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felassanis · 2 years

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Legacy Of The Sparrow WIP - Reaver x F!Sparrow

This is a WIP of a full story I am planning on making. So please lemme know what you think! I am refraining from posting it to AO3 in case I need to make any alterations as I map out the chapters.

Reaver tries and fails to understand just exactly what about “Until I return to kill you and take back what's rightfully mine,” had been lost in translation.

He was rather certain his feelings on the matter were made quite clear. In print nevertheless! How could anyone expect him to be more clearer than that?! It was as if they were begging to have their heads blown all over the walls, honestly!

Reaver even thought it an improvement on the wallpaper. Considering it was not his wallpaper in the first place.

They couldn't just contend with squatting in his Bloodstone Manor. Oh no, they had also stripped it of any trace of Reaver’s personality. Taking it upon themselves to completely refurbish the manor as they saw fit. And in their rampant warpath his oil paintings had been pulled from the walls. His collection of titillating contraptions…gone! Tossed and burned with his old sex chamber switched into a bloody office.

They’d even done away with Reaver’s Rear Passage. Blocking the entrance with thick, hard, concrete…Seriously. Not every manor had a secret escape tunnel. They must lead awfully dreadful lives to never see the usefulness of one.

“No, this won’t do at all,” He mumbles to himself.

Blowing smoke from the barrel of Dragonstomper, Reaver steps over a row of bodies casually. Only slightly fretting what the spilled blood pouring from between their eyes would do to his floorboards. He wondered briefly, in a spurt of awareness, if anyone would miss the throuple. Only to then realise he didn’t care. In fact, there were far more pressing issues….

On his trip back from Samarkand, he’d lost all the wealth he’d accumulated from the distant, barbaric land of sand. His ship The Reaver unfortunately lost her battle to Albion’s sharp and twisted coasts on the trip home. His beloved finally finding her watery grave after many long years at last. And with it, Reaver’s reapings from Samarkand.

Now he’s found his second beloved abused, mutilated, and tortured in rampant bright colours and shackled by domesticity. Oh well, at least he still has his vault. No one in Albion could crack the code to his belly of riches that lay beneath Bloodstone Manor.

“Reaver, sir!”

The bald man who appeared suddenly from nowhere had made him flinch. Something so undeniably humiliating that Reaver nearly put a bullet in him right then and there to save face. And he damn well would have, were it not the scout he had sent out earlier.

“M’sorry sir! I-I just had news! The news you wanted me to get for ‘yer!”

Now here was some village missing its idiot. The man holds his hands up in a delayed reaction as Dragonstomper glares at him with one big, deep, black eye. And as tempting as it was to pull the divine trigger…he was one of the few fools left from Reaver’s old crew who hadn’t been snatched by the wilds of Samarkand or died in the subsequent shipwreck.

“Well? Quickly now lad! Before I completely do away with the notion of ‘don’t shoot the messenger’,”

“Well, I know we ‘ant been back from Samarkand long. But shit’s changed, sir. Some o’ the locals heard the gunshots, sir. Before stuff got prim ‘n proper, people might’ve joined in innit? Bit ‘o fun, bit o’ target practice like for the kiddies. Not these lot. Mighty fearful they were. They’ve gone ‘an told on you, sir,” He explains quickly.

“Told on me?” Reaver keens in interest. Tasting the question on his tongue like sugar. “My, and whom have they told on me to, I wonder? A teacher? The guards? Oh I'm unequivocally shivering in my breeches…”

He could do with the target practice after all this. Keen to let out his frustrations on the populace stupid enough to come after him.

“No, sir. They’ve gon’ and told the Queen,”

Reaver blinks. “Since when was there a bloody Queen?”

--------

“Your form is sloppy. Any pisspot who remembers he has legs could kick your weight out from under you,”

Walter relents his picky point with another strike of the blade. Hurtling towards her at such a hard, unwavering speed that she barely has time to use the side of her blade to throw him off as he rams.

Stunned, she teters backwards. Barely staying on her feet as Walter flicks the blade to his side pompously. Circling her with a cocky smile that curls under his brown moustache.

“Embarrassing for a queen,”

She lets out an undignified huff. “I’ll show you embarrassing,”

Walter comes bounding towards her like a bull, sword like horns, as he darts. Rather than exert unnecessary energy, Sparrow extends her hand outwards. Her palm directed at Walter. With a sudden gust of force, the propulsion of her Will fizzles into reality. Sending him flying back like an insect caught in a vengeful wind and with it, his sword clattering to the ground.

Walter rises to his feet, smile completely wiped off his face. “I said no magic!"

“There are no rules in battle, dear Walter,”

“Not in writing. But dirty tactics and cheap tricks aren’t honourable,” He picks up his sword, aiming the tip towards her in accusation. “Troops look up to their leader. To find her throwing dirt in an opponent's eye to win is hardly inspirational,”

Sparrow shrugs. The act of exerting Will was hardly cheap tactics in her eyes. With a wave of her hand, she could conjure a frightening row of swords with the ease of breath. Aim them true, and her enemies would become human pincushions before they landed a single hit. Lightning and fire bowed to her whim. The very earth would bend and break if she wanted it, cowering under her might. What was cheap about that? It was hardly comparable to throwing dirt in someone’s eye.

But Walter had always been very by the book. He’d sooner lose a battle than win by tricks and wit. She supposed there was a fairness in that, something to admire. But it also felt short sighted. She could not have relied on Lucien Fairfax to prepare honourable tactics back when. Doing so would have seen her dead. As it saw so many others dead.

“My apologies, Walter,” She nods to her old friend. Perhaps it was unfair to exert Will over someone who was not a Hero. “Would you like to knock me off my feet again? I know you love it when I fall underneath you,”

Her tease is not lost on him, as evident by the hook in his brow. “Always saying what’s on your mind, eh lass?”

“I don’t say everything that’s on my mind. You’d be blushing to your toes if I said everything I’m thinking of,”

He lets out a roar of laughter at that, which makes her smile. He could be very serious when he wanted to be, too serious. The job of being her bodyguard had all but sapped the humour out of him. She wished nothing more that behind closed doors, he’d drop the dutiful act and be Walter Beck again. Like they were in the old days.

When Walter starts to pace towards her something clutches her chest, winding it tightly into a knot of anticipation. Maybe, just maybe, her teasing had struck a chord. Finally. His eyes hold something close to courage, something closer to need. Desire…

Only for it to be wounded when he stops a foot from her.

He looks like he wants to say something. His mouth hangs open, before closing promptly.

“Come, your highness. Your council will be waiting in the throne room,”

She deflates, disappointed. But hardly surprised.

“No rest for the wicked, eh?”

She sheathes her sword, shoving into her belt roughly like a careless punch. Side by side the two of them make their way through Castle Fairfax in silence, arriving at the doors to the throne room also as such. Where her council awaited, and where her day was about to be ruined.

Outside the hall's doors is Jasper. An elderly man, trussed up in a buttoned up suit with slicked back hair white as snow. He spots the duo, quickly checking that his collar was in top shape as if she’d care. In his hand is a red velvet cushion holding her crown.

“Your majesty,” The butler takes a bow, holding the cushion perfectly poised as he bends.

“Jassy,” She replies, taking hold of the crown and nestling it quickly on her head.

They enter the hall alongside the thundering cascade of the large oak doors being swung open by Walter, who urgently holds the door aside for his queen. The room is cast into an immediate hush, eyes trailing towards the lithe frame of Sparrow. Twinkling like the sockets of skulls. Crimson banners bearing Sparrow’s sigil drape from the ceiling, matching the elongated carpet that flowed across the marble floor towards her throne…

With a deep breath that blows up her lungs, Sparrow walks down the centre of the hall with practised grace. Though her throne rubbed her in all the wrong places, and the crown wrapped around her temples like a wreath plucked from thorns that provoked a headache, she would never show it. She could feign grace, feign poise and manners, things she had never embraced in her heart truly. It was all an act, a mask, a barricade to deflect the staring and hushed whispers that descended upon her court. She flaunted this facade for five years, it came naturally to her now.

All she had to consciously not trip over this damn carpet.

As she ascends to her throne and settles her bony arse in the stone seat. The first noble wastes no time in taking the stand.

“Your Majesty, Queen Sparrow,”

She recognised the noble. An older man who went by Cotton Filly; befitting of his name was a head of greyish curls that fell to his shoulders like cobwebs. He was built similarly to a doll made fashioned from clay that had been pulled and stretched by a meaner older brother. Sometimes it baffled her that answering to her authority meant taking such…pissants seriously.

As the man spills his drivels, her eyes begin to wander. In a room filled to the brim with people there was comfort that amongst the sea of faces at least one was known to her.

Searching for his gaze, she finally catches Walter Beck’s eyes. Who watches her from afar at his post at the other end of the hall. He can read her better than anyone and knows she’d rather be anywhere else. Alas, all he can just about offer is a sympathetic look.

“The current climate of the region is appealing to you to find a suitable husband. Someone of good standing who understands what it means to be a leader. And who can provide a strong and capable heir to rule in your stead when you are gone,"

Her eye twitches irritably as she is taken out of her distraction. It was one thing to hear rants about lowering the taxes for the rich or about rebuilding roads. But when they butted their noses into her private affairs. It was a little too much. And hit a sore spot…

“And as I’ve stated before, Mr Filly. I have no need of an extra mouth to feed in my household,” She tells him flatly. “I’ve enough feeding you lot as it is,”

Mr Filly, unphased by her answer, continues. “Your highness. There are many in your kingdom who would see a lone queen as fragile…vulnerable even. And more view it as a challenge. The people worry that without an heir, your…ahem, generous rule may be cut short. If that happens we will be left struggling without a guiding hand. I implore you, to reinstate the confidence in your people, find a husband,”

“And I implore you to return to your queen with concerns that actually matter to the fate of the realm. The question of who I have or don’t have under my bed sheets will not dictate Albion’s safety,”

She could see the thinly veiled attempt at control on his part, of him trying to rein her in like a loose pup. He dressed his words up as pragmatism of course, but deep down she knew his blood boiled at the sight of her on the throne. His posture stiffened, and his lips pressed firmly into a thin line.

Years ago the only way she would have ever seen the inside of Castle Fairfax was through an unattended window, or being dragged to the royal dungeons by the guards for stealing bread from a stall. But now the lowest of commoners had committed a noble’s worst nightmare to reality… and ascended to royalty.

She was not Lucien Fairfax. And the nobles of Bowerstone detested it.

She had no status. No regard for the nobility. And no patience. She was an unnatural force of change in the once sturdy and structural hierarchy. And like most, change scared them to death.

Sparrow had no intention of coddling them like Lucien had done. She’d force this change down their throats till they either swallowed or choked. As long as they kept in line, this feigned politeness between them and her would continue.

Mr Filly pulls a face. “The dwellers are a solitary people. They’d rather live in the woods than with the rest of us in civilization. And that is their right. Many wonder though, if the burden of the crown is too heavy for someone used to going at it…alone, in matters,”

“You don’t need to concern yourself with the weight of my crown,”

“We are simply worried that should you perish without a husband or an heir-”

“Your worry is touching,” She snaps. “No, really. I’m moved to tears,” She strikes a finger across her dry cheek.

Once again his face scrunches. Like he had tasted something bitter in the air. “Your highness it is the responsibility of royalty to marry and continue their bloodline. And since you claim to be royalty, I feel it is my duty as a member of your court to remind you of this,”

Before Sparrow can attest to that, the doors to the throne room burst open. A set of guards painfully out of breath rush into the hall which erupts in gossip and outrage.

A strangled cry rises from Cotton Filly as Sparrow stands from the throne. “What is the meaning of this interruption?! How dare-”

“Oh do be quiet!” Sparrow descends the stairs that prop her throne up. Pushing past Filly as she attends to the two guards, who remove their helmets in respect.

Walter appears, taking quickly to her side as he addresses the men. “Figgins, Smithy! What in blazes are you doing here, lads?! You were stationed all the way in Bloodstone!”

Figgins, the much younger of the duo, wipes his face clean of sweat as he gasps. “Sorry, Walter, sir. But we have an urgent distress call from Bloodstone,”

“Distress…hah,” Smithy grunts with a weak, sickly smile. “It’s a bloody massacre is what it is…he even got the chickens, poor things…”

“Chickens? Wha-just tell us what is going on, lad!” Walter shouts.

“It started with the Billberry family, they were butchered in their own home. Shot dead like..like…” Figgins answers, growing nervous as Walter seems to tower over him.

Something lights up in Sparrow’s head then like a march to a wick. A pang of familiarity scratches at her mind over the uttered last name.

“The Billberrys…the Billberrys…” She tastes the name on her tongue.

Walter eyes her. “They’re the ones you sold Bloodstone Manor to, M’lady. Shame, they were a kind bunch of souls,”

Then it hits her. A sick cackle in the back of her mind, a voice rich in tone and smooth like velvet. Yet as sharp as any blade. A man as unpredicatble as a bomb. A walking time capsule that should have been buried and left buried. Rum and smoke and sea salt…

At first, she simply refused to believe the first thing that came to mind. She shook the memories like apples from a tree, daring to stomp on the fruits of her past…but she knew, deep down, she knew what this meant. There was but one man who could be responsible for something like this. Only one sadistic enough.

As ever living up to his name. Reaver had returned…..

#fable #fable 2 #fable 3 #sparrow #reaver #fable reaver #spreaver #fable sparrow #fable 2 sparrow #fable 2 reaver #Reaver x Sparrow

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nerdydowntherabbithole · 1 year

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Mmaybe iterators smell through their antennas like ants???? More bug parallesl....

I wonder what else antennas could be used for. The electric eel that can sense other creatures' electric impulses comes to mind... Maybe if they focus...?

Imagine you're a wild lizard just chilling and then BOOM. Iterator kills you bc they felt u were there. Lmao

Wait does this mean that when Pebbles and Moon bump antennas they're like doing the nose to nose platonic kiss i see families with young children doing that's adorable oh my god.

Nnyway. Explodes about Sugar and Pebbles. Pebbles you can do it now you Just gotta be brave. Come one you've got one murderous cat and two (2) lizards with u to protect urself and the rest of the group. The rot isn't there don't wo

Sugar absolute beloved. Cries they're so SELFLESS ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ

Ah on behalf of a commenter i saw on ao3, who didn't ask me but i was curious, if they all slept in the next shelter together would Sugar appear with them like in co-op and they just don't know? Like if there's more people in one shelter than the other would the person that died appear there? (With arti it didn't happen bc there were 2 pups and 1 arti)

YEAH YEAH U GET IT. ALL OF THIS IS EXACTLY CORRECT. ANTENNA SENSORY AND AFFECTIONATE ANTENNA FAMILY BUMPS. THANK UUUU AUGH. As for the shelter question, nope! If you die, you get sent all the way back to the last place u slept in. Doesn't matter if you have a group or not.

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gl4ssfan · 9 months

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🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜 🐜

sad thing is I will forget my army of ants I lead here 😔 so I might not drop by BUT WE WILL FOREVER TREASURE THE SUGAR !!!

aw man :(

solution: just dont forget

ants you are beloved here

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brooklynislandgirl · 1 year

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From my beloved @mouthoftheocean Optional tag: Music-fiends, you know who you are. 1. a song you can listen to on repeat Red Right Hand || Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds Whatever It Takes || Imagine Dragons 2. a song from one of your favorite albums Alive || Pearl Jam - 10 Levon || Elton John - Madman Across the Water 3. a song you loved when you were a teenager or kid Mr Brownstone || Guns N Roses Me and Bobby McGee || Janis Joplin The End || The Doors 4. a song that makes you feel strong The Warrior Song - Leviathan || Sean Householder Wolf Totem || The Hu 5. a song that makes you sad Indian Sunset || Elton John The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald || Gordon Lightfoot Pirate’s Plea || The Musical Blades 6. a song that cheers you up Can’t Stop || Red Hot Chili Peppers Mwahahahah || Ookla the Mok Survivor Evolved || Neebs Gaming ft. JT Music {{RIP Thick44}} 7. a song that reminds you of your friend(s) Lux Aeterna || Clint Mansell Throw Your Arms Around Me || Hunters and Collectors Sugar in the Hold || The Jolly Rogers Friends in Low Places || Garth Brooks 9. a song that reminds you of yourself Texas Longhorn || Django Walker Closer to the Heart || Rush A Pirate Looks At Forty || Jimmy Buffet 10. a song that brings back good memories Get the Funk Out || Extreme Amarillo By Morning || George Strait Sex Type Thing || Stone Temple Pilots {feel free to ask why} 11. a song that grew on you Smooth Criminal || Alien Ant Farm {cover} On a Boat || The Lonely Island 12. a song from a musical Music of the Night || Michael Crawford - Phantom of the Opera Right Hand Man || Jonathan Young and Caleb Hyles - Hamilton You’ll Be Back || Jonathan Young - Hamilton Falcon in the Dive || Terry Mann - The Scarlet Pimpernel Into the Fire || Douglas Sills and Original Broadway Cast - The Scarlet Pimpernel Madame Guillotine || Original Broadway Cast - The Scarlet Pimpernel Stars || Phillip Quast as Javert - Les Miserables 13. a song with a great music video Sweep the Leg || No More Kings Jack Sparrow || The Lonely Island 14. a song that’s better as a cover Temple of Love || Johnny Hollow The Plagues || Jonathan Young and Caleb Hyles -Prince of Egypt Old Town Road || Richaad EB and Jonathan Young 15. a song that’s better acoustic Down in a Hole || Alice in Chains Radioactive || Daughtry {cover} 16. a song with great lyrics Anybody Listening? || Queensryche Comfortably Numb || Pink Floyd 17. a song for summer Santeria || Sublime When the Sun Goes Down || Kenny Chesney Toes || Zac Brown Band 18. a song for heartache Snuff || Corey Taylor {Slipknot} Fuck You || Cee Lo Green and Daryl Hall

19. a song for car rides Life is a High Way || Rascal Flatts Free Fallin’ || Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers Calypso || John Denver 20. a song for the rain Featherstone || Paper Kites What Kind of Love || Childish Gambino Nocturne #20 in C Sharp Minor || Chopin 21. a song for dancing Can’t Dance || Cooper Allen Rodeo || Garth Brooks What I Love About Sundays || Craig Morgan 22. a song for making out Hole-Hearted || Extreme More than Whiskey in Mind || Christian Kane Bad Romance || Lady Gaga 23. a song for a lover Hallelujah || Jeff Buckley A Thousand Years || Christina Perri I’ll Be || Edwin McCain 24. a song from before you were born White Rabbit || Jefferson Airplane Killer Queen || Queen 25. a song from a band that’s no longer together Blow Up The Outside World || Soundgarden Big Empty || Stone Temple Pilots 26. a song you’ve seen live Operation LIVEcrime || Queensryche {{yes the whole album/show}} 27. a song you want to see live Hollywood Pirate || The Musical Blades House Rules || Christian Kane 28. a song by a band you don’t usually like Bang Bang || Jessie J, Ariana Grande, Nicki Minaj 29. a song you recommend Montero || Lil Nas X

#Turtle Music #If you know...you know and msg me

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sciencestyled · 7 months

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A Mind-Boggling Ant-venture: When Scott Lang Unveils the Mind-Control Drama in Microcosm

Dear Ant-thusiasts and Marvel Maniacs,

Prepare to have your minds cartwheel through a dimension where Ant-Man is your host, narrating a saga that unveils right under our unassuming feet. Imagine, a realm where ants are the protagonists, or shall we say, the unwilling victims of a plot straight out of a sci-fi thriller. And, who better to narrate this than our very own, ever-charming, ever-witty Scott “Ant-Man” Lang.

We bet you've seen Scott dodge bullets, shrink and expand into realms unknown, but this time he's your guide into a narrative so wild, it rivals the plot twists of our beloved MCU. As we traverse through this microscopic journey, we discover a world where ants are under the sinister spell of mind-controlling parasites. It's a world where the whims of a tiny liver fluke dictate the fate of our six-legged comrades, leading them into a dance of death atop blades of grass.

In a tale of survival, strategy, and sinister parasites, Scott unveils a narrative where an ant's reality becomes a leafy deathtrap. They climb to the tippy-top of grass blades, jaws locked in a death grip, awaiting their fate which is often nestled in the jaws of a grazing deer or cow. This, my friends, is not a comic book plot, it's a reality narrated by our charming Ant-Man, a reality where a parasitic fluke plays the puppeteer, pulling the strings of its tiny ant puppets.

With the finesse of a superhero and the humor of a seasoned comedian, Scott weaves a narrative that is as hilarious as it is horrifying. From drawing parallels between the liver fluke's master plan to the grand heists of the Marvel universe, to painting a vivid picture of the tiny yet colossal drama unfolding in the underbelly of nature, Ant-Man takes us on a journey that leaves us with chuckles, shivers, and a profound admiration for the microscopic world.

Marvel at the ingenious survival strategies of the liver fluke, chuckle at Scott's hilarious analogies, and descend into a world where the lines between superheroes and parasites blur. With every turn of the page, you'll find yourself laughing, learning, and lunging into a world where even the tiny have tales of epic proportions.

As Scott would say, keep that helmet on, ‘cause this narrative is an enthralling ride into the eerie, exciting, and ever-evolving world of ants. It's a story where the microcosm mirrors the macrocosm, where every tiny ant's struggle for survival resonates with the grand narrative of heroes and villains.

In this tale of parasites and puppetry, Scott “Ant-Man” Lang doesn't just delve into the unknown; he makes us fall in love with a world we seldom notice, one blade of grass at a time. So, if you thought ant adventures were merely about sugar cubes and picnic crumbs, brace yourselves, because this narrative is about to enlarge your perspective in the most 'ant-tastic' way possible!

Intrigued? Tickled? Or merely bemused? Whatever your reaction, one thing's for certain: you will never look at an ant the same way again! So, march along with us into this ‘ant-venturous’ narrative and discover a tale of survival, strategy, and Scott Lang’s scintillating humor!

#ants #ant man #scott lang #science #zombie

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simplyghosting · 7 months

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Terri ant bait traps are just a mix of borax and sweetener, we get ants in the spring in our porch so we use them religiously. They won’t kill them fast but they will kill them over time. Aside from that, can you seal up the drywall cracks?

Terri ant bait traps my beloved. Yeah, that’s what I’ve been using. It took out the black ants, the sugar ants, and some carpenter ants over the course of a couple of months, but now the red ants have moved in, so they’re next on the list.

And while I would love to just grab some filler putty and go ham on the cracks, I live with my parents, and they can be a bit…particular at times. I don’t have the most freedom to repair things myself if I can’t make it look like nothing happened (I fix what I can otherwise, like bad sanding jobs in the bathroom). So for now, I have to wait until they make a move or I bother them enough to get an okay to make my walls have Dalmatian patches lol.

#ghost answers #chasteblowjay #thank you!

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cottont33th · 1 year

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CSSSA 2023 Visual Arts Assignment A: TAXIDERMY

CW// discussion of extreme gender dysphoria, disturbing imagery, gore, and depression.

Poem transcript:

I think there was once a time where nature didn’t hurt

Dysphoria.

I want to ask myself if this struggle, this tightening rope around my neck would be there if all the eyes would stop staring

If all the mouths would stop gaping

If the words would stop

The ants under my skin hurt as you hold a sugar cube just above the surface

my weak limbs tying me down. And I’ll explain myself

and tell you the ants are there

But you laugh and call me dramatic

Because you have no ants

So I’ll skin myself

I’ll start with an incision across my horrid chest

and down my too-thin waste

and over the large bones of my hips

And no one will help me

They want to see me skin myself as proof that I suffer

It’s not enough to tell them about the ants

And I’ll plead and cry and grovel like a child on the cold hardwood floors but nothing changes

My skin is still too tight, and my bones are still misshapen

I can’t reshape my skin

Not yet no matter how hard I plead and pray and cry

So I’ll wear another

The skin of a dog so that I may be a dog instead

and take comfort in that illusion as I once did long ago

And the pain may become less

and the ants will go back to sleep.

I think I’ve been a dog for a long time

Because the ants only woke up the day I decided

to stop playing pretend and join what my parents called

The Real World

And suddenly I was no longer a dog

And the little boy had to look at himself in the mirror

And see a stranger

So I put the skin back on

And pray to be a dog again

So I can ignore the ant bites

But I’ve outgrown the old skin

And am stuck to my own again

Curled up and shivering next to the old beloved taxidermy

I become rabid

And begin to chew through my palms

I suppose even a dog can’t ignore pests for long

And maybe even a dog could hate himself

For the fleas he carries on his back

And maybe even a dog will trick himself

Into thinking the rest of the pack hates him too

So maybe then I’m a stray

And like a stray

I’ll do what it takes to survive for as long as I can stand on my own

And if my ants don’t get removed soon enough

Then I hope there will be someone there in time

To help me limp the rest of the way

Like the starved animal that I am.

#poetry #csssa 2023 #csssa #original art #Rain Skyler poem

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tonkibabes · 2 years

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Bubble breaker online game

#Bubble breaker online game full#

Playing games in our collection is like playing video games from the future! Our challenging levels have tons of different themes, offering the ideal game for any player. Similar to Breakout, bubble shooter challenges take 2D gaming to the next level. Quick action and arcade-style gameplay are featured in many of our levels. Our bubble shooter games are designed for players of all ages. Race against the clock, challenge an opponent, or beat a personal best! Choose your favorite environment, and get ready to shoot some bubbles! Enjoy 3D graphics and set a new high score in one of our bubble shooter challenges! You can play any game in our vast collection for free, giving you hundreds of levels and gameplay choices. Shoot colorful bubbles, balloons, and marbles to score big points. In our bubble shooter games, you’ll be immersed into addictive gameplay and amazing graphics. io Games Car Games Basketball Games Games for Girls Racing Games Shooting Games 2 Player Games Stickman Games Dress Up Games Arcade Games Mahjong Games Block Games Flappy Bird Games Sudoku Games Snake Games Thinking Games Battleship Games Pop It Games You can use your mouse to pop the bubbles.Subway Surfers Temple Run 2 Retro Bowl Venge.io Stickman Hook Who Is? Narrow.One Repuls.io Brain Test 2: Tricky Stories SchoolBreak.io Friday Night Funkin' Idle Ants Moto X3M Stick Merge Parkour Race Mad GunZ Gold Digger FRVR Rocket Soccer Derby Like a King Piano Tiles 2 Sushi Party EvoWorld io (FlyOrDie io) Crossy Road Where is My Cat? Blocky Cars Combat Online Fury Wars Raft Wars Multiplayer Temple of Boom Smash Karts The Impossible Quiz Getaway Shootout Bad Ice-Cream Shell Shockers G-Switch 3 Brain Test: Tricky Puzzles Tunnel Rush YoHoHo.io Football Masters Idle Digging Tycoon Soccer Skills Champions League Onet Paradise Ludo Hero Merge Round Racers Puffy Cat Iron Snout Merge Tycoon Life - The Game Viking Village Cover Orange Apple Knight Fish Eat Fish Blumgi Rocket Game of Farmers Tunnel Rush 2 Idle Gang Lines to Fill Nonogram Crazy Party Cover Orange: Journey Ninja.io Grow Up the Cats Shape Fold Nature Truck Loader 3 Z-Raid The Walking Merge Pick Up Associations Motorbike Games Popular Games. DeveloperĪmazing Hedgehog developed Amazing Bubble Breaker. If you want to play more puzzles games, and try another one similar to Amazing Bubble Breaker, then be sure to check Sugar Heroes, too. You can play Bubble Breaker in 2 different ways, level based or as unending game. First select a group of bubbles with the left mouse button then break them with a click. For each time a group could not be completed, one bubble is removed from the stack (on the bottom-left side) when the stack is empty, the board will move down. The more you break with one click the higher the score you get. Play Bubble Breaker Play Bubble Breaker Try to remove all the bubbles from the board by clicking on groups of 3 or more bubbles of the same color. The game will be over when there will be only individual colors left. Select bubbles with the same color and let them burst. To gather as many of the same bubbles together as you can is the best for getting more points. Bubble shooter games are a beloved classic of online gaming. The more points you will get as you pop them as a bigger cluster. You can also choose the theme as classic, planet, sport, or glass balls. Then you should choose the difficulty level as easy, medium, or hard. To start the game, click on the play button on the main menu. You get a score when you pop as many bubbles as you can! You should try to leave the least amount of bubbles on the board at the end of the game. Your goal in this game is to match the bubbles as a group of two or more and clear the board.

#Bubble breaker online game full#

Prepare yourself for a very colorful board! The screen is full of bubbles. In Amazing Bubble Breaker, it's time to pop the colorful bubbles! It is a very simple bubble game, but still, you need to be careful to get the highest score! If you are ready to break the bubbles, start the game now!

#Bubble breaker online game

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powdermelonkeg · 3 years

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Do you have any theories about Minish Cap? Do you think the Minish coming from the sky has anything to do with Skyloft or the Ooccoo? (What if they mention it in BO2W?? :O )

Minish Cap, my beloved.

So, I don't think the Minish have any relation to the Oocca, no more so than they would to, say, Levias or the Wind Tribe. Meaning, I think they could coexist, but I don't think they interacted more than on a technical level.

I do think, though, that the term "from the sky" in the intro sequence

can be interpreted both literally AND metaphorically, in the sense that they're Hylia's creations. She makes a bunch of stuff specifically to help the hero, I wouldn't put it past her to make something for his wallet and hearts.

If we interpret it literally, though, I'd have had them living on the cloud islands that the Wind Tribe do.

They'd have likely built their homes into the Palace of Winds, then possibly abandoned it when humanity needed them, which allowed the monsters to creep in. That would explain the portals you find everywhere up there!

Now, as for the Minish themselves.

Those that do live with humans utilize stray things the humans lose, like buttons, postage stamps, and candle stubs, and those that don't live either in houses of their own making, or in discarded human items like boots and barrels.

They're VERY strong, like ants; it only takes about a dozen of them to roll an empty barrel, which is incredible considering that they're only the size of your thumbnail!

They're mostly herbivorous, their diets consisting of nuts, small berries, beans, and mushrooms (fun fact: if something eats mushrooms and plants, they're technically omnivorous!), but those that live in the city tend to develop a taste for sugar and baked goods.

(Minish to scale)

Despite there being only three kinds of Minish in Minish Cap, you can find a variety of Minish for every walk of life! Anywhere there's rupees, there's Minish nearby. So there's Minish on the Great Sea, Minish living in the Goron Mines, Minish in Ordon Village, Minish in Kakariko...

Unfortunately, in Breath of the Wild, they've had to shift their focus totally to survival. The surge of monsters in the wake of the Calamity hit them hard, so they haven't had the time to hide hearts and rupees with the usual vigor they do; the rocks with rupees under them that you DO find are the Minish trying their best to make it easier for you despite the hard times.

What they HAVE done that's beneficial to you, however, is make Hyrule bountiful. The Minish have had to work almost entirely on the plants of the country, since the majority of the humans they depended on are gone. So whenever you see a bigger radish than normal or a particularly delicious truffle, know that that's because the Minish have been carefully tending to the land to keep it habitable, both for themselves and others.

Maybe thank them with a slice of fruit cake when next you make some.

#loz #zelda #botw #minish cap #ask bee #worldbuilding #headcanons #sorry this took so long i've been busy lately #but i'm good now so send all the questions you like!

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weaselle · 3 years

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Ant Cthulhu

Tumblr ate my story! Goodbye to. just. so many thousands of notes. This was one of my first stories that people on tumblr liked. So I’m making it a new post, so that people can find it. Plus, of all the thousands who read the first one or two installments, not nearly as many discovered that I had written a third and final installment that ends the story, so here is a chance at that.

The story was inspired by a pair of observations on Tumblr, where users probablybadrpgideas and 20thcenturyvole said, respectively

“if Cthulhu can be summoned by humans who are so far beneath it, why can’t humans be summoned by ants? The answer is they should be.” and “Well if a bunch of ants formed a circle in my house I’d certainly notice, try to figure out where they’d all come from, and possibly wreak destruction there.“

It gets just a little dark, but any story named for Cthulhu surely must have some death and destruction, right?

ANT CTHULHU

That’s why knowing and correctly pronouncing the true name is so important to the ritual. Imagine how impossible it would be to not go take a look if the circle of ants started chanting your name. And they’re like, you can’t leave because we drew a line made of tiny crystals - now you have to do us a favor. And you’re like, let’s just see where this goes “yup, you got me… what’s the favor?” and usually the favor is like, “kill this one ant for us” or “give me a pile of sugar” and you’re like… okay? and you do, because why not, it isn’t hard for you and boy is this going to be a fucking story to tell, these fucking ants chanting your name and wanting a spoonful of sugar or whatever. And SOMEtimes you get asked for things you can’t really do, one of them, she’s like, “I love this ant but she won’t pay any attention to me, make me important to her” and you’re like… um? how? So you just kill every ant in the colony except the two of them, ta-da! problem solved! and the first ant is like *horrified whisper* “what have I done” …. _____________________________________________________________________

Meanwhile another colony of ants invades your house, and evidently that last ant has gotten some of them to join her in a circle and taught them the ritual because you’re coming out of the bathroom one day and you hear the ants singing your name. Sure enough it’s that ant, but she’s dark and fucked up now, and she’s like, “kill the queen. I will rule this colony” and you’re like, sure, I guess I kinda owe her, and you do it. And she manages to become queen, and they worship you. Which is cool, you’re not, you know, very important in the human world, but to these ants you’re practically all-powerful.

Your beloved Naya doesn’t understand your fascination with the ants at all, but you easily train her to leave them alone. She’s such a good dog. The ants are horrified that you command such a beast.

You begin to realize can’t be just, doing everything a bunch of ants tell you to all the time. When would you watch Netflx? So you tend to only show up for super important ants; you teach them some extra words and when hear them you go see what’s up. Usually. Also though, you’ll show up to just your name, if you’re bored and you hear it. And, sometimes some of the ants are like, tell us more human names, and you’re kind of jealous of the idea of some other human diluting your private godhood, so you refuse. Your roommate Greg is like, yo, that’s fucking awesome, I want ant worshipers! But whenever he approaches any, they run away, because it turns out that the illusion of control from the named summoning is what makes them feel safe around you. That’s great, because Greg is a dick who never does the dishes, and one day you decide to teach Greg a lesson. So you show up at the colony, and you’re like, “yo, witch queen, did you think there would be no price for all these things? Your colony must do something for me, go to the Room of the Housemate, I will meet you there.” And you go sit on the couch and play Overwatch for a while. You’re like, right there, you can clearly see the ants all marching along the wall to Greg’s room, but to them you’re not even there, you’re so far away they can’t see you. It takes them, like, an ant week to make the journey. They have to figure out ways to get over and around things. Some of them drown, or get stepped on by the dog, or whatever. You win a game, you lose a game, you look over, and they’re trying to get through some cobwebs… looks like they’re mostly going to live, you keep playing, you look over, okay they’re all in there, and you stand up and walk over and by the time they’ve chanted your name once, you’re there. “right, hold on” and you look around and you see a twelve-pack of Greg’s precious fucking soda, that he keeps in his room and refuses to ever share, even though it’s a communal food household and you share your hot chocolate with him all the time. So you gather the ants unto you, and you poke a little hole in each of the sodas and you leave the room to the sound of the ants rejoicing. Greg will suspect of course, but he’ll never be able to prove the ants didn’t chew holes in the plastic and steal his stupid drinks.

He actually tries to blame it on Naya. What a prick. You insist with wide eyes that the ants must have found it somehow — maybe he shouldn’t leave soda pop laying around his room. But later, while you’re at work, Greg destroys most of the colony in a rage, and you come home to find the witch queen gasping her last. “The Dew of the Mountain, which you had us steal, was cursed - and so I lay my curse on you” she manages, and then she dies. Well first of all, you don’t really believe in curses, but last month you didn’t believe ants could know your name, so that’s unsettling. And second of all, you feel kind of bad. You know, not SUPER bad, cause she’s like, an ant. But still. And most importantly, third of all, Greg must pay. Like some kind of movie villain, you pet your loving Naya and say out loud “Oh yes, and pay he will.”

But Greg has done more than kill a bunch of the colony. As you wait for eggs and pupae to replenish the ant population, you discover he has found some ants that didn’t go on the Mountain Dew raid, and he’s spared them, told them his name.

He’s made himself a good sized cult in YOUR fucking ant queendom. Greg has started locking his door. So now you NEED the ants. Once again you direct the ants loyal to you to journey to Greg’s room. You meet them at the door. A locked door means nothing to the ants, they don’t even know there is a door, and can barely perceive the difference between it being open and shut - either passing the threshold on the floor regardless, or being on its surface no matter the position. But you need them to get inside. You’re going to put itching powder in his underwear drawer and leave a raw fish under his bed. So you instruct the leading party of ants how to go into the Cave of Keyhole, and position the Magic Megaliths inside just right to enable the opening of the Great Door and allow you to pass into the Realm of Housemate. Crouched by the door, you can hear when your ants are met by a party of Greg Cultists, who insist that if the Great Door is opened, the colony will be doomed. There is fighting. Your ants prevail, the lock tumblers are moved into place, and you swing the door open… To find Greg! In his room all along! It’s a trap! His cultists attack you! I mean, they can’t do much real harm, but it kind of hurts and it’s super annoying. You order your ants to attack him, and they do, but he storms over and pours bleach down the colony entrance.

It’s the end of their world. Now you and Greg are at war, and you both understand the unspoken rules to your fight. You can’t do things directly to each other, why, that would be assault. But anything you can get your ants to do is fine, because “she told the ants to do it to me” isn’t going to get very far with any authority figures that get involved. Later, nursing your anger, you confer with your few remaining ants and stare moodily at your new prize, the ant farm that came in the mail. It will take time to integrate them- your ants have to get access to the new ants’ scent marker chemicals and go undercover. Meanwhile, you’ve got a laptop schematic to go over with your high priestess. It’s finals week, and if you time it right, he’ll lose everything. … You look down into the summoning ritual. The current high priestess, Zé, is an ant of great influence and personality - you quite like her, inso far as a human can be friends with an ant that worships them. You thought the new queen would become the next high priestess, but according to Zé the queens don’t like to come out of the colony after they shed their wings. Plus they are very busy laying eggs and supervising the care of their ant larvae. Zé says it’s a better deal for you, this way your high priestess can have the time and energy to really serve your interests, and wield an authority among the colony that is purely yours - no conflict of interest, and no baby making duties. It’s really just what’s best for both you and the colony queen to have her as high priestess, she informs you, making you laugh at her flattery-wrapped ambition. There’s no laughing this evening though. It’s serious business on the docket tonight. “O wise and ancient entity of power, you grace us with your presence!” and for formality’s sake, she intones the additional ritual greeting from their holy books “You Look Fantastic, Have You Done Something New With Your Hair?” Ants don’t really understand hair. You respond as you have become accustomed “Thank You, Yes.” It’s just easier. They mean well. Mystic greeting complete, Zé and the rest of the dark clergy move straight to business. Several 10s of them line up in formation, creating a diagram of the apartment complex. You had to coach them into how to make it, as far as they are concerned it’s a complex sigil that conveys knowledge to you - for creatures that traverse the building in long journeys along the pipes in the walls and in the spaces between the lower ceiling and upper floor, it looks nothing like the apartment complex as they know it. Zé claims to understand it, but secretly you suspect she’s just mostly cementing her authority among the clergy. She has, usefully, memorized which parts of the sigil correspond with what parts of the building, and that’s good enough for your purposes. “O mighty being, we have done as instructed. Our scouts had to search wide for them, but we have left the corpses of many termites in all the locations you specified, every night this week. “Very good,” you assure them, “and the Greggorites?” “Our spies among them have learned of their next attack. We should be able to influence their timing somewhat.” “Good. And..” your eyes narrow, “the other thing?” “Ah, yes.” Zé’s antennae wave and dip in that way you know means she is uncomfortable. “to the best of our ability to find out, the… Antifreeze initiative was entirely conceived of by the Demon Lord Greg.” “Just Greg,” you tell Zé with bitter hatred as tears threaten to spill down your cheeks. “Greg is not a lord, just a fucking prick who’s going to get what’s coming to him. I swear by all of creation he will.” “Is there…” Zé trailed off and tried again. “O Deity of my heart, far be it from me to question Your Exaltedness, but help your poor servant to understand… your plans have become, ah, they seem perhaps, I am sure I am wrong, but they seem, overly audacious? Your recent change in demeanor has made some of us nervous - not me! - but some of the less devout among my sistren, have become… concerned.” Your fists clench. “I don’t expect you to get it. I’m pretty certain none of you could possibly understand.” Your voice breaks. You clench your teeth. You won’t, you won’t cry in front of your ant worshipers. You lean down and say in the strangled half whisper that is the only way you can force the words past the lump in your throat, “He killed my dog, Zé…” The ants flee the sound of your terrible wailing. The great Finals Erasure had worked to more devastating effect than you had anticipated, and things had… escalated. Then Greg proved himself to be less human than the ants , who themselves had turned out to be such surprising little beings. So. The orders for the heinous deed did in fact come from him. Now, there are things that have to be done. You call the ants back out of hiding and get to work. In the end, it was easier than you thought it would be. You talk to all the neighbors, without Greg. You hide the relevant pieces of mail. You have the scuba gear and the stuff from the sex shop shipped to a friend’s house. You ensure your spies among the Greggorites have escape plans, though Zé assures you they are ready to sacrifice themselves to the cause. “I’m not that kind of Deity,” you tell her. The night before, your ants slip a double dose of tylenol p.m. into Greg’s milkshake. You almost laugh; all your efforts to make sure there is only soup to make for dinner, and he comes home with Burger King. He sleeps so soundly that he never comes close to waking the whole time you are attaching the padded bondage equipment to his limbs and hiding with him in the closet. The walk through by the company inspectors that morning is a tense moment, but as you suspect, they don’t open the closets. After they leave to do their work outside, you finish your work inside, tying Greg to his bed. By the time he starts to wake up, you are sitting in a chair in the doorway to his bedroom, with your mask on. The air is beginning to thicken and discolor. Greg coughs around his ball gag and opens his eyes. You feel curiously calm and empty. “Hi, Greg.” Your voice is muffled, “You like my dive mask?” Greg makes an angry questioning noise, spread eagled to the full extension of his limbs. “Oh, yeah, that must be uncomfortable. Can’t give you enough slack to jerk against the ropes, though, or you might leave tell-tale bruises through the padding.” More angry noises, coughing. “Hhhmm? Oh, did I forget to tell you? It’s termite day, Greg, they’ve tented the house. That’s Sulfuryl Fluoride you’re breathing. You’ll cough for a bit, you’ll throw up, and your heart will stop.” He’s thrashing around as much as the ropes will allow, which isn’t a lot. He’s pretty energetic about it, though; maybe he can’t hear you over his efforts. “You shouldn’t have meddled around with godhood, it didn’t suit you. Power compromised your judgement. You definitely shouldn’t have fucking killed my dog, Greg” You’re suddenly filled with rage. You need to know he hears you. You stride over to the bed and grab him by the throat. Not too hard, you try to remember through your anger, no bruises. The grip is enough to make Greg stop thrashing and look at you with wide wide eyes. “YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE FUCKING KILLED NAYA YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT! WHY? WHY? HOW COULD YOU!? SHE NEVER DID ANYTHING TO YOU!” Just as suddenly, your anger is gone. You feel tired. You look down at him and shake your head.”Time to die, Greg.” You cross the room and sit back down in your chair in the doorway. Watching him die isn’t easy, but it’s not as hard as watching Naya suffer through acute kidney failure. Afterwards, you take off all the bondage gear, throw it in a duffel bag. You leave through the back, rolling out from under the fumigation tent against the back fence, and packing the scuba gear into the duffel before you climb into the neighbors yard. A month later, you’re moving from town to town. The colony has become so large you’re going to need a bigger truck full of clay for them to live in. Maybe an old Uhaul. The ants bring you a newspaper. They bring you everything now, food, money, information. Word of how you value the life of each individual ant has spread through the colony, and reports brought back from the apartment by scouts confirming your status as a godslayer has …elevated… their worship of you. You open the newspaper to find Greg’s death has made the papers. No suspicion of foul play despite the exterminator company lawyers insisting on an autopsy. Tylenol p.m. in his system accounted for his presence in the building, it was decided, and the failure of the inspectors to notice Greg in bed during their walk through was settled out of court, paid off by their insurance. The ants bring you a conga line of grapes, peeling them for you while you stare off into space. A small line of ants brings the peels back to the colony larder. You’re going to have to teach them how to disable cameras - the leaked security footage of hundred dollar bills slipping themselves out under the bank doors has caused a bit of a stir on some parts of the internet… you eat another grape, and count your money. As usual you put half of it in an envelope, uncapping a sharpie to write “From Naya” on it. The ants will slip it under the door of the local animal shelter for you tonight. END

_____________________________________________________________________

so, looking back, I feel I should tell you that when I wrote the final chapter of this I had just become homeless and had to leave my dog in a better home than I could provide. It’s cool, we still see each other a lot these days, I was just real sad about it and it effected what I wrote. Anyway, that’s the Ant Cthulhu story

#ant cthulhu #ant #ants #writing #fiction #story

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gayacademicwriter · 3 years

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a snippet | and you call me the villain | hero & villain [part 2]

trigger warnings: knives, implications of abuse

"Stand with your feet wider—just a bit." The villain coaxed Jessie to change her stance, the newly-built practice and training wing of his house ringing loudly with the thwack of Finley's solid knife-throwing. The kid had picked it up only recently, but was already hitting the target every time without fail.

It had been five months since the villain had kidnapped (rescued) the four of them—Finley, Alex, Jessie, and Jennie. When the villain had returned home that night, he had immediately ushered Finley to the on-hand medical staff, while entrusting the care of Alex, Jessie, and Jennie to his most trustworthy maid, Lina. While Finley's wounds healed the villain searched for a governess, as well as targets, dulled-down practice throwing knives, a variety of other weapons, and furniture to outfit four new rooms.

In the time that the villain had had the children in his custody, the hero had gone on an absolute rampage, claiming that his 'four dearest, and most beloved children,' had gone missing and had been kidnapped. The citywide manhunt for the villain had begun, and was still technically ongoing. Tucked away in the country backwoods, though, he doubted he would be found anytime soon.

Jessie's arm moved, her weight shifting, and the knife thunked against the well-worn wood. She jumped up and down delightedly.

"I did it!"

The villain beamed, and patted her on the head, handing her the two others. These, too, were solid throws and hit the outer edges of the target. Finley grinned.

"Well done, Jess."

"I wanna try!" Another voice, identical to Jessie's, interrupted the steady beat of Finley's throwing. Jennie bounced up and down as the villain, one knee on the dirt, instructed her the same way he'd instructed Jessie.

"Your arm moves forward, like this." He moved her arm for her in demonstration. "No flicking your wrist, okay?"

Jennie nodded very seriously. The villain encouraged her to take a throw with a smile.

During the first few weeks, the villain had been most worried about Jennie. She had not been eating enough, she was frequently sickly, and was plagued by a constant cough and fever. Frequently tended to by Lina, and fed properly, the little girl had gotten better, and had returned to good enough health that she could participate fully in Anna, the governess' lessons, and in training lessons.

The villain eyed Alex's set with a sigh. He was probably off reading, in his room. Finley had told the villain Alex took time to adjust to change. The villain hoped that that was true.

The others had all adjusted in a blink. Finley's back had healed as best as it would, and his aim was improving daily. Jessie and Jennie were as inseparable as always, twin menaces—a fact that the villain had found out the hard way when he'd discovered that they had worked very hard to stack a table, a chair and a stool on top of each other so they could put a bucket of water on a partially open door. The villain had also fallen prey to motorized toy mice running across the floors and what had looked like ants in the sugar bowl.

What the villain had found about Finley was that they were surprisingly like he was—gearing up to right old wrongs. The kid had taken to training like a person obsessed, and the villain reckoned he might be able to transform Finley into a right little villain soon.

Alex poked his head out from the door. "Can I join?"

The villain nodded, handing the set to its owner's outstretched hands.

"'Course you can."

Surveying the room—the four kids, their progress thus far, their jokes, their laughter, their joy at their freedom—the villain smiled.

These were his kids now, and nobody would hurt them. Never again.

—

if you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee!

#villain #hero #asshole hero #good parent villain #hero/villain #heroes and villains #fluff #snippet #writing #my writing #not a prompt #ficlet #pt. 2 #tw knives #tw abuse implication

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