They also have two kids, Leona and Percival (ages 3 years and 7 months respectively by the events of DMC 4).

After DMC 5, Rhiannon takes over Devil May Cry. Nico makes a fully functional brass leg for Rhi. The new prosthetic allows her to go back into devil-hunting again, although she’s rusty from so many years of retirement. (The brass leg is a reference to the mythological empusas).

[gerogerigaogaigar]

The Cure - Disintegration

Drawn out loving emotional splendor exudes from every pore of The Cure's undeniable magnum opus. Still gothic in its own way, but now with a sheen of glittery passion as Robert Smith write dramatic long love aong after dramatic longing love song. Nothing is done in brief, every song plays out its every melodic and harmonic idea for minutes before the lyrics even start. Lush, angelic, longing, desperation, love, sadness, bombastic, it blends into an all encompassing haze. Nine minute songs will go by in a rush and you will find your hour spent quicker than is reasonable. You will drown in this album.

Kendrick Lamar - good kid, m.A.A.d. city

A short film by Kendrick Lamar. Thats what the album cover says and that's most certainly what we get. An autobiographical concept album about Kendrick's life growing up in Compton. Kendrick Lamar takes us through his trials as a teen dealing with drugs and gang violence, his aspirations as an artist, the struggle to survive, and the knowledge that everything he does could easily be the last thing he ever did. Not only does Kendrick thread the needle really well when it comes to bringing all this together in a cohesive engaging way, but he also has a one of a kind voice. His rasp is iconic nowadays and his flow is so casual that it feels like he isnt even trying. But watch out, try to sing along and you'll realize that he actually has an incredible ear for the beat that allows him to play around it in ways that are very hard to mimic.

The Strokes - Is This It

Is This It is one of those overlooked turning points in musical history. It may seem like a perfectly normal alt rock album to the modern listener, but it was the first of its breed. The entire zeitgeist of 00's post punk revival starts here. Without Is This It there is no Killers, Franz Ferdinand, Silversun Pickups, Vines, Black Keys, Arctic Monkeys, Vampire Weekend, Interpol, Fratellis, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Hives, Shins, and about a million other bands who were very specifically copying the sound of this album. Now i do think the historical value of Is This It might be a little higher than the artistic value. Its a nice garagey album, lots of jangle and a couple of really catchy songs, but I think it was honestly topped by many of its imitators. This album is like Seinfeld, everyone copied it so well that it no longer scans as unique.

The Smiths - The Queen Is Dead

I'm a dramatic bitch. This is a dramatic bitch album. There are not a lot of albums that I have finished and then immediately started over again. The first two Smiths albums are dramatic and delightful, but they are 100% sincere. The Queen Is Dead brings a bitter irony into the mix. Morrissey is practically mocking his fans. I Know It's Over, Never Had No One Ever, and There Is A Light That Never Goes Out are so melodramatic that they feel satirical. Meanwhile Cemetry Gates, Bigmouth Strikes Again, and Frankly, Mr. Shankly are just humorous takedowns of people that just annoy Morrissey. This is music for listening to by candlelight while you lay on your chaise longue and pretend to have the consumption. Top ten album material.

Elton John - Goodbye Yellow Brick Road

This is a good album, but its extremely bloated. It's often held up as Elton John's best work, and i would agree if you cut out most of the middle. In fact Jamaica Jerk-Off should instantly disqualify this album from being considered one of the best. Admittedly side one is actually some of Elton John's best work, starting with the eleven minute prog epic Funeral For A Friend/Love Lies Bleeding and continuing with three of his best hits in a row. I think of you trimmed about fifteen minutes of fat off this bad boy until you had a solid 60 minute album it would be really improved

Janet Jackson - Control

Not gonna lie, they definitely put Janet's albums on here in reverse order. Obviously they are all deserving of a spot but i just think Rhythm Nation>The Velvet Rope>Control. Minor placement gripe aside, Control is Jackson's first masterpiece. She establishes the album's theme succinctly: control. Every song really is about a woman establishing some sort of dominance over her life, often men. It established a precedent for female pop and R&B artists to present more forward and dominant personalities in their music and in their piblic persona. The fusion of pop, R&B, and synths, while not actually a new idea, was a perfect blueprint for her sound.

Joni Mitchell - Court And Spark

Here we see the beginning of it all. The first album where Joni Mitchell would start experimenting with jazz. It's clear that her folksy rambling vocal style was already perfect for some jazzier numbers. Mitchell is just a natural artist and everything she does is golden. It has been hard to review her every time because I simply don't have the time or energy to dissect the poetry of her lyrics and how it all ties together. You just gotta listen. I think that if you want to get into Joni Mitchell this is the only logical starting point. It has the artistic depth of her late work while still having a few songs that you can actually hum.

Lou Reed - Transformer

Yet another punk rock progenitor. The fuzzy garage rock of his Velvet Underground days is now mixed with a deliberately Bowie-esque glam. The result is a series of New York City street fables about drug dealers, hookers, and queers. Its more stripped down, more real than Reed's previous work. It shows off NYC the way a Bakshi film would, lovingly with warts and all.

Fiona Apple - When the Pawn Hits the Conflicts He Thinks Like a King What He Knows Throws the Blows When He Goes to the Fight and He'll Win the Whole Thing 'Fore He Enters the Ring There's No Body to Batter When Your Mind Is Your Might So When You Go Solo, You Hold Your Own Hand and Remember That Depth Is the Greatest of Heights and If You Know Where You Stand, Then You Know Where to Land and If You Fall It Won't Matter, Cuz You'll Know That You're Right

Yes that is the album title. Where Fiona Apple's debut is youthfully melodramatic the follow up is a more mature album. She is much more capable of being genuinely sad but also gleefully mean. And her voice is slightly huskier, fuller at times. Apple is clearly not entirely in a great place on When The Pawn, but she is really mining that bad place for everything its worth.

[bogleech]

These replies meant well but they miss the point, we are absolutely dealing with a fanatical hive minded cult here. Zombie and Sheep are completely appropriate euphemisms for people who willingly chose not to think for themselves, and if Trump says the sky is green then his whole barking, flopping gaggle of drunken seals will not only immediately believe the sky is green, they will also believe you're a baby-eating commie satanist if you think it's ever been blue.

I'm just going to copy/paste what I already added before:

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"The number of people who seriously didn't know anything other than "he said he'd fix the economy" can't be that common. And if you ever heard him speak, you heard him define "fixing the economy" as "shutting down the border," because his single biggest campaign tool has been the complete and utter lie that "illegals" are a significant drain on the economy or that they're on the rise. Both are false. The vast, vast majority of his supporters, I'd say well over 99%, maybe more like several hundred to one, hold at least one, normally several of the following beliefs:

That there are bloodthirsty foreign devils deliberately invading at all times from the Southern border, and they can be blamed for the financial struggles of the "legal" citizens.

Anyone outside the traditional gender norms is an insatiable pervert and wants to corrupt innocent children.

Those who get abortions or in some cases even use birth control are murderers and filthy whores.

People in poverty are just lazy druggies who didn't care or try hard enough and brought all of their suffering on themselves.

The Disabled and in fact anyone unable to just work, work, work and work for at least some retail shit are a burden to be scorned.

Everyone bombed and killed by the U.S. military or any of its allied countries is always either a terrorist or an acceptable sacrifice in the fight against terrorists.

Police brutality is overstated and most people hurt or killed by cops did something to deserve it, but most especially minorities, who may or may not be genetically predisposed to crime.

An idea that Jewish people secretly control the world through a vast interconnected conspiracy that may also involve demon worship and child trafficking.

Doctors and scientists are liars who drain money from the economy and are wrong about everything that might inconvenience a rich man.

Non-Christians of any kind are degenerate and dangerous.

Trump's entire platform, and that of all other GOP candidates these days, is a deliberately fuzzy promise to act on any or all of these hysterical prejudices. He's most consistent about the first one and made it pretty much the central pillar of his whole campaign, because the paranoia over an imaginary "border crisis" is by far the most popular culture war uniting the right. Which is pretty fucking sad considering just how utterly fabricated it is, and how effortless it is to find that out in only seconds. However, not all conservatives subscribe to all of the same moral panics at the same time, so right wing influencers spend a lot of time weeping and gnashing over "liberalism" or "socialism" or this word that rhymes with "yoke" so that every one of their stupid, angry grovelers can read into it as a promise to defeat whatever it is those words mean in their mushy fucking brains. The single most important thing to understand of all, though, is that the lies are not what make them hate people. They already wanted to hate those people. The lies are concocted after the fact to justify the deeds they want to commit. They are stupid, scared, gullible and weak but they are also willfully spiteful with a massive punishment fetish, so when you get enough of them together they can actually wreak havoc. The point of my original post was that they're not anything as cool or impressive as evil nefarious villains. They're more comparable to a mindless but inexorable flood of sewage.

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I will also add: almost all of them categorize other human beings as "illegal aliens," and to them those aren't just words, but an actual demographic label they want to force on anyone who didn't fill out all the right forms, which they want enforced as an unforgivable crime.

Getting upset that I turn around and throw "dehoominizing langwidge" back at them is honestly a little ridiculous and even kind of uncomfortable, like if you saw a guy beating his wife and patted him gently on the back to remind him he matters. No he doesn't! Put a knife in that hand first! Referring to violent xenophobes as zombies or animals or vermin shouldn't bother you any more than calling them shitheads or assholes or even just jerks, because all possible words and language are completely inconsequential compared to their actual efforts at legislative dehumanization.

That's what "dehumanization" actually is. Not calling someone a dog or a ghoul in words, which is merely an expression of how ugly their behavior has become. Dehumanization is the actual treatment, by action, of other people as less worthy of basic rights and that is what they set out to do every single day. Like are some of you seriously that sheltered and naive. Yeesh. If you're personally acquainted with that one-in-a-million kind-hearted well meaning oaf who ignorantly supports the right wing out of innocent childlike ignorance, congrats but it doesn't change a thing and maybe your poor sweet gentle pet maga should have cared enough to know what they were voting for?

Young people have GOT to stop talking about conservatives like they're scary menacing monsters. Yes the policies they back are horrifically destructive but that's entirely because of how individually stupid, fearful, emotionally stunted, weak willed and catastrophically gullible they are. That all is what made them become right wing to begin with. Just the most easily manipulated zombie sheep on earth.