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tabletoptrinketsbyjj · 4 years

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Trinkets, 33: Interesting baubles, semi magical objects and items touched by mystery.

A wax stamp that changes insignia depending on the proximity of the nearest royal blooded individual.

A hollowed, curled demon horn. When blown, it sounds like tortured screaming.

A strange note, written on bloody human flesh. Examining the ragged piece of flesh reveals a reeking stench of sweat and tears. A series of crude gouges in the skin pulsate and seep blood. They seem to form a pattern, and the reader can just make out the following: “Beware the Avatar of the Crawling Chaos, the Heart of Darkness knows no mercy.”

A sharp tooth as long as a human hand. Looking at it makes a humanoid creature uneasy in a deeply primal way.

A glowing orb that has a hidden button on it. Pressing it reveals several smaller variously colored orbs inside, which escape the orb and start to orbit it, like planets around a star. Pressing the button again causes the spheres to retreat back into the glowing one.

A sealed glass petri dish holding a small ooze like substance labeled, "Experiment #1".

A perfume vinaigrette shaped like a tiny, long amphora. Made of some silvery metal and worked all over with tarnished curlicue. If shaken, the vinaigrette rattles, as if filled with large grains. Its lid clicks open, allowing, from the grated neck, a mossy odor of chypre. A scent neither in vogue nor disliked, today. The scent does not run out, nor fade.

A long scroll made out of weathered parchment with a broken wax seal. The material is covered in strange diagrams of inhuman anatomy at crazy, disjointed angles.

A piece of parchment torn from a notebook, written on it are a list of names and causes of death.

A lead slate, five inches by four, and quite worn, with five lines of text written across the back in small, punched holes. Each line appears to be the same phrase, simply repeated in five languages. The first, punched out in the symbols and tongue of Ancient Dwarven, which is still legible today, reads "What wrought we here should be forgot."

—Keep reading for 90 more trinkets.

—Note: The previous 10 items are repeated for easier rolling on a d100.

A wax stamp that changes insignia depending on the proximity of the nearest royal blooded individual.

A hollowed, curled demon horn. When blown, it sounds like tortured screaming.

A sharp tooth as long as a human hand. Looking at it makes a humanoid creature uneasy in a deeply primal way.

A sealed glass petri dish holding a small ooze like substance labeled, "Experiment #1".

A long scroll made out of weathered parchment with a broken wax seal. The material is covered in strange diagrams of inhuman anatomy at crazy, disjointed angles.

A piece of parchment torn from a notebook, written on it are a list of names and causes of death.

An elongated, angular mask designed for masquerade balls. It features a large pair of velveted antlers and a crown of lustrous ivy.

An antique pipe that has a carved parrot wearing a tricorn hat perched on its bowl. The smoke that billows from the chamber is colored a wild mix of reds, blues, and greens.

A small jar of a sweet smelling green paste. When applied to the tender inflamed skin, it soothes and numbs the pain, replacing it with a pleasant tingling sensation for a few hours.

A coffin shaped scrollcase filled to the brim with loose sheets of yellowed paper. They are covered with maddened scrawl and diagrams and calculations and degenerate ranting.

An oil lamp made from a turtle's shell embellished with gold leaf and a copper handle.

A bronze bowl engraved with pagan figures, one side shows a city at war and another shows it at peace. The metal of the bowl is corroded, gone all green and black.

A surgeon’s amputation saw with a bone handle engraved with pictographs of burial rituals.

Kolain Drop: A small tin canister containing a few dozen candies made from amber sugar, spun into a shape resembling the outline of a teardrop (Although a cynic might claim they look like candy nooses) and coated in dark chocolate. Licking a Kolain makes it harder to concentrate on sad memories for a short while, but finishing a whole drop while focusing on a specific memory accentuates the positive emotions of that memory and makes it easier to deal with the associated negative emotions.

A prosthetic eye made of ivory and set with an opal iris. The eye whispers unintelligible breathy words to the bearer in the dark and if worn during sleep, the bearer suffers from terrible, barely remembered Random Nightmares.

A beautifully crafted silver pocket watch that functions but the hands tick backwards.

A ship in a bottle suspended above water that sloshes and froths rhythmically, regardless of whether or not it is moved or shaken. The ship bobs cheerfully in the water and is relaxing to look upon.

A bassoon with the bell joint carved into the shape of a dragon’s head that shoots smoke rings when played.

An iron mask resembling a skull with its mouth sowed shut.

A large tapestry made from an unidentifiable thread. Strange symbols and stranger images fill every space, chaotically strewn about the thread work with no apparent pattern. No centralized theme or focus can be made out, but the likeliness of several important figures and deities can be made out amongst alien creatures and other, unknown people. The tapestry is unfinished on one side, making it obvious that the project is still a work in progress.

A large hourglass which in place of sand, has dozens of tiny teeth of all shapes and kinds flowing between the two bulbs, each one glowing with a faint red light. The flow of the device switches directions at random times for no visible reason, with no bulb ever holding all the teeth.

A wanted poster that resembles one of the PC's but the hairstyle and colour are completely wrong.

A freshly dead messenger raven with a tiny scroll tube tied to its leg. Within is a small parchment with some sort of coded battle report written on it.

A fairly well made wooden mask that has been carved to resemble the facial features of the minor God of Random Domain. A creature actively wearing the mask see's the world through the eye holes with a slightly altered perception as if they are being subtly influenced by the nature of the God.

A simple but finely crafted leather armband embossed with a branch-like pattern.

A one gallon cask of a rare liquor known as Hag's Blood. A strong fruit wine with the hyphae of a fungus growing through it. It has to be fed a bit of sugar every year to keep the fungus alive, or else it just becomes a normal fruit wine. It is drank slowly, and induces hallucinogenic effects in the drinker.

A wide, flat bronze bracelet carved with couples entwining.

A large brass medal of military service. It once bore an intricate casting of a lion's head. But it has been polished smooth over many years.

A small medicine bottle, halfway filled with a herbal remedy.

A small portrait of a group of friends, all but one of them with a date written next to their name.

A blue and gold diviner's scroll covered in text that change every morning at dawn. The writing is usually cryptic message about future events.

An ocarina seemingly crafted from snowflake obsidian that produces some decently low notes and is shaped somewhat like an aquatic animal of some sort.

A silver coin with a siren on heads and a banshee on tails. When the coin is flipped it will make ominous wailing sounds until the outcome is revealed.

A brick taken from a haunted house. The brick grows sharp, jagged teeth at night which retract during the day.

A small goldfish skeleton preserved in a clear glass orb.

An amalgam of dozen small animal skulls, each from a different creature, all compressed and partly melted into a heavy, fist-sized ball of horror.

A bag of glass eye marbles fashioned in various shades of blue, green, brown, and hazel. When a marble is rolled on the ground, it always appears to be looking at the creature who rolled it.

A music box in the shape of a clockwork raven that sits atop a porcelain skull. Winding the mechanism plays an eerie tune, while the raven pecks the empty eye socket to the rhythm of the music

A small leather pouch filled with strong-smelling healing herbs.

A leather wallet stamped with the holy symbol of a God of a Random Domain. It contains a set of certified identification papers denoting that the bearer is an ordained member of a religion who worships said Deity. The section containing the priest's physical description (Height, weight, sex, race, eye, skin and hair colour) is completely blank and could be filled in by anyone with half decent handwriting.

A wooden, toy rocking horse, carved to look like a horse whose skin has been removed, muscles, tendons, and blood vessels are all intricately shown. In some areas, even those layers have been removed in favor of exposing parts of the horses skeleton.

A simple lantern with a hood covering. The hood spins as the base plays a music box tune to reveal pictures of clawed monsters, winged demons, witches and wolves on the wall. Different hoods can be placed on to show different scenes.

A carving of a boar made of quartz and no longer than a person’s thumb.

A clockwork dismembered hand wearing a white glove with an ornate signet ring and dress shirt cuff with gemmed cuff links. It moves around on its fingers when wound up.

A handheld mirror with a cobalt border engraved with strange runes. Instead of your reflection, you see nothing but mist in its surface.

A fire opal carved into a small coin. The obverse sigil is a picture of rainfall. The reverse is an elven phrase that translates to “Let us take what nature will not provide.”

A single small, filthy earring that when worn, allows the bearer to speak the language of the goblins, but only to say: "I don't actually speak Goblin. I only know that sentence, and this one explaining it.” The bearer is not granted the ability to understand the language and doesn’t comprehend what they just said unless they are already fluent.

A wooden relic carved from bronzewood, in the shape of a serpent. It can always adjust to fit snugly around the bearer's forearm. It writhes occasionally, when seen out of the corner of your eye.

A travel case for a Random Musical Instrument. The case is made of hardwood covered in boiled leather sealed in beeswax with rubber seals around the opening. The inside is lined with velvet sheltering the instrument from the harshest jostling the bearer might endure. An adjustable carry strap allows the bearer to wear it in whatever manner is most comfortable for them. Whatever type of instrument the case is deigned to carry, the case contains one such musical device (Or a set of devices) within it.

A shawl of beautiful rainbow color with lace frilled edges resembling clouds.

A black coin with two grim sides. One side bears the staring visage of a spiral-horned woman with mean eyes. Its opposing face displays an eyeless skull. A tarry blackbird, ragged, follows the carrier of said coin at cautious distance, watching with fish’s eyes.

A branding iron the length of a human hand, whose business end is forged in the shape of the phrase: “Random Motto”. The brand could be used to stamp leather or flesh and might have been used by an individual or organization to mark its goods, armor or members.

A brooch composed of three overlapping green-enameled nickel silver leaves secured together by rusted hinges. The enamel is cracked and dusty. If worn, the leaves click together; a sound reminiscent of clinking spurs on riding boots.

A chunk of amber included by a blackened, fossilized thing curled up upon itself. It is big-headed and roughly humanoid, like a minute fetus, but has distinct ridges or spurs running down its curved spine.

A clay whistle, shaped like a toothless, leering skull. With some practice, a user may develop a queer embouchure and play the thing, which requires a forceful blow into the cranium. It produces no music; only a high and rattling cry of human terror. A blood-curdling scream.

A die with six sides. An inch square, and cut from decayed walrus ivory. The carved faces, their lines filled with dirt, are thus: A long-fingered hand, a thin eye, an acorn, a seven-pointed star, a spiny fish, and a rose in full bloom. When rolled, the fish consistently lands facing up.

A dried serpent, coiled in a foggy crystal tube sealed with wax. A husk of a creature, like onion skins wrapped around brittle fishbones. A leak of ash and smothered cinders spills from a split in its long, desiccated gut.

A glass jar, blue, sagging with the slow melt of ages. Within are three seeds, somehow not yet turned to dust. They are like those of a pumpkin, or squash, but are reddish and much pointier.

A green, glass apple barely skinned with flaking gold leaf. Within, there are visible countless rivers of incredibly tiny veins, fibers, and seeds, as if a real apple were refashioned precisely as glass. Said seeds are glimmering red, perhaps rubies. The apple is profoundly strong and cannot easily break.

A handheld fan with lightweight steel leaves. When fully opened on its creaking rivet, it forms three quarters of a circle. The leaves are spotted with delicate openwork in flowering geometric patterns, some of which have been eaten through by rust.

A bright red, strip of cloth, stitched with images of a cheering crowd throwing garlands toward a chariot. It fits across the bearer's shoulder and then diagonally down their chest to reach their opposite hip.

A strangely shaped piece of whittled driftwood with dozens of holes in it. When the correct hole is blown into, it mimics the sound of the ocean.

A large locket, its case and door crafted from faceted, cracked, yellowed glass cut like a rectangular gem. Its interior frame holds not a painting, nor an etching, but a fuzzy, silver mirror. The mirror, when polished, has a hidden effect: If one looks into it, centers their face in the frame, and focuses upon the background, they may discern a tall, unmoving woman there, towering behind them. She is ghostly, as if cut into the silver, and looks on with deep, piercing eyes. A pair of long, spiraling horns extend from her gaunt and mirthless head.

A miniature, silver-plated skull inlaid with black fretwork. The skullcap lifts of on a tiny hinge, revealing holes for three vials, grouped in a triangle, within. Only two vials are there. They are octagonal, ruby red barrels capped with silver.

A bolt of coarse, beige, jute cloth wrapped in a protective oilskin case.

A monocle-like disc upon a fragment of silver chain. Unfit for wear as a monocle, as the thick, yellowed lens is scratched and scuffed with countless minutia and little pitted points. The points seem to coalesce as a man-shaped form. If set before a bright light, the lens projects a diagram: A flayed man, splayed in anatomical position, with labels in an odd language indicating his spilled organs and opened bodily structures.

An old harmonica engraved with a compass card and a variety of fish. When played on land it summons a fresh breeze smelling of salt and seaweed, putting everyone within earshot in a melancholic mood and longing for the sea.

An iron hook, barbed, like those meant for fishing, but quite too large. Two links of rusted, cast iron chain trail from it, followed by a flat, similarly cast tag of iron. It shows, under ample rust, the simple etching of a bony man hung by a hook sunk through his collarbone. Three runes, like circles cut with spurs, are stamped below. The tag has another hole opposite the attachment of its links, suggesting more where attached thereafter.

An ivory comb, the kind meant to lay flat and stay a plate of hair. Blackened, either with age or with purposeful tarnish, and carved on its handle with images of plagued skeletons, obviously undead, spilling over each other in a chilling accurate depiction of frozen, unnaturally insectile movement.

A petrified egg, slightly orange, with one side cut away. A hideous embryo, also fossilized, is curled there. It is a long-backed, anencephalic neonate with long, rodent-like incisors that join to form a sort of beak. It clutches, in three-fingered hands, its own tail. The thing is shot through with long maggots turned by time into red stone.

A silver brooch shaped like an imperious face framed by stylized, curling locks. It has small, yellow garnets for eyes. The eyes seem to be backed by mirrors, for they flash with an unusual brightness while in light. The brooch is magnetic, on its iron back, and connects powerfully to metal objects.

A silver tube, long, worked with branchwork, and thin, filled with yellow powder. Said powder smells of hickory and some astringent tang. It fills the tube, which is closed with a screw cap, to the brim.

A small, ivory figure nailed to a Y-shaped crucifix, also ivory. The figure is carved in excellent detail. Though emaciated and wracked in stiff-limbed agony, a wide and tooth grin is present on the figure's hollow-eyed face.

A small knife, unfit for fighting, with small notches and teeth, like those of a key, cut into its edge. Plainly made from dark, patinated iron. Shiny and sharpened at the hard, toothy edge.

A square bell, rather small, and unusually heavy. Smooth, unrusted, with a short tongue that wags with only great force. It sheds no sound; only heavy vibrations that shake the hand, vibrate one's teeth in their sockets, and touch ringing tones of nearby metal objects.

A squarish iron key, large, with three blocky teeth. One of the teeth rotates, with some difficulty, grinding with rust. The wide, handle portion of the key is also rusted, but depicts, in bas relief, a square door with a howling, heavy-browed face above the keyhole.

A strange pin, like a clothier might use for sewing, but larger, and with a slightly serrated shaft and a red glass bead for a head. Larger than is useful by a factor of two. If stuck in red-blooded flesh, into which it sinks readily, the red bead glows, faintly, flickering like a faint flame in a bloody shade.

A slide whistle made of bone, carved in the shape of an emaciated skeletal figure, mouth agape at the end. When played, it emits an eerie ghostly sounds that can be varied in pitch with the slide.

A thick crystal sphere, large as a grapefruit. Delicate fronds of green flora lie within, all sprouted in a choked abundance from a mess of roots and humus. Yellow dust, perhaps pollen, swirls about the stems amidst motes of white gas. The sphere does not open, and the plants within are like none seen on the earth.

Two glass eyeballs in a tarnished silver box with gold hinges. The orbs lie on dusty, red velvet divots. They are green glass and irregularly shaped in the back. Oddly convoluted inside, like jelly and fish eggs. Gold leaf irises lie under the hard, crystal lenses.

A heady, sweet smelling noose made of still-living flowers and freshly cut vines.

A massive cloth and leather banner emblazoned with the unified crests of ten different fey courts.

A white marble mortar, quite small, chained to its pestle with a thin iron leash. Stained on the interior with blotchy brown. Carved on the outside with simple images of tiny, impish individuals grinding teeth in mortars just large enough to accommodate a molar.

A whale tooth decanter scrimshawed with the image of a gargoyle within a star.

A darkwood and brass door knocker with the image of a rock gnome, and a tower within a teardrop shape. It is of ancient workmanship.

A matching pair of brass bangles, each decorated with the symbol of a sheaf of grain and an oak leaf.

A highly polished shell horn made of walrus tusk.

A beautifully-written madrigal, the first line reading "Your blazing mass negates any prudence." in Dwarvish.

A large tin canister whose lid is stamped with the image of barn, whose interior reveals a farmer milking a cow. The container is filled with dozens of well-preserved strips of beef jerky.

A white handkerchief, slightly yellowed, bordered in black thread. The soft, silky weave sloughs away all soaked or stuck-on mess once fully dried, no matter how dirty. Impossible to tear, by hand, but frayed around the edges. Bears a monogram in one corner; a rune reminiscent of a G, but with more curls.

A short scroll wrapped around a pair of dowels, bearing runic script and celestial patterns painted in rich, bold inks.

A small harp with a body made out of an opaque golden glass that seem to glow as the instrument is played.

A dark black cowl made from a fine matte cloth. The edge of the cowl is lined with a dull silver trim inscribed with shimmering symbols of Thieves Cant.

An ancient set of pipes made from the hollowed out finger bones of a dead bard, whose soul is still bound to them. When music is played from the instrument, listeners can faintly make out a gentle vocal accompaniment that perfectly fits whatever is being played.

A porcelain mask featuring a laughing face and a wide open mouth, and has all manner of colours and inlays on it. Inside the open mouth is just a black void that reflects no light, not even a glossy sheen.

An elven hunting cap that’s especially elongated, visually mirroring an elf’s elongated, pointed ears. It’s black, and the brim is pinned on one side with a tourmaline brooch, holding an iridescent peryton feather.

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kittae · 5 years

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...By Its Cover

Pairing: Yoongi x Female reader

Genre: Fluff, foster kitten dad!Yoongi, Drabble

Warnings: beware of cavity-inducing sweetness!

Words: 2k

Susie’s a cute diner just outside the city centre, open from 7 AM to 10 PM every day and your workplace for the past two years. It’s a cozy little thing, with uplifting pop music in the morning and jazzy, relaxing background music in the evening. You got some nice coworkers and the pay isn’t bad at all. You never mind going to work despite having the morning shift more often than not and the ugly salmon pink uniform you were obligated to wear. When you enter through the employee entrance at the back of the building, Jungkook is the first face to greet you every morning. He’s always the first one there, making sure his kitchen and stoves are spick and span before the first customers arrive.

“Morning,___” He smiles, waving a yellow dishrag and almost slapping himself in the face doing so.

Chuckling, you shake your head and place your bag behind the counter. “Morning, Kook.”

Jungkook turns up the volume of the radio a bit and you recognize the song, having you hum along to it as you take off your jacket and tie your hair up.

“You’re in a good mood,” He remarks, mimicking your actions as he brushes his hair back to put on his hairnet.

You shrug as you face him, “Wouldn’t see why not?”

The light jingle of the door rings in your ears and you watch the cook’s expression morph into an awkward grimace. “I think the reason just walked in.”

You don’t need to turn around to know why he said that. In fact, you can already feel the cold chill of his presence before you had to see him with your own two eyes.

“Can I get a double-size with six extra espresso shots?” The familiar voice sounds from behind you, your mind simultaneously droning off the order on automatic pilot before he was even finished speaking.

You silently take a deep breath and release an even deeper sigh before you turn around with a bright albeit forced smile on your fresh face.

“Coming right up. Anything to eat with that?” Your voice strains when it shoots up two octaves too high, to sound friendly, but the look on your customer’s face confirms you just sound like a chipmunk on steroids.

“No, just the usual is fine.” He says slowly as if you won’t understand him if he doesn’t and you don’t like his attitude one bit.

Your smile painfully widens again, but your eyes roll in their sockets when you turn on your heel to prepare the coffee machine. You wait for the beans to grind so the noise can cover you quietly grumbling when you don’t even bother to use your inside voice, wondering out loud who in the world drinks a concoction like that on an empty stomach. He looks like he could desperately use some food in his system, though. Every day he looks more worn out and tired, dark circles under his eyes and drained of energy. It’s like he lives on caffeine alone.

Usually, you’d have no qualms playfully scolding customers for their unhealthy habits, talk to them or just ask them questions in general but it’s different with this one. After you’d asked him for his name because you like to have a bit of a connection with your regulars, he looked at you as if you’d grown two heads and dryly asked you if this was a Starbucks or something before going back to scrolling through whatever app he’s always on on his phone. He never stays longer than thirty minutes, though.

“Here you are,” you put the big mug of pure, unsweetened black coffee down on the counter in front of him, “Let me know if there’s anything else I can get you.”

He grunts out an unintelligible sound in response. It could be ‘thank you’, ‘whatever’ or ‘I will’, you’re not sure.

You’re about to let it drop and ignore him in favour of hanging out with Jungkook a bit to talk about your weekend when he suddenly clears his throat.

Caught a bit off guard because he never initiates conversation in any way, you come closer to hear what he wants.

“Yes?”

“Can you… It’s a weird thing to ask but can you fill this with hot water?” He slightly blushes as he holds up a rubber bag with a stopper. “Please.”

“Uh, sure…” You smile friendly enough but the shallow crease between your eyebrows can’t hide your confusion. What does he need this for? Does his back ache or something? And have you ever seen him blush like that before? You’re completely thrown off but head to the kitchen to fill in his request anyway.

When you come back, you see him crouched over to the side with a lopsided but fond smile on his face. Your ears register tiny squeaks for the first time, barely audible but unmistakably that of baby animals. Unable to suppress your curiosity, you make your way to the other side of the counter to find out what’s happening.

You gasp when you see the large nursing bag made of soft and padded fabric, counting five squirming and peeping baby kittens inside with blankets and stuffed animals to accompany them. The usually grumpy boy’s face lightens up like the sun coming out from between rain clouds, one more newborn kitten in the palm of his hand as he holds it to his chest and a small bottle of milk in the other. The kitten greedily suckles on the little pacifier, milk spilling all over its tiny snout and into its barely grown fur. They look like they’ve just recently opened their eyes, too. Not that you’re an expert, but your heart is positively melting at the sight.

“They’re so cute!” You can’t help but squeal as you marvel over the babies (and the guy nursing them but you’re not admitting that right now).

He nods, shooting a genuinely adorable and gummy smile your way and straight through your chest like heavy artillery bullets. “They’re only around two weeks old but they’re doing so well! It’s been hard feeding them every two hours every day but it’s so rewarding to see them grow up healthy. I’m so relieved.”

Here you are. An idiot. A fool. A god damn buffoon for thinking he was a cold frog with a bad attitude all this time when he was just exhausted from keeping these babies alive and taking care of them. You wanted to smack yourself in the face.

“Oh– here, I filled it with hot water.” You remember you’re still holding the hot water bag and carefully lay it down in the nursing bag, covering it with the fleece blanket so it wouldn’t be too hot for the babies’ fragile skin. Of course it was for them.

“Thank you,” he smiles again, eyes all soft albeit bloodshot from lack of sleep as he delicately puts the tiny kitten back when it’s full. You felt bad for him, a desperate need for him to get some rest washing over you out of nowhere.

“When’s the last time you ate?” You inquire carefully, lips folding in a slightly worried smile.

You watch him scratch his head trying to remember and you know enough.

“I’ll be right back.”

Before he can protest, you’re already telling Jungkook to cook up a full breakfast on the house. You ignore him when he raises his brows and gives you a surprised look.

“You really didn’t have to,” the guy blushes again when you put the plate of fresh, hot and steamy food down on the counter. You had Jungkook throw in some extra sausages, too.

“I really did. You can thank me by finishing it all.” You grin unapologetically, ignoring the heat spreading over your cheeks.

He starts eating a bit hesitantly, but quickly stuffs his face when he realizes how hungry he actually is.

“You know, you can take better care of others when you take care of yourself as well, right?” You feel comfortable enough to scold him a bit now.

He flashes you a tight-lipped, guilty smile and shrugs. “I think it’s the lack of sleep… I thought i wasn’t hungry but,” he points at his empty plate. He finished that in record time.

“Want some more?” You offer but he laughs and shakes his head, politely declining.

“It was just what I needed. Thanks for that, really.” He murmurs, shyly looking away and busying himself by softly petting the kittens. “Ah… I kind of feel like a freeloader now.”

“Don’t worry about it, seriously.” You assure him. “Can I?”

Your hand awkwardly hovers over the little kittens and he understands you’d like to pet them as well. A giggle escapes him before he knows it, making a new blush flare up and turn his ears bright red. You almost choke on your spit.

“S-sure! Do you… Do you want to try feeding one?” He asks.

“Oh! wow, I- I’d love to! Can I really?” Your eyes grow in size and excitement bubbles in your chest. You’ve always loved animals but you were never allowed to have pets when you were younger. Now you’re living alone, your apartment has a strict no-pet policy as well. “I don’t have any experience with this though, are you sure it’s okay?”

“Yeah, no problem. Here, I’ll show you.” He carefully takes a kitten from the bag and wraps it in a blanket, then places them in your lap. “First you’ll wrap the kitten in the blanket so it stays warm. Make sure he’s not laying on his back but down on his belly. Then you’ll take the bottle– hold it like this, yeah– and let him drink at his own pace. Hold his neck like this… Yeah, keep him steady. You’re doing great.”

The little guy is latching onto the bottle nipple just fine, tiny ears quivering in contentment and eyes big and focused as he drinks. It makes a warm feeling spread through your chest.

“Do you do this often?” You ask, glancing back at their caretaker, “Taking care of kittens, I mean.”

He nods, “Yeah, I’m kind of trying to set up a foster home for abandoned and found kittens. Adult cats, too. I’m just… having a little trouble financially.” He looks embarrassed but you don’t see why he would have to be.

“I think it’s really cool and noble of you to help these babies. You can always come here for free breakfast if you want.” You wink before directing your undivided attention back on the kitten.

He chuckles, his eyes scanning your face without realizing how long they stay lingering.

“I know you said we’re not Starbucks, but do you want to tell me your name now?” You ask when you put the kitten back after it drank the whole bottle. It instantly nestles itself against the hot water bag to take a nap with its brothers and sisters.

“Oh… fuck, did I really say that?” The blush on his cheeks deepens furiously. “I’m sorry… Uh, it’s Yoongi.”

“Nice to finally meet you, Yoongi,” you laugh lightheartedly, “I’m–”

“___.” He blurts out before he can stop himself, taking you both by surprise. “Y-your name tag…”

“Ah, I see,” you chuckle and the air feels thick as you both avoid each other’s eyes.

“Do you want to-”

“Y-you first?” He asks, nervously brushing his hair back to give himself some posture.

“I- I just wanted to… You know, uh, ask if you w-want another cup of coffee?” You inwardly cringe and scream but you can’t take it back now, damn it.

Yoongi smiles that gummy smile again and you decide you’re screwed. “Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks.”

“Okay...What did you want to ask me?”

His eyes widen. “I...I’ll tell you later.”

“Oh, o-okay. I’ll go make your coffee.”

“Okay.”

Your hands are shaking as you try to click the filter into the machine, your head heavy and light at the same time when you hear a whistle next to you. It’s Jungkook, leaning over the wall with a big, stupid grin on his face.

“Woah, that was painful to watch.” He laughs, giving you a meaningful look.

“Shut up. Don’t you have burgers to flip?”

“It’s 9am…”

“Flip your burgers, Jungkook!”

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heavensmortuary · 5 years

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So like this is the thing I made for my co-op thing, and its a blurb of the thing I'm writing! You don't have to read it if you don't want to, I'm just putting this out here ^^

This Is Where I Leave You

“This is where I leave you,” he said, “I won’t go farther.” The boat knocked against the algae-slick stairs, their corroded metal rattling the entire front of the building. I thanked the man, gave him his money, which he was careful to count before I stepped off into the rusty water, which gave up its sharp metallic scent. The archway reminded me of a whale’s mouth carved right into the grotto wall, sucking in the metal steps in its endless search for nourishment. I would be its next meal, a sacrifice perhaps. My boots clanged on the steps I began my ascent upward, and I heard the man gathering up the oars to take off, their wood clacking against the boat, shaking off the frost that had collected there.

His last words burned at something in my mind. I turned, ”Why won’t you go in? What should I expect inside?” He raised his bushy eyebrows, worked his mouth looking for an answer. Then his face cleared, and he sighed.

“That’s just the thing; call me a coward, but I don’t know what’s inside.” He dipped an oar into the water, pushed off from one of the submerged steps. He tipped his wide hat sympathetically. “Luck be to you.” And with that, he waved kindly, and settled into a slow, soft paddle.

I watched him drift away, and the farther he went, the closer the fear I’d choked down so long came. I discovered that my hand had become rigid with the cold where it clenched the metal railing as I headed forward, and it left a handprint burned onto the metal. The door at the top was wooden, streaks of green moss in its sodden wood like verdant scabs in its grain. For some reason, my mind had conjured up the idea that there would be some sort sign, perhaps saying something like, “Beware, turn back!” or “Death awaits all who enter here.”, but there was nothing, just a brown wooden door. A rusted doorknob was fused into it, and it might have had some sort of intricate pattern etched into it at some point. There were no locks, unless the rusted hinges counted. I turned the handle, and when that gave way to nothing, I threw my body against it, teeth clacking together with the impact. No time for hesitation. It shuddered, then fell open, nearly tossing me inside.

Dark. The deep sort of shadow that ate the light it touched, the kind that moved of its own accord, not the light’s. I recognized this sort of darkness, and my mind screamed that I would not step into it. I would have stepped backward, back down the steps, and slipping into the freezing rusty water, would have rather swam back to shore than let it swallow me. But there was the smell of must, of decay. It was like forgotten rooms, and that meant that something was there at least, and that I must go in. Giving up to fear would defeat me far worse than anything the cavern could hold, and so I stepped inside, sticking one foot tentatively out in front of the other. Maybe this was the sign to turn away others.

The open doorway didn’t light up any part of the abyss I found myself in. It was a glowing portal, a means of escape, nothing more. Ahead was…nothing. The floor was smooth, like frozen glass, but it made no sound even as my steps faltered, no matter how heavy the foot fall. My lungs burned with the cold air inside, thick with the scent of stirred dust that had been undisturbed for decades, or longer, the kind that stuck to the roof of your mouth. Step step step step, silent except for my breathing, which sounded weak and horribly clamorous at the same time. Walking used to calm my nerves during particularly bad days, and I replayed this mindset for this situation, to steady my heartbeat. Minutes ticked off with each step. Was I getting closer, or farther? My arms flailed around. Were there walls? I turned my head in the direction I hoped was back, or to my right, and just saw the pinprick star of the doorway. I kept walking forward, away, keeping my head turned. Step, step, step, step. And the star was gone. A sudden feral fear gushed within me as soon as my brain registered its disappearance, screaming at my mistake. It was gone. I spun around, ran back towards the vanished star, but it didn’t return, didn’t emerge from hiding. Where had it gone? Where was the doorway? I felt tears rise up, burning, but I didn’t care. I was suffocating in the darkness. My hands grasped my head, shaking involuntarily, each limb invisible to me and detached. I couldn’t see my hands, or anything. The darkness absorbed me, and now I was a part of it, indistinguishable from any other part of it. My legs ran into nothing. Was this what the lost god felt like, running around until it became mindless wandering? I ran, not knowing if I was up or down or neither, and when my breath was gone I would soon blink out.

Slam! The rip-slash pain raced up my nose. My face became full of splinters, and I was never more grateful. A wall! I scratched at it like a trapped rat, felt along the rotten wooden surface. A door had to be in here, the impossibly large room. My fingers numbly sought for hinges, a knob, a space, anything. Something in the wall softened, creaked with the press of a finger. Feeling along the wood, it gave me nothing to find, except for a low whistle behind the soft patch, like wind sweeping over stones. My ear pressed against it, ignorant of the splinter stabs. Crunch, and then a splitting sound. I fell through the wall, and a sudden warmth washed over my body, as did sudden light.

I cried with relief, let the tears wash away any remaining shadow from my body and clothes, pulling clumps of dust out of my hair. There was a ragged hole in the blue painted wall where I had toppled through, dust motes drifting out of it. I had made my own doorway. I had escaped.

Standing, I took in my surroundings. It was a hallway, one end behind me stretching into the dark, the other glowing with warm light. The whistling sound was louder here, and above I saw that the ceiling was made of white cloth, rippling with a current of air blowing right over my head. It reminded me of a sail. It was warm. I ran toward the light, turning around the twists and angles of the hallway, and the farther I ran the less the musty smell clung to the walls, the light leeching it out, and soon I had to squint.

I stumbled into a large room, blinded by a great orange light that enveloped it. As I blinked, adjusting to the sight, I noticed one thing. The smell of fruit, just the tang. It was light, just a whiff, but it was just enough to faintly taste. Raineaku. I remembered sharing quarters of the peach-like fruit with the other kids in the my group after our work was done, a bit of rare peace on cool evenings. The memory was pleasant, but it caught me up. Why that specific scent?

The brightness had settled on everything, and I found myself not in a large room, but at the foot of a huge staircase. Each step filled the length of the room, and led upwards, until I couldn’t see the top, just it continuing onwards and onwards. The orange light dappled from the cloth-like ceiling, now woven with red and orange and yellow curtains, creating a dazzling effect, a display of the light upon the red glass floor. I started the climb, not knowing whether the stairs led to the final room, or endlessly, but I wouldn’t mind either one, lost in the wonderland of warmth and light. I pressed a hand on the wall, and jerked back, and gazed mouth open. The walls rippled with green and orange, smooth to the touch, almost like a peach skin, and the ghost taste of the fruit played on my tongue. Was it because I had just remembered it? I shook away the thought. I had heard of places that change depending on the person within it, but why here? The brilliant light swooped from the enormously high ceiling, rippling on my body as if I were underwater, some kind of open jawed fish.

As I climbed, I began to find that the floor began to soften as my legs tired, each step shifting from red glass, to red carpet. The walls began to change as well. My fingers brushed the waving walls, which changed into soft fabric to a silk-like texture, but this never changed the way the walls felt was if they were holding back water on the other side. The light above shimmered away into purple, and I was in a berry-colored gloom, and then I wasn’t. I was standing at the door at the top of the stairs. There was a circular door, quite regular looking despite its shape. I touched the door knob, shocked by how cold it was compared to the stairway’s humid atmosphere.

I said a quick prayer, I breathed out, tightened my grip, and twisted it, hearing a soft ringing inside the door as if hundreds of tiny locks were undoing themselves, and then it opened, quietly, with a soft whisper of a puff of air that escaped. Something black pooled around my boots, seeping from the doorway, sickly sweet, sickly thick. It stuck to them as I picked up my foot to inspect. “Are you afraid?”

I froze, a chill clinging to my back as I straightened. Something spoke in the room, something with a voice that gurgled like oil bubbled in its throat, choking. “I ask, again, are you afraid?” I heard something move, like cloth being pulled through runny tar. The goo ran down the red steps, ink splashed carelessly on a painting.

“No, I’m not.” I lied. Whatever it was, it moved just out of sight, and it cast a shadow in the shadow. “Are you the lost one? Do you need help?” Please say no. Please say no. I clenched up my fists, ready to swing if it attacked. I couldn’t help feeling slightly angry at its taunt. Instead, a hand, very human-like, melted out of the darkness and extended out of the doorway. It’s slimy fingers unfolded, and a small square object glowed in its palm. The key, stuck to its palm.

“Pull me out of this place, and I’ll unlock the Haven. It’s been a long, long time, hasn’t it?” I heard a fake smile in the voice, a deceiving grin. It reminded me of people that liked to watch people bleed.

It was too easy, too believable. I stepped back and it slugged forward, the sound of its mass detaching from a wall, peeling away. A clear threat. Its side of the door had nothing to grab to exit. How long had it been stuck there? “No, I think you’re fine where you’re at. Can you just toss me the key? I need it.” Wrong words. Foolish words. It gurgled, its imitation of a laugh, or maybe a growl. And then it surged forward, quick, and I threw myself down the stairs, rolling over and over, a bird lighting from a snapping maw, until I could hear nothing but the gentle air whistling overhead, and the creak of a door at the top.

#my writings #My book stuff #so like ill add context later #um also idk how to add a read more :l

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lemon-writings · 5 years

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Playlist: Hamish

The atmosphere of Hamish is best described as “sad, vaguely religious, and dark”, and this playlist conveys that pretty well, in my opinion.

Happy Pills - Weathers

We can go to my house if you wanna / Hang out in my bedroom, lose your honor / Even if they find us, we're apathetic / And they can't take that away

The voices in my right brain are kinda funny / They tell me "take a deep breath, it's always sunny" / But where I leave the lights on / It's so obvious that my life's pretty plain

Choke - I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME

Now shut your dirty mouth / If I could burn this town / I wouldn't hesitate / To smile while you suffocate and die / And that would be just fine / And what a lovely time / That it would surely be / So bite your tongue / And choke yourself to sleep

You get everything you want / And money always talks / To the idiot savants

Daddy Issues - The Neighborhood

I know how much it matters to you / I know that you got daddy issues / And if you were my little girl / I'd do whatever I could do / I'd run away and hide with you / I love that you got daddy issues / And I do too

I keep on trying to let you go / Not even let you know / How I'm getting on / I didn't cry when you left at first / But now that you're dead it hurts / This time I gotta know / Where did my daddy go?

Go ahead and cry little boy / You know that your daddy did too / You know what your mama went through / You gotta let it out soon, just let it out

“From Now On We Are Enemies” - Fall Out Boy

What good comes of something when I'm just the ghost of nothing?

I'm just the man on the balcony singing: / "Nobody will ever remember me, " / Rejoice, rejoice and fall to your knees

Lunatic of a god or a god of a lunatic? / Oh, their faces are dancing / They're dancing til / Til they can't stand it / A composer but never composed / Singing the symphonies of the overdosed / A composer but never composed / Singing: / "I only want what I can't have"

Heralded as a king before I had a birthday / With double digits / Fit the crown to my head but I was only a kid

After the Storm (feat. Tyler, the Creator) - Kali Uchis, Tyler, the Creator, Bootsy Collins

Whatever goes around eventually comes back to you / So you gotta be careful, baby / And look both ways before you cross my mind

So if you need a hero (if you need a hero) / Just look in the mirror (just look in the mirror) / No one's gonna save you now / So you better save yourself

I know it's hard / But do you even really try? / Maybe you could understand / When all you had to do was ask / And just open your mind / When everything is passing by / And all you had to do was try / Yeah, all you had to was try

Garbage Bin - Tiny Little Houses

I don't want to go back home / I don't want to see my folks / Just gonna hold my breath and maybe with some time I'll learn to float

I need a little bit of money and a little bit more time / I keep on losing my friends to suicide / And it don't get much better than this / I hate to break it, but, the longer that you try / The less likely that you will make it / I don't want to be alone / I don't want to die at home

I think I’m getting depressed / It’s always me against the world / I’m well aware I’m egocentric / And it’s going to hell

Relapse - Divided By Friday

I don’t wanna be somebody falling into relapse / Every time I see that smile again / I just think of when you said “I love you, / But I don’t think I can be the one.” / And, the truth is, we could’ve been happy, / But you would not believe in me

And, no, I can’t pretend I’m fine / With the life you left behind / Or keep on hoping that you change your mind.

Happy Little Pill - Troye Sivan

I’ll take a dip into the / Unknown, unknown

Oh, glazed eyes, empty hearts / Buying happy from shopping carts / Nothing but time to kill / Sipping life from bottles / Tight skin, bodyguards / Gucci down the boulevard / Cocaine, dollar bills / And / My happy little pill / Take me away / Dry my eyes / Bring color to my skies / My sweet little pill / Tame my hunger / Lie within / Numb my skin

Bad Blood - Bastille

We were young and drinking in the park / There was nowhere else to go / And you said you always had my back / Oh but how were we to know / That these are the days that bind you together, forever / And these little things define you forever, forever / All this bad blood here, won't you let it dry?

If we're only ever looking back / We will drive ourselves insane / As the friendship goes resentment grows / We will walk our different ways

Mama’s Gun - Glass Animals

Dirty Dustin, said he saw him / Playing ball with Dizzy Jim / Dizzy Jim had never spoken / Whispered back, "You murdered him" / My heart strings broke and it was me / I pull, they stretch infinitely

Play with me, my love, in the summer sun / I'll be waiting in your favorite Cheshire grin / Lay with me, my dear, in the evening clear / I'll be dreaming in my paper-pale skin

Wires - The Neighborhood

Mr. Know-it-all had his reign and his fall / At least that's what his brain is telling all

If he said "help me kill the president" / I'd say he needs medicine / Sick of screaming "let us in" / The wires got the best of him / All that he invested in goes / Straight to hell, straight to hell

He tells me to be raw / Admits to every little flaw / That never let him sit upon the top / Won't tell me to stop / Thinks that I should be a little cautious / Well, I can tell the wires pulled

I'm having trouble in believing / And I just started seeing / Light at the beginning of the tunnel / But he tells me that I'm dreaming / When he talks I hear his ghosts / Every word they say to me / I just pray the wires aren't coming

Dirty Laundry - Bitter:Sweet

I'm just a bad girl, that's why we get along / Won't make excuses for anything I'm doing wrong / I'll pull the trigger in a flash / Watch out honey, step back

What's the fun in playing it safe? / Think I'd rather misbehave / We're simply mad / Simply mad

DeMarcus Cousins & Ashley - Hobo Johnson

I love breathing, pizza, Santa Claus and Jesus and other things that feel real nice to believe in / I love drinking, but not enough to ever have to go to all those stupid meetings (Let's go)

I love you like the stars love lonely eyes, ah / On seven consecutive Friday nights / I- I love you like the dog hates the leash / And the leash loves the dog, like I love nothing else at all

Father - Hobo Johnson

He told me son beware, of the monsters / That roam the depths of your head / Sometimes they'll make you real sad or / Or real real mad, or real real jealous and / That's real real bad, boy breathe / Nicotine until you fall asleep like all of our family

My father's married to a shape shifting monster / Who can sometimes take the form / Of a really really really nice woman

Evil Woman - Electric Light Orchestra

There's a hole in my head where the rain comes in / You took my body and played to win / Ha, ha, woman, it's a cryin' shame / But you ain't got nobody else to blame

Ha, ha, woman, what you gonna do / You destroyed all the virtues that the Lord gave you

Ha, ha, funny how you broke me up / You made the wine, now you drink the cup / I came runnin' every time you cried / Thought I saw love smilin' in your eyes

The evil woman (you're an evil woman) / The evil woman

Bang The Doldrums - Fall Out Boy

This city says / Come hell or high water / Well, I'm feeling hot and wet / I can't commit to a thing / Be it heart or hospital

Best friends, ex-friends 'til the end / Better off as lovers and not the other way around / Racing through the city, windows down / In the back of yellow checkered cars

The tombstones were waiting / They were half-engraved / They knew it was over / Just didn't know the date

Tap Water Drinking - Lewis Del Mar

The night’s getting wobbly / It's seven in the morning / And I should leave you probably / But everything else is boring

I want to drink your water / A tap from the Caribbean / Forbidden fruit's in season / Cherry lips and fresh peaches

Sex in the City - Hobo Johnson

Beautiful people only live in downtown / And midtown and not around where I stay / Is it their brain that really matters / Or their character that flatters / Or dependent on their beautiful face

Wait for It - Leslie Odom Jr.

Death doesn’t discriminate / Between the sinners / And the saints / It takes and it takes and it takes / And we keep living anyway / We rise and we fall / And we break / And we make our mistakes / And if there’s a reason I’m still alive / When everyone who loves me has died / I’m willing to wait for it

I am the one thing in life I can control

Hamilton doesn’t hesitate / He exhibits no restraint / He takes and he takes and he takes / And he keeps winning anyway / He changes the game / He plays and he raises the stakes / And if there’s a reason / He seems to thrive when so few survive, then Goddamnit—

Grave Digger - Matt Maeson

I can't run to you, father / I need love / I can't talk to you, mother / I know it's got you caught up

But tell me if I run away, how long will I bleed? / So, tell me if I run away, how long will I bleed?

I'll be tryna suck all of the liquid out the dirt / Tryna catch a curve, digging my own grave! / Ooh, mama

Archive - Mal Blum

And the hotel where I slept that night / Was surely haunted, then / Because every hour, I woke up feeling / So watched and wanted and / I think I remember that from when we met / Which feels so insignificant / Or maybe odd now to admit / It's all in retrospect, oh

Pretending I was sane / And giving up / The things I love the most / Because they felt like pain

We don't believe in ghosts and such / We watch the hunt incredulous / But cannot look away

We're gonna die and maybe it's gonna be alone / We're gonna die and maybe it's gonna be alone / And no one will find the things we left behind

Do It All The Time - I DON’T KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME

No need to cry / I'm only doing anything I want to do / Because I do it all the time / (Do it all the time)

Now we're so young / But we're probably gonna die / It's so fun / We're so good at selling lies / We look so good / And we never even try / Get your money from a trust fund / Do it all the time

Pretty Little Head - Eliza Rickman

Hook, line, and sinker / Drop it down to the bottom / Butterfly float, flicker, soar to the top / Kill for the thrill / Cut it, stick it where you got him / Circle Rolling Under, running red to the stop

Boy, where's your mother? / Fall down dead / Dirty mind, dirty mouth, pretty little head / I wish you were here, I wish you'd make my bed / Dirty mind, dirty mouth, pretty little head

Take a breath, my heart, and hold your tongue / It's just a cog in the year of all my love

Peach Scone - Hobo Johnson

They're just really good friends, and that's fine / He understands, it's rational

Hi, what's your name? How are you? How’s your life? / Oh, you got a man? Are you in love? If so, what type? / Is it just platonic, strictly just as friends / Or the type that ties you two together 'til tomorrow’s end? / If it is, disregard every time I call you pretty / Though it’s meant sincerely, it’s just my imagination drifting

And I love the thought of being with you / Or maybe it’s the thought of not being so alone! / Hey, the second one’s way sadder than the first one / But I don’t know

Shit, I love being—I love being loved, but / Don't like crying on the phone

Wait - The Dear Hunter

I lost my faith when I was young / I clenched my fist to bite my tongue

Then I said wait / Are our bodies really piles of dirt? / And is the soul just a metaphor? / I keep my eyes from looking too far up / I fear that there is a heaven above

I stood in lines to bow my head / I'd fold my hands and speak in tongues / To whisper worries to the dead / But I could tell no apparition heard a single word I said / But I'd still call my fear in to the air

Is my body really part of the earth / And is there blood running through my veins? / I'll know when I turn to dust / But I fear the answer isn't enough / So, will I never know heaven or hell? / Or is eternity something worse?

I hope there's not a heaven above

bury a friend - Billie Eilish

What do you want from me? Why don't you run from me? / What are you wondering? What do you know? / Why aren't you scared of me? Why do you care for me? / When we all fall asleep, where do we go?

Today, I'm thinkin' about the things that are deadly / The way I'm drinkin' you down / Like I wanna drown, like I wanna end me

Step on the glass, staple your tongue (Ahh) / Bury a friend, try to wake up (Ah-ahh) / Cannibal class, killing the son (Ahh) / Bury a friend, I wanna end me

It's probably somethin' that shouldn't be said out loud / Honestly, I thought that I would be dead by now (Wow) / Calling security, keepin' my head held down / Bury the hatchet or bury a friend right now

Killer - The Hoosiers

I hate my work, but I'm in control / I'm fearless now, but it cost my soul

Blood red lips, they shake like leaves / You're flesh and blood, but what's underneath?

It's alright to scream, I'm screaming too / Why do you think I do these things I do? / For shadows haunted me like ghosts / So I became what I feared the most / I conduct fear like electricity / A man made monstrosity

This Is Home - Cavetown

Often I am upset that I cannot fall in love but I guess / This avoids the stress of falling out of it / Are you tired of me yet? I'm a little sick right now but I swear / When I'm ready I will fly us out of here

Are you dead? Sometimes I think I'm dead / Cause I can feel ghosts and ghouls wrapping my head / But I don't wanna fall asleep just yet

Exit Music (For a Film) - Radiohead

Wake from your sleep / The drying of your tears / Today we escape, we escape / Pack and get dressed / Before your father hears us / Before all hell breaks loose

Breathe, keep breathing / Don't lose your nerve / Breathe, keep breathing / I can't do this alone

And you can laugh a spineless laugh / We hope your rules and wisdom choke you / Now we are one in everlasting peace / We hope that you choke, that you choke

Human - Jon Bellion

There's someone gorgeous in my bed tonight / Yet I'm still petrified that I'll die alone

I'm just so sick of being human

I got no guts to tell the one I love / That she's the reason that I wrote this song / And that's some coward shit, I know it's sus / But Lauren call me when you hear this song

Shrike - Hozier

Words hung above, but never would form / Like a cry at the final breath that is drawn / Remember me, love, when I'm reborn / As a shrike to your sharp and glorious thorn I'd no idea on what ground I was founded / All of that goodness is going with you now / Then when I met you, my virtues uncounted / All of my goodness is going with you now

Jesus Christ - Hobo Johnson

I've been on the wrong side of a bunch of arguments lately / Momma, I may never come home again / Momma said, "There's nothing wrong with being happy" / Happy trails, but Momma, I'm just feeling so alone / Momma said she's busy working, spending time with that other guy / But Momma, I just wanna come home / "But home is where your heart is, boy, at least you've got a phone"

Jesus Christ, you're super nice / But don't expect much from me, I / Would kneel down, but I'm afraid that I would just feel nothing Praise God / And other things that don't make sense to puny minds / Like ours, designing roller coasters that almost always seem to fall apart / Ain't it fun, ain't it fun, ain't it fun

Jesus Christ, you're super nice / I'm sure that you could love me / Even if I don't go to church every Sunday / Jesus Christ, you're super nice / How could you let me burn? / If I'm not murdering people, then smashing their fucking urn

#playlist #spotify playlist #hamish #hamish playlist #novel playlist

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alexannedra · 6 years

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Vulpes vulpes

In the Scandinavian countries, foxes were believed to cause the northern lights. These aurora were called "revontulet" in Finland, meaning "fox fires". Foxes sometimes replaced cats as witch´s familiars in medieval European folklore, and were occasionally persecuted in the resulting hysteria. The Japanese revered foxes as the divine messengers of Uka no Mitama, the Shinto rice goddess, although tales were also told of evil Japanese foxes that could possess people. Many cultures have stories about shape-shifting "werefoxes". In China and other Asian countries, werefoxes were demons that prolonged their lives by seducing humans and feeding off their souls. A variation of this theme is a myth common among the Siberian Koriak people, the Inuit, and various tribes of native North Americans. "The Mysterious House Keeper", tells of a fox that entered a hunter´s house and removed its skin to become a beautiful woman. When the hunter returned, he found that the woman had cleaned his house and he decided to marry her. The bliss was short lived, however, as the hunter began to complain about his wife´s smell. Her feelings hurt, she transformed back into a fox and ran away.

Some of the best known classic fox literature was written over 2,500 years ago by Aesop. His fables told stories about various intelligent animals, and were used to convey a moral point to the reader. Because of their craftiness, beauty, and solitary nature, foxes figured prominently in these fables whenever deceit, pride, or individuality was necessary to the story. One such fable is The Fox and the Grapes. In it, a red fox finds itself in a vineyard and tries to feed on the grapes hanging on the vines. Despite its best efforts, the fox just can´t reach the fruit and gives up in frustration. He saves face and consoles himself by saying the grapes were probably sour any ways. The moral of the story is that people often badmouth things they can´t have. Like many other of Aesop´s fables, the story gave rise to a popular expression (sour grapes) or proverb. With the possible exception of the lion, few other animals are mentioned as often by Aesop as the fox is.

Both clever and foolish, creative and destructive, perfectly civilized and utterly wild. Trickster foxes appear in old stories gathered from countries and cultures all over the world -- including Aesop's Fables from ancient Greece, the "Reynard" stories of medieval Europe, the "Giovannuzza" tales of Italy, the "Brer Fox" lore of the American South, and stories from diverse Native American traditions...

...but at the darker end of the fox-lore spectrum we find creatures of a distinctly more dangerous cast: Reynardine, Mr. Fox, kitsune (the Japanese fox wife), kumiho (the Korean nine-tailed fox), and other treacherous shape-shifters.

Fox women populate many story traditions but they're particularly prevalent across the Far East. Fox wives, writes Korean-American folklorist Heinz Insu Fenkl, are seductive creatures who "entice unwary scholars and travelers with the lure of their sexuality and the illusion of their beauty and riches. They drain the men of their yang -- their masculine force -- and leave them dissipated or dead (much in the same way La Belle Dame Sans Merci in Keats's poem leaves her parade of hapless male victims).

"Korean fox lore, which comes from China (from sources probably originating in India and overlapping with Sumerian lamia lore) is actually quite simple compared to the complex body of fox culture that evolved in Japan. The Japanese fox, or kitsune, probably due to its resonance with the indigenous Shinto religion, is remarkably sophisticated. Whereas the arcane aspects of fox lore are only known to specialists in other East Asian countries, the Japanese kitsune lore is more commonly accessible. Tabloid media in Tokyo recently identified the negative influence of kitsune possession among members of the Aum Shinregyo (the cult responsible for the sarin attacks in the Tokyo subway). Popular media often report stories of young women possessed by demonic kitsune, and once in a while, in the more rural areas, one will run across positive reports of the kitsune associated with the rice god, Inari."

(To read Heinz's full essay on "Fox Wives & Other Dangerous Women," go here.)

There are tales of fox wives in the West as well, but fewer of them; and they tend, by and large, to be gentler creatures. (To marry them is unlucky nonetheless, for they're skittish, shy, and not easily tamed.) An exception to this general rule can be found in the räven stories of Scandinavia. The fox-women who roam the forests of northern Europe are portrayed as heart-stoppingly beautiful, fiercely independent, and extremely dangerous.

(Fox Woman by Susan Boulet)

(Little Elvie in the Wild Wood by Catherine Hyde)

The "nine-tailed fox" of China and Japan is often (but not always) a demonic spirit, malevolent in intent. It takes possession of human bodies, both male and female, moving for one victim to another over thousands of years, seducing other men and women in order to dine on their hearts and livers. Human organs are also a delicacy for the nine-tailed fox, or kumiho, of Korean lore -- although the earliest texts don't present the kumiho as evil so much as amoral and unpredictable...occasionally even benevolent...much like the faeries of English folklore.

In the West, it's the fox-men we need to beware of -- such as Reynardine in the old folk ballad, a handsome were-fox who lures young maidens to a bloody death.

Mr. Fox, in the English fairy tale of that name, is cousin to the kumiho and Reynardine, with a bit of Bluebeard mixed in for good measure, promising marriage to a gentlewoman while his lair is littered with her predecessors' bones. Neil Gaiman drew inspiration from the tale when he wrote his wry, wicked poem "The White Road":

There was something sly about his smile, his eyes so black and sharp, his rufous hair. Something that sent her early to their trysting place, beneath the oak, beside the thornbush, something that made her climb the tree and wait. Climb a tree, and in her condition. Her love arrived at dusk, skulking by owl-light, carrying a bag, from which he took a mattock, shovel, knife. He worked with a will, beside the thornbush, beneath the oaken tree, he whistled gently, and he sang, as he dug her grave, that old song...

shall I sing it for you, now, good folk?

Jeannine Hall Gailey, by contrast, casts a sympathetic eye on fox shape-shifters, writing plaintively from a kitsune's point of view in "The Fox-Wife's Invitation":

These ears aren't to be trusted. The keening in the night, didn't you hear? Once I believed all the stories didn’t have endings, but I realized the endings were invented, like zero, had yet to be imagined. The months come around again, and we are in the same place; full moons, cherries in bloom, the same deer, the same frogs, the same helpless scratching at the dirt. You leave poems I can’t read behind on the sheets, I try to teach you songs made of twigs and frost. you may be imprisoned in an underwater palace; I'll come riding to the rescue in disguise. Leave the magic tricks to me and to the teakettle. I've inhaled the spells of willow trees, spat them out as blankets of white crane feathers. Sleep easy, from behind the closet door I'll invent our fortunes, spin them from my own skin. Although chancy to encounter in myth, and too wild to domesticate easily (in stories and in life), some of us long for foxes nonetheless, for their musky scent, their hot breath, their sharp-toothed magic. "I needed fox," wrote Adrienne Rich:

Badly I needed a vixen for the long time none had come near me I needed recognition from a triangulated face burnt-yellow eyes fronting the long body the fierce and sacrificial tail I needed history of fox briars of legend it was said she had run through I was in want of fox

And the truth of briars she had to have run through I craved to feel on her pelt if my hands could even slide past or her body slide between them sharp truth distressing surfaces of fur lacerated skin calling legend to account a vixen's courage in vixen terms

(Full poem here.) Ah, but Fox is right here, right beside us, Jack Roberts answers, a little warily:

Not the five tiny black birds that flew out from behind the mirror over the washstand,

nor the raccoon that crept out of the hamper,

nor even the opossum that hung from the ceiling fan

troubled me half so much as the fox in the bathtub.

There's a wildness in our lives. We need not look for it.

(Full poem here.)

There are a number of good novels that draw upon fox legends -- foremost among them, Kij Johnson's exquisite The Fox Woman, which no fan of mythic fiction should miss. I also recommend Neil Gaiman's The Dream Hunters (with the Japanese artist Yoshitaka Amano); Larissa Lai's When Fox Is a Thousand; and Ellen Steiber's gorgeous A Rumor of Gems (as well as her heart-breaking novella "The Fox Wife," published in Ruby Slippers, Golden Tears). Alice Hoffman's disquieting Here on Earth is a contemporary take on the Reynardine/Mr. Fox theme, as is Helen Oyeyemi's Mr. Fox, a complex work full of stories within stories within stories. For younger readers, try the "Legend of Little Fur" series by Isobelle Carmody. And for mythic poetry, I especially recommend She Returns to the Floating World by Jeannine Hall Gailey and Sister Fox’s Field Guide to the Writing Life by Jane Yolen.

#fox #folklore

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sketchy-vore · 7 years

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The Monster of Ebott

Here it is guys! The AU no one asked for! But I was having trouble writing so I thought: let’s do something light and fun.

So, remember this AU I briefly talked about? I wrote that with Feralfell characters. Also the song that’s mentioned is ‘Fade Away’, an Undertale fan song by @mandopony . My boyfriend is a big fan of his MLP music and I wanted to use a sad song that’s connected to the fandom, so he seemed like the right choice.

Might put this story up to the Feraltale blog if it does okay. Also, first attempt at writing in third person, leave constructive criticism. Also ILLUSTRATIONS!!!

Enough talk let's GO!

There once was a little orphan child. everybody called them Frisk, because they were always optimistic. They were also always kind, looking down so they wouldn’t step on the pretty flowers, or tiny animals. And every day they would walk through the forest to get to school.

“Don’t go through the woods!” People told them. “Monsters live there! They will trick and hurt you, maybe they will even eat you!”

“Oh, but I’m not scared of monsters.” They would say with a smile, and everyday they got there and back, unharmed. They were always kind to the monsters. So kind in fact, that every time they tried to lead them off the path, stole their bag or teased them, they would end up helping them get back to school whole and safe instead. All because they were so kind that it made them feel bad for bullying them.

One day, a messenger came from the castle.

“A MESSAGE FROM THE KING! THE BEAST OF EBOTT HAS REACHED THE KINGDOM, ALL CIVILIANS: BEWARE THE GIANT MONSTER, STAY OUT OF THE FORESTS! TO ALL YOUNG MAN: HE WHO CAN KILL OR CAPTURE THE BEAST WILL GET HALF THE KINGDOM AND CAN CHOSE TO MARRY THE PRINCESS!”

“See now Frisk?” The people said. “It is dangerous to go into the forest! And now there is a monster there that is even more dangerous!”

Frisk just giggled. “I’m not scared of the monsters.” And through the forest they went.

‘How ridiculous.’ They thought. The king’s oldest child, Chara, was just as genderless of mind as they were! Though maybe, that’s just how desperate the king was to keep his kingdom safe.

Suddenly, they could hear screeches and roars far in the distance. Frisk stopped and looked up, just in time to see a form sail through the sky and land in the middle of the lake with a huge splash. Frisk quickly hurried over to help a panting young man up the shore.

“Good god, it was that monster! The Beast of Ebbot, that devil’s mountain. I was trying to fight it, but then there was this icy cold in my chest. And before I knew it I flew up through the sky and landed here. What kind of demon is that thing?!”

The very next day Frisk was walking to school again, only to once again hear the yelling and snorts of a giant beast. And once more, a young man came falling from the sky. He fell into a treetop and came down with many cries of pain and the crackling of twigs. Frisk just reached the trunk as the man came to a stop, clothes and limbs tangled up in the branches. They helped to pull the man out.

“The monster! The Beast of Ebott! It was horrifying! It felt like he was gonna rip the soul straight from my chest! But then I was suddenly flying through the air, what the hell!?”

The next few days many more young men were thrown around the forest, many times Frisk would find and help them to their feet. But every day people would return with increasingly worse wounds, and after a guy returned with a broken arm and leg, his hair singed off, no one dared to set foot in the forest again.

All except for little Frisk. Always looking down to the floor to avoid stepping on little flowers and creature, listening to the mood of the creatures around them to avoid the powerful newcomer. Even though they weren’t really that scared, they couldn’t help but fret. Even the other monsters in the forest were stressed that something so large and powerful, and apparently ill tempered to boot, was stalking around so close. What if the Beast hurt them before they could be nice to him and show they meant no harm?

They decided to take a little break, sitting on one of the rocks with a jelly sandwich. Hmm, strawberry jam, their favorite.

“Ah! P-please not my head!” A tiny voice squeaked out on the ground. Frisk looked down to see a large flower, a piece of the sticky crust stuck to it’s leaves. It had a cute little face in the middle contorted with disgust and stress, the beginning of tiny tears in it’s beady eyes.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Frisk apologized, picking the crust off it’s leaves and taking out a napkin. The flower’s leaves were ripped and had a few holes in them, so they were extra careful as they wiped the smears of jam off, revealing the beautiful gold beneath.

“Thank you,” The flower mumbled. “I’ve had people react worse to me.” They perked up a little bit as it met their eyes. “You were looking like something was bothering you, and you don’t see any other humans in the forest anymore. If you were worrying about Sans finding you, why would you still come here?”

“Who?” Frisk wondered.

“Sans. Uhm, ‘the Beast of Ebott’ I think is what the people here call him.”

Frisk perked up with interest. “You know him?”

“Well, I should. I am Flowey, the Golden Flower of Ebott after all! Although, I don’t know him personally, but I am good friends with his brother.”

Frisk got off the rock and sat in front of the flower instead. “Could you maybe tell me a bit more about him?”

Flowey gave the child a long look, before his face contorted slightly again. The tiny smile on the middle of his face turned out to be slit nostrils as the area above his lower leaves opened slightly, showing a grin filled with sharp teeth. He looked like a child who had just been asked to share some gossip he heard about the bully next door.

“Well, people say he likes the blood of his victims. But actually he just likes the taste of...mustard.”

“No way!” Frisk giggled.

“Yes! And even though he might look like a tough guy, he is actually just a lazybones who just wants to rest and be left alone. But all those people trying to capture and kill him really irritate him.”

“Yeah, I noticed.” Frisk replied as they thought about all the guys she had to help who were pinned to trees by bones.

The flower’s eyes suddenly sparked with worry. “Speaking of which, I will give you a little advice in case you meet them. You seem like a nice person, and I don’t want for anything to happen to you just because Sans nerves are so tense right now. And I don’t want him to get hurt either, Papyrus would be heartbroken. He might be loud and aggressive, but he loves his brother very much.”

“If you meet him, sing him a sad song. I don’t know how, but if you do that he’ll become as meek as a lamb. You can even pull at him and he’ll follow. Just thought I’d tell you in case you bumped into him.”

In the distance there was the sound of a bell.

“Oh no!” Frisk cried out. “The five minute bell! I have to get to school quickly!” They shoved the rest of the sandwich into their mouth and ran off. “By Flower!” They waved.

Later that evening they were walking home to the orphanage at the capital. They were deep in thought about what Flowey said. So deep in fact that they didn’t hear how quiet the forest had got.

Too quite…

Frisk bumped into something.

Because they were always looking down they saw his feet first, and they almost laughed. He wore big, fuzzy, red slippers, with bright yellow socks sticking out of them. The colors were just so strange, and the slippers looked soft and plush. Their humor died down as they realized just how big the strange footwear was, maybe even ten times the size of their own, and that out of the sock stuck thick, massive bones.

Their eyes traveled up, over black shorts with a yellow stripe on each outer side, before they rested on his belly and chest for a second. His body was enormous, towering high over their head with a large round belly. He was clad in a bright red sweater with a thick, black, battered jacket. At his sides they saw huge claws, each was nearly long as their entire arm and the palms easily as big as their chest.

Finally, they looked all the way up until their head was lying in their neck to see his face. His head was a huge skull framed by the white fur hood from his jacket. Three horn-like growths protruded from the top of his head, with two smaller ones on his cheeks. He had a huge mouth filled with sharp fangs. It had two huge tusks, one of pearly white bone while the other was replaced by a huge serrated dagger or knife that looked like it had been welded into the dental socket. Above those snarling fangs were the pitch black eye sockets, with two red orbs inside, each of a different size, staring at them with fury.

A furious rumble started in his chest as the monster’s mouth started to open wide, wider, impossibly wide, as if he was planning to devour the child whole! Frisk suddenly remembered what Flowey told them and racked their brain for a song.

“If I let you go, would you still be a part of me?...” They didn’t know how they knew this song, but they had a distant memory of someone singing it, and it always used to make them cry when they hummed it to themself. Their voice was slightly shaking but they forced their voice to sing the words loud and clear. They felt a tiny bit braver as the monster’s mouth relaxed, wide eyes focused on the tiny child as he listened.

Frisk’s voice got a little more confident as the monster’s mouth fully shut with a soft click, and they closed their eyes as the song started to bring tears to them and a warm feeling in their chest.

Frisk opened their eyes with surprise at a soft sob, but forced themself to keep on singing. Sans was clearly fighting to keep it in, rubbing furiously at his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket, but they could still see the big red tears that were starting to stream down his short muzzle.

Looking at the monster as he looked so vulnerable and remembering what Flowey had said, Frisk got a little idea.

After the song ended they started up again, slowly reaching for Sans’ claw. He didn’t even react as they closed their fingers around one of the enormous digit and when they pulled it he took a shuffled step forward.

And so, still singing as they went, Frisk lead Sans back to the capital. They hadn’t even left the treeline but the people already started screaming in fear. “The Beast of Ebott! THE BEAST OF EBOTT IS COMING!” People screamed, all running away and hiding wherever they could. In their homes, on the roofs, in barrels, one guy even jumped off his horse to hide behind the animal. And a soft buzz of voices followed, as people realized that the giant brute was willingly pulled along by a tiny child.

As they walked through the now deserted streets of the city, Frisk could feel the monster’s paws slightly starting to shake. They looked up to see that he was still crying, but he was looking around, eyes full of fear and worry. They gently gave the claw they were still holding a little squeeze, and when he met their eyes they gave him a reassuring little smile.

When they reached the castle the guards were gone nearly just as quickly as the others, leaving the gates wide open. I was only when they entered the throne room that someone stood their ground. As the doors swung open, the normal servants quickly hid under the satin chairs and the oak closets. But the king’s Royal Guard quickly stood to attention with drawn weapons.

The king sat in his throne with stern eyes, no doubt having heard of what was coming. But not that early that he had been able to warn his wife and children. Queen Toriel gasped and turned pale. Prince Asriel let out a startled scream and he and their adopted royalty Chara quickly ran into their mother’s arms, the latter drawing their favorite dagger, just in case.

The king narrowed his eyes and lifted his hand. All available weapons in the room were pointed at the giant monster.

“Stop! Don’t hurt him!” Frisk cried out in panic. The room was instantly silent.

Too quiet…

Frisk was suddenly aware that they had stopped singing.

Quickly they tried to pick the song up from where they left, but they stumbled over their words and gave a little squeak as enormous hands grasped around their middle.

The room stayed absolutely silent as the kid was lifted off the floor, up and up….and awkwardly cradled against the monster’s chest. Frisk couldn’t see his face, but they could just feel the heat of a venomous glare going being thrown over the top of their head. The fact that the glare wasn’t on them gave them the courage to look up and softly inquire:

“Sans?”

The red eyes lowered in surprise when he heard his name, but his face softened slightly and he gave them a little smile. Then he went back to leveling a glare at the king, challenging him to give the fatal order.

The king slowly lowered his hand, and the guard their weapons. “Are you certain that’s wise my child?” His voice was deep and cautious, looking at the beast before him. He was a big guy, but this monster easily dwarfed him being nearly twice his size.

“Yes!” The child called out. “He’s big and strong, and quite scary, but he’s not a bad guy. He just wants to be left alone and not attacked by young machos every fifteen minutes.”

Asriel and Chara seemed to peek out from their mother a little more, and Toriel herself seemed to have regained her composure, her back straight and the aura around her strong and regal. She was eyeing Sans closely and for some reason the monster was actually avoiding eye contact with her.

“I’m not certain about this.” The king spoke slowly. “I do not wish to leave this creature unchecked, but we are in debt with you for capturing it and… seemingly having tamed it somehow?”

Frisk could feel a huff going through the monster’s chest and ruffling their hair, but he didn’t really protest to the assumption. Huh?

“So we can’t exactly kill it now either.”

“It could stay in the castle park.”

Heads snapped towards the queen. Her children had nearly completely come out from behind her back as she stood proud and tall. Asgore might be king, but everyone knew who the true strength of the royal family was. She slowly walked forward until she was in front of the monster.

“If he stays there, we can keep an eye on him as you wish. But he’ll have the room to roam around and the only people that will come there will leave him alone as long as he behaves. And the child can come live with us if they chose to do so.”

Whatever the queen must have seen in Sans, it must have been worth her trust. And as their eyes finally met there seemed to be a mutual respect between the two forces. And even if you couldn’t see that, the slight dip of Sans’ head left no doubt.

When her eyes drifted to Frisk though, those eyes instantly turned motherly.

“My child, the bag you are wearing tells me that you’re living in the orphanage a few miles away. Would you like to come live with us here at the palace instead, and be part of our family. After all, if I remember correctly someone promised half a kingdom and the hand of our daughter.” There was a sharp edge in her voice as she said that, turning to the king who was fidgeting with a lowered head.

“Oh, I don’t want the kingdom.” Frisk chirped. “I found Sans by chance, and I just wanted to make sure he would be safe. And I’m way too young to know who I’m gonna like, especially when I’m not even sure of my gender too. If I’m going to live with you, I much rather would want Chara and also Asriel as my siblings.”

Said child looked dumbfounded, once again surprised someone would want them around. Toriel looked proud, mom mode quickly starting to kick in.

“Excellent my dear! We will send for someone to get your things from the orphanage. Sans, would you please follow me? I’ll show you the gardens, there you can have as much rest as you wish.”

Frisk could feel the monster hug them a little bit closer, like a child holding a doll for comfort. But he obediently followed the queen nonetheless.

Looks like she wouldn’t need to sing to make him do what she wanted.

And thus from that day on, Frisk lived with the Dreemurr family. They were treated as equal to the other two royal children, learning and playing along with them. Asriel warmed up quickly to his new sibling, energetically hopping around and pulling them along into his every game. Chara was more reserved and sometimes seemed to test the younger child, but they too eventually warmed up and shared their books with them.

And Sans lived in the garden, sleeping his days away in the shade. Eventually, it turned out he didn’t like to be that lonely though. Frisk would visit them every evening, singing their song as he fought back sniffles, his enormous skull laying down in their lap. And after a while Asriel and Chara would join too.

And eventually the three royal children would be playing in his garden under his watchful and amused gaze, the monster laying right in the middle of the sunniest spot he could find and halfheartedly grumbling as the children crawled over them in their games.

Sans got along with the queen too. He would listen to her talk, sharing her books and recipes. He would even make these strange huffing sounds whenever the queen shared her most terrible puns.

As the 3 siblings grew up, they each became much respected and loved by their people.

Asriel became a just and confident king, respected and loved by his people.

Chara became his advisor, smart and resolute as they were, determined to make sure their siblings would be safe.

And Frisk, they were the keeper of the Beast of Ebott, their best friend and a constant reminder that peace can always be an option. Because of them, monsters were left alone in the kingdom. And monsters, under the protection of someone so powerful and kind, saw no reason to be mean to humans anymore.

#Undertale AU #feraltale #Feralfell #Short story

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pika-ace · 7 years

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ITH Skyward Sword AU Sneak Peek

Just wanted to give you guys a taste of one of the MANY AUs I’m working on (and ITH Zelda AU is still the best AU, sorry it’s fact X3)

A few notes to point out that for this AU, Usnavi and Vanessa actually grew up together and are childhood friends, since they live on a small island in the sky with not many people around. They’re not as close as, say, Usnavi and Benny would be, but they’re good friends, and their age gap has been reduced from five years to about two or three years apart. This change was made for chemistry purposes and I wanted to give it a try, but it doesn’t make Usnavi any less flustered around her XD. (Also, for those who don’t know Zelda lore, Loftwings are giant birds you can ride) ((Also also, there’s a bit of Dadnavi and Momnessa in here for Sonny X3))

Summary: After learning that some bullies hid Sonny’s Loftwing away, the reckless boy goes off to look for it in the Waterfall Cave, the only forbidden place in Skyloft. Worried for his safety, Vanessa decides to take up a sword and go after him before he can get into more trouble.

Vanessa hurried off towards her destination, the sword she got from Carla in the Sparring Hall on her back in its sheath. She spied Usnavi flying around on his blue Loftwing, Dulces, but it looked like he didn't have any luck.

Guess that meant only one thing. Vanessa sighed and leapt across the river; Usnavi was definitely gonna kill him. Vanessa approached the proper path and the familiar sign that stood a few feet before the cave.

‘Waterfall Cave ahead. Beware of blood-sucking monsters! No kids allowed.’

Vanessa ran up the hill and spotted something shining in the grass, right in front of the wooden spikes preventing her entry. She picked it up and found that it was Sonny’s metal pin bearing the Deity crest. Kid must’ve squeezed through the gate and it fell off. He was a tiny little thing for his age.

Guess the sign didn't turn him around; stupid, brave, kid.

Vanessa hacked and slashed at the wooden gate until she could step through; they would replace the gate later. And most kids knew better than to come in here.

The cave was quite dark, but thanks to the reflection of water from deep within, Vanessa could still see.

Vanessa jogged down the path when a few piles of goo appeared at her feet. They slithered towards her, deformed monsters faces on the front of them. “Ugh…” She groaned, drawing her sword. These things were fucking disgusting.

She swiftly stabbed them, even going as far as stomping on them to finish them off, leaving thin puddles of goo behind before they vanished in a small puff of purple smoke.

Vanessa went on her way and eventually reached the window the cave where the waterfall could be seen. Vanessa climbed down a few landings and kept following the path, keeping an ear out for any more monsters. She even found a few Rupees on her way; definitely good to keep around just in case. But there was still no sign of Sonny. Maybe Sonny actually got lucky and made it through without running into anythin-

A loud scream suddenly cut through the air. Vanessa silently cursed and ran down the path, leaping down from another landing. She could hear the tiny flapping of wings and through the dim light of the cave, she spied the culprits.

A bunch of bats were swarming an area near the ground, and as she drew closer she could see arms flailing desperately to shoo them away.

“Get away from me!” Sonny was completely surrounded by the little monsters as they pulled at his clothes and scratched at his skin.

Vanessa ran forward, sword at the ready and easily slashed down the bat closest to her. The rest of the bats scattered away from Sonny, who was now curled into a ball and covering his head with his arms, and darted towards Vanessa.

The bats were child’s play, as Vanessa easily swatted them down with a few good quick strikes, making them fly into the wall and explode in a puff of purple smoke. ‘Why do they do that?’ Vanessa absently wondered, before turning her attention to the boy in front of her.

Vanessa lowered her sword and Sonny peeked up at her as she glared at him. “What part of ‘blood-sucking monsters’ did you not understand?”

“I wasn’t just gonna abandon my Loftwing!” Sonny shot back, his frame shivering from the assault.

Vanessa leaned towards him, a flat look on her face, “Blood-sucking monsters.” She repeated with more emphasis.

“You would’ve done the same thing!” Sonny protested.

“Yeah, but I have a sword,” Vanessa said, giving the weapon a little wave. “You don’t even have a stick.”

Sonny crossed his arms and pouted, his shivering still apparent, “Whatever…”

Vanessa sighed and offered him a hand. Sonny took it and Vanessa gave him a quick once over. His clothes were slightly torn in places and there were many cuts on his arms and hands that broke the skin. She also noticed some scrapes on his palms; that was probably when he fell during the attack.

“You okay?” She asked.

“Yeah…” Sonny nodded.

Vanessa raised her sword and turned back towards the path, “Stay close, okay?”

Sonny silently nodded and followed Vanessa down the path. A couple more bats came their way, but they were easy pickings. Eventually, the end of the tunnel came into view and the pair found themselves behind the waterfall.

“Do you sense your Loftwing?” Vanessa asked.

Sonny glanced around before nodding, “Yeah, he’s real close, I know it.”

“Vanessa! Sonny!” The two looked up to see Usnavi flying towards them on Dulces.

Sonny looked at Vanessa, utter betrayal in his eyes, “You told on me?!”

“He wasn’t the only one worried about you, you little idiot,” Vanessa sniped, giving his shoulder a smack.

Usnavi leapt off Dulces once the ground was near, letting the Loftwing fly away and he bolted over to Sonny.

“Oh, thank the Deity!” Usnavi exclaimed as he pulled Sonny into a spine crushing hug. “You scared me to death, tu chico estupido! What part of ‘blood-sucking monsters’ did you not understand?!”

“That’s what I said.” Vanessa couldn’t help but remark, shooting Sonny a look.

Sonny started to turn red from both embarrassment and annoyance, and Usnavi pulled away to grasp his face and look him over, “Are you hurt anywhere? No bites or cuts? Nothing broken?”

“Geez, Navi, they were just bats,” Sonny said bitterly.

“Bats that almost ate you.” Vanessa said, grabbing Sonny’s arm to reveal the slightly torn clothing and the tiny red scratches from the monsters’ claws.

Usnavi’s eyes grew wide and he easily found the other scrapes on Sonny’s body from where he fell. “Oh gods…”

“It’s just cuts, Usnavi,” Sonny said as his older cousin rummaged through his pockets. “Seriously, they don’t even hurt.”

“Yeah, well you can never be too careful,” Usnavi responded, pulling out a small glass vial of red potion. “Drink this.”

Sonny sighed irritably, but did as he was told, making his cuts slowly vanish. Ever since Sonny fell and scraped his knee when he was two, Usnavi always made a point to carry red potion on his person.

Usnavi sighed, “You’re going to give me a heart attack one day.”

“Don’t worry,” Vanessa gave Sonny a nudge, “Once he turns eighteen, he can take up swordplay with me.”

“Absolutely not,” Usnavi answered instantly (ignoring Sonny’s groan, “Aw c’mon, cuz!”). “He’s reckless enough on his Loftwing, I’m not gonna-”

Usnavi stopped suddenly and blinked. “What?” Usnavi turned away and stared off the edge of the land they were on, “...Who is that?”

“Usnavi?” Vanessa asked, a frown on her face. “You okay?”

Usnavi was silent for a moment, then shook his head, “Uh, it’s nothing,” He said. “Anyway, Sonny, is your Loftwing nearby?”

“Yeah.” Sonny nodded, pointing to the path ahead, “I’m pretty sure I can feel him; he’s this way.” The three hiked up the grassy hill until they spied a cave up ahead that was boarded up. And flapping madly about inside, was a yellow Loftwing.

“Chip!” Sonny exclaimed. He ran up to the wooden boards, nearly slamming against them. The yellow Loftwing screeched loudly, jumping around and flapping his wings, pleading for freedom.

Sonny pulled against the boards trapping his Loftwing, but they stuck tight. The boards were sturdy and held tightly against the mouth of the cave with thick ropes tied between pairs of iron bolts.

“Hang on, Chip, we’ll get you out of there!” Sonny reassured.

Vanessa drew her sword, “I got this; stand back, Sonny.” With a few good, clean swipes, the ropes were sliced and the boards fell away from the cave.

Chip walked out of the cave and stretched his wings with a happy squawk before turning to his young rider. Chip lowered his head and Sonny threw his arms around the bird’s neck, allowing the creature to nuzzle him.

“I missed you too, buddy.” Sonny said softly.

Usnavi gave the bird a once over, “He doesn’t look hurt; he was probably really spooked though.”

Chip let out a soft cry and Vanessa gave him a pat. “You poor thing,” Vanessa cooed. “You must’ve freaked out when Sonny called you and you couldn’t come.”

Chip gave Sonny one more nudge before flapping its wings. Usnavi, Vanessa and Sonny all stepped back as the Loftwing took off into the sky where it quickly met up with Vanessa’s red Loftwing, Pepe, and Dulces.

“Well, that’s a load off my shoulders,” Vanessa remarked with a small stretch. “Now I can ace that Wing Ceremony without worrying about Sonny falling to his death.”

Sonny shot her a look, but eventually looked at the ground sheepishly, wringing his hands, “Thanks, Van…” He said softly. “You know, for before-” he gestured to the cave, “and for, catching me earlier.”

Vanessa smiled and ruffled Sonny’s hair affectionately.

“Well, we better tell Abuela that the Wing Ceremony can go on now,” Usnavi said, heading towards the platform that was nearby, “We can fly there.”

The three headed to the edge of the platform, when Usnavi paused in the same manner as before. After a beat of silence, he spoke, “Vanessa?”

“Yeah?”

“I...I heard a voice just now; did you hear it?”

Vanessa shook her head, “I didn’t hear anything.”

Sonny went to his cousin’s side and touched his arm, “Was it the same voice from before?” He asked softly.

Usnavi nodded, sharing a look with him, and Vanessa frowned, “What are you talking about?” She never appreciated it when they had their ‘secret cousin communication’ in front of her and not clue her in.

“Well, lately I’ve been hearing this voice calling out to me,” Usnavi explained, a touch of uneasiness in his voice. “I don’t know who it is, but...I have the weirdest feeling that it’s coming from below the clouds.”

Vanessa started, “But...there’s nothing below the clouds.”

“That’s what they say but, some of Abuela’s old stories say that there’s a whole world down there, even bigger than Skyloft.”

Vanessa stared at the endless sea of clouds below them; a world beyond Skyloft. Wouldn’t that be a sight to behold? For so long, Vanessa always felt like she wanted to be somewhere out of Skyloft, or just out of the sky in general. If there was a whole world down there, Vanessa now ached to see it.

Usnavi eventually blinked like he was snapping out of a daze, “We should get going,” He said. He gave Sonny a pat on the back, “It looks like Chip is waiting for you.”

Sonny and Vanessa nodded, and they got ready. The three leapt off the platform and whistled one at a time in tandem.

At the same time, the three Loftwings caught their respective Masters, and took off into the sky.

Sonny gripped Chip’s feathers and the Loftwing swayed and zoomed through the air, ecstatic to be free.

They spent a little time in the sky, simply flying over Skyloft and enjoying the feeling of flight that they all had grown to love so dearly, when they finally decided to split up.

Usnavi and Sonny flew back to the academy to tell Abuela the good news and Vanessa headed to the plaza, but not before telling Sonny to give Abuela the names of the brats who stole his Loftwing.

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nerdowritesthings · 6 years

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Lucky (I'm In Love)

Okay, so this is the long awaited part of my IronHawk series, and I'm finally posting it. In between writing everything else.

Speaking of which, I have two angst fics coming down the pipe, so keep an eye out for them. One is IronStrange, the other is IronDoom. Along with some more fluff from the 85th Floor, and more of Tony and Clint.

I filled two dialogue prompts with this one, #10 and #35; "Come here," and "Do you regret it?"

Read it on AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15402363

"Come here, you dumb dog," Clint grumbled, tired of chasing the mutt around the apartment. Tony was cackling on the couch, holding his stomach as he watched his boyfriend trying to get the purple collar around Lucky's neck.

"You could help," Clint tried, turning to look at the brunet, bottom lip pressed out in a pout.

"I did not bring the dog home," Tony pointed out, followed by a burst of chuckles as Lucky gave a playful bark, tail wagging hard enough to almost knock Clint's coffee cup off the table.

Clint caught the cup, shooting a half-hearted glare at the dog before turning pleading eyes back to the brunet. Tony simply raised an eyebrow, a silent challenge. They could probably go all night like this, back and forth with only glances. Wasn't that something, though? The only person who had that deep a connection with him was Nat, and that took years.

It hit Clint, the moment Tony broke their little competition to laugh as Lucky climbed up in his lap, licking at his face. Shit. He really didn't want to believe Wilson was right, but goddammit, the man was right. When you realize you love someone it hits you like a fucking truck. This was gonna be bad.

(Mobile Readers beware the Read More)

It was only their fourth month living together, Tony was still skittish about his father. He was slowly overcoming his trust issues, slowly letting Clint see all the edges and pieces that made Tony who he was. It had been a process, littered with ugly nights and heartbroken mornings. And now he was gonna throw a wrench in the whole thing. Good job, Barton.

"Hurry and clip it!" Tony's cheerful voice broke him from his reverie, looking up at him from behind a blanket of fur. Clint moved, gently clipping the purple collar around the dog's neck, patting his head in apology, letting out a hum of accomplishment before plopping down next to the Tony-Lucky combination. Tony reached for his hand, shoving tuft after tuft of soft yellow fur out of his way, finally lacing their fingers together.

Clint swallowed thickly, running his thumb gently over the brunet's knuckles. This was going to be harder than he thought.

Hours. He'd made it literally four hours before he stuck his foot in his mouth. The storm had knocked the power out, but the lightning was making very interesting pictures against the night sky.

Lucky was cowered under the bed, letting out a pathetic whine whenever a loud clap of thunder clapped overhead. They'd tried to coax him up, tried to get him to settle, but the dog seemed to find the most comfort hidden from the storm, as if he was still behind the pizza place. It broke Tony's heart a little.

"I'm glad you brought him home," Tony had said, watching a strike of lightning bounce off a rod attached to a building down the block. His back was pressed against the blond's chest, his Mechanical Engineering abandoned in his lap. Clint's phone gave a cheerful chirp as he finished the game he was playing, the sound cutting off as he put it next to his thigh.

"Couldn't just leave him there," Tony hummed, "He might be the famed 'Pizza Dog,' but he was still a stray."

"Have a habit of picking up strays, don't you?" Tony turned to look him in the eye, small smirk on his lips.

It wasn't fair, nothing about this was fair. Fuck his hopeless romantic side. Natasha would be laughing at him right now, as he handed a five dollar bill to Sam. Because Tony in shitty candlelight was just as striking as Tony in the sun, or just woken up, or whenever.

Shit. He was gonna fuck this up. In approximately three, tw-

"I love you," Wow. Couldn't even wait 'til one.

Tony froze in front of him, hands clenching on his thigh, eyes glassed over slightly. Yup, nice. Nice job. Really.

"I'm sorry, it just- I just- I didn- I mean I *did,* but I didn't want to freak you out. I know it's too soon and it's fine and just forget I sai-" Tony's finger was warm against his lips, he'd somehow turned his body, was sitting on his knees in front of Clint. Brown eyes glistened, unshed tears clumping together his eye lashes, an unreadable expression crossing his face.

Clint gulped, waiting for the rejection, for the moment wher Tony gently let him go, and would get up, leave. But it didn't. A watery chuckle broke through the initial panic, the small smile on Tony's face looked relieved.

"Don't apologize," Tony started, "Unless you have something you regret. Do you regret it?" Clint shook his head, opening his mouth to respond, only to be shushed. "Then don't apologize."

"But-"

"Clint," Tony leveled him with a look, cutting him off before he could make an even bigger fool of himself, "It's fine."

"I don't want to freak you out," Clint argued, not ready to let go. God he didn't want to let this go. In these past few months, he'd seen the brunet smile more than he had in the year they'd known each other. There was light, in those brown eyes, light that wasn't there right now, guarded by an unreadable mask. "I don't want you to leave," He added quieter.

Tony seemed to crack, a breath being punched out of him by the meaning behind Clint's words.

"Most of the time," Tony began with a shaky breath, "Most of the time when people say that, around me, it's typically an excuse. My mother used it, to excuse anything and everything my father did. 'It's only because he loves you,' she'd say." He didn't realize there were tears streaming down his cheeks until one calloused thumb came up to wipe it away.

Clint found himself at a loss for words. He didn't know what to say to fix this, to mend this hole that the old bastard had torn through. He grabbed the genius, wrapping his arms around the brunet and nearly crushing him to his chest. God damn Howard and his fucked up way of raising a kid. Fuck him. Clint wished he had stayed that night, if only to punch the asshole in the face.

"The whole time I've been here," Tony's voice was muffled from his shoulder, hands grasping into the fabric of his shirt, "It's different. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the wrecking ball to come in. I keep waiting for something, that I don't think is going to come anymore."

"No excuses here," Clint muttered, clinging a little tighter to the body in front of him, ignoring the slight tremors. Tony nodded against his shoulder, sniffling a bit, wiping at his eyes when he felt Clint press a kiss into his hair.

This. This was real, Tony realized. Here in their tiny bedroom, rain pelting the windows, their dog whimpering at the thunder under their bed, surrounded by the candles they had bought on sale. It was cliché to say the least, but it also warmed something in his chest, made him nestle that much closer. This was theirs.

"Holy shit," Tony breathed, laugh a little hysterical at the realization. "Fuck, Clint."

Clint pulled away, worried about the sudden change in his genius, blue eyes scanning his face for any signs of distress. He raised a confused eyebrow when he saw an uninhibited joy taking over Tony's features.

"Clint," Tony smiled brightly, leaning forward to place a kiss against the blonde's lips. Clint barely had time to react, Tony already pulling away with a shy little smile, chuckling at the little noise of protest Clint let out.

Tony replaced his finger against the blonde's lips for a minute, drawing in a steadying breath. "It may take me a while to say it, but you need to know that it's the same for me."

Clint's eyes widened, hands clutching tight around Tony's waist before surging forward. Tony's chuckle sent a happy shiver down his spine, lips never leaving the brunet's.

So, there it is, my angsty and fluffy IronHawk fic I'm proud of.

Hope you guys enjoyed!

Don't forget to like/reblog to let me know what you think!

#tony stark #clint barton #runau!#ironhawk #tonyclint #hawkiron #lucky the pizza dog #lucky(hawkeye)#fluff and angst

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carrot--cube · 7 years

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What I know about Chinchillas

Chinchillas, that creature that God made when he was trying to make an original species and mixed a Rabbit and a Squirrel, but to make it more special, he gave them the softest fur in the world.

Unfortunately, Chinchillas are usually described as “low mainteinance” pets, along with rabbits, hamsters, mice, rats and the like just because they are small and live in cages.

While, in reality, I’d categorize as “medium maintenance” pets. I mean, you dont have to wake up at 8am to give them a walk or be worried they are scratching your couch or plotting to murder you while you sleep, but they are far from boring and require a lot more of care than “refill water and food bowls once every week, clean cage once it starts to smell” Plus, they live for 10 years or more. So you’d better have that in mind before getting one.

For starters, the cage needs to be huge. More tall than wide, because they are jumpy and like to have many stories within their cage. This is because they are native to the Andes, in South America. So youd better have that in mind when giving them their cage and making its setup. Wich should be... A lot of stories, their food bowl, hay rack, water bottle, and a couple of hiding holes and small houses. From there, you can expand it as much as you want. Put some bridges! More platforms and perches! Boxes! Etc. Basically, if its non-toxic and cant give them problems when ingested, go for it. It’ll make a good enrichment. Or theyll give it a good 2 second sniff and forget about it forever.

And Wood. Cardboard. But most importantly; wood. Your cage can’t be finished without some good chews. It’s not just because they chew the cage bars and wont let you sleep. But they are rodents, that means their teeth are always growing, and if they cant chew they’d die. And i dont mean in they “#omg #im dead” kinda way. Since their teeth are always growing, they’ll eventually won’t be able to close their mouth and if they manage to survive for longer, their teeth can reach their skulls and break in to the eyes and brain.

Speaking of teeth, they have to be yellow-brownish, and no, they are not dirty, don’t worry about that. All rodents have colured teeth.

And speaking of body parts. Male chinchillas have extremely long penis. And they clean it regularly, they succ their own dik. All the way to the bottom. So unless you cant really explain your innocent child what a Penis is, don’t get a Male. Males may get hair rings in their peens, that are... well, hair rings around it, they are painful and very very bad, so if you notice anything wrong with the downparts of your Chin, take a look at it.

They also do better in pairs or in small herds of 3-4 individuals, but if you dont have a life and you have all the time in the world to try fill the social void of your chinchilla, you can try. But yeah, try to keep at least two in the same cage. Just dont introduce a new chinchilla to the one you have without a proper introduction or they’ll fight eachother. I am not experienced with introductions, but I am sure you can find a good guide or ask someone who has experience.

You want a cuddly pet? Chinchillas are not for you. They tolerate some soft petting, and love cheek and neck scritches, but they generally dont like to be held of hugged.

Since chinchillas are pretty energetic, they need to get out of their cage at least 30 minutes every day, personally, I spend from 30 minutes to 1 hour and a half every day with my Chin

Make sure the room is Chinchilla-proofed. And when you think you have it, check again.

These lil shits will jump, scutter and try to make trouble. They chew wires, leather purses, footwear, foam, paper, including wallpaper, cardboard, sometimes plastic and metal, too. I caught mine chewing the walls stucco after he ripped some of the wallpaper off. They are small, and most of their mass is fur, so they can fit in most holes and spaces in your room. Dont be deceived. Their fluff lies.

On top of that they will use any and everything to get to the higher ends of the room. Nice shelf you have there, mind if I jump on your shoulder, then on to your desk and THEN parkour my way to it in less than 2 seconds?

What about the bathroom? you ask. Be prepared for them to take a stroll on your sink and in to you bathtub or shower, don’t forget to close the toilet seat and keep all your cleaners and dangerous stuff off from their tiny paws, and then, check again.

They are born troublemakers.

Ok, play time is over. Now what? How do I make them come back to the cage?

There is a method I Call P&P. Patience and Peanuts.

Step 1 Keep your treats in a jar. And give them some of those treats every once in a while, for about the first week or two after you brough them in to your home. In this period of time they wont get play time. And if they are already used to playtime, sorry buds, you gotta learn this first.

They’ll eventually associate Noise of jar opening = Treats

Now you are good to go.

Step 2

Patience. The first play times may be longer than youd expect. Maybe 2 hours, maybe 3. Whys this? Chinchillas dont really like to be inside their tiny cage and would rather spend all their time in this new place they can jump, run and play. But, maybe sometimes, theyll return to their cage. Thats fine. Do not close the door.

They need to understand that just because they are inside the cage, you are not going to stop play time.

Wait for this to happen the more the better. If they dont run off as soon as you approach the cage, you can give them a treat through the bars, you want the door space free.

Once you are bored and a long time has passed, you chins feel they can go inside and out all they want, wait for them to step inside If you are in a super hurry, try to encourage them with treats or gentle hand movements.

Then, once inside, reward them, use this distraction to close the door.

Step 3

Repeat untill... well, a month of so.

Step 4

Now stand next to the spot you give them the treats and open the jar. You should now have your chins inside the cage ready to be given the treats. Close the door and reward.

Step 5 Youve successfully trained your chinchillas to come when called by the sound of a jar of treats.

Theres obviously more methods, but this is the one I use, mostly because it just developed naturally.

After playtime, they need to rest and do other chinchilla things. You? you have to clean after them. Chinchillas pee inside the cage usually in a set spot, but they poo everywhere. On your bed, on your chair, your desk, your everything where they have been. They are poo machines, they dont stink and they are hard, so they are not too gross, but its still poo, so... clean it, please.

Talking about personal hygene, Chinchillas need Dust/Sand baths At the very LEAST once a Week. two or three are preferred. And no, not normal sand nor dust will do, it has to be Chinchilla Dust or Chinchilla Sand because their skin is fragile and HAS to be specific for chinchillas. Yes or Yes.

Oh, ok, why don’t i leave the dust/sand inside the cage so they can bath whenever they want? Because:

A) If they bath too much, their skin will dry and will occasionate troublesome dermal illnesses

B) Sometimes they pee and poo in there. And they will roll in it. Ew.

Please dont leave the sand bath in.

They don’t usually spend a lot of time bathing, 10 minutes will be enough. Or... when they get bored. The Bathtub needs to be sturdy enough so when they roll, it wont get topped, thats it. Top cover for reduced sand spreading is optional, it works, but you will still get sand everywhere around your chin.

Also, beware, even if you put a little bit of sand or dust, it will go floof and up in to the air, and then, down in to your floor/clothing/whatever.

If you are allergic to dust or have respiratory issues wear a mask or something if your Chin likes to make a mess.

To clean the “bathtub” you can scoop the poop and the unusual pee with something and re-use the sand untill you notice it is getting clumped or dirty.

Alright, day one is over, you head to sleep. Its 5am. Dead quiet. The lights are off, you are in your sweetest dream, eating a pizza. And then, when you least expect it, Hell breaks loose, delivering to your ears, the roar of 100 demons. Adorable little demons

They are not dying, they are scared of... something. If you just got your Chin it’s most likely the new enviroment and all the new stuff. Mine has been with me for a year and something now and while he doesn’t bark as much, sometimes he gives me a small heart attack when I’m in bed. Once a month, maybe, they don’t do this often.

And finally, let me reiterate:

They are smarter than what you may think.

Don’t let them decieve you.

Those bug eyed, big eared, fluffy little creatures know what to do, and how to do so that they always win.

#Chinchilla #Chinchilla care #I wrote this sleep deprived so if there is something wrong plz tell me #i may have also missed stuff but uhhh brain is weird right now

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