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ofstormsandfire · 2 months

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yharnam archaeology??? 👀👀👀

hi I forgot that the blog I was rbing that from was a blog I followed for bloodborne stuff LMAO

okay so. this is heavily inspired by

Me being an anthropology student (who got into it because Cynthia pokemon is an archaeologist and I adore her, I took one (1) class and then got really invested, the important thing is. Archaeology go brr)

Me taking a very interesting class this semester that focuses on paleopathology, which is as my professor put it "the study of ancient suffering" but realistically is figuring out whatever you can from human remains. Whereas archaeology as a whole is about human culture from material remains, which can be actual bodies but can also be other things like pottery and building foundations.

Me teetering on the brink of being way too into Bloodborne for my own good despite not normally being much of a horror fan or a fan of particularly grimdark things. I Don't Know What's Different About Bloodborne. (it's probably that I'm a lesbian and I like lady maria, sue me)

Anyway. I got to thinking one time after class. That archaeologists would be SO FUCKING CONFUSED BY YHARNAM.

I'm tentatively placing Bloodborne as somewhere in the nineteenth century based on general vibes (according to my dad and his deep passion for weaponry of all kinds, a lot of the things in the game would have been derived later, but tbh if I lived in a place that constantly had to deal with people turning into horrifying beasts I think I'd innovate the hell out of things to get better weaponry so I didn't die too) and this theoretical au would be set in the modern day. so it's been a Hot Minute since the game ended and I think I was considering Yharnam Sunrise as the ending for. Reasons.

There's this group of researchers who end up heading to Yharnam, bankrolled by some rich heir or something who's got more money than sense (he dies or possibly turns into a beast from stupidity very early on) and possibly they're the last in a bunch of groups who went there and died because even hundreds of years after the horrors there are still So Many Ways For It To Go Badly? Undecided on that front, I'm still trying to figure out what (if anything) would actually be preserved.

Highlights of my vague plans:

The team finds Gilbert's journal. They all get really attached to Gilbert because that just kind of tends to happen. Which is unfortunate because they know damn well he probably didn't survive very long after the last page in his diary, but they didn't find a body, so...?

It takes a while for them to realize that the very canine skeletons have human DNA. At which point everyone is just. Very fucking confused. And also are realizing that maybe all those writings about the beast plague weren't actually about rabies (which does not leave a trace on the skeleton, fun fact! I wanted to do my project on rabies but I had to pick a pathology that had an effect on the skeleton. Alas)

There are so many arguments over who that grave behind the Hunter's Workshop belongs to. SO MANY. (I personally think it's very likely that is Maria's, but the team won't have any way of knowing that! If the headstone is unreadable by game times it's not gonna be any more readable centuries later!)

You determine whether something is bone by licking it. Someone finds an Amygdala skull and somehow, through the sort of stupidity that only happens in horror movies before people realize they're in horror movies, someone gets dared to lick it. This results in a very horrified Insight increase and the revelation that the weird fucking thing is made of bone. Also, that Amygdala's ghost is interested in the team now. Oops. This probably will go fine, right...?

What the FUCK are they going to think of all the statues of Great Ones. Probably (reasonably) that they are statues portraying something with great cultural significance to Yharnam, and possibly religious significance. Less reasonable is the fact that Great Ones... actually exist... and that SOMEONE is going to get enough Insight by the end to see those Amygdalas. Possibly the whole team tbh.

There is going to be so much arguing over how the fuck to cite shit. How do you cite some guy who supposedly disappeared centuries ago and is still hanging around in another dimension that you honestly aren't sure how to leave But You'll Worry About That Later, The First Hunter Is A Primary Source!!! How do you cite a ghost. How do you cite hallucinations and visions.

Possibly the Doll sneaks onto the team by pretending to be a survivor of a previous expedition, because tbh I think the Moon Presence can do what it wants and I think it would be VERY interested in these new bitches rocking up to Yharnam after a while. And, y'know, that goes fine until someone finds a picture of her. Or of Lady Maria. (Or until they reach the Abandoned Old Workshop, depending on the situation and if there's another version of said doll there to be found.)

Every. Single. Member. Of the team. Has some connection to Yharnam. Almost none of them know this originally. They will find out. Rip to Rom the Vacuous Spider's great-great-grandniece who discovers the hard way (finding Byrgenwerth's paperwork) why she was the first in her family to graduate uni, just not the first to attend it.

(Notable exception to this rule is the person who is convinced that his great-great-great-probably a few more in there-grandmother is Lady Maria. This gets very funny when the descendant of the player Hunter trips into the Hunter's Nightmare, which still exists due to said player Hunter poking their head in and wisely dipping immediately, and who manages to prevent a bossfight by blurting out "oh shit you're Jerry's great-grandma!")

(There may be lesbianisms involved. And some light necromancy. Idk I like Lady Maria a lot and I got enabled too damn much and I think it would be very funny for the group to return to civilization with an extra person. Or two.)

In summary, I have no plot (yet) apart from archaeology and being way too invested in the game, but I really want to write this someday once I actually finish said game. And also I'm having a grand old time coming up with characters to put through the Horrors. The archaeologist is named Cynthia Parker and. Well. If you remember the superhero identity of a certain character called Peter Parker, you might be able to figure out who she's distantly related to.

Other ideas include: player Hunter descendant, someone very distantly descended from a Cainhurst exile, and Jerry who is 100% certain his great-several-times-great-grandmother is Lady Maria of the Astral Clocktower and is 100% wrong about that. Jerry is the single party member with no actual connection to Yharnam and we love him for it.

Thanks for the ask I'm incredibly flattered that you were intrigued enough to ask about this from my tags given that I followed you for your BB fics :>

#I swear I'll write this someday #bc it's hilarious #yharnam archaeology au #askbox #paranormal-potatoes #bloodborne #fanfic things #writing things

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youandmedead · 2 years

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suouɐɔpɐǝH uosunW ǝıppƎ

Warnings: Swearing, Eddie possibly being out of character, some slightly suggestive content.

Requested by: No one

Synopsis: Relationships Headcanons about this dork

Extras: Dude I fell so hard for this fucker 😂 I may do a part 2 to these headcanons but set during s4

𖤐 Loads of people get the wrong idea about Eddie.

𖤐 Yes he is loud, yes he is energetic and obnoxious but underneath that exterior he can actually be a pretty chill and caring dude.

𖤐 Whenever your days are turning dark, he’ll be there to brighten them up! He uses humour as a way to try and make you feel better but if that doesn’t work then he’ll cuddle you for however long you want and offer to watch some films or listen to some music.

𖤐 As mentioned, Eddie is really upbeat and extroverted but sometimes on rare occasions his personality can do a total 360 and this super confident and carefree person has turned into a vulnerable and remorse filled mess. This usually happens at night and it’s when he needs you most. What will he do if you aren’t staying with him, you ask? He’ll totally try and sneak into your house or throw rocks at your window so he can get your attention and then explain the situation.

𖤐 You are the only person who gets to see his vulnerable side.

𖤐 He is the type of partner who absolutely adores to mess around with your hands.

𖤐 When you guys are chilling out, or at any given time,his hands will always linger to yours and intertwine your fingers together and raise your hand so he can kiss it.

𖤐 Would 100% draw stuff like music notes and skulls on your hands and arms!

𖤐 He also loves to compare hand sizes.

𖤐 He does enjoy pda a lot but it has to be at the right time. But don't get me wrong he does love to show you off and see all of the confused and shocked expressions from the 'popular' folks, but sometimes you guys may only link pinkies or something like that to stay on the down low around certain people and so you both aren't constantly getting teased (*cough* Dustin *cough*).

𖤐 Now speaking of D&D Eddie will definitely try to coax you into joining the Hellfire Club if you aren't apart of it already. If you are already a part of Hellfire he is even more ecstatic to play!

𖤐 The way he carries out the game in such an upbeat manner and keeps everyone invested is honestly awesome! I wish I could play DnD with him Mike, Will, Dustin and Lucas

𖤐 Expect to be invited to his trailer quite often to listen to rock and metal music, watch cheesy horror films, play D&D etc

𖤐 Eddie talks so fucking much! Sometimes it can be annoying but it can also be very endearing. He's really opinionated and will get himself into trouble quite a lot because A) he will not shut up and B) he has many "unpopular opinions".

𖤐 Play fights are a very common thing between you, they're cause by the dumbest shit.

𖤐 I imagine that Eddie's love language would probably quality time and words of affirmation.

𖤐 He loves to tease you, so make sure you do not let this man know any of your weaknesses...he will use then against you.

𖤐 The both of you would go out for walks in the forest and mess around as if you were both 8 years old again.

𖤐 He'd definitely carve yours and his initials in a tree either when he's by himself or when you are present but not looking. (Definitely a softy for that type of stuff).

𖤐 Shits bound to be vandalised whenever and wherever you go out. Spray paint will literally cover every billboard in Hawkins.

𖤐 If you steal any of his shirts, he will honestly melt. He'll try and put the tough guy act on but will eventually cave and fail.

𖤐 The only t-shirt that I think you probs wouldn’t be able to get away with in is his hellfire one. This is purely because he wears it 24/7 and he may complain over the fact that you’ve got your own if your part of the club.

𖤐 The same thing can go for his jackets. He adores the way you look in them, but he probably won’t let you keep them for very long (he’s very attached to them).

𖤐 He loves to get high with you! The constant rambling that occurs between the both of you is not stop and honestly hilarious. Lots and lots of stupid conspiracy theories that make no sense whatsoever, joking on and doing stupid pisstakes of students and teachers you guys know...and I wouldn't be surprised if some freaky shit happened within that time frame either.

𖤐 Make-out sessions will also either always occur in his room, in his van, the forest or an empty classroom. To be honest I think that he wouldn't really care about the location, just as long as you are comfortable.

#stranger things #stranger things headcanons #eddie munson #eddie munson headcanons #stranger things eddie #eddie munson x gn reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x reader

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weavercobra · 8 months

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The Burden of Divinity

This story follows up events that happened in one of our games. And if you're familiar with Pathfinder lore, then it probably requires a bit of explaining about some of the changes in our settings.

So first off, Maya is a snake goddess we've invented for the setting. She's the mother of Ydersius.

Speaking of Ydersius, there's been some adjustments there for a number of reasons. Evil gods in Pathfinder(And other similar settings) often suffer from a problem I like to sum up as: "Who the fuck would worship this guy?" Setting aside any personal opinions, I can't think of any deity considered evil by their followers outside of some extreme edgelord cases. In fact, the idea of an evil religion worshipped by evil idea has more often been an attempt at discrediting others. So we've been going through the pantheons with a surgeon's kit and a saw to rejigger things.

And as for Ydersius being evil, well, hard to find any information on the fan wikis of what he's done that's so evil or which of his creeds that are so bad. Really, I guess he's evil because he's the patron deity of the sekmin, aka the serpentfolk.

So let's talk sekmin. They are evil. Their wiki pages contains sentences like : "it is unknown how many races the serpentfolk exterminated for pure pleasure.", "view all non-telepathic creatures as slaves or food," "They feel no love or attachment towards other serpentfolk, even their own mates or children." I mean wow, laying it on thick here aren't we?

Now, I'm not saying the sekmin empire wasn't problematic. Empires tend to be problematic. No doubt the sekmin, even removing their inherent evil alignment, would have a sordid history. But if they aren't inherently evil, well...

Here's a line from the wiki I find relevant. "The destruction of Azlant caused by Earthfall saved the remaining serpentfolk from complete elimination."

And if the serpentfolk aren't inherently evil, then you might have to call this what it actually is.

An attempt at genocide.

Which brings us to Azlant and Aroden. And I'll be honest, our read on both of those don't paint either as good guys. Azlant had Xin banished for daring to suggest they had anything to learn from non-humans and we have no reason to doubt it was an isolated case. The fact their descendants turned into space Nazis in Starfinder seem like a natural conclusion.

And Aroden, beloved hero of humanity. The list of things he's fucked up, both before and after divinity is quite long. There's the stuff he did in Arcadia with the Veins of Creation. Stole the aeon orbs from the xulgaths because humanity would use them better, condemning the land of Vask to death by radiation. And his patronage of humanity is probably why you can't throw a rock on Golarion without it landing in a human country. So our conclusion is simple.

Aroden was a racist, imperialist douchebag who favored humanity at the cost of all other sentient beings and the universe is better off without him. And Azlant was a empire morally no better than the one it sought to eradicate from existence. Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

If you managed to make your way through all that opinionated rambling, thank you and here's the story. Oh, and if you happen to notice any similarities to plot points from Paizo's Serpent's Skull campaign, then that's because I borrowed liberally from it to set up our own campaign in Saventh-Yhi.

Unconsciousness had been a mercifully numb experience. Her mind had just floated through the void, briefly unburdened by memory, by sorrow, by duty and by anger. For the first time in a long while, she was at peace, cut off from anything that could hurt her. But then reality slipped painfully into her mind, like a white-hot dagger between her ribs. Awareness of how her body ached bedevilled her, from the tip of her tail to the fork of her tongue, every muscle pulsating with an unpleasant aching. And as her pain dragged her mind kicking and screaming out of the numbing depths, thoughts started to flow in. And with them, the ceaseless memories. The memories of the invasion, seeing wounded after wounded be dragged in from the frontline, watching five of her countrymen bleed out in the time a healer could mend the wounds of one. She remembered offering words of encouragement to those going to and arriving from the battlefields, but towards the end, her sermons had sounded hollow and deceitful even to herself. And she remembered the fall, the devastation and the evacuation. Helping seal her fellow sekmin in stasis chambers, promising they would be safe, promising they wouldn't be found. All lies, of course. It was a desperate gambit and there was no certainty. She had half expected never to see the light of day again as the magic of the pod took hold, sealing her in dreamless preservation. She remembered her awakening alongside others of her kind, their confused staggering into a new, alien world, so different from the one she had left behind. She remembered the mission, to resurrect their empire now that their hated enemies had vanished from the surface of the planet. And how she had been sent out to gather information about their lost capital. It had been a harrowing journey. Everything had been so different and she had to apply all her skills and powers to pass herself off as a human scholar. She knew the future of her kind hinged on the success of her work. It had gone well, until the island. She had managed to get off the accursed rock, but her mission had depended on the kindness of a human. And they had let her go. She felt that was only the case because they didn't know the truth, but still, she had remembered it. And she had tried to warn the human's fellows, that only death would await them in the jungle and the lost city hidden therein. They had ignored her warnings. She had been anxious. And angry. For with them had travelled a being, a serpent, an avatar. An avatar of her. The one who had abandoned them in their hour of greatest need. And then they had finally met face to face. And Aethaxise had unleashed all her frustration, pain and feelings of betrayal in once venomous tirade aimed at the divine figure.

And Maya had smote her in response.

That was the second time she slipped in the dark expecting never to wake up. So the return of her consciousness was as surprising as it was unwelcome. Slowly, her eyes began registering the sunlight shining down on her. She hissed weakly and turned her head to avoid the direct glare of the overhead light. It took her a moment to ponder the oddity of the sunlight, before realising that the roof was missing. She groaned and tried to move, her body protesting the action. Her neck slowly bent, giving her a chance to observe what was left of her surroundings. Most of the walls and the roof had been blown clear out, even taking with it some of the adjacent outer masonry, exposing much of the inside of the structure to the outside. Her inner ear began registering the distant sounds of birds and bugs, alongside other noises of the jungle. She rolled over on her belly, splaying out her limbs to soak up the warm rays, feeling its heat sink into her body, slowly helping her wake up. Her tongue darted out of her mouth, catching nearby scents and delivering them into her mouth, letting her register them. She could smell that Krathus was nearby, though she was uncertain of his condition. Mingled with it was the smell of his companion Xantheithes. They were really close, by her estimate. She hoped they had survived. But mixed in was another scent. One she had only gotten familiar with very recently, but that none the less immediately filled her with rage. Her anger fuelled her strength, allowing her to plant the palms of her hands against the stone floor, pushing her upper body upwards, straining her neck to lift her head up and slowly turn it, while uttering a hoarse and exceedingly venomous: “You.”

The person she was speaking to looked like a giant cobra, her scales a pure, alabaster white, her eyes a vibrant purple save for the black slit in the middle. The pale serpent had been eyeing something in the distance, but upon hearing the utterance, had turned her attention to the speaker. Maya took a moment to note the sekmin's appearance, that of an emerald-scaled snake with arms and legs, before addressing her with: “So you're awake, little one. I trust that you will have learnt to behave, at least enough to have a civil conversation. Otherwise, I am more than capable of banishing you into unconsciousness again as many times as I need to make my point clear.”

Aethaxise responded with a growl, as she slowly rolled over on her back, trying to eye the other two in the demolished room.

She noted Krathus nearby. A sekmin like herself, though his scales were a combination of red and black. He was lying up against the only remaining wall in the room, one containing a detailed genealogy of the invading humans, which he had found amusingly interesting. Still protectively wrapped around him was the massive ophidian Xantheithes, a great white cobra. One that in many ways resembled Maya's current form. Not too surprising, as Xantheithes' species had been sacred to her faith, empowered over many generations by the divine waters of her temples. They were a clever species, with more than a few developing full-on sapience, Xantheithes being one of them.

Maya followed her gaze. “Your companions are both alive, little one, that I can assure you. Though painful, that attack could not have killed a fly, much less any of you.” She paused, her tongue flickering in and out. “And it seems they are waking up too.”

The prone form of Krathus stirred slightly. Reflexively, his tongue darted out of his mouth and his limbs twitched. He managed to roll the back of his head along the scales of his serpentine companion, giving him a chance to inspect the room. There was a moment of quiet, before he with a dry voice stated: “We're alive I see.”

“That you are,” the divine serpent confirmed. “And I have no intentions of killing you. All I want to do is talk.” Her voice took on a sharper edge, as she added: “However, as I informed your friend, I am more than willing to demonstrate what the wrath of a deity feels like if a polite conversation is too much to ask for.”

Krathus weakly held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I'll vastly prefer that we have a polite conversation.”

Aethaxise hissed angrily, but said nothing.

The red-and-black scaled sekmin leaned to the side to inspect his ophidian companion. With the inability to close his eyes, it would have been hard for a human to see whether Xantheithes was awake or not, but for one who shared many physical similarities like Krathus, it was easy enough to detect the tell-tale signs that the massive cobra was slowly beginning to register his surroundings. The entire length of the ophidian's body jerked slightly and with some effort, he managed to lift his massive head slightly. “You hurt?” he managed to croak, still dazed.

“No. The pain is merely superficial.” Krathus twitched slightly as he moved his tail. “But ever present. I suspect it shall pass very soon though.” He turned his gaze to observe the avatar. “So, you wanted a talk.” “In a moment, little one. My own companions will be with us shortly,” Maya said, looking to a nearby set of stairs going down. “I'll advice that you gather your strength in the meantime.”

“Oh, and what exactly would we be gathering our strength for?” Aethaxise pointedly inquired.

“Mostly sitting up. But if you prefer to lie on the floor as you do now, far be it from me to tell you to do otherwise, little one,” Maya replied. She turned away again. “And there he is.”

Yet another oversized white cobra slithered up the stairs. To one unfamiliar with dealing with serpents, he might have seemed identical to Xantheithes, but for everyone present, the exact pattern of his scales was different enough to mark him as a completely unique individual. As he slithered across the ground, the back of his hood became visible, upon which the colouration of his scales formed an insignia of a snake holding an arrow in its mouth, encircling a bow. He made his way over next to Maya and curled up in what among snakes passed for a sitting position. “I've checked up with everyone else in the building. Nothing serious for most of them. Though Random has taken some considerable damage, including massive cracks in her exoskeleton. It'll take some time to heal.”

“I gather she also managed to dish out some considerable damage,” Maya commented. “I was concerned Yaras might develop spheksophobia. But I digress. Good job, Lechaim.” She refocused on the others. “Now then, I guess saying you have a bone to pick with me would be an understatement.”

“You... You...” Aethexise managed with no small amount of venom, as she struggled to push herself off the ground. “You abandoned us. We were slaughtered by the hundreds and you were nowhere to be seen. Even when your own son died you... You weren't there. Am I supposed to be grateful because your priests ran around trying to fix things? AM I SUPPOSED...!” “AETHEXISE!” Krathus managed. “Calm... Calm down. I do not want to be blasted again and if I have to get Xantheithes to gag you, I will. I've already been punched by a deity once today, I do not care to repeat that experience.” The other sekmin growled, her claws scraping across the stone floor. Silence reigned for a while. “Where were you when we needed you?” she finally managed to ask, her voice barely a whisper.

Maya sighed. “Little one, I did everything I could. But if I had stepped in more than I had, what would the results be? You think their gods would have sat on the sideline? No. Had I stepped in, I would have ignited a divine war. It would have been a catastrophe.”

“Some would say it already was,” Xantheithes commented grumpily.

“True. It was grim,” Maya agreed. “The fact that things could be worse is, I understand, little comfort for all of you.”

“And what about your son?” Aethexise managed venomously, slowly getting up on her feet. “Even if all our suffering meant nothing, shouldn't his death have meant something?”

Krathus winced, almost prepared to eat another bolt of divine retribution from Maya.

Indeed, the ophidian avatar's tail swayed dangerously and her hood flared slightly at the provocation. But she took a deep breath and continued with: “Despite what you think, the harm done to my son has been a painful memory beyond description for all these passing aeons. It would be arrogant of me to claim that my pain was greater than what was felt by any of you, but it was there. And while I wanted nothing more than to bathe them all in poisonous vapours until their meat dripped from their bones, I am subject to responsibilities far beyond your reckoning. For one thing, we deities have an agreement among us that limits our ability to directly influence the mortal world. Even this avatar, which I created to circumvent that, is pushing against what is considered acceptable. Had I interfered more than I did, and I did everything I could, I would have started a divine war with the Azlanti pantheon, which would have benefited no one, not even you. And no, little one, I do not expect that to suddenly make the attempted genocide of your people seem less severe. I am merely trying to get you to understand the position I was in and to some degree, still am.” “But the Azlanti Empire fell,” Krathus stated inquisitionally. “According to the history books, they're gone. Not that I ever believed you owed us anything, but why not aid us in the aftermath? It cannot have passed you by that we barely managed to survive.”

“Again, it comes back to divine politics. Any attempt by me to help you would be opposed by... The Last Azlanti,” Maya managed grimly. “By the time there was a world worth coming back to, he was a deity. He did not dare move on you because I would visit retribution, but the same was also true the other way around. And even after he died, there was still limits to what I could do. In fact, I've searched for an opportunity such as this for a long time.” She paused. “I think Ydersius has given you the wrong impression of the burden of divinity. You were his creation, his children. He cared only for you and was with you through thick and thin. You might have come to expect similar levels of attention from the rest of us. But my concerns go far beyond you. If I had acted out of hand, even if I had shielded you with all my divine power from retribution, others might have suffered. For example, by targeting my followers among the skittermanders.” “The... What?” Xantheithes managed to ask, utterly perplexed.

“They're not even native to this solar system,” Lechaim replied. “Cute fellows. If silly.” Aethaxise just stared.

“I have followers across the entire universe,” Maya continued. “I must always consider how my actions will affect all of them. I am not saying this to diminish your suffering. Only to enlighten you to the burden I carry. My followers number more than you could count in a lifetime and every single action I take can have consequences for them. That is the true cost of divinity. And that was why I couldn't throw everything away to help you. That is why it has taken me so long to find a way to help at all. Didn't matter what I wanted to do, because I had the responsibility to care for all who worship me. And even for the world beyond my faith, for surely a divine war could have rend the planet in two and that is at the small end of the scale. You think you know what devastation looks like, little one? I have witnessed what happens when gods and titans make war, when entire clusters of stars are vaporised by stray shots and the very fabric of time and space buckles under the blows of warring combatants. I would not wish that on anyone. Not even the Azlanti.” She went quiet, her head lowering slightly. “But I am trying to make things better and that is why I am here. I truly just wish to help.”

Everyone was quiet for a while.

“Well... I guess... Maybe I understand,” Aethexise managed, her voice hollow and drained. “But we don't need your help.” Maya shook her head. “No, little one, you do. I know what you and yours are planning, and if it would work, I would be more than happy to stay out of your way. But you are about to make a grave mistake that could very well create the type of disaster I was trying to avoid.”

“So you know of the operation we've started then,” Krathus surmised running his claws along his lower jaw in a contemplative gesture. “Fascinating. And you're saying there is some sort of flaw in this plan then?” “Indeed. But before we get to that, I know someone you ought to meet.” Maya returned her attention to Lechaim. “Is she ready?” “She is,” the other white cobra confirmed.

“Alright then.” She turned towards the stairs. “You can make your entrance now.”

Silence reigned in the ruined room, as the sounds of someone ascending the stairs was heard. A figure made their way into the light of the distantly setting sun, a human woman. Her head was framed by short-cropped brown hair, her body clad in dull coppery plates of metal that looked like they had seen their fair share of wear and tear. A torn leathery cloak enveloped her and a massive sword was sheathed on her back. Bandages were wrapped tightly around the left part of her head, obscuring one of her eyes, and her left arm hung limply in a sling.

The patient quiet in the ruined room immediately changed character, taking on a grim and cold mood.

Krathus tried to jump up with a hiss, only stopped by Xantheithes protectively curling around him, the serpent's hood flaring open.

Aethexise was not so hindered. Instead, motivated by a burst of adrenaline and unyielding rage, she leapt from the floor and galloped forward, claws outstretched and fangs unfolding in her mouth, deadly venom dripping from their tips. She leapt, ready to tear the woman's face off, only to find herself caught in mid-air by Maya's tail, which quickly wrapped around the struggling sekmin. “Let me go,” the green-scaled cleric hissed furiously. “Why is she here? WHY IS SHE HERE!? WHY ARE YOU NOT DEAD!?”

“Well, that went about as well as expected,” Lechaim muttered.

The woman, for her part, stood unfazed, though with a forlorn expression.

“I must concur,” Krathus hissed, finally untangling himself from his aide. “Don't tell me you brought her of all people back.” “Oh no, little one, this came as quite the surprise to me too,” Maya said, shifting her tail to maintain her grip on the furiously screaming Aethexise. “But I brought her here because she has something important to say.”

“So, what, we hear her out and then kill her?” Xantheithes venomously commented, bundling up behind the red-and-black scaled sekmin.

“If that would fix anything, I'd tell you to go ahead,” the woman said. “But as it is, I suspect it would make things much worse.”

“Indeed. So, are you willing to hear her out?” Maya inquired.

Krathus eyed his fellow sekmin. Aethaxise was now little more than a pair of serpentine eyes glaring murderously from atop the rim of the avatar's pale coils. “We're not getting much choice here, are we?” “No.” “So be it.” The sekmin wizard sat back down, leaning against the piled body of Xantheithes. “This is not a case of mistaken identity, right? You are Savith, the very same one who lead the campaign against our people. The one who murdered our deity.” “Guilty as charged,” she said in a tone of voice indicating that she indeed thought it something to be guilty of. “As for how I survived, I'd say barely. After my fight with Ydersius, the divine backlash left me on the brink of death. Your people found me before my fellow Azlanti did. Dragged me away from the site of battle and stuffed me in one of your stasis pods. I figure it was to interrogate me later. Or punish me. Probably both. Either way, they never came back for me. And I was never found by my comrades.” She went quiet, as she began to pace. “Once I was freed from the pod by happen-stance I began wandering this new world. That's how I ran into the Mystical Peacekeeping Society and through them, Maya.” She paused again, looking contemplative. “Well, first of all, I feel I owe you an explanation for what happened. From your perspective, our campaign must have seemed quite unfounded.” “What? No apology?” Xantheithes sourly inquired.

“Could any apology I could come up with ever truly suffice?” Savith asked. “I am sorry, but I can't imagine that means much to you.”

The serpent didn't respond, instead just lowering his head as he kept observing her.

“So as I was saying, Azlanti seers predicted that enemies of our people were gathering to unleash a devastating weapon upon us. Our leaders determined that those enemies had to be your people. I was asked to lead the campaign. And I did. Because I was convinced I was protecting my people from a grave threat by doing so.” She shook her head. “I've had many centuries now to contemplate how foolish that was. Me and my squad were, well, for us the goal was strictly military. To take out any part of your empire that could be used against us. But for most of my fellow Azlanti, that translated into making sure none of you were left alive. And I claim no innocence here, because I paved the way for those that burnt your cities and butchered your people. And I let it happen, because ultimately, I valued Azlant more than anything else. That's as bad as if I had done those deeds myself. And to make things even worse, turns out the whole campaign was founded on animosity. Our leaders had picked you as the target, not because there was any actual evidence of you preparing to attack us, but because our nations had had... Issues getting along.”

Maya heard a murmuring from her coils. She shifted them slightly, allowing Aethexise to get her entire head out. “It was the aboleths, yes? I've read all about it,” she hissed venomously. “They uplifted you and then decided to cast you down again.”

“Can't say I blame them,” Savith admitted. “But yes, that was the case.”

“So why are you here?” Krathus pointedly asked. “Think you can somehow make up for your actions?” “No. I can't imagine what I would have to do to accomplish that,” the Azlanti general replied. “I could do good deeds from now until the end of time and I don't think it would make up for the blood I have on my hands. But that is not going to stop me from doing the right thing. And the right thing to do is helping you people not unleash a disaster upon yourself.” “Really? The Azlanti general wouldn't want to see the sekmin self-destruct,” Aethaxise commented. “Why do I find that hard to believe? Even if what you said is true, which I doubt.” “As I said, I've had a lot of time to think.”

“What do you mean by that?” Xantheithes inquired.

“The stasis pod was flawed. It stilled my body, but not my mind. I've had the passing of many centuries to think and I've come to realise that, as different as we are, a lot of the things I looked down upon the Sekmin Empire for were the same sins that the Azlanti committed,” Savith explained. “Azlant is never coming back. And that's for the best. But your kind has a chance and your current plan risks snuffing that out.” “Enough with the vagueness,” Krathus demanded. “What is it you claim to know?”

Savith sighed. “Alright. Sorry. You're planning to resurrect Ydersius by reconnecting his skull with his body, which you lot managed to preserve in one of your hidden vaults. But it's not going to work. At least, not in the way you think it will. The thing is, you have his body and you might find his head, but what you don't realise is that a piece is still missing. His soul. The Ydersius you'd resurrect would be a divine being without thought, without memory, a soulless wild husk. Barely a wild beast, but with the power of a god. Such a being could wreck a horrendous amount of havoc.” “That's nonsense,” Aethexise hissed. “His soul is still among us. My connection may have faded, but I can still call upon his power.” “As could Tovkuc and he was a recent initiate,” Krathus added.

“The charau-ka?” Maya added, her hood vibrating slightly. “Yes, you sure taught him well. Between the attempted human sacrifices and generally unpleasant demeanour.”

Aethexise harrumphed indignantly.

“To get back to the subject,” the human added, trying to disarm the brewing conflict. “You are right, but his soul did not lock itself away in his skull or his body. It instead fled into a nearby vessel, one that was not dying. It...” She paused and sighed. She grabbed the bandages around her head and began unwrapping them. As the bandages gave way, stunned silence filled the ruined room. Underneath, her hairline had receded and much of her skin had changed into brown scales, her left eye a softy glowing orange orb, the pupil slightly misshapen. Taking the opportunity to continue, she unwrapped her arm, revealing more scales and that her nails had twisted into semi-sharp claws. “The nearest vessel,” she stated with finality. “Was me.”

Krathus looked like he was trying to say something, but he only succeeded in moving his jaws.

Maya looked to Aethaxise and slowly let the stunned sekmin loose. The green-scaled cleric slowly stumbled over towards the human, seeing in her alterations fragments of her deity. Carefully, almost as if she was afraid to break a pleasant dream, she reached out and laid a hand on Savith's scaled arm. Immediately, she retracted the appendage, as if she had gotten an electric shock. She stared, first at Savith, then her hand.

“Well?” Xantheithes asked. “You have the closest connection to him. Is it true?” “I... Yes. I could sense him,” Aethaxise said slowly, utterly befuddled. “But... How?” “As I said, I was closest. I am not chosen or favoured by Ydersius if that's what you're worrying about,” Savith said. “It's sheer coincidence. But we've had the passing of millennia to get to know each other. And Ydersius would very much like you to not resurrect his body without his soul present. So I need you to contact your fellows and tell them the news.” “Well, that is amazing,” Krathus said. “Ehm, slight problem. We can't.” “You can't? Of course you can't, that would be way too easy,” Lechaim sighed. “So what is it?”

“We have no way of contacting our leader in the depths of Ilmurea,” the red-and-black scaled wizard explained. “We were to set up an outpost and gather local resources and subjects in order to dissuade intruders into Ilmurea. But for safety's sake, we have no way to contact them, to minimize risks of them being tracked if, say, we were to be killed.” “And even if we were to get into contact with them, what do you think they'll believe? Your ridiculously improbably story, or that you're there to finish the job and has managed to brainwash us?” Aethexise asked. “Or, what, you gonna let every single priest we've got feel you up to confirm our Lord of Coiling Poison's presence?”

“I would have preferred that over having to storm your sacred sanctuary. Again,” Savith sighed exasperated. “Sicva must be blessing my journey, because you're making it sound like I'll have to storm in there and jam Ydersius' soul back into him myself and that every single one of your people will throw themselves at me to stop me. Again.” “That is an accurate summary of this stupidity,” Xantheithes commented. “Of course, you're also forgetting that you have no way to actually getting to Ilmurea. And even if you got there, you alone would not be enough.” “That is true, little one,” Maya agreed. “However, I am sure we can gather allies to help us, with a little luck. And as for a way down, we'll just have to keep an eye out for opportunities.” “Great. Seems like it's gonna be war all over again,” Savith noted in a tired voice, as she sat down on a piece of the wall. “I came here to help, not to fight you.” “Sadly, you Azlanti managed to impart on us the importance of not trusting humans,” Aethexise noted. “So, what now?”

“We need a plan. First, we must canvas the city. No doubt the Azlanti made many changes during their occupation,” Krathus noted, looking back to the wall with the genealogy.

“You do that, little ones. For now, I have someone else I'll need to talk with,” Maya said, as she moved towards the stairs, Lechaim following her. “I trust that I can leave you be without you all attempting to kill each other.” Aethaxise emitted an annoyed low hiss, as the two serpents slithered downstairs.

The avatar and her companion made their way through the repurposed ruin, finding in the middle of it a massive structure like an oversized wasp-hive. Maya observed it for a moment, turning to her companion and asking: “She's in there?” “I presume as much. I tended to her wounds out here, but I wasn't going to shove her into the hive,” Lechaim replied.

“I see.” The divine cobra turned back to the hive. She noted a faint buzzing sound. “You can come out, little one. I merely wish to talk.”

From the dark depths of the hive, several crimson hexagons lit up, outlining two massive compound eyes. “Forgive me if I don't feel in the mood to entertain any more intruders.”

“My apologies. But I had little other way of talking with you,” Maya noted. “I gathered from the others you put up quite the fight. I saw the wounds you inflicted. You're skilled. And I respect skill. To keep things short and sweet, I wish to for us to cooperate.” “Cooperate?” came the doubtful, thrumming reply. “You invade my home, strike down my children and now you want to cooperate?” “Well, you made a deal with the sekmin. Surely you understand the benefit of working together?” Maya explained. “And your children are alive, if dazed. I dare say we did our best not to cause them undue harm. But I get you. You want something more from me. And I'm willing to provide. After all, this ruin must impose certain... Limits. What if I offered to help secure you a better nesting ground?”

There was a pause, followed by a clacking sound as a massive wasp crawled out of the hive, her cracked exoskeleton wrapped in gauze. “You have my attention.” “The Mystical Peacekeeping Society, the ones who I'm helping and whom you fought, could use the assistance of a powerful predator like you. And they in turn possess a lot of territory, a lot of which is unsettled and which I can guarantee you they'd be willing to hand over to you in exchange for assistance,” Maya explained. “How does that sound, Random?”

The mutated wasp queen named Random paused as she mulled it over, her wings twitching occasionally. “I can see little reason why you'd lie,” she admitted. “You'd all just have killed me when you had the chance if this was to get me out of the ruin. And I admit, it is getting kinda cramped. I could do with a bigger nest for me and my brood.” “Sounds like a yes to me,” Lechaim commented.

“Yeah. But if I find out you lied to me, the last thing you'll see before I puncture your eyes will be my stinger,” Random asserted. “So, when do we start?” “When can you start?” Maya asked.

“In a while. Some of my brood has been out hunting and I'd like to do a full head count before going anywhere.” “Good,” Maya noted, coiling up slightly. “Should give us time to go over some of the finer details.”

#story #pathfinder #tabletop #serpentfolk #deity

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that-gay-jedi · 1 year

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from an american—homecoming IS a weird concept, especially since high school homecoming and college homecoming are two different things. the high school one should not be called homecoming

I googled college homecoming because of this ask and you're right they're totally unrelated and I'm boggled. But also I just don't understand why the first sportsball game played at home for each school each year like has a name and a bunch of extra ceremony attached to it like ok school spirit is a thing (I guess...) but kinda doesn't seem like America is normal about it and idk never quite felt like U.S. schools were normal about sportsball either.

I mean absolutely no disrespect to sportsball or to the homecoming queen etc and take this with a grain of salt bc there's also the fact that like 1) normal things often seem outlandish to me as one of the subtle but frequent types of derealization I experience. For example during a triggered moment I might fully understand what a parking lot is but the idea of a parking lot suddenly seems alien to me and the fact that parking lots actually exist feels like something that would only happen in a culture I emigrated to and not one familiar enough to have grown up in. I definitely did grow up in a culture where parking lots are ordinary, mundane, ubiquitous, and most definitely exist, but they're suddenly unfamiliar to me, I no longer recognize the norm as normal.

and 2) I'm some kind of bio-socio-political weirdo in that I think kids should be communally raised and having school as an artificial separation between learning and living and the alienation adults experience from life/meaning and labour is deeply unnatural and unsettling to human brains on an instinctual level for the same reasons that I believe a relatively bare night sky isn't just less pretty than the full stars in absence of light pollution but is actually a chronic stressor detrimental to human health low key sending your brain constant signals it interpets as something vaguely being off/wrong/uncanny but the brain can't quite place why (because like, the human brain saw the full stars every night for a quardillion trillion gazillion years and the century or so since light pollution became a thing is probably less than a millisecond by comparison but if YOU as an individual grew up with the light polluted version you consciously think it's normal even though your animal brain is screaming and shitting its bed in your skull)

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shadowedvales-a · 9 months

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TELL ME WHAT YOU'RE THINKING. › @emptyheir

Poor Eleven fell right down the rabbit hole and banged her head. Banged it so deep, in fact, that a crystal cut view of what she used to accept as common became exceedingly warped. Her soul got bumped around along the way. Lucky for her, the climb back up introduced someone prepped to put shattered pieces back together, placing her on a self-made path of cathartic experience. Brittle bones never knew loves warmth prior to him, would never again appreciate it after him. Once suspicious of his intent for she hadn't a reason to love herself— not her body nor mind. Having rejected gentleness so long, he stood an unreadable, welcomed change with his startling eyes she often found bewitching. The way he played with her slowly growing her hair, his protective grips on her shoulders which purposely stayed longer than necessary because he understood she required the touch. It's why telling own memories is so challenging— she couldn’t survive if his unfaltering perception dwindled, if simple but special acts of affection stopped.

Elle wanted to speak to him, but doesn't fathom the language of boy's with bats; boy's who are nice and clean the muck off your face. She spoke in tongues of monsters and sharp lights. She desired nothing more than to hand him her little heart and ask him to protect it [he's done it since meeting], instead the prospect rattles her with guilt. She knew so much about him, sharing personal stories provided a trusting bond, yet there were none to supply from her end. Was it a selfish thing, or was she unsure how to explain the thread of life before knowing him? 'I think... I should not be here,' escaped her lips in an almost random spurt, like it'd been trying to claw out of her lungs forever. Teeth quickly clamped shut, she shook her head and muttered don’t worry. It was late. They'd had a big day. He probably didn't want to hear this. He offered an encouraging word to say how she felt, an arced spine to produce attention despite sleep clearly tugging at him. In her hands she toyed with the cap he gave her after first introductions, the one that protected a then fragile skull under an unforgiving sun; unnecessary now but the article continued to possess upmost importance. More so than when it was originally gifted.

Mouth opened and closed three times, then settled. She stared wordlessly, his open trance on her twisted the knife in her gut, an inevitable pang of old wounds. " I... " Throat-tight swallow, unable to be looked upon lest she burst with the idea of Steve thinking she cared for him any less than she did. He who named her, who brought dimension... oftentimes emotions are just unexplainable, no rhyme or reason attached. " I don't belong. Not here. " Frustration threatened to scorch the quiet air. The words sounded near perfect in her brain [I love you, I love Dustin; only there isn't a proper place for me anywhere. I left my mother a strange baby and I grow even odder; I believe I'll never be granted normality,] they simply failed to land aloud. " I am lost. And… I don't know how to feel found. " Elle shrugged, sight shifted downwards like looking at him provoked shame; cheeks tinged crimson, wishing divulgence stayed hidden away. " Sometimes I feel too different. And you will leave because of it. " Eventually he will, she's sure of it. In her dreams she poses as some kind of distorted death— worked so hard to function like a child but she remained feeling especially strayed.

#⅋. [ ✦ ] ﹕ forever eternally: jane doe ‚ general apocalypse verse .#emptyheir.#this meme is so old it was legit back when we were first creating our apoc verse together.#and we were talking about them being up late one night and him encouraging her to talk to him about her past. and how she feels.#i just found it and got random muse ig!#from ghost family to apoc verses... we are so Diverse.#YOU DONT NEED TO RESPOND TO THIS i just wanted to reply.#he just got hit with some real truths sorry steve <3

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archipithecus · 2 years

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so you know about extinct creatures? tell us about extinct creatures etc. what's your favorite one? or group?

hi max. i'm not good at picking favorites, but i will tell you about some extinct creatures i like and know about.

pterosaurs are very cool, basically the closest earth has gotten to dragons. it feels like at least half, maybe more of the pterosaurs named in the last couple decades have been [something]-draco, which i don't blame the paleontologists at all for. i think everyone loves the idea of giant flying reptiles. i do very much love the tall azhdarchids, in fact for one of the projects in my most artsy humanities class in high school i made an azhdarchid costume, with stilts and long crutches and a bamboo pole attached to a backpacking frame with a 6 foot paper-mâché azhdarchid skull. like bats, pterosaurs frustratingly appeared in the fossil record basically fully formed, with no clear links between them and the small weird archosaurs we've identified as their closest relatives.

the fossils i've had the most field experience with are brachiopods and horn corals. brachiopods have bivalved shells like clams et al., but they're completely unrelated. bivalve molluscs have left and right shells which are (generally) mirrored across the plane that separates the two halves, but brachiopods have a top and bottom shell, where the symmetry is more like our mouths. brachiopods are weird sessile filter feeders like half of the creatures in the ocean, and there's barely any animal inside of the shells, they're kinda minimalist that way. horn corals are also called rugose corals, they left horn shaped... cups? with radially symmetric blades inside that the animal would have attached to. they went extinct at the end of the permian, which is very sad because i would love to see one. they probably would have looked something like an anemone inside of a curved cup resting on the sea floor, either alone or in colonies. they could get big, this summer i saw some nearly as long as my forearm. also brachiopods are still around, but their numbers are nothing like they were back in the paleozoic.

ummm dinosaurs are cool. you should look up Amargasaurus, that's a funky sauropod.

paleozoic synapsids are weird, and i should learn more about them.

i think hadrosaurs can get overlooked, because they're not scary meat eaters and they don't have crazy frills or spikes, but they're still cool. many of them had wacky head crests which probably had acoustic properties, and i love a good sound. also some of them got way bigger than i expect, i'll see some size charts and be like "wow, i forgot they were that big". they're not mega sauropod big, but still bigger than any land mammal today (or maybe ever?)

i've done some stuff with shark teeth, and lemme tell ya, fossil shark taxonomy is frustrating, because in nearly all cases it's just looking at the teeth. sharks are tooth making machines, teeth are great at fossilizing because they're so hard, and the rest of the shark is so soft so shark body fossils are really rare. this means that something like megalodon has been placed in dozens of genera, although by now the consensus seems to place in Otodus, with other "mega toothed" sharks. there's some funky stuff about chrono species, tracking tooth morphology changes through time, i trust it but i don't fully get it.

those are some facts i know about extinct creatures, i hope you have enjoyed them

#paleo

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lepusrufus · 3 years

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To bargain for immortality pt.2

Finally, she felt well enough to leave the infirmary room for good. Her internal organs were at peace for the most part and she could keep some food down without the risk of seeing it for a second time. Her sinuses still seemed to refuse to recover though. Occasional nosebleeds would have her head spinning and the scent of blood so often present within the castle was somehow too offensive to her senses. Nicole couldn't help but wonder how exactly she got it this screwed up, but then again the first few days of the infection were a painful blur that she'd rather not remember.

For now she was content to sit in front of the fireplace with the rest of her family. They decided to have a movie night to break her out of the mopey state she had been in and, for the most part, it was quite the success. She wasn't paying much attention to the projector screen, some sappy scene from a movie chosen by Daniela playing at the moment. Instead, she was simply enjoying the close proximity to Cassandra that she so dearly missed in the last few weeks. Nicole was in the brunette's lap, with hands loosely around her waist and leaning against her shoulder. She was vaguely aware of Laura complaining about the poor life choices of one of the characters only to be unceremoniously shushed by the youngest sister. It made her chuckle.

Bela was passing the popcorn to her mothers when a knock on the main entrance reached their ears faintly. Lady Dimitrescu narrowed her eyes in the general direction of the sound, and listened. Soon enough the rapid steps of Alexandria, their Steward, reached them.

"My Ladies, Mother Miranda's assistant is here."

The whole family got up hesitantly and tried to look as presentable as possible, given their "lazy day outfits". For some like Bela that was a baggy shirt and shorts, while for the Lady it was one of her trademark white dresses. They made their way to the main entrance of the castle, where the assistant, a woman in her late thirties and the air of an annoyed teacher, was waiting. It was Alcina the one to ask why she was there.

"Mother Miranda wants to see um… Nicole was it? Yes, to take a look at the regenerative abilities."

"Why not do it here like last time?"

"Mother Miranda's laboratory is far better equipped for whatever she may want to test. Unless you have something to say against her wishes." She finished that with a raised eyebrow that would've gained her a talon through the skull were she not there as per Miranda's wishes.

Who's talons exactly was debatable.

"I'll come too," Cassandra spoke up from just behind Nicole.

That only got her a dismissive wave. "No, I was told specifically to only bring her. Come now, we don't want to make Mother Miranda wait."

With that, the woman turned around and started walking towards a carriage that would take them away. Nicole looked briefly at her family. They all had either confusion or mild concern in their eyes. All but Alcina who looked as if she'd like to protest and snap at the woman but was holding her tongue.

She reassured Cassandra that she'd be fine and started jogging after the assistant.

---

Needless to say, that was Nicole's first time stepping foot inside the underground network of tunnels. Not that she complained. Few people went there willingly and probably fewer left the same way they came in.

The ancient looking hallways were in such stark contrast with the occasional medical equipment and the pristine looking labs with doors left slightly ajar that Nicole had to wonder if the woman had no taste for a consistent aesthetic. At least Lady Dimitrescu kept all wiring and modern devices carefully hidden or blended in with the castle's decor. Here, the harsh neon lights illuminated worn out stone so dark it was almost black. Not to mention the smell of… old that seemed to ooze off the very walls she was walking by.

She was led inside a spacious lab, the bluish lights above being too bothersome for someone who got used to the warm or natural light in the castle. The room was rather long, numerous hospital beds lined up against a wall, some separated by white curtains and some left visible. An almost imperceptible whiff of an all too familiar foul odor reached her nose, but it was mild enough to be easily ignored. Nicole had a suspicion that the unmoving person laying in one of the cots further away could be the source, but she sighed and hoped not to join them by the end of the day.

Mother Miranda was sat at a desk, microscope in front of her together with a small stack of documents and a laptop. She was typing in what could probably be notes on whatever she was looking at, when icy grey eyes finally shifted to Nicole.

"Get changed and lay down," she ordered, not even moving from her spot.

The assistant that had brought her here, pushed a hospital gown that had been pulled out from a cupboard in her arms. At least she was allowed the decency of changing into a bathroom as opposed to stripping then and there in the middle of the room. The gown was surprisingly comfortable, fabric folding around her body and being held closed by a loose ribbon that she tried at the side.

Once she was back in the lab, she was ushered to one of the beds where she laid down, nervously waiting for whatever Miranda had in mind.

It was quite odd to see her without her usual attire, especially without the gold talons that Nicole was now far more familiar with than she'd ever hoped. The white lab coat looked far too normal on her and, were it not for the unmistakable cold eyes and regal posture, the woman would’ve been unrecognizable.

She finally got up, a few documents in hand, and approached her. The papers were handed over to the assistant, along with a few other objects and finally, Nicole had her full attention.

Mother Miranda bent down, scalpel in hand, and grabbed one of Nicole's wrists. Just like she did back during the first examination, the blade was dragged across the length of her forearm. Despite fully expecting it, Nicole couldn't help flinching at the pain, but she kept her eyes fixated on her arm, at the blood slowly starting to flow from the wound.

Soon the same tingling as before took over the pain and before their eyes, the skin started to stitch itself back together.

"Time," Miranda asked while wiping the blood to allow for a closer inspection of the now good as new skin.

"Five seconds."

"Alcina's?"

"Three seconds."

Miranda hummed, seemingly pleased with the results. Or at least as pleased as the woman was physically capable of being.

"Hook her up to the cardiac monitor," she further instructed while moving to retrieve something from another cabinet.

The assistant, Emma, if the tag pinned to her lab coat was to be believed, stuck a series of electrodes to her chest and abdomen. Nicole bit her lip to stifle a yelp when one came uncomfortably close to the still sensitive skin of the scar.

In no time, the machine came to life, familiar beeping sounding through the otherwise silent room.

"I hope you're not afraid of needles," Miranda said while grabbing the same arm she had before, lips pulled into a faint smirk.

Nicole only shook her head as she saw the needle of a syringe attached to a transparent slim tube slide into her arm. How ironic would that be. The sting was close to imperceptible, taken over by the now familiar faint tingle. Unlike with the cut, it didn't fade away, most likely due to not being able to fully heal the small wound with the needle embedded in the skin and vein.

She looked away, in the direction of the other occupied bed in the room. It was far away enough that she couldn't make out any detail, only messy brown hair sprawled on a pillow. The face was turned towards the wall and body covered up to the neck. She grimaced and decided instead to focus on the beeping machine, mildly annoyed by Miranda's lack of properly separating her dead lab rats from the living ones. At least she hoped she'd stay living.

The numbers on the machine started out normal. With the slight uncomfortable feeling of blood being drained however, her heart rate started to slowly increase.

Alright. Normal enough. Especially when someone is clearly in a fucking blood draining mood.

Nicole decided not to look at exactly how much blood Miranda was drawing, keeping her eyes glued to the various color coded numbers. The heart rate kept increasing until Nicole could swear she could feel her heartbeat ringing in her ears. She gulped. Still relatively within the norm.

Two things were at odds however. First, the blood pressure remained constant, almost as if her body simply refused to acknowledge the fact that it was currently being drained. Secondly, the temperature rose from the normal 36 degrees to a staggering 41 in less time than it should have.

"What the fuck…" She couldn't keep her tongue at the weirdness of her situation, her brain thankfully choosing confusion and curiosity over the dread that it probably should've felt instead.

Mother Miranda didn't seem to care though as she turned to type something on the laptop that she brought over from the desk. She tapped her finger on the device for a few seconds and finally spoke up.

"The accelerated healing means the blood is being regenerated constantly, thus not decreasing in volume. Which explains the constant pressure." She narrowed her eyes at the monitor once again. "It doesn't, however, explain the heart rate and temperature. Any bright guesses?"

It took Nicole a second to realize the question was actually addressed to her. Miranda seemed in an oddly good mood. Not any less hell bent on causing her pain, mind you, but she also seemed genuinely curious. Being a biology nerd will do that to you, she couldn't help but think.

Nicole hummed and thought for a second. She tried to recall any information about the topic at hand that she had studied prior to running away.

"Heart rate could just be the normal body response that stayed even with the mutation. Like… like a reflex. It remains even though it's not needed." Then she tapped a finger on her chin trying to find a less random explanation. "Or maybe it's the body's way of making sure that even while healing all body parts remain at least decently functional. No idea about the temperature though," she shrugged.

Miranda once again typed something up and then, without warning, pulled the needle out of Nicole's arm. She flinched, barely holding in an angry protest as she turned towards the woman. Which was a mistake. She couldn't help the gag that raised in the back of her throat at the sight of the metal container full of blood.

No, no, blood did not bother her. That would've cut her career as a medical examiner short before she even stepped foot in med school. It was the knowledge that that was her blood that made her stomach churn. The container could easily fit three liters of liquid in it, and it was full to the brim. Not to mention the smell that assaulted her still messed up sinuses mixing oh so perfectly with mr. corpse over in the corner.

Miranda just chuckled at her sour expression. "Do you think your darling wife would like to have this?"

With a sneer, masked by Nicole turning once again towards the monitor, she couldn't help slipping an edge of snark in her reply. "No need, she likes it fresh."

The numbers were back to normal, all but for the temperature that was taking slightly longer to go down.

---

By this point her vocal cords were raw from screaming and each shuddering sob felt like clumps of spines in her throat. Nicole was curled in on herself, small frame trembling pathetically on top of the uncomfortable bed. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably, the tingling sensation feeling like needles constantly pricking at her skin around and under the wired leather cuffs wrapped around her wrists. The frantic beeping of the machine was grating to her ears.

An electric shock test.

Of course.

Mother Miranda decided to test out how the increased heart rate worked. Results? Her body vehemently refused to allow her to pass out. Even when the shocks traveled through every part of her body, causing the nervous system to short circuit. Even when damage to internal organs and muscles ripped painful sobs from her throat, that turned into gags as soon as the tingling turned to nausea. Even when she could feel her heart hammering against her ribcage so fast that she was sure the small organ would burst any second. But it didn’t.

Every muscle in her body flared up in a sensation of painful pins and needles when Miranda pushed the button to release another shock. The cardiac monitor started screaming again and Nicole brought shaky hands over her ears in an attempt to block out the sound. Her whole body was on fire while all the damaged tissue repaired itself, making her stomach turn painfully. She felt like throwing up. Not that she had eaten anything today, but bile and thick blood still coated her esophagus. It was all swallowed back with a disgusting gulp.

The nausea was oh so kindly accompanied by searing pain from her still damaged sinuses, who’s condition only worsened exponentially with the electricity. The blood that seemed to coat all the way up to the inside of her mouth felt horrible mixed with the putrid smell of death.

She swallowed again, but that proved itself a bad decision as now that same smell permeated the very inside of her nose and mouth and throat and the feeling of blood sloshing on her tongue behind clenched teeth made her head spin.

She lurched forward, a small river of dark blood flowing from her mouth and nose, into her palms that she instinctively brought to her mouth. Wet coughs made it splatter into crimson splotches on the white sheets, herself and anything else within proximity. It took surprisingly long to realize that, after the initial wave that rose up her esophagus, the rest of the blood was from her sinuses. It was cruelly invading her nose and sliding back into her throat only to come out of her mouth. Fuck fuck fuck-

“What’s wrong?” Miranda’s tone lacked any trace of sympathy.

Nicole simply coughed out the remaining fluid from her mouth and unceremoniously grabbed a piece of cloth from Emma’s hands. She pressed it to her nose, only to feel it soaked against her skin far too soon.

“Damaged sinuses, as you said,” she croaked, her voice sounding so unlike her own.

That made Miranda frown. She kept that same expression while noting down the previous results. “It should be healed by now.”

“Well they aren't,” Nicole spat. The blood and the horrid smell were clouding her mind and, as many knew, pain and holding her tongue did not mix well in her. “And did we really have to do this in the same room as a dead fucking body?!”

Nicole’s angry outburst gave the woman pause. Annoyance mixed with a hint of confusion on her face. She looked at her assistant, an eyebrow raised in a silent question.

“No. Just- just anestesia.” Emma answered promptly.

“What the fuck do you mean anesthesia? Anesthesia doesn’t make you smell like a goddamn decomposing corpse, do you have cotton stuck up your noses?!” Thankfully the bleeding was starting to subside, which meant there was nothing to stifle her steadily raising angry tone.

Miranda, now sporting a scowl, got up and grabbed Nicole’s chin between two fingers. It made her flinch back, but there was no escaping the iron grip.

“I can assure you that the man is not dead, simply under anesthesia and recovering from a bad infection.” She moved Nicole’s head from left to right, eyes scrutinizing as ever.

Afterwards, she turned back and wrote something down on a piece of paper and simply instructed Emma to wrap up and lead Nicole out. The sudden shift not only in demeanor, but also in her position from the bed to standing upright was mildly dizzying. She swapped the gown for her normal clothes as quickly as she physically could, not wanting to spend another unnecessary second in this underground grave.

While she was ushered out the door, Mother Miranda’s sickly sweet voice rang after her.

“I’ll see you in a couple days.”

Her stomach turned.

---

The trek home was short and silent, Nicole simply wanting to get home as soon as possible and get a damn hot shower and sleep.

She bid the young man that was accompanying her goodbye the moment the Castle’s entrance was within jogging distance, and hurried steps took her to the imposing doors. It was Alexandria to answer her knock, Nicole having left her own keys in her bedroom.

“Welcome back my la-” the polite smile was all but wiped off the woman’s face, replaced by wide eyes. “Are you injured?”

Nicole looked at her confused, then down at herself. A muttered curse escaped past her lips when she remembered the bloody mess on her skin. “I’m okay. Just-... just don’t tell anyone I’m here yet. I'll change first.”

Her plan went out the window when a set of hasty steps came booming toward them.

“Nico-”

Cassandra’s voice died in her throat when her golden eyes landed on Nicole’s small frame, dried dark blood on her face and arms and her clothes stained. An angry growl slipped from between bared teeth.

“What the fuck did she do to you?”

Nicole was quick to answer, too tired to deal with anything other than a few hours of sleep. “I’m okay. I’m just-...” she shook her head, then turned to the Steward. “Alexandria kindly ask a maid to draw me a bath.”

“At once.” And with that the woman turned and scurried away, most likely also not wanting to be in the vicinity of an angry Cassandra.

---

The hot water felt like pure bliss on her skin. It seemed to make every muscle relax and get rid of the awful tension. She leaned back, eyes closed and hands idly moving through the water.

It was just mildly difficult to fully relax with Cassandra muttering and pacing back and forth in the same room though.

"I'm-... I'm not letting you do this again."

Nicole simply sighed and started to scrub away at dried blood. The miniature red waterfall from earlier had gotten blood all over her arms and chest, some splatters even getting on her legs. Her face was also a mess, trails of blood going from her nose and mouth to the chin with smudges and splatters.

"What did she even do to you?"

Before she had a chance to reply, a knock came from the door and a maid entered with a few clean towels and a change of clothes from Nicole's own bedroom. The girl didn't linger, simply giving them both a courteous bow and exiting the room.

Looking for something to change the subject, Nicole focused on the pleasant honey smell. Honey with a slight citrus-y undertone, maybe lemon or orange.

"Did you get a new soap?"

Cassandra stopped pacing, brows furrowed. "No? It's the same one."

Confused, Nicole brought a hand that had just been scrubbed with that very soap right under her nose and took a deep inhale. It was indeed the same one. Chamomile and mint. She sighed in annoyance and leaned back against the cool porcelain while Cassandra came and bent down on one knee to be somewhat on eye level.

"Nose still not working properly or…?" She said while gingerly tilting Nicole's chin up with two fingers. She grimaced at one yet to be washed trail of dried blood that made its way to her wife's thin upper lip.

Nicole simply shook her head and grabbed Cassandra's hand. "Can you… go get ready. I'm beyond tired and just want to lay down with you."

Cassandra pursed her lips but nodded none the less. With a kiss on top of red hair, she turned and left the spacious bathroom, door shutting with a heavy thud.

Left alone, she scrubbed every inch of skin again and took a few extra minutes to enjoy the warmth of the water. It felt so incredibly odd to not feel any actual pain after the day's events. Any trace of what her body went through had been erased by her newfound ability, not leaving behind even the faintest mark of a scar, nor blackened skin caused by electric shocks.

She pushed herself out of the tub, grimacing at the slight pink tone the water had taken. Body and hair quickly dried with the towels, she put on the clothes, a comfortable pair of shorts and a tank top, and finally stepped out of the bathroom too.

Cassandra was waiting for her in bed, velvety dark robes hanging loosely on her shoulders and eyes fixated on the window while her fingers were tapping furiously on the cover of a book forgotten in her lap. Book that was quickly placed on the nightstand when Nicole climbed in beside her and pushed her way into the brunette's arms. She was tired and absolutely not above demanding cuddles.

Her wife wasted no time in wrapping an arm around her and pulling the soft blanket up to cover them both. Nicole interlocked their fingers, absentmentally turning the ring on Cassandra's finger. The same ring she had, albeit in a smaller size. A golden band with intricate floral patterns engraved on it. It had no protruding gem, something they both opted for so that the rings wouldn't need to be taken off while working and wearing gloves. Instead, eight small ocre gems were lined among the minuscule curled leaves.

It took Cassandra about two minutes to take a deep inhale and open her mouth. New record.

"Are you… are you hurt?"

Nicole didn't look up at her, the concern dripping from her words alone were enough to squeeze her heart painfully.

"No. I'm all healed up, just tired." She could almost feel Cassandra's question of clarification, but not wanting to go over what had happened down in the laboratory so soon, she opted for something the brunette would hopefully be just as interested in. "We did get some odd results though."

At the lack of any interruption she went on. "Accelerated heart rate whenever I get hurt. Can't pass out." Which was both a blessing and a curse, depending on the point of view and situation. "Also for some reason my temperature gets really high."

"You get one hell of a fever?"

"Yeah."

Cassandra tapped a finger on Nicole's hand, mentally going over possibilities. "Aren't fevers used against infections? Maybe that has something to do with it."

A small hum passed her lips. Could that have something to do with it? It was possible that her healing abilities caused a fever in order to fight off any possible infection before it even became one. Maybe it was her body's way of lessening damage as much as possible since, as the day's events showed, the old replaced tissue had a tendency to get purged. She grimaced at the memory of slowly choking on blood and went for something at least slightly more pleasant.

"Oh and… I can't bleed out. Blood volume stays constant."

She looked up at Cassandra with what could only be described as a shit eating grin. Her wife blinked, realization seeming to dawn on her together with the faintest hint of a blush on her cheeks. She coughed.

"Yeah well. I'll keep that in mind. For when you don't need to sleep."

"And deny me some fun now?" Nicole's pout was purely for dramatic effect and it gained her an eye roll.

Two slender fingers gripped her chin to keep it in place while narrowed golden eyes bored into her green ones. The pout slowly morphed into a smirk. Cassandra was not the kind of person who did not indulge in her own pleasures and that, although to a more careful extent, included drinking her lover's blood. A fact that Nicole was not only not complaining about, but also learned to use in order to push all the right buttons.

When Nicole turned her head in the uncharacteristically gentle grip to plant a small kiss on the soft palm, Cassandra finally gave in. Concern was momentarily put on hold in the name of the normalcy they both have been denied in the last few weeks. She bent down, their lips meeting into a kiss that soon turned needy with tongue slipping past sharp teeth and a hand scratching lightly at her nape. Soon Cassandra broke their kiss, but only to slowly trail her way across her jawline with kisses and small nips. She bit at the soft skin right under the jaw bone, eliciting a quiet groan right by her sensitive ear. Black painted lips took her down the neck and across collarbones, planting a kiss right in between them, at the base of Nicole's throat.

When she slowly made her way to an exposed shoulder, Nicole's hand at the back of her head guided her further up, right above where her pulse was. After an inquisitive hum against her skin, she spoke quietly.

"Since blood loss isn't exactly a problem… no need to avoid the neck really."

Cassandra hesitated for a moment, but ultimately decided to trust her wife. She placed a gentle kiss on the spot right above where blood was flowing in rhythm with her heartbeat. The same gentle kiss that was placed on the skin countless times before and that only Nicole had the privilege of experiencing.

Sharp fangs sunk into tender flesh, the warm blood invading Cassandra's mouth making her moan low in her throat. Being used to the feeling of the bite by now, Nicole simply closed her eyes with a sigh and let her body melt into Cassandra's arms. The familiar blissful ache was welcomed, even though, she noticed, it did not bring with it the lightheadedness she had grown accustomed to.

Although she wasn't aware of it, Cassandra was, in a way, a creature of habit. Every time she would drink her blood, her hand would come up to cup Nicole's cheek, thumb slowly tracing the jawline, right before she would pull her mouth away. Every time, without fail.

This time however, when that happened, Nicole kept her in place with the hand tangled in brunette hair, her voice coming out breathy when she spoke. "Go on."

Cassandra would never admit it, but her self control would always waver while feeding. Therefore, she didn't need much convincing, continuing to take mouthfuls of blood in between a satisfied groan. When she finally had her fill, she pulled back with a bashful look in her eyes. Concern quickly flashed on her face at the sight of the crimson mess on her wife's neck.

Nicole however, not wanting their moment to get ruined, took one of Cassandra's hands in her own and slowly placed a soft kiss on each knuckle. After that was done, and the downright ticklish sensation of skin patching itself subsided, she guided the fingers over the bloody skin.

"See? Healed," she whispered.

Cassandra gingerly traced her fingers over the spot, looking for no longer existing puncture marks. She smiled upon not finding them and turned to pull out a handkerchief from a small drawer of her nightstand. A ritual of sorts, one practiced more times than they cared to count over the years. Cassandra passed the white cloth over the skin, wiping away the crimson stains while her wife relaxed into the touch.

"Feeling good?" It was a remark meant to poke fun at how much Nicole seemed to enjoy herself, but the double meaning did not go unnoticed.

A smile tugged at Nicole's lips and she nodded.

In turn, Cassandra hummed. "You taste different." And, at her lover's furrowed brows and the slightest hint of alarm flashing in her eyes, she clarified. "Not bad. Just different. Slightly sweeter actually."

"Is that so," Nicole purred, the smile returning to her lips.

Cassandra discarded the cloth on the floor to be retrieved later and shifted both of them back down on the myriad of pillows.

"Yes. Now how about you get some sleep."

Nicole wasted no time in snaking an arm around her waist and nuzzling into her side. It would never cease to amaze her how Cassandra's presence could make her feel so at ease, as if nothing beyond the castle's walls existed. At that moment, she couldn't help but be grateful for her newfound ability, useful in far more ways than one.

She stretched slightly upwards, auburn hair like a small waterfall behind her.

"I love you," she whispered against cool ashy lips.

"I love you too," Cassandra replied, closing the almost nonexistent space between their mouths in a soft kiss.

It left behind a slight coppery taste on Nicole's lips, but she couldn't bring herself to care, instead readjusting her legs to tangle comfortably around her wife's thigh.

#unhinged maiden™ my beloved #cassandra dimitrescu x maiden #fanfic #lady dimitrescu #mother miranda #tw torture #to bargain for immortality

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mocha-gladiator · 2 years

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I have a question it might be a bit dumb.

Have you ever seen Winnie the Pooh?

If so who’s your fav? And Would you Ocs think it’s cool or be confused?

so fun fact I had a Winnie the Pooh stuffed animal (and still do!) for most of my childhood and he was actually my favorite.

we had several cassette tapes of movies but it wasn't like an extensive collection. I never really thought to pick a favorite out of the characters, though. I think I was least attached to Rabbit because he was the more adult character?

I actually don't know how many of my characters even know what a play is let alone a movie, but I think Typhon and Ka would think it was cute because of how everyone interacted with each other and how everything usually turned out alright in the end. I was about to say that most of them are soft but I think one of the cassettes that I owned was one where they all went into a skull-shaped cave to look for Christopher Robin and got separated from each other and... Pooh ended up stuck somewhere by himself with no food. if I recall there was also some very sad songs about being lonely.

I think most of my other OCS are just write it off as a thing for kids and probably not consider it.

anyway this is my plush (left) and what I assume he looked like when he was given to me shortly after I was born

#ask #pooh

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genesisinferno · 3 years

Text

This was meant to be a future chapter for "Follow His Footsteps" but the scene wouldn't leave my brain so now you guys can have it and I can finally get it out of my head. I'll probably have to something a little differently for this planned scene, rip.

////

"Just this once," Cross said. He wouldn't do this again. He wouldn't let his guard down again - he couldn't. If only for himself, he couldn't afford to let his guard down more than once. He had to stay on track, he had to stay focused, he had to be cold and distant at all times...

But just this once. Just this one time, he could afford to let his guard down, right?

"Just this once," Killer agreed with a nod, something almost sly in his empty gaze. They both knew he didn't truly believe that and was just going along with it - he had every intention to get Cross to drop his guard again, regardless if Cross wanted to or not. Cross should care, he should withdraw or be annoyed. He should keep his guard up. But he was tired. So, so very tired. So, this time, only this time, he would let it go. But he would never do it again, no matter how much it hurt or how much it killed him inside. Just this once.

Cross stares at Killer for a moment, cautiously. A part of him still didn't want to let go - he had built this mask up for so long and he'd forgotten what he was like underneath. It almost scared him, not knowing who he was anymore. He'd been a different person in X-Tales and had worn a mask ever since he'd destroyed his home. To let go now, even if only for a short while, was terrifying. It was a vulnerability he hadn't allowed himself in so long. He could still put his mask back on after this, right? He could still pretend, right? Killer wouldn't... try to draw him out again, right? (He knows he would.)

Something in Cross snaps, strained and tired from the pressure of holding himself together for so long now, and that's all it takes. He ducks his skull, wrapping his arms around Killer in a loose hug. Cross drops his skull onto Killer's chest, his arms tightening until he's almost crushing Killer in his grasp. Killer, for once in his life, is silent as he wraps his own arms around Cross, returning the hug. Unlike Cross, Killer doesn't hesitate in holding him tightly, as if he's afraid that if he doesn't, Cross will run from him again. Something about the action, something about the unspoken intentions and feelings that lay underneath causes Cross to shake. He has to physically restrain himself from crying. He knows what he is and he knows what he does. Not just to Killer, but to the Dust and Horror too. Even to Nightmare and Error. He knows how he worries them, how he brushes off their concern so easily that it makes them frustrated to the point they feel angry and helpless. How they look out for him all the time and just want him to let them in - something Cross can't afford to do. Something Cross is too scared to allow, in his current situation. Because letting them in means getting more attached, means putting them in even more pain when he leaves. It means it'll hurt them further.

Just like Killer is hurt now, because of him. Cross hates the feeling of helplessness he feels, the frustration at not being able to help further, the guilt and the pain, and the worry and fear of losing Killer. He hates how he knows that they feel like this about him on a daily basis. But like he's done for so long, he doesn't allow himself to lament on his own mistakes or shortcomings - instead lashing out at the one before him.

"Dammit, Killer! You almost died, you idiot!" Cross snaps, glaring at the injured skeleton with unshed tears in his sockets. For a second, Killer seems almost surprised but then his signature grin stretches over his skull.

"Yeh, but I didn't," Killer states it like it's some obvious fact he's proud of, when he should be more concerned with the fact that he nearly died and still isn't completely in the clear yet. Until they find a way back to the castle, Killer's still very much at risk. Especially since Cross' makeshift first aid wouldn't do much more than support Killer's injuries until they could get proper help.

"That doesn't make it any better," Cross whines, almost childishly. Oddly enough, Killer's casualness helps to keep the tears at bay. If he can still do that much, then it's possible it's not affecting him as much as Cross had originally feared. It's something he has to chance to bounce back from like usual.

"Sure it does," Killer chirps and looks at him teasingly. "Ya worried anyway?" The question takes Cross aback, because of course he is. It had been his fault Killer was injured to begin with. He got hurt protecting Cross while he was stupidly distracted by something or the other. Despite how much Cross tried to deny it, tried to refuse the feelings, he cared about Killer - about all of the bad Sanses, even though he couldn't afford to. He's discovered he's absolutely terrible at remaining detached when put in front of skeletons hellbent on caring for him - even though he didn't need the care or the worry.

"I... of course I am. You... you're hurt and it's my fault. You could have died and it would have been my fault," Cross mumbled sadly, the tears finally spilling out of his sockets. They dropped down onto Killer's shirt, soaked up by the fabric.

"Hey. Hey. Don't say shit like that, makes you seem like you really care underneath all that bravado," Killer chuckled. Cross gripped him tighter for a second, remembering himself. Killer was right. Even if Cross decided to let his guard down for a bit, he still shouldn't say stuff like that. He couldn't take it back. Killer seemed to notice the change, quickly speaking up again.

"In all seriousness... don't worry 'bout it. I ain't going anywhere. Think you can get rid of me that easily?" Killer seemed amused by the thought that anyone could even consider the thought of it. As if he were immortal. He wasn't. He was strong but even he could die. Not to say that it was easy to kill him - Killer was like a parasite with a grudge, hellbent on taking everyone down with him.

"No..." Cross sighed and Killer's smug grin sharpened. Cross just sighed, burying his skull in Killer's chest and simply soaking in the fact that Killer was alive and allowing himself to be relieved at the fact instead of pushing it away. He'd gotten him out in time. He'd been there. They've avoided the worst case scenario. Killer was alive and they still had a chance out of this.

"...do you want me gone?" Killer's voice is quiet, far quieter he's ever heard it, and Cross can just barely pick up on the insecurity hidden within it. His skull snaps up, more from the tone than the actual question itself. Killer is supposed to be annoyingly confident, not sad or insecure.

"No!" Cross denies immediately, surprised and more than willing to fight Killer on this if he has to. There's the slightest shift to Killer's expression and a tenseness to his body that Cross isn't familiar with. To his surprise, at his words, Killer's expression returns to normal and he relaxes slightly, pulling Cross closer to him minutely.

"Then it's all good, yeh? Besides, I'm getting a voluntary hug from the solitary soldier himself, so it wasn't all for nothing. Heh," Killer chuckles, and Cross glares at him for it. He has half a mind to ignore Killer entirely. His inability to shut up ruins everything.

But then the smile drops off Killer's face again and Cross finds himself unable to keep the glare up, instead watching Killer in concern.

"Just this once... tell me something, Criss-Cross," Killer's voice is quiet and soft that it doesn't even sound like his voice anymore. Cross isn't used to this vulnerability and it's beginning to send him into a panic. He doesn't know how to deal with stuff like this anymore. He hasn't dealt with stuff like this - even for himself, that he doesn't know what to do. "Do ya care at all? Would you... be better off without me?"

Everything about that question was wrong, especially coming from Killer. From secure, overconfident, stupid Killer. And it hurt. Crap, it hurts and this is exactly what Cross was trying to avoid. He didn't want to hurt and he certainly didn't want any of the Bad Sans to hurt because of him. Apparently, he'd failed both points, because Cross cared so damn much that it hurts. He didn't want to lose Killer. He couldn't stand the thought of it, let alone bear the pain that would come from it. He'd lose whatever sanity he had left if he lost one of them, he just didn't want to admit it. That is, he didn't want to admit until Killer asked. Because now Cross was willing to, if it meant that Killer would just stay.

"I don't wanna lose you. So don't go, Killer," The tears spilled out of his sockets, as he whispered, "You've gotta... You've gotta stay with me, okay? D-don't leave me." Killer held him tighter, as if afraid to let him go and Cross clutched onto him for dear life, afraid to ever leave this moment.

///

I don't own any characters. This is meant purely platonically but I guess you can see it as Kross if you want to. But yeah, this is meant to be brotherly, with Cross being super afraid to open up and finally taking one of the first steps to. I wrote this instead of writing the next chapter but since this isn't a major delay, I think I can get away with it.

#killertale sans #cross sans #X tales #bad sanses #if you squint you can view it as cross #future chapter rip me #platonic #brotherly love here #hi if you're reading tags #are tumbler tags like ao3 tags?#because I have every intention to have fun with it if so #cross #killer #bonding #if you squint you can view it as Kross #xtale sans

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hiimsociallyawkward · 3 years

Text

the darkest hour pt 2

i'm back with my bs. this is for my bestie @lady-ofmagic-andstars. basically, all of my dumb thoughts while i watched 'darkest hour pt 2', 04.02 of merlin. in case you weren't aware.. ✨spoilers✨

right off the bat i'm sad

ok when i first watched this i was really confused. i mean, you see others when they interact with the dorocha have that perpetual frost on their face right? all of them, every single one. so imagine my surprise when merlin has no frost on his face, and he's miserable yea- but he's not dead??

like tbh, watching this again, ik why but when i first watched this, i was SO confused.

arthur looks so worried slkdjfalskfsd

him being willing to abandon the mission to get merlin back to camelot to be treated 😔🤪😎🤤🤩 lots of emotions

LANCELOT. of course it's lancelot. santiago is perfect. actually.

merlin looks so SICKLY. it physically pains me to see him like that

okok hahaa. the scene where percival is carrying merlin. i have several notes on that.

1) ik it's supposed to be all 'noble' looking. yk? them walking in slow mo, percival carrying merlin like he's been slained in battle. knights looking knightly

ALL I CAN FOCUS ON IS THE LACK OF PROPER NECK SUPPORT FOR MERLIN. PLS TELL ME I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE.

like pls

second note, idk why this remind me of hagrid carrying harry back

idk maybe that's just me but it feels oddly reminiscent

colin is SO pale my heart is actually hurting for him what the heck

asf;lsdjfa;lsdfj 'take me with you' stop.

dude they ACTUALLY care about each other. i just love them. arthur is so worried rn and while i'm like 'alsjfalsdj i don't want arthur to be sad and worried' we can see just how MUCH arthur cares about merlin.

like yea, we KNOW that they care about each other. but arthur is the prince and merlin's a servant so arthur can't have friends, but they're friends, and they care, and it makes me happy

ok it's sad and everything that merlin's basically dying but is it bad of me that i chuckle at merlin SLUMPED over on his horse?? probably.

but i mean, merlin is already raising himself up so he can sit more comfortably on the horse. ik that doesn't mean that he's in the clear yet, but he's doing a LOT better than the other people who ran into the dorocha. idk where i'm going with this

to quote the destiny and chicken podcast (who i love btw, if you want an awesome merlin podcast, check them out), they stay on arthur's face for SO long after merlin and lancelot leave.

i feel EVERYTHING that arthur is feeling in this moment. he's so pretty

there's another beautiful landscape. i'm not even sorry i'm gonna attach them ALL.

tell me that's not gorgeous

LMAO WHAT IS GWAINE DOING IN THAT TREE.

gwaine is the EMBODIMENT of 'boys will be boys' when he sticks his hand into that tree and gets swarmed by bees.

he's adorable and i love him

ok but also, someone tell me why capes are so hot. someone TELL me.

separate from the episode but on the note of capes being hot, i want a cloak SO BADLY. like the whole gist. floor length, big hooded cloak. why?? it's not like i'm sneaking anywhere but still. ✨cloak✨

ok the line where leon goes 'if anyone can get merlin back to camelot, it's lancelot' and arthur's face?? idk what to make of it. someone help me pls.

ok actually this probably isn't the best reaction shot but someone please help

the only thing i can think of is that arthur momentarily forgot and was reminded that merlin was in danger bc of him?

another thought is that he thinks he should take merlin back instead of lancelot?

ik for a fact you guys are better at analysising this stuff than i am so pls, thoughts?

i love lancelot so much. first time i watched this, i was CRUSHED

him carrying merlin to the lake(?) pond(?) area and then covering him with his cape? i love it

ok idk why but i love the idea of merlin instinctively going towards the water

it makes me think back to how he's made of magic and basically everywhere, espeically nature, has magic and instinctively- he wants to connect with nature as much as he can so his body just puts his hand in the water

a dumber thought i had, his hand is ✨sparkly✨in the water HAHAH

omg when the water called lancelot i deadass thought it was freya. i'm actually dumb i have WATCHED this before and i STILL thought it was freya

'a future that has been written since the dawn of time' makes me so proud but also so sad at the same time

it's like, yes, merlin is going to 'save the world' but it's like he's there just to do that. anyways, i just want him to be happy

MORE SPARKLY

these water spirts are op but also MORE SPARKLY. hehe i thin kthat's so funny

also, i'm literally only like 7 mins in. buckle yourself in

l;askdjflskdjf arthur going into the tunnels with the wilderons?? i miss merlin ouch. AND THE GAJA BERRIES. arthur misses merlin.

ok percival tackling gwaine?? cuties ;))

heheheeh gwaine kicking a skull and then running directly behind arthur for protection?? pls stop. i already love you

HAHA OK. THEM WEARING THE GAJA BERRIES ON THEIR FACE REMINDS ME OF THIS FACE MASK . THAT'S LITERALLY HOW I LOOK WITH THAT THIS FACE MASK ON HAHAA

yes im dumb, but the 5 of them slowly peeking over the rock and then ducking back down?? i love that so much they're so cute

omg what's wrong with me. not these knights literally FEARING their lives and me going 'they're so cute'

ANYWAYS

gwaine you absolute dumbass. smh merlin just took it but you just HAD to stab it. #cancelled

FRICK. YOU. AGRAVAINE.

YES. i have a love hate relationship with gaius, but BUST into the council room. king energy right there

smh gaius you pUSH over.

I LOVE GWEN RIGHT HERE

YES

FIGHT FOR WHAT IS RIGHT

DON'T LET ALL THOSE SMELLY OLD COUNCILMEN PUSH YOU AROUND

THIS IS ACTUALLY QUEEN SH!T RIGHT HERE EVERYONE ELSE CAN LEAVE

stfu agravaine 'gueniviere'. ST F UP

ok gwen. pop OFF

you KNOW that arthur would've fought agravaine on this. GO GWEN for speaking her mind

oh look at me with anotehr fic rec. sort of, not really. ok but this scene with gwen talking about all the villagers remind of this fic called To Love, Honor, and Piss Off by @thenerdyindividual .

ok so it's basically a fic where basically merlin and arthur have this 'arranged marriage' type thing for 3 years, and merlin is arthur's 'common consort'. what that means is that arthur marries merlin as a show of good faith and to learn more about what it means to be a commoner- merlin giving arthur the tea about commoner life

anywAYS. check that our if you want, but i loved it

stfu 'i feel the pain as much as you' agravaine. hop off my dick

YES. GWEN. PLANT THAT SEED OF DOUBT THAT AGRAVAINE MIGHT NOT BE ALL THAT HE SEEMS. i love gwen :,)

wow when she's intellegent with her speaking so everyone HAS to side with her but also respectful so NO ONE can get mad at her?? i stan. i ACTUALLY stan

santiago is so pretty

the PANIC in his voice. i stan.

HAHA AND MERLIN'S SNARKY 'SHH'

merlin is ready to GO. he's like, sorry for almost dying. that was ill advised of me.

i'm actually soft for any displays of friendship ever. what does that mean about me 💀 KIDDING. anyways..

i love the *swing* *duck* 'yea, not as quick as arthur

sa;kfs;akdfj lancelot insisting that merlin go back to camelot and merlin just nOt

LADS

stop rn. lancelot's face when merlin turns away. i am in pAin. I AM SO SAD OVER LANCELOT. PLS LANCELOT.

this isn't exactly, but morgana's paleness from here on out reminded me of merlin when he was literally DYING.

anyways, that's my note on that

like, yes- i get it- morgana is evil now. but idk should i feel bad for her? she looks so pale and ghasty and just :(

aksfhaskdjfas;ldf morgana

HAHA MORGANA IS SO EDGY IN THIS MOMENT. 'I'D RATHER DROWN IN MY OWN BLOOD THAN SEE THAT DAY' SO DRAMATIC. WHY IS SHE SO EMO/GOTH. LIKE IK I SHOULD BE SCARED FOR WHAT THAT MEANS BUT I CAN'T STOP LAUGHING

stfu don't kill gwen i'll KiLl you

agravaine literally needs to die

stop. i am literally SCREAMING when agravaine is asking gwen to meet him in his chambers. PLS. STOP. STOP STOP STOP. I NEED A WHISLTE. I BITE MY THUMB AT AGRAVAINE. HE NEEDS TO SACK THE HATEFUL MANSION. BETTER YET I'LL BURN HIS MANSION

again, someone tell me why capes are so hot. especially these red ones?? i'm in love with them.

ok see this guy?? he just died with the forst on his face. not merlin?? he started getting better. surly that should've tipped them off that merlin was different

merlin's little head quirk when he does magic. ALSFJASLDFJAS MERLIN. NO ONE SAID YOU WERE USELESS. AND IF THEY DID I WOULD BEAT. THEM. UP. GIVE ME ADDRESS RN.

wow. seriously. i'm gonna attach all the pretty landscape pictures

morgana's like 'i'll cut a b!tch'. ok ik morgana's evil and everything, but morgana flinging that guard against the wall is bad ass

oh this is weird but gwen telling agravaine to 'show courage' but the whole room tinted green? ik this isn't harry potter or anything but idk i thought that was interesting. i'm not abt to go into if i think agravaine is a slytherin or what but still

STOP. GET. YOUR. HANDS. AWAY. FROM. HER. I ACTULALY HATE HIM. SHE'S SO UNCOMFORTABLE. BACK THE FRICK UP AGARAVINE.

morgana :( smh you can't deny that morgana and gwen carried for each other and morgana flinging gwen away is making me sad. don't touch me

asldjfasldasd 'you're never alone' elyan i love you

lancelot and merlins being lads. omg no them talking about gwen

lancelot is SO noble. stop this reminds me of Die for you in secret by @emrysofmagic so much right now. not gonna lie. your fic LITERALLY lives in my head rent free and sometimes i think of it and my heart just HURTS in those last few chapeters. PHYSICALLy. i am in pain. anyways.

stop the trope where it's like "i love them, but i just want them to be happy. it doesn't matter if they're with me or not. i just want them to be happy"

I WAS LITERALLY SCREECHING AS MERLIN WAS CALLING KILGHARRAH i'm not even capping

ok so it's been like a month ish since i've watched merlin bc i was waiting for @//f-f-podcast 's destiny and chicken podcast, so i don't exactly what terms kilgharrah and merlin are at right now

still i think it's very sweet of merlin to bow slightly when kilgharrah looks at him

'the bravest and most noble of them all' 🥺

aw. merlin is really saying good bye right now

ok this scene is weird bc like i said, i don't rlly remember how merlin and kilgharrah are right now but it still makes me sad

asldjfslakdjfasd merlin and kilgharrah are old friends now. that makes me happy but sad at the same time

ok the 'it will be an empty world without you, young warlock' kills me.

obviously, we know that even though they butt heads, kilgharrah and merlin both care about each other

not only is kilgharrah being forced to let merlin go right now, but he's making peace with the fact that he'll be alone

the last dragonlord is planning to die. and kilgharrah is going to be alone again, like he was in that cave.

another thing is that if merlin died rn then we would never have aithusia. i'm kinda going on a tangent now but idk this scene is sad

this forest is so pretty

literally just lancelot's face and lancelot in this whole episode.

that's my note

HAHA GWAINE BURNING IS SOCKS

LADS BEING LADS

I LOVE THEM

omg i always see posts about this.

like merlin and lancelot planned that lancelot was going to walk in first and trick them and THEN merlin walked in

that's so funny to me. they're SO dramatic HAHAH

merlin looks so happy

BRO

ARTHUR

JUST HUG

HIM

PLS

STO

JUST HUG HIM WHAT'S YOUR PROBLEM

Tell me why they actually look MARRIED here. PLS

🥲🥲 SELF SACRIFICING IDIOTS I LOVE YOU BOTH YOURE BREAKING MY HEART

LADS I LOVE THEM

🤠🤠 arthur wanting Gwen to be happy is KILLING ME. He loves her so much

This is so pretty. Honestly like how

Who let merlin have this many pretty landscapes

HOENSTLY

Lajs;dlkfajd buds in a boat together.

This reminds me of going to amusement parks and there’s always that boat ride

They’re the cutest

Ok so they also have this picture. It’s actually 3 pictures spliced together because the episode pans down and it’s really badly spliced (sorry) but LOOk how pretty that is.

WTF

Omg not me literally copying merlin with his slow mo head flick at the wyverns to make them go away

;sldkfjasdlkjasd leon percival and elyan and my heart.

Ok i’m not even gonna try to lie. They all have my heart

Frick you cailleah

Omg i was like ‘gwaine you dumbass’ jK i love him. Pls don’t come for my neck

Asldjfasldjfka ‘i’m prepared to pay whatever price is necessary’

HAHA CAN YOU NOT. WHAT IS WITH THIS CREEPY ‘COME HITHER’ HAND MOTION MS CAILLEAH

Stopp rn. ‘It’s my density

STOP. I AM HOWLING. LANCELOT

WHY

COME BACK

NO NONO PLS. YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME.

stop rn merlin is all alone.

PAN TO ARTHUR WHO IS LITERALLY SURROUNDED BY EVERYONE.

Stop they all look so sad. I’m so sad.

merlin looks like he’s cried

I’m not sure abt arthur with his ‘no man is worth your tears’ type business but still

I am ✨sad✨

I screamed at this picture. I am depressed

Anyways

Gwen’s face is killing me

I’m so sad i don’t even want to write commentaries

Arthur realizing that lancelot only died because he loved gwen

Gwen standing in front of the fire

Aslkdfjasldjfa im so sad

HER STANDING IN FRONT OF THE FIRE ALL ALONE.

I. AM. SO. SAD.

STFU THAT THRONE IS NOT “RIGHTFULLY” YOURS MORGANA

STOP PLS GET AWAY

WHAT IS WITH THIS WEIRD TENSION

PLS DO NOT STAND WITHIN KISSING DISTANCE

IK YOU’RE NOT TECHNICALLY BLOOD RELATED BUT STILL.

PLEASE.

STOP.

I HATE AGRAVAINE

✨we hate agravaine in this house✨

😭😭 not merlin having ANOTHER secret. I’m so sorry bby

Anyways! I’ll be back next week to rant more about the wicked day so I’ll see you then! thanks I love you bye

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sophi-s · 3 years

Text

Done

Chaotic Angel Twins (CAT XD). For those interested, I wrote some headcannons for these two as well. You can find it under the cut.

Aurelion & Auriel headcannons

As I said before, they are twins. A brother and a sister.

Both have eyes after their father and (unfortunately for him) temper after their mother.

They were born too early. Thanks to Azrael all ended well but for a few weeks they were very weak and needed extra care.

This is one of the many reasons Abaddon is aggressively protective of the little fledglings.

Their birth changed the old, disgruntled angelic general. Brought back something from the times when he was younger and less bitter. Something that warmed his stone cold heart a little and no one was more surprised by this change than Abaddon himself. But don't say it out loud. It works only for his kids. He still won't hesitate to quite literally hand your arse over to you XD

In the end, they pulled through the worst and grew up to be quite a troublesome duo.

Aurelion causes the most mischief. He's the troublemaker number one.

Auriel is more collected and very closely attached to her father but once an opportunity presents itself, she won't hold back from joining her brother.

They love Abaddon but they wouldn't be caught dead actually obeying their old man.

Of course, there are moments when they do listen to him but it's only when they don't feel like causing trouble or if they see that their father looks down in the dumps, utterly exhausted or downright pissed off.

They might be cocky most of the time but when Abaddon gets really angry they turn into absolutely different children.

No, he wouldn't cause them any harm, the worst punishment they can get is yelling, stern reprimanding, getting grounded or sent to Ardent Spire to help older angels if they do something particularly bad.

"With all due respect, Lord Abaddon, but is this punishment meant for them or us ?"

One of their favorite games is called "hijack a griffin". Need I say more?

There are sometimes days when their father doesn't feel like going anywhere and can't focus on anything due to phantom pains of his lost eye, like white hot metal jammed into his skull and Uriel has to take over his duties for the time being (you know migraines? Now imagine it centered on your eye and ten, or more, times worse).

This is the only occasion when the squabs don't mess around and simply stay with him, prattling about various things to keep him distracted, or blessedly dozing off on top of him as he rests, waiting for the pain to lessen.

Abaddon thinks they're too curious for their own good. Another reason for being always on alert.

Lay a finger on either of them and the last thing you'll hear is the sound of an absolutely ballistic archangel teleporting behind you XD

Before you ask, no, the twins don't respect authority. At all.

Their favorite victims are the Archons. "They get mad in very funny ways." Besides, there's something so satisfying about pranking an Archon..

They love going out to watch the Hellguard train. After all, they too are going to be warriors when they grow up.

Aurelion and Auriel are so notoriously mischievous that now whenever someone knocks on Abaddon's door, the first thing the archangel says is "What did they do this time?"

Their favorite way of messing with their father is tying his feet together or running off when he's not looking.

Have you ever seen Abaddon seemingly pointlessly wandering around the White City, looking around and snapping at anyone who dared to interrupt him? Yeah, he was on a child-hunt..

The twins know their city like the backs of their hands so you can imagine how difficult it is to find them.

Don't get me wrong, the squabs can behave if they want to. The problem is that most of the time they don't 😂

"Let me see what you have" vine.

I mean, Abaddon did give them a couple of lessons on self defense but he wouldn't hand either of them any sharp objects. Not yet at least. The risk is not worth it.

(Optional for an OC insert) Even Raziel isn't safe from their shenanigans. They ain't scared of one archangel, no matter how unsettling even to adults he is.

In fact they see him as a friend and visit him frequently.

The only reason they tend to mess with the Keeper is his ability to scry. They see it as a challenge.

They would probably consider Azrael their friend too but since he's one of their tutors... you know. Authority = prank victim 😂

This is why they like annoying their father so much. You could say that its some funny sort of respect. You have to be worthy to suffer from their best pranks 😆

Turns out even Azrael's patience has its limits :P

Whenever both Abaddon and Uriel have to attend to their duties, the twins are left under the care of one of general's friends.

"UNCLE NATHANIEL!" :D

They love Nathaniel to bits and always enjoy his company. He's one of the few angels who aren't twins' target. Mostly because he's at it with them when no one's watching XDDD

Oh, btw. The Horsemen don't want to have anything to do with those little devils. Abaddon is bad enough but his kids are somehow even worse.

War finds them too chaotic and unruly. Ha can't reach an understanding with them.

Fury wouldn't touch them with a ten foot pole. She dreads to think what they will become once they're adults...

Death thinks they're too... "strife'y" for his taste. Nah, that's Abaddon's problem, not his.

All of them stay away. Except for Strife. He likes the little squabs. He just needs to find a way to get past Abaddon in a "mother-hen" mode.

"I refuse to let you corrupt my children, Horseman, back off!"

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silver-wield · 4 years

Text

Found a few more ficlets I thought I posted, but apparently didn't, unless tumblr ate them.

The biting cold wasn't much better inside the cave than out climbing the cliff face. The glacier was a hard task for the most experienced climbers and, Cloud and his friends weren't even close to that. So far, they owed a lot of their progress to luck, trust and teamwork. The flags left by former climbers, along with the odd frozen corpse warning them of what could happen if they lagged or lost faith.

It was hard on everyone. Aerith promised everything would be all right before she walked into the light, but mysterious words and a vague reassuring smile only took them so far. They needed something more to carry them the rest of the way to Sephiroth's hiding place.

"Aiya, why is it so cold!? Where's the fire materia!? Who's got it!? Hand it over!" Yuffie's complaining echoed through the cave, causing giant stalactites to tremor.

"Shh!" Barret put a finger to his lips, raising his eyes upward.

"Did you just shush me!?" Yuffie stomped her foot.

"Shut yer pie hole, Lassie. We don't wanna die."

"You're a robot, what you worried about?" Yuffie stuck her tongue out at Cait Sith.

"Yuffie, please," Tifa murmured, frowning. "We don't want to make things more unstable than they already are." She pointed up.

Yuffie pulled a sheepish expression. "Oops," she whispered.

"Oops," Vincent echoed in a bland voice.

Cloud hid a smile and looked around. "Could probably cut through that pathway over there," he said, nodding towards a snaking path that weaved upwards. It looked treacherous and slippery. They'd have to literally cut into the ground to give them something to grip onto.

"And just how d'you propose we keep our feet from going ass over head?" Cid questioned, pausing to blow on his gloved hands. "We ain't wearing skates."

Cloud frowned. "We'll cut a path," he explained, right hand moving to the hilt of his sword.

"Sounds risky to me," Barret replied. "If a loud noise makes those wobble like a bowl full o' jello, then what's hacking the ground gonna do?"

Cloud’s eyes narrowed, he wanted to get moving, not stand around talking. "You think a giant icicle'll get the best of me?" No way.

Tifa stepped forward as Barret opened his mouth to protest further. "How about we use the right tools?" She held up a hooked wall hammer and smiled.

Cloud ducked his head and smiled. "Right. The right tools for the right job." He'd been too hasty for no reason. He held his hand out for it.

Tifa tilted her head to the side and walked past him. "If we're worried about disturbing the area then someone lighter should go."

A dart of panic hit him in the chest. Familiar words, a similar situation. Wasn't it? "Maybe Red should look for a safer path."

"Hmm?" Red XIII stepped forward, flame on his tail flickering and casting a glow against the cave walls.

"Huh? Now we're not in a rush?" Yuffie looked from Cloud to Tifa.

"No, we are." Tifa shook her head. "Let's get this done quick." She shot everyone a reassuring smile and stepped forward.

"Tifa-" Cloud bit back his protests. "Be careful."

Tifa nodded. "No probs."

~*~*~

The first few strikes to break up the glassy surface went well. Tifa paused after each one, waited for the ominous shaking overhead to still, then struck again.

As a back up, Cloud still sent Red, Cait Sith and Vincent along another path to see if it looped around to where they needed to go.

"Slow and steady, T, you got this!"

Yuffie's quiet cheerleading set Cloud's teeth on edge. He opened his mouth several times to tell her to shut up, then stopped. She wasn't hurting anyone and was in fact helping keep Tifa motivated. His muscles still clenched like he was the one doing the job. The urge to hover and watch her back was strong. He knew she could handle herself and the danger was minimal.

"There." Tifa sat back and wiped her brow. "I think that's enough." She turned and gave everyone a thumbs up.

"Good job, girl," Barret said, nodding. He slapped Cloud on the back. "See? Ain't nothing to worry about." He followed up with a victory fanfare.

Cloud's eyes widened. He was already moving as the echoing crack died down. "Watch out!"

Tifa's eyes widened and she looked up as though in slow motion.

Snatching her by the hand, Cloud pulled Tifa out of the way as a giant icicle crashed into the ground where she'd been standing. "You okay!?"

"Shit, Tifa!" Barret took a step forward, then stopped. "Oh shit!"

The ground crumbled.

Everyone leapt towards the walls as a hole opened up.

"Whose dumbass idea was this!?" Cid dug his spear into a wall and grabbed Yuffie's wrist, as Barret leapt to a ledge and clung one handed.

Cloud and Tifa backed up towards the pathway. "Damnit."

"Is everyone all right?" Tifa let go of Cloud's hand and took a step forward. Her foot slipped and she gasped.

"Tifa!" Cloud dove for her as she slid towards the edge of the hole. Wrapping one arm around her waist, he spun them around and drew his sword.

"Cloud! Tifa!" Yuffie stretched a hand towards them as they fell.

"Shit! Toss 'em a goddamn line!" Cid fumbled for the rope attached to his waist.

Cloud slammed his sword into the wall and it cut into the icy surface, slowing their descent. He grunted with effort and felt his grip slip. The buster sword looked dingy reflected in the glacier. The blade hadn't dug in enough. It was sliding. It groaned with effort along with Cloud.

"I can't reach!" Tifa clung to him with one arm and stretched as Cid threw the end of the rope. As she swung out she lost her grip. "Cloud!"

"No!" Cloud let go of the sword and dropped.

~*~*~

Everything hurt, but something warm and soft brushed against his face. Cloud grimaced and opened his eyes. "Tifa?" She looked upset.

"Oh, Cloud." She looked ready to cry. The tight hug took him by surprise.

"What's wrong?"

"You're bleeding...and...you were mumbling."

What did I say? He put his hand to his head and drew it back. His vision blurred. Blood? Just like-? Pain lanced his skull.

"Cloud?" Tifa drew back and looked at him with concern. "What can I do?"

The soft look in her eyes calmed the ache. Words slipped past his lips without being filtered. "Stop falling."

"Huh?" She tipped her head to the side.

He pulled her back into his embrace and repeated the statement. "Stop falling." It hurt too much. He couldn't bear to see it. Not if he couldn't catch her. Still not good enough.

"Sorry. I'll try not to worry you so much."

Her arms around his shoulders felt nice. As did the soft puff of her breath near his ear that disturbed his hair. He could stay like this forever with Tifa beside him. Cloud closed his eyes and breathed deep. "Tifa-"

The sound of grit and ice particles sent him into hyper awareness. His eyes shot open and he was rising to meet the potential threat, pushing Tifa behind him with one hand and reaching for his sword with the other. His hand gripped air. "Shit." The buster sword was lodged somewhere high out of reach. He'd lost it. I was supposed to look after it. Another pain in his head had him gasping in pain.

"You're still alive, then." Vincent landed in front of them and the buster sword hit the ground soon after. "This yours?"

"Yeah." His answer didn't sound sure to his ears, but he shoo his head and dismissed it.

"You're bleeding."

"Yeah." He dug in his pocket for a potion.

Tifa picked up his sword and held it out. "Cloud, maybe we should find a weaponsmith soon?"

He frowned and shook his head. "It's fine." Looking around, he tried to get his bearings. "How'd you find us, and where are Cait Sith and Red?"

"We split up. They're helping the others."

He nodded. "Guess we should find a route." His gaze went to Tifa and his brows rose. "Something wrong?"

She didn't react, the slowly shook her head. "No, it's fine." As she walked past him towards a path Vincent uncovered, Cloud couldn't help but wonder if those words sounded as fake as when he said them.

#final fantasy 7 remake #cloud strife #ff7r #ffviir #cloti #tifa lockheart #final fantasy 7r #final fantasy viir #final fantasy 7 remake fanfiction

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