#where can you find silver ores | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

primus-why · 9 months

Text

More on the MegOp-centric Orion Pax arc we deserved 😤

Okay but imagine during the Orion Pax arc in TFP if it lasted longer. Imagine if Orion started to get to know some of the Vehicons (or even another large truck like Breakdown?) and would periodically hang out with them in the mess hall during fuel breaks.

Imagine, if you will, that Orion had also taken the time to research his own frame schematics. The change from his old frame was visibly obvious, but what other secrets did it hold? Turns out he is well-stocked with weapons, and has an increased stamina to accommodate them. Clearly, he is built for battle and for hauling large loads, no longer a mere archivist. And because of this, he thinks he could be doing more to help out Megatron and their cause...

Fast forward a bit, and Orion decides he wants to help move some of the energon ore that has been mined that day while on a fuel break. He assures the other Vehicons that it's no trouble at all before stepping through the ground bridge to the mine.

Suddenly, as if lured to their location, the Autobots arrive and make a direct assault on the mines! Orion ducks behind a part of the cave, preparing to online his weapons and defend his comrades...

... only to find that he can't!

His processor races, trying different commands to release the weapons, but they won't engage. A pair of Vehicons spot him while hiding in a similar spot, and they urge Orion to run back to the bridge.

"We'll cover you!" One of them says, just as the other steps out of their hiding spot to return fire.

Orion doesn't really get a chance to answer. He didn't want to leave without them, so he doesn't move right away. In that moment of hesitation, he watches as the other Vehicon is struck by blaster fire, and their companion steps out to pick up where they left off.

Orion is moving before he even realizes it. As other Vehicons pull back to retreat to the bridge, Orion moves across to reach the wounded Vehicon and their companion, who is now one of the last Cons still providing cover fire.

"Pax!" They say, "You need to get outta here! Megatron will--"

"-- Not without you! I won't leave a fellow Decepticon behind." And he means it. Orion doesn't care that he can't activate his weapons, he can still bring the wounded to safety.

Just as he scoops up the fallen Vehicon, some blaster fire catches the remaining Vehicon on the arm, grazing them and coming extremely close to Orion. He feels something shift, and before he knows what he's doing he's pointing one of his servos in the direction of the blast...

... only, it's not just a servo! He's got a blaster now too!

Orion acts on instinct, providing some additional cover fire while he and the rest of the Vehicons eventually escape. Once back, he delivers the Vehicon in his arms to the medbay and they thank him, their voice full of awe.

(Once out of audial range Knock Out advises the Vehicon to not let Lord Megatron catch them looking at Orion like that, as he doesn't tolerate "challengers" of any kind. 🙃)

Orion of course gets an audial-full from Megatron on how he is not to go into battle. It's far too dangerous! And Orion agrees somewhat-- he explains that he's learned of his weapons schematics, but since his servo transformed back after they returned to the ship he hasn't been able to re-engage the blaster.

"Perhaps... you could train me? To use my weapons, this frame more effectively?" says Orion. He sighs, "... I just want to help."

"And you are helping." Megatron assures him, "We need that database decoded--"

"-- Soundwave can do it just as well, yet he enters the field from time to time." Orion pouts, which is an expression Megatron hasn't seen in a very long time.

The silver mech chuckles. "Soundwave was a gladiator. His frame might be different than it once was, but as you say-- he's effective."

Orion slumps in defeat.

"Tell you what," says Megatron, "if you reach a point where you can reliably engage and disengage your weaponry on command, I will train you in the basics of combat."

Orion perks up at that, looking more determined.

"I'll get there. I promise, Megatron-- I won't let you down."

Megatron holds his gaze, smiling softly, "I know. You never disappoint, Orion."

Fast forward again. Orion is talking to the Vehicons about built-in weaponry (since they have blasters in their arms similar to his own schematics.) He still can't seem to do it on command, however.

One of them suggests he recreates the circumstances that brought it out the first time. (Another helpfully reminds everyone that would involve Orion facing down angry Autobots, which isn't likely to happen since Megatron has banned him from leaving the Nemesis until he's combat-ready.)

Orion offers to let them fire upon him in one of the training rooms, to which they all vehemently refuse.

"If Lord Megatron heard you were in the medbay because we shot you?? He'd snuff our sparks!"

Then one of them proposes that perhaps it wasn't actually blaster fire that caused them to activate, simply the encroaching threat.

"What if all Orion has to do is convince his frame he's in danger?"

After some more thought, they put a plan into action a couple days later: Orion will jump from the highest level of the engine room, and the threat of impact will cause his weapons to engage. He will study his frame's reaction in a controlled environment, ideally being able to remember how it feels to engage his weaponry, and therefore would be able to (in theory) recreate that feeling. Of course, before he hits the ground one of the flight frames will catch him, or at the very least slow his fall so he's not hurt too badly. It's brilliant! What could possibly go wrong?

After gathering some courage, Orion finally takes the leap, careful to study his internal reactions along the way.

"So... aren't you gonna go after him?" He hears one of the Vehicons above him say.

"What?!? I thought you were gonna--"

Wait... what?

Oh scrap. Scrap!! They're not flight frames! He's falling to his death for real!!

Orion scrambles for purchase on the sides of the smooth walls, to no avail. Sparks fly off his servos as he tries desperately to slow his fall in any way he can, knowing no one is coming to save him.

Suddenly, he spots a maintenance team emerging on the ground floor below, clearly there to do a routine inspection.

"Look out!!" Orion yells, "Move out of the way!!" He would hate to see anyone get sent to the medbay due to his own foolishness...!

Just as the Vehicons scramble back from whence they came, another figure emerges casually sipping energon, entirely unphased by the commotion.

"Megatron! Watch out!" As Orion calls out to his friend, he can spot the exact moment Megatron recognizes him. The silver mech's optics flare to their widest setting and he drops his cube, spilling precious fuel on the ground. His arms move up, as if to catch him...

... just then a ground bridge appears below Orion, which he goes through immediately (not that he had much of a choice in the matter.) When he comes out the other side, he discovers he is... falling upward?? And significantly closer to the ground from where he last left off, at that. Soon gravity takes hold and he falls back down again, but not nearly as drastically. With his descent successfully slowed, the bridges wink out of existence as quickly as they came, and Megatron swiftly catches him.

"Yes. Thank you, Soundwave." The silver mech says into his comm before turning to the mech in his arms, "Orion, what in the Pits possessed you to jump down the main engine shaft?!?!"

"I-I... uh..." was all Orion could manage to stutter. His processor was still overwhelmed, having just narrowly avoided a painful injury or worse.

Among his racing thoughts, an unbidden memory file queued up-- one where Megatronus was holding him in a similar fashion during one of his many visits to Kaon. The gladiator had literally swept him off his pedes, insisting he carry Orion the rest of the way to their destination, lest the archivist get too tired. Orion knew he could have protested-- he wasn't tired in the least-- but he wanted... by Primus, how he had wanted to be close to Megatronus...

Back in reality, the parallels of the situation sunk in, and Orion felt a blush creep onto his faceplates-- again, not unlike that particular memory. He had been smaller then, much easier to excuse being picked up by his larger companion, but now his frame was bigger and stronger. It should have been embarrassing. There was no reason to be carried, so he had accepted early on that there was no chance of repeating such an indulgence. Yet, here and now, Megatron was holding him; he had caught him, and Primus below it's like he was an archivist again, back when he weighed practically nothing to the gladiator--

"... I'm sorry." He said lamely, acutely aware of all the optics on him now. His blush deepened, wishing not for the first time he could hide behind the facemask that came with his new frame. "There's no excuse, I was being foolish. It won't happen again."

Megatron regarded him for a moment. "Your servos..." he eventually said, and Orion finally noticed just how badly he had scraped up his digits.

He let out a hiss as he flexed, inspecting the damage. "Right... I should probably visit the medbay." He made a move to get down, but Megatron simply readjusted his grip and turned around.

"Uh... Megatron?"

"I'll see to it you get there." Said the silver mech, like it was the easiest, most logical thing for him to do in the world.

"... Oh. Thank you, I... but I can still walk." He huffed out an awkward laugh, "Besides, I think we can agree I've troubled you enough for one day."

Megatron stopped walking and looked at him.

"Do you... want me to put you down?"

Surely he doesn't mean... he's not actually giving him the choice, is he??

"I-it's just that... I don't want you to strain yourself! I'm not as light as I used to be..." Orion couldn't bear to meet Megatron's optics, because he feared his friend might see right through him.

But the silver mech simply shrugged, "You're not that heavy. I don't mind." He paused for a moment, as if waiting for something.

"... If that's your only objection, then..." and with that he continued down the hall, making sure he took the long way to the medbay.

Megatron continued to steal glances at Orion when he could, noticing his flushed faceplates.

'... Cute.' He thought. 'Reminds me of that time I picked him up in Kaon. He blushed nicely then, too.'

Eventually the mech in his arms relaxed enough to rest his helm on his chassis with a small sigh, making his spark flip. However he was still aware of his archivist's bleeding servos, and the fact that Orion would probably start to wonder why he hadn't called for another bridge into the medbay. Megatron stayed his course, but picked up the pace a little.

'Forgive my indulgences, Orion... I want to stay by your side just a little longer...'

#megop #tfp #megatron #optimus prime #fuzz writes #cue Orion getting his servos wrapped up to heal so he's not able to work and so he feels extra bad #since now he can't even do the one thing he COULD do before #but that also means he has more of an excuse to spend time with Megatron 👀

114 notes · View notes

rriavian · 9 months

Text

Unofficial Business

So @jessamydreams wanted Corintheus cuddling and ever since Deliverance I've really loved soft!Corintheus ideas and them cuddling is currently one of my favourite things haha. So I posted a little snippet a while ago and I've finished the main/first bit of it. So I hope you enjoy!

It’s dark in the Dreaming.

Not shade, this is the sun going out—sudden, unexplained, cold—a lack of it even for the residents of the Dreaming, for the King’s creations, for the Corinthian, for even all who see with more than just eyes. This lack of light crosses from spectrum to concept because the idea of light has gone, the Corinthian’s sight remaining only by touch, by teeth licking the air, by feeling the breeze still caressing his tongues. Nothing else seems amiss, the Dreaming remains whole, but there is an uneasy murmuring amongst the dreams and nightmares that live here.

He senses the glances in his direction, feels their regard as a bitterness on his tongues, resents how they seem be waiting for him to take the cue to check it out.

The Corinthian will not.

He expects Lucienne will soon be exiting the palace with an explanation, will not linger for it as if he takes his lead from her, even curiosity not enough to win a fight against pride. Then Matthew finds him, the raven a sudden brightness only a star by contrast—glossy eyes a silver glow, the only light left outside it seems—passes on a summons, one from the King, and that is far harder to ignore. This time curiosity does win out, drives him to slink inside the palace, and there the Corinthian first finds flame.

He finds corridors lit by torches.

The King's room lit by Dream.

The Corinthian can see the glow through the cracks before he even opens the door. Then for a moment he can’t see at all—this light the only kind that can blind him, the only kind that does—then soft twilight, safe to blink in, the one that makes it safe to open your eyes. Dream is filtering it down, has done so without him even having to say a word, and it’s moments like this that make the Corinthian believe he really is his kings favourite.

Dream’s cheeks are flushed.

It’s subtle, just a light rosy pink, a crack in marble nonetheless, giving the game away because this delectable shade now highlighting sharp cheekbones is a clue to blood beneath. This a treasure map, where to dig or perhaps where to mine, this glimmer of quartz coyly announcing a vein of precious ore. The Corinthian wonders how deep it goes, wonders how this shade might darken, wonders how he can find out. Dream’s eyes are glassy, dazed, this starlight fever bright—how uncharacteristic for a star, how like flesh and bone—an answer to another question.

Outside the palace the Corinthian knows that the Dreaming is dark.

The sunset’s blushing here.

“You sick or something.” The Corinthian says abruptly.

He’s unable to help himself, unbalanced, blindsided to the point of almost not knowing what to say. Perhaps it’s because his eyes can finally feast, teeth no longer skittering off, sinking deep into a weakness he’s been built to taste and yet always been denied.

“Yes.” Dream replies.

The Corinthian has a look at that.

Dream is curled up under black sheets; not huddled, but leaning, testing the crutch of resting to see if it suits, sinking into the pillows. He’s sinking into it like waves pulling a ship beneath the sea, greedy not for softness but for novelty. It’s white skin displayed like sheets of ice against sheets of black, pink lips curving, a shade too dark for the quartz of his blush. Dream’s hair is tousled as ever, delicate and soft and oh; this is pleading, begging the Corinthian to come closer, to get hands on him, to get fingers in his hair.

To twist tight to make him whimper, to croon that he should make that sound again, that he should make it louder.

The Corinthian finds he likes it.

He likes it very much.

“I didn’t think you could get sick.” The Corinthian drawls.

“The alternative was unacceptable.”

The response isn’t so much clipped as insufficient, no hint of embarrassment for being seen here like this, because as always Dream just isn’t inclined to explain. It seems he is inclined to frown, brow furrowing unhappily as the Corinthian stands and stares, leaning against the door frame but not taking a single step inside.

His lips are dry, Dream licks them, swallows.

“You will join me.”

“In bed?”

“Yes.”

The Corinthian smirks. “Sure you—”

“Not for that.” Dream rolls his eyes as if he’s being foolish, then follows up with something so outlandish the Corinthian can’t believe it’s said with a straight face. “I would like for you to stroke my hair.”

There goes his belief that the king was at least lucid.

Dream’s eyes narrow dangerously.

“Now.”

The Corinthian laughs as he begins to approach. “So damn prissy today.”

The mattress dips under his weight.

Dream’s shoulders are bare above the blanket, the silk tucked up around him, and the Corinthian’s fingers deftly find the edges of it. He dips them under, brushes against skin, raises a brow.

“Are you naked under there?”

“Of course.”

The tone isn’t perplexed—Dream never is, even when surprised—treating this unexpected inquiry as a statement against what’s obvious. The Corinthian is far too intrigued to call him on it now, lifts the blanket so he can get under it, lays back against the cushions of this luxurious bed. Dream doesn’t lean against him, for all he’s asked the Corinthian to join him here he doesn’t inch closer, remains looking up at him expectantly.

Impatiently.

It seems this is still the Corinthian’s move.

So he gathers the King into his arms—picks him like plucking an apple from a tree, lush and ripe for him to taste—arranges Dream so that he lays curled against his chest, one cheek pressed against the Corinthian’s shirt, legs a deliberate tangle. For once he finds a subtle warmth beneath Dream’s skin; those ice sheets are melting, it seems, heat seeping beneath the Corinthian’s clothes, burrowing through fabric to find bare skin, and when he raises a hand to Dream’s hair the King himself arches into it.

“Happy?”

“Yes.” Dream says softly; dazed, softening like he’s shaving into snow, still pushing into the fingers combing through his hair. “Continue.”

The Corinthian does.

He glances down, gets stuck there, stuck tracing the profile of the King’s face from afar—ocular tongues can’t help but lick the back of the Corinthian’s teeth, want to lick him, want to trail along both cheekbones—the blushing quartz perhaps a touch darker now. The Corinthian’s fingers are so close to Dream’s cheek, could press down on skin, could slice with a nail and see how close to the surface this vein of precious ore really is. For now he repeats, fingers curling through dark strands with a half completed urge to pull, satisfaction in the doing, pleasure even as the motion ends in a soft caress.

The Corinthian decides to use a little more of his strength, massages the King’s scalp, tugs as he withdraws, slides back to touch again. It provokes a questioning sigh that quickly melts into a pleased hum.

Dream doesn’t speak for a moment.

“I believe when humans are ill they are given soup.”

The Corinthian pauses with his fingers twisting in Dream’s hair.

“I’m not feeding you soup.”

#corintheus #fic progress #my writing #sickfic #technically #the corinthian #dream of the endless

42 notes · View notes

lenreli · 7 months

Text

Day 31 - Eldritch Horror [AU]

[AO3]

Hob is ― quite surprised to wake up, considering the tall tower window he took a chance out of. Though, he’s definitely not where he was, which is probably a plus, considering the carnage he left behind, and the guards that were chasing after him.

Though, hearing the blood-curdling wailing in where he ended up, Hob gathers his courage as he climbs up oddly floating rocks and upside-down islands of trees and plants, ores of gold shining brightly with blood splattered on the islands he walks across, not sure what he’s even walking towards. “Anyone there?” He pants, looking up and finding something sparkling in the distance, up a levitating path of rocks and islands. “Up there, then,” he mutters to himself.

As he makes his way up, he tries to shake off the feeling of being watched, stomach twisting unpleasantly as his senses scream at him, the red-black void of space becoming more and more ― intense, like it’s a life of its own as he gets to the top plateau. As the glinting item comes into sight, his body locks up as he stares at the shining silver helm, spines of the helm leaking blackness.

And the helm tilts its head and Hob lets out a yelp, stepping back to the edge of the plateau. And how did a tiny mortal like you get here? A deep voice says, and Hob swallows, mind blaring to run, run as the helm’s silver slides off, showing a black helm and unsettling red eyes.

“I don’t know? I was being chased and decided to take a chance from a high tower window?” He explains weakly. The helm is tilted even more, and soon enough pale hands appear, and Hob expects something terrible as the helm is taken off, floating in the space but―

Robert Gadling, the voice says, and Hob gulps, still scared out of his mind but that voice, saying his name, makes him shiver as a creature is revealed, hands and pale neck, going up to a pale face, eyes as black as the void, hair black and shoulder-length, surprisingly wavy and curly and the creature looks so young, even though Hob knows its not, as the black of the void are terrifying wings, a white skeleton pair of wings surrounded by black, the creature’s body vanishing into the void. You could be useful.

Hob gapes, taking a deep breath to centre himself as he ignores the parts of him that are scared, that terrified with seeing an eldritch thing in the flesh ― and ignores that he’s interested, that he wants to see if the creature’s cheekbones are as soft as they seem, or the absurd pink of his lips are as plush as they look. “Well, I mean, if I get to live another day, then sure,” he offers with a smile.

The creature tilts its head and there’s a blink, long black lashes over pale skin as the creature ― doesn’t step forward, but is closer, the same height as him as Hob tries not to fall over the edge of the island. You do not even ask what I require as long as you can live? The creature says, tone almost amused, and Hob swallows as a strong, pale hand cups his jaw, black nails stroking down the stubble of his beard.

“I’m a simple man,” he breathes, heart racing as he’s caressed, touched, and he realises that this creature probably knows what he was thinking somehow, “not even a good one, either.”

The creature's eyes sparkle, like the night sky as the pink of its lips smile. I am not good either, you will find, but I can make you live. Eternally, immortal and never-dying. Hob swallows, and the hand on his jaw trails down to his adam’s apple. The process will be painful, and pleasurable, in many ways your little mind can not comprehend, and you will not even have to change your life if you do not want to. I only ask that you also take my requests when I ask in dreams.

“I could do that,” he whispers, cock twitching in his pants as the creature talks ― and the creature grins, teeth too perfectly white ― and a hand slashes into his throat, another slashing into his chest, and Hob closes his eyes as the pain-pleasure crescendos as he’s torn into. Remade, he can feel it in his bones, in his soul as he cries out, orgasming without a body as―

I will see you soon, the creature whispers as Hob wakes up, the tall tower in sight as he runs out of the bushes, the night sky a change from the day that he ran from. Running away into the forest, he looks around as his legs stitch themselves back together, a tree branch painful as he takes it out of his arm. The wound heals before his eyes ― and there’s a persistent itch beneath his shirt, so pulling it up, he goggles at the silver helm branded on his skin, underneath his chest hair and over his heart, the red eyes of the helm shining.

“Are you okay, sir?” A familiar ― sort of, lesser but a still so recognisable voice asks and Hob tugs down his shirt as he turns around, confused as he sees a spitting image of the creature, but human, eyes blue but lips still as pink ― or a doppelganger? Hob’s so confused as he stares, brain caught on the way sunlight shines through the man’s wavy hair. “You seem hurt.”

“I am ― just had a fall,” he says with a smile, wondering what the fuck is going on in general as the doppelganger blinks. “I promised to meet up with my friends at the pub, so I’ll,” he gestures as he lies and as he walks off ― before a surprisingly strong hand from such a slight man, grabs onto his wrist.

The doppelganger blinks, lips pursing and Hob tries not to think about anything regarding them, “do I know you?”

#dc #the sandman #dreamling #dreamling fanfic #dreamling smoctober #smoctober 2023 #dream x hob #hob x dream #hob x morpheus #writing #not sfw #vibes said eldritch dream but awos style #¯\_(ツ)_/¯#wrote this on the spot so yk #no idea what's happening either #aside from the impeccable vibes

43 notes · View notes

childlikegoblinqueen · 4 months

Text

Grimwalker Lore: The Boy of Clay and Bone.

Another in universe Grimwalker Scary Tale with an afterword by Flora D'Splora.

TW for gore and other nasty stuff.

THE BOY OF CLAY AND BONE

Once a married couple sent their only son to war. It was a demand of the ruling king that one child of every peasant family between age 12 and 21 be sacrificed to the service as a soldier.

They prayed every night that the Titan would grant his safe return – and one night a knock came to the door that they hoped was their child, but instead it was a castle guard.

“Your boy has been lost in his noble service to the crown.” The guard bowed their head and handed the mother a small blue stone. “In return the King offers you a gift.”

“We have lost our only joy in the world.” The father growled, “In a war we did not begin and the King repays us with a gemstone? The life of our child cannot be bought!”

“In return for your sacrifice, the King has given you a galderstone. It can be used to make your spells more powerful – or you may sell it for a sum that will grant you a life of luxury.”

The guard then drew three more spell circles, and out popped a box wrapped in gold, a box wrapped in silver and a box wrapped in a shiny red.

“So the King wishes to bribe us for our grief.” The mother sighed. “I suppose the three boxes are filled with gold, fine silver, and silk for fine clothing?”

The servant shook their head and gestured to the golden box.

“In this package, you will find the skeletal remains of your son. Bone of Ortet.” They said.

The servant gestured to the silver box. “In this box you will find the lungs of a stone sleeper.”

The Servant gestured to the ruby red box, “In this box you will find the scales of a selkidomus. If you head into the forest under the full mood and retrieve a branch of a palistrom tree, you may use the galderstone and these ingredients to recreate your lost child in the form of a grimwalker servant. But heed this warning. If you do so, you must add iron ore to the soil so its bile sac shrinks to the size of a goreberry. He may rise and look like your son, but these werms* are not true witches. It is forbidden by the rule of the land to raise one with magic like a true witch.”

“And if we do, will the King Strike us down?” The father asked.

“If you do, you will seal your own doom.” The servant replied. And with that, he turned and left the couple behind.

The couple mourned their child for three months and often passed their neighbors at market – many others had perished in the battle and it had become more common to see a family out for a stroll with a replica of their dead child in tow – nearly identical were many to the originals, though some variations did arise – but each one shared a particularly unsettling feature with the next. Each one had eyes as red as blood that glowed when it was dark.

After a while the couple relented. Overcome by the void of loss they harvested a palistrom branch and buried the galderstone along with a rib bone of their lost son and the other ingredients in the clay beside the grave they had made for the original.

But they had forgotten to add the iron ore as instructed.

After the allotted time, a hand rose from the pit of clay twisted as a rotten vine. It was followed promptly by a head. Then a body, full grown and naked and bathed in the full moonlight.

The couple were overjoyed! This creature had an uncanny resemblance to their son as he had been before death at age 13! The mother and father rushed to embrace the creature – but when it opened its eyes it locked the parents in place with a hypnotic red glare.

Without a second thought the creature ate them from head to toe and headed into town where it met a trickster kitsune* demon on his way to market to sell his wares.

“Well, what have we here?” It crooned. The creature just stared back with blank red eyes that the kitsune just knew meant this was a lost grimwalker. “So someone has misplaced their servant!” His tails waved with interest, “I’m sure you are needed around your master’s home for chores – but you have crossed my path and I know you will fetch a good price at the market.”

The kitsune waited for a word of protest from the creature, maybe a declaration of that its owner was down the road, but nothing came.

“Not a bright one I suppose,” The kitsune shrugged. “Well,they often prefer it when you creatures mind your voices. Submit to me and we will find use for you in the home of a wealthy noble.”

So pleased was the kitsune with its find that even its very keen ears missed the sound of the grimwalker’s growling stomach. The creature locked the demon in place with the magic in its eyes and ate it, leaving only a rib to pick the flesh out of its teeth.

Eyes redder than ever, the monster moved towards the walls of a castle garden. With magic from its cursed bilesac it summoned the ground below to form steps on which it climbed the wall in two leaps.

Now this was the king’s favorite garden where only the royal family was welcome – and on this night it happened that the young princess had snuck out to play amongst the red roses that bloomed only under a full moon.

Foolish was she that she defied the king the last three times he had caught her in his garden after dark – and so confident was she that her magic would protect her from harm that she barely flinched at the sound of footsteps that approached – until a savage roar filled the air.

The princesses head snapped up to meet two hungry eyes – red as the roses she loved so much.

“Hello,” she greeted. The creature didn’t answer as the princess made out the shape of its body. Now the princess had been sheltered and raised by a nanny of a daft stack of scary tales where girls such as she were spirited into the night by mysterious suitors – thus she could not sense the intention of the vile thing that approached.

“Why you’re just a boy!” She laughed. “And you are no older than I am!”

The creature cocked its head at her curious tone, it did not approach – but the princess closed the space between them. “Your eyes are the prettiest I have ever seen! Come into the light, I bet you are my one true love come to take my hand in marriage.”

And the monster seemed tame for the moment – and some may say that it was the princess’s gentle nature, perhaps her gentle tone, but alas – it was the smell of flowers that rendered the creature still, momentarily unable to smell the stench of its own rotting flesh.

But the princess laid her bare hands on its cheek and reminded it of its insatiable hunger, and it did not hesitate to leave her a pile of bones for her father to retrieve at sunrise.

______________________________________________________________________________________________

*"Werm" is an old Lovoeden word for "vermin", often associated with grimwalkers in the pre-Deadwardian times. Some texts suggest this term was used even earlier in reference to Basilisks.

** This tale is quite unfair to kitsune! We no longer see them as trickster demons. -- FLORA D'SPLORA

#the owl house #toh fanfic #toh grimwalkers #grimwalker #grimwalker biology #toh grimwalker #grimwalkers #tw blood #tw body horror #tw gore #tw horror #flora desplora

13 notes · View notes

beevean · 6 months

Text

I found a post with some pages of the MF manga in Japanese, so, well, I couldn't resist the temptation :P

Devil Forging. Originating from great magical power, it's a demonic technique to create a familiar (Innocent Devil) that is loyal only to you. It is said that there are only two people in this world who have mastered this hideous technique: a young man with red hair blazing like fire, Isaac, and a young man with silver hair like the shining moon, Hector. The place where they acquires their demonic skills, the castle...

The original translation translated Devil Forging as "Demonic alchemy", perhaps to connect it with the rest of the introduction. Fun fact, the Japanese term is actually "refining", as in purifying an impure metal.

"Loyal only to you" is "己にのみ忠実". 己 can either mean "I" or "oneself" in a humble way, or "you" in a derogatory way. I went with the latter.

"All right... My name is Hector. This is my cursed power."

Mostly 1:1. Interesting that Hector uses the formal wa ga rather than ore no.

"Death has vanished!"

"It was Belmont. The Belmont man has come. To think this hall has fallen so soon..."

"But of course. The person coming with Belmont... is the Count's son."

"Adrian... Not just Hector, but you as well... Foolish traitors..."

The official translation was more literal and translated shinigami as God of Death lmao

Worthy of note is that Dracula is calling Alucard kisama :) oh he's mad :)

"Wouldn't it be better to become a demon? Hey, let's do that! And then we'd have more friends!"

Admittedly I'm guessing with the last line, because I can't see the whole bubble. But it would make sense, more than child Hector wanting to "befriend" adult Hector. He was so lonely he thought he'd find companionship with devils, and he might as well have turned himself into one :)

"It's your fault, Hector. Ggh... If you hadn't betrayed us... I would never have left Lord Dracula's side! If you...! Hadn't run away... If you and I had been there! [...] N... no... That's not it... If I... If I had been at His side... at least... Why? Why, sir?"

"What's happening...?"

Yes, it's 1:1. I decided to include it for the pain :) also Isaac switching to polite language to make clear that he's speaking to Dracula in his mind shattered my heart :)

(too bad the picture cuts "Why can we not even die together?", which destroys me on the spot every single time. This poor man.)

Hector only says "様子が...". It means "state, situation, appearance, demeanor", so it's hard to translate. The general meaning is that Hector finds Isaac's behavior odd and concerning... although I still think it's not too strange, considering his beloved Lord just died, no wonder he's in shock and blaming himself.

«Just now...»

"Excuse me, what was all that fuss earlier?"

"[...] Well... You've come at a bad time. The town has been in an uproar since morning. Indeed... How didn't we realize until now? She's a witch. [...] Everyone who ate died."

«I'll go into town. Can I ask you to chop some firewood?»

"It looks like she was immediately captured and taken to the plaza. Truly terrible stuff... I heard that the witch had been living on the hill all this time."

«I'll be right back, Hector!»

Again 1:1. Nothing to note, admittedly. It's again for the pain :)

#castlevania #akumajou dracula #curse of darkness #yeah the manga seems to have been translated well aside from some odd game terms #oh well it's still fun

12 notes · View notes

drstonetrivia · 6 months

Text

Chapter 214 Trivia

The two-part connected covers are so cool, I'm happy we got two colored ones in a row!

There's a sneaky rat (or mouse?) on the cover! Unfortunately I have zero idea what this could be alluding to. It could be nothing, or it could be implying that Ukyo (same colors) is the t(ra)i(t)or…

The inside of Xeno's scar is also colored white! New petri-scar theories?

The name of the chapter is a reference to the Earth Defense Force (地球防衛軍) video game series. Its plot is that radio waves from deep space are picked up by scientists on Earth, and a multinational military is formed afterwards in case the aliens are hostile. Sound familiar?

Suika's helmet has a top part! I am wondering where it appeared from though.

Before this moment, they'd always revived whole statues. If it's possible to revive an incomplete statue, and the missing pieces don't grow back as part of the healing effect of the depetrification, it means it's not the end for someone if they're missing a limb.

Senku is using his arm wrappings to pick up the device. I wonder why he suddenly felt the need to use them…

When glass containing a vacuum breaks, the pieces get sucked in along with the air suddenly filling the space at very high speeds. They then smash into the middle before shattering outwards again. Think of what happens when you drop a rock into a bucket of water!

You may have noticed that the resulting glass doesn't quite follow what should have happened there, so the other possible option for how the glass shattered is thermal shock. Cracks of this type begin perpendicularly to the edge of it, which we can sort of see here.

In both cases, glass would have ended up on the inside of the container, but we see none. Could the medusa's pressure wave have thrown all the glass away from itself? And if that's the case, why are the glass walls still standing?

Chelsea: somehow stealing Suika's job and traits as much as possible. Why is it detective Gen!? Bring back detective Suika!

There's now a third boat donning the "Perseus" name: Perseus D. Monkey. This one is heavily inspired by One Piece, specifically the protagonist Monkey D. Luffy. The head of the ship is painted like a monkey: a reference to One Piece, the steam gorilla, and the old Perseus design.

The ship design itself is a smaller, more maneuverable version of the original Perseus. It's also a hybrid with an engine, and rather than having the whole mast rotate, they've designed it as a sailboat with a rotating boom.

The Kagoshima prefecture mine they probably went to is the Kushikino mine, which is the only one that has selenium-silver ores (naumannite & aguilarite), but also has ores containing both arsenic and tellurium. Because the area is volcanic, there's likely several skarn deposits.

Kagoshima's mines are in fact most known for their gold deposits, so Senku is probably finding more to replenish Chrome's gold stash.

Senku's video camera tube is based off Japan's saticon from 1973. The "SAT" in its name is derived from "SeAsTe"; the symbols for the selenium, arsenic and tellurium used on its photoconductive (not photoelectric) surface.

Remember the fax machine from chapter 207, how Senku said matching up the timing was important? Well the horizontal distortion in the image here is exactly the same concept: the horizontal lines are shifted to the left or right due to minor errors.

Before anyone says that Whyman can hack their television signal from the moon, remember that these are basically cable TVs, where you'd have to rewire it for a new input if you wanted it to display a different image. Anything sneaky would have to be an inside job…

We have the (Stan)Lee vs Xeno baseball game happening on the field outside the castle. Since the ball smashes through the window of the TV room, and the world record for longest baseball hit distance is 177m, you can tell the batters take after Stanley. (They can.)

A reference to 20th Century Fox, one of the many names for one of the biggest American film studios.

Obviously, the 58th is a reference to their current year.

We got a better location on the computer's house, it's a lot closer to Roppongi than I first thought! I wonder how close it is to Senku's grave and Tsukasa's pile of statues that he wanted to revive…

#trivia #dr stone #chapters #214 #this and the previous chapter hold a special place in my heart because of a particular fanwork's setting :)

17 notes · View notes

risingshine · 4 months

Text

@puelluna

"Adamantine? Uhhhmmm..." Arya looks towards the back of the bar, "Gimme like...five seconds." Before Chiasa can object, Arya is rushing up the stairs and is gone...but only for a few short moments. Soon, she's back!! And with some kind of pinkish chunk in her hands, about the size of Chiasa's fist. The redhead sets it on the countertop with a loud "CLUNK!" "One chunk of Adamantine ore, just for you," she hums with a smile, "As for materials that are effective against specific creatures, you'll want meteoric silver for that. It's got a pretty widespread net of monsters who are pretty highly allergic, from fey to werewolves to a whole bunch of others, too." A pause before she realizes Chiasa might be expecting her to have that, too, and she rubs the back of her head, "...I don't have any of that on me right now, but I could probably get some!"

Chiasa would try to ask her wehere she was going, but found out soon enough - a chunk of adamantine! Hurrah! She couldn't help but give the woman a tight hug. She wasn't sure if it was adamantine for what she was going to use it for, but it was a start!

"thank ya thank ya thank ya!"

She gave the woman a few kisses across her face before pulling back, taking the chunk and placing it into her hair pocket.

"Ooh, metoric silver sounds super cool! I'll see if any of my friends know where ta find something like that - but if ya can find something like that, I'd be in ya debt!

Oh! And what did ya make fa ya weapon? Did ya use metoric silver too?"

#a sunny dog; chiasa

6 notes · View notes

pokemon-legends-and-legacies · 9 months

Note

SabotageShipping (Wallace/Winona/Steven) -Torchic

Name: Gale, short for Galen

Name Origin: Galen is a Greek name meaning "calm", just like Winona's JP name. The most famous bearer was a Roman physician of Greek origin who is considered one of the most accomplished of antiquity. Gale as a nickname derives from the word meaning "storm". Additionally, galena is a type of mineral ore that is an important source of silver, also associated with the mineral fluorite, which often comes in the colors blue, turquoise and purple.

Gender: Male

General Appearance: Light turquoise, wavy hair worn long, but usually tied back in a messy bun and with hair-clips. Lilac eyes with near constant eye-bags. Gale loves fashion but since he has to wear a uniform for work, offsets this by accessorizing where he can. Big fan of any and all cool colors (warm tones don't suit his complexion). Wears makeup to hide his sleep deprivation (and to look good) whenever he has a day off.

Personality: When he was younger, Gale was pretty aloof and antisocial. He didn't have much interest in making friends, perfectly happy to do his own thing and preferring the quiet. When he decided to become a Pokémon Doctor, however, he realized that being more approachable was an important part of the job, so he's been working hard ever since to try and be less intimidating. He's kind at heart, and a tireless worker, always striving for self-perfection (sometimes working too hard and being too hard on himself though.)

Special Talents: As a sleep-deprived Pokémon Center resident, he has the special ability to fall asleep anywhere and anytime, even standing up in or surrounded by noise. His coworkers often find him on his breaks with his long limbs curled up in a chair completely knocked out. He also has a patented "death stare" he uses on unruly patients. Stay still so we can examine you - or else! 😊

Who They Like Better: It's a pretty even tie for Winona or Wallace. His mom is the one he enjoys spending time with the most, especially things like sitting outside and reading/working together, or going out flying on their pokémon, but Wallace is the one he looks up to the most and aspires to emulate. He loves Steven too, but the two argue the most out of all his parents, oops.

Who They Take After More: He has a lot of Winona in his personality, but his work ethos and perfectionist streak are more from Wallace, while his self-confidence and unintentional popularity are all Steven. His independence comes from all three!

Personal Headcanon: His main partner pokémon is Chimecho, who when not assisting her trainer at the PokéCenter, enjoys making music with him as he plays the xiāo flute.

#Answer #Pkmn Fankids #SabotageShipping #if they had a kid meme #justatorchic

18 notes · View notes

llyncooljones · 1 year

Text

actions have consequences - twelve days of rowaelin '22.

ao3 || masterlist || twelve days of rowaelin ‘22 masterlist

prompt: santa getting caught out.

word count: 1193

trigger warnings: language, sexual themes

tag list: @live-the-fangirl-life @rowaelinismyotp @fireheartwhitethorn4ever @elentiyawhitethorn @rowanaelinn @autumnbabylon @leiawritesstories @backtobl4ck @letstakethedawn @rowaelinscourt

It was Christmas Day, and Rowan Whitethorn-Galathynius was reclined on the massive sectional his wife had bought years ago, in order to fit him, and his giant friends. There was a similar couch opposite, which she bought for her and her similarly small friends.

He was no longer sure which had been bought first, nor which person coveted it the most.

He was bedecked in matching Christmas pyjamas, a shirt proclaiming him ‘GRUMPY CLAUS’ with a shoddy illustration printed beneath it of him in a Santa hat. Also, his frown—is majorly exaggerated.

His wife’s named her ‘MRS CLAWS’, a similarly shit drawing of a cat wearing a Christmas hat, and a turquoise collar declaring it ‘A.A.W.G.’.

His kids’ pyjamas were a variation of animal puns, and their own most identifiable personality trait. Their oldest, Oren, who was barely five hadn’t taken his off since they presented to him on the twenty-third, and no matter how hard they tried, he was irrationally attached to them.

As his wife stood, popping into the kitchen to grab herself another drink, Oren stood from where he was laying out his latest unwrapped gift—a LEGO set he’d practically begged for. He toddled his way to Rowan, and with scrambling legs got himself up onto the sofa.

He squashed the cushions that Rowan had agonisingly plumped the night before, and he couldn’t help but laugh. “Squashing down the cushions so that your uncles are uncomfortable—maybe you’re less like me than I thought. That is all your mother, Ore.”

For once, when he compared his son to the boy’s mother, he didn’t smile, grin, or laugh and run to tell Aelin. He frowned, his lips wobbled, and he looked absolutely distraught. “Don’t say that, daddy. Don’t. You don’t know what you’re comparing me to.” His son frowned even deeper, and Rowan's heart broke.

What on earth was going on?

“Kiddo, can you tell daddy what’s wrong?” his son shook his head, and slam himself into the couch cushions as if the world were ending. His heart rate picked up with a concern, what was his son doing, let alone talking about? “Can you whisper it in my ear? So, no one can hear, yeah?”

Oren gave a shaky nod, and scrambled along the cushions to settle himself right next to Rowan, practically breaking his ribs with the force he sat down. He got himself onto his knees and grabbed onto his hair, yanking Rowan’s silver locks like it wasn’t attached to his head. “Ow, bud, that hurt,” he chastised gently, prying the little fingers from his hair.

“This gonna hurt e’en more, daddy. But I need to get closer, so I can whisper in your ear, so mummy doesn’t hear me. She can’t know, daddy. She can’t!” he emphasised his final point with a foot stomp absorbed by the fluff in the cushion, but it rocked Rowan like an earthquake’s epicentre was directly beneath him.

“Alright, no telling mummy. But let’s tell daddy now, yeah. Because daddy really wants to know, you’re making him worried, Oren.” His tone was muted, calming to his nearly five-year-old.

Placing a foot on his ribs to reach his father’s ear, Oren began “Y’know how Mrs H and Mr H divorced because he loved other women, daddy?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Mummy loves other men.” Oren's tone is gentle, and he tries to run a soothing hand up and down Rowan’s shoulder but only serves to catch a sharp bit of fingernail in the soft, loose cotton, and snag it. He whimpers as Rowan pulls it out.

Rowan attempts to sit up, going to find the nail scissors he and his wife have stashed all around the house for such incidents, but fails as his son whispers once more, “She loves Santa, daddy. I snuck downstairs yesterday, and I saw her kissing him, just like she kisses you. Gah,” he spits out, horrified by the idea of affection and others ‘things’ between his parents.

Shit. Shit. Shit, Rowan thinks. How could he and his wife—his very attractive wife—have been so absorbed in each other that they hadn’t noticed their four-year-old making his way down the ancient, creaky staircase?

And how come his son couldn’t recognise him, when he clearly recognised Aelin, Rowan hadn’t even been wearing a Santa hat, for the gods’ sake.

He wasn’t insulted, he wasn’t. But it did sting a tad.

“Oh, kiddo. Let me grab some nail scissors so you don’t snag your nail again, and then we’ll talk this through.” Rowan placated, finally moving his son off him enough to stand up and stretch.

“And don’t tell mom—”

“I won’t trust me. I won’t tell her.”

Rowan wandered into the kitchen, cool as a cucumber, but quickly changed attitude when he caught sight of his wife. His body reacted, but he shushed it—and he suddenly remembered why they weren’t able to hear their clumsy, loud, and not-very-sneaky child as he made his way down the stairs last night. He had picked well, so very, very well.

His hand caught her shoulder, and he dragged her out of the kitchen, to the downstairs bathroom, which he pushed them into. He locked the door and turned around to find his wife with her pyjama shirt off and matching trousers around her thighs, bent over the sink, a wicked glint in her eye.

“Time for my Christmas present, babe?” she asked, crooking a finger at him, winking, and shaking her hips a tad. Her arse jiggled too, and he had to physically restrain himself from pouncing on her, and delivering on every promise he’d whispered in her ear this morning—whilst their children were heading for their bedroom door, of course.

“No.” she pouted, and ran a hand under herself to entice him, “No! your ‘present yesterday whilst we were setting up stockings is why we’re in here now, and we need to have a chat.”

“Uh-huh, hence why I’m trying to have you fuck me.”

“No, as in we were so caught up in our kiss that we didn’t notice Oren sneak downstairs just in time for him to witness us kissing.”

“No, oh my gods, no.” she hurriedly pulled her trousers, and with a chaste kiss to the top curve of her boob, Rowan pulled her shirt over her head. “we have to have the talk with him, about Santa not being real. Fuck, I wanted to hold on to that, at least till next year.

“Yep. Worse than that, he recognised you, but not me. So now he thinks you’re cheating on me, like Mrs H cheated on Mr H, only you aren’t cheating with your assistant, you’re cheating with fucking Santa Claus.”

“So, we need to find out where he heard about Mrs and Mr H, and we need to tell him that—”

“Santa’s not real. Perfect, honestly.”

A gasp sounds outside of the door, first “Santa’s not real?” at a decibel loud enough that their youngest two children heard—perfect—and then, “I hate you, daddy, you told me you wouldn’t tell mummy!” in a hurt tone—perfect—before a final, “have you got the scissors daddy, it got caught on the sofa?”

#12 days of rowaelin #twelve days of rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #rowaelin fic #rowaelin #tog #tog fic #throne of glass #throne of glass fic #llyncooljones' writing

48 notes · View notes

runefactorynonsense · 1 year

Note

Glad you're feeling a little better!! Maybe one of your favorite locations from Frontier? I haven't played it but it looks beautiful from what I've seen

Thank you for this ask, Twig. It was a wonderful excuse to paint a background, which is my most favorite thing♥

I have to say, I waffled on this decision because there's so many things "your favorite location" could mean; most story memorable, most beautiful, place with the best music, etc.

Eventually I decided on the game's second dungeon,

LAVA RUINS.

In a way, this place is none of the above; it doesn't have my favorite music from the game's soundtrack (that would be the Snow Ruins).

It isn't my most beautiful (Raguna's homestead or the Town Square with full Runeys, just, yes).

It isn't the most story memorable (that, again, belongs to Snow Ruins. Notice a pattern?)

BUT. This place won out over its wintery cousin in this art choice because it has personal significance, in the place where I got nearly softlocked in this game for four. years. all because I had the WORST rng known to mankind.

A tip, if you ever get one or two pieces of silver at this point in the game, covet them. Make them into an icy hammer, or a nice sickle. Then you unlock the rest of the game. Try to not be like me, who simply never got a silver drop, who had to kill mini golem after mini golem after mini golem in vain hopes that were almost never fulfilled. My younger self, in my first year of college, could only find the time to play this game during summer and winter break. And it took... several tries.

I have such a love-hate relationship with it. I hear the first minute of this place's theme in my head, and can remember the run to a certain junction where those golems spawned. I remember the RELIEF, and how FAST I got things done after I got that little piece of ore. The white whale of my Rune Factory life was slain. It is also just, an amazing place lore wise that sets the tone for the rest of the game; a Rune Research Facility, destroyed by some experiment done there years and years ago... These Raguna games are subtly dark, yo, and I love it.

All in all, this is not a true to life representation of this place. I no longer have a save file where I can run around and take screenshots, so I decided to not base this on any particular area. The patterns on the place's walls seem to be mainly geometric from screenshots I found, so I decided to make up my own patterns. Two of the game's bosses are hidden in the walls, and a Terrable is in between them. Because, well. I can.

Also, the dungeon theme for the road;

youtube

18 notes · View notes

maximaxstreasurebox · 1 year

Text

TWST Diasomnia Chapter Part 1

Summary notes(/reactions) I wrote while reading with the help of Google translate...obviously spoilers-

(2022.12.19) EP 7-1 to EP 7-19

yuu dreamed about the maleficent

freaks out, runs out to look at statue

meets diasomnia gang, calls Malleus 'Tsunotaro'

Sebek angy, Silver and Malleus shush him

Lilia runs in 'in school girl fashion'

slept over bcuz gamer night (Idia?), Silver tried to wake him up 3 times

Lilia is gloomy/anxious(?) during when waking up, bed-hair

Malleus invites yuu to talk about Maleficent

gang leaves to 3rd year orientation for 4th year

3 months per season, 3 courses, must do 2 to attempt graduation exam

company applications through interviews and grades

Trey thinks between food industry and science

Cater thinks between media and theme park management(?)

Ace's brother chose theme park management(?) back then

Should switch between companies for experience

Trey&Cater "idk what to choose, so time to listen to some classmates" tour begins; Vil&Rook

Vil - movie studio or potion, no college

Rook sad he cant see Vil in 4th grade

Rook- archaeological research, chose it after STYX accident showed him hidden beauty in world, college maybe?

Leona where the fck did you climb up from

lol he occupying a row to nap

Vil: take this seriously Leona: already applied :] everyone:??????

he's read the papers while Crowley was talking

Leona - mining and energy research company (geology)

of course he chose it to bitch about it for his bro

Rook: IDIA Idia: i do not exist

no Ortho here bcuz he's 1st year :)))

Idia: its a waste of time here when im already got a job offer everyone:????

he got offers after presentation on culture festival

Vil: is it…. STYX? Idia: nah hell, got kicked out temporally basically so media wont come after my fam *point at letter by dad*

Idia's parents got angy when he built a vacuum robot at age 8 and other shits

Vil: so where did u apply? Idia:……Olympus (no.1. market place, hardest to apply to) (btw web designer or what) everyone: EEEEEEHHHHH??!?!?!? (side note: this genuinely got me sad bcuz he first declined the offer back in chapter 5 epilogue)

Lilia: why are you laying on the desk, Cater?

Malleus cant decide which ones worth it

Lilia………….didn't choose anything……bcuz he will drop out of school

EVEN MALLEUS DIDNT KNOW IT

YUU TALKS ABOUT MICKEY TO REST OF 1ST YEAR GANG

Yuu showed the pic of Mickey, gang go uuuhh?

Grim: his ears are bigger than mine…

Ortho connecting to google, doesnt find anything about Mickey

Yuu talks about Mickey's room and friends

summary by Ortho: 1, Mickey is not from TWST, 2, time moves in Mickey's world too, 3, can only talk to him when he's sleeping

something with the mirror… Ortho uses this word: 銀歯 (silver-tooth????)

Ortho: do you know [Kouseki Radio]? (鉱石ラジオ)

oh we're going technology nerd talk, basically a radio made from ores and things without any electricity involved

sooooooooo the 'silver-tooth' he described is what used as a signal recorder(?)... like the needle on old vinyl

next nerd talk item: [Hitomi no Kagami], a hand mirror

current theory by Ortho: the mirror in Yuu's room is a [Hitomi no Kagami], a mirror used for communication

gang: wait.....then if Mickey is from another world, there might be a way to find Yuu's home world???

research group with 1st year gang! everyone takes turn at taking a chance to meet Mickey at night :D

Sebek and Silver flabbergasted that Lilia leaves school

LILIA....HIS MAGIC IS RUNNING OUT......... he can no longer fly, thats why he ran in the morning...

HE ALSO MOVES OUT AFTER SCHOOL;;;;;;;;;

His home country(?) is [Akatatsu no Kuni] (red dragon)

LILIA WASNT PLANNING TO GO BACK WITH MALLEUS IN THE VERY BEGINNING- *sobbing on floor*

He wants to live in peace and not being b-tched around :(

WE GOT MAL MAL'S GRANDMA NAME: QUEEN MALEFICIA

Silver and Sebek are so heartbroken;;;;;;;;

LILIA IS MOVING OUT WITHIN A WEEK???;;;;;;;;;

Lilia: I'm impatient bcuz I don't have much time! me: *chewing pillow*

Malleus: Are you sure you're not gonna change your mind? Lilia: Nope!..or rather, It has been decided a long time ago, no matter what..

"Fate can't be changed..."

oh man heeeeeee's maaaaad....

Lilia asked Sebek and Silver to help out packing up

Silver cleaning up one of Lilia's drawer be like; 'a test from 2 years ago......broken keyboard........expired coupon......hardened nail polish......candy boxes.....Is he really sure he can live like this? 😭'

..Ring on chain with rotten seeds(?) in candy box....

Silver: ".....Have I seen this ring before?....Aurora-colored jewels..."

Silver: .........so sleepy..... Lilia: Silver?

Silver: I found this box with the withered seeds(?)........can I throw it away- LIlia: NO!

Silver: So.. should I pack it? Lilia: No, I'll just take the bracelet (there's a bracelet in the box too??????),...and the ring can be given back to the rightful owner.. Lilia: To you, Silver. Silver: ??????

Lilia found baby Silver with the jewels on, and planned to give it back when he's grown up 🥺

Silver almost asks about his parents but then he just goes 'thank you'

Sebek found a.....magic tool?... Lilia's weapon when he was still a guard

Sebek notices that the metal part of the tool is made of [Mistium], an old metal thats no longer mined

...and Lilia used to use it also as an ordinary axe..rip Sebek...

MICKEY HUNTING BEGINS! First night: Ace&Duece!

Riddle only let them have away from dorm if they study, so he made study tests for them,even for Yuu&Grim💀

THERE'S EVEN FOR ORTHO, JACK, AND EPEL AHHAAHAHHAH-

Grim: If Yuu goes back to their original world....can I still stay in NRC?

Nooo sad time :"( gang is sad, then got back to midnight study session

Day 1 to meet Mickey - failed

Yuu can't sleep, but then sees light and a shadow outside

It's Tsunotaro......and not in a good mood..

IT'S SNOWING OUTSIDE

And Malleus seems really out of focus........snaps back his attention when Yuu appears, and stops the snowing

Malleus starts talking (read: trauma dumping) about how he got scolded(?) by Lilia for having the castle in ice bcuz of an argument he had with his grandma, and no one else dared to get close to him

OMG LONG HAIR LILIA WE WON WE WOOOOOOOON

Lilia made shredded ice with syrup from the ice and gave it to tiny Mal Mal???

Lilia: "You have a great power...don't waste it" Lilia: "Today who's here at this table could have died"

Malleus: You can say Lilia was always close to me.......but now.....he'll no longer scold me....

Malleus: so after my trauma dumping, what do we have here Yuu? :) Yuu: there might be a way to get home Malleus: ......................................so you're leaving too...

Yuu: I feel lonely about saying goodbye to everyone Malleus: ....if there was a way without losing anyone....would you wish for it?

Yuu says it's normal to be sad about goodbye, and goes back inside with a good night/goodbye..

Lilia: "You have a great power...don't waste it" Lilia: "Today who's here at this table could have died"

Malleus: ...Even with great power, I get nothing, I just lose... Malleus: ...they will leave me, leave the table eventually...

Malleus: ...those who invite me...are no more...

#i hate it here /lh #some not literally translations and some are attempts so yeah-#twst diasomnia chapter #twst chapter 7 #twst episode 7 #twst #twst summary #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #reaction #react #twst spoilers #spoiler #spoilers

22 notes · View notes

materialsscienceandengineering · 1 year

Photo

The Gold-Silver-Copper Ternary System

Phase Poll #6 concluded over a week ago, but I’ve been busy so you’re getting the write up post now! As stated in that post, I’ve already written up a post on colored gold alloys, so I won’t focus too much on the phase diagram in general, instead talking about the composition chosen - and you guys sure didn’t make it easy on me! The final result had copper as the clear favorite, coming in at 61%, with silver at 27% and gold at 12%, which puts us outside the realm of commercially manufactured jewelry.

Gold jewelry is often categorized by the karat system, in which the percentage of gold in a piece determines it's number (whereas the number of karats is the fraction of gold out of 24 parts). The highest purity gold is 24 karats (24/24), and the lowest the scale goes is 8 karats (8/24 or 33.3% gold), which is still far above our composition. (Some places only go as low as 9K or 10K, so 8K jewelry may be difficult to find in your region of the world.) So, there isn't any gold jewelry that contains so much copper and silver - it's not really gold anymore at that point. On the silver side, the case is much the same; sterling silver is an alloy of 92.5% silver and often 7.5% copper, but rare is the occasion where more than 50% copper is mixed with silver.

Looking at phases instead of resulting colors, the composition chosen falls into the immiscibility field of the ternary diagram (image 2 or source 1). High gold alloys form a solid solution of all three elements, but copper and silver are immiscible. Depending on the processing, therefore, these elements can be maintained as solid solutions if cooled quickly, or will result in a two-phase alloy at equilibrium, one phase of which is copper rich while the other is silver rich.

Mixing copper with gold can increase the hardness, and the same happens when mixing copper and silver together. However, copper and silver are both more reactive than gold, which is why this corner of the phase diagram isn't much used for jewelry - it corrodes too easily, compared to the alloys that contain more gold. This is also why adding gold or silver to copper (instead of copper to gold or silver) isn't nearly as common, given the cost of gold and silver offsets any advantageous property difference.

Still, stepping away from gold alloys and silver alloys, there are a few historic copper alloys that come close to our composition, so let's take a look at those and their uses. First, a few Japanese alloys, Shibuichi and Shakudō. Shibuichi is an alloy of copper and silver, literally meaning 'one-fourth', and is thus one part silver to three parts copper. Shakudō is an alloy of copper and gold, typically ranging from 90-96% copper. Both were used for decorative purposes, taking advantage of the color of the patina that could be formed on such alloys.

In another part of the world, pre-Columbian cultures in South and Central America often created religious objects of an alloy of gold and copper that the Spanish Conquistadors named tumbaga. Artifacts from this era vary widely in composition, with some having as much as 97% gold and others up to 97% copper. Because of the natural compositions of gold and copper ores, silver is often present as well. The third image above is a tumbaga artifact of mostly copper, and around 20% gold and 2% silver. Again, because of corrosion of copper (and silver), these artifacts are difficult to find in good condition - however, counter to that, metallurgists of the era used a technique called now called depletion gilding to create a layer of pure gold on the surfaces of these objects, protecting them from corrosion, at least for a time.

In modern times, alloys in this range are still not widely used. Copper and gold alloys have been investigated for nanotechnology systems, but, to my knowledge, this corner of the ternary system is often avoided.

Sources/Further reading: ( 1 ) ( 2 - image 2 ) ( 3 - image 3 ) ( 4 - image 4 ) ( 5 ) ( 6 ) ( 7 ) ( 8 )

More phase diagrams: ( image 1 ) ( wt% with T lines ) ( mole fraction, liquidus projection ) ( mole fraction, 800°C ) ( Ag - Au ) ( Ag - Cu ) ( Au - Cu )

#Materials Science #Science #Phase diagrams #Phases #Copper #Silver #Gold #Alloys #Jewelry #Science history #PhasePosts #MyMSEPost

12 notes · View notes