#green sign might mean slime | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

anniebear-92 · 1 year

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Had this pop into my head while I tried to fall asleep last night. However as per usual this snarky blonde boy bullied his way into my thoughts and here we are. 😤

Reverse Nightmare comfort: Bakugo has had reoccurring nightmares since his run in with the slime villain and you are just the person to help him through it. Childhood best friends / neighbors.

Pairing: Bakugo x reader.

Warnings: SFW, fluff, nightmare comforts.

I decided there will be two endings so you can read both or the one you prefer. One platonic and one romantic. Reader is referred to have a super strength quirk. Brief mention the reader is female but mostly GN.

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“Oi.”

You grumbled as the deep voice cut into your precious dreams, curling around your pillow tighter.

“Oi!” A finger jabbed into your side, earning your full attention now. Swiveling your head over a shoulder to come face to face with your ash blonde neighbor.

“Kats? What are you doing here at… 2 am?”

He huffed in response while lifting the covers, unceremoniously shoving you from your comfortable position. Many protests and the flailing of limbs, you found yourself on the cold side of the bed with two strong arms locking around your waist. Katsuki buried his face into the back of your neck, the soft puffs of breath tickling your skin.

Inhaling deeply you ran your fingers over the fine hair along his forearm, knowing your best friend needed a moment to gather his thoughts before he would finally tell you what was wrong. When you heard him shuffling behind you, it was a clear sign he was ready.

His words were muffled by your skin but being fluent in Bakugo, you heard him loud and clear.

“Had a fucking nightmare.”

Continuing to run your fingertips over his arms you waited for him to elaborate, or not. Leaving it entirely up to him.

“Stupid slime villain.” These words were lower, almost as if he did not mean for you to hear them. A sad smile crossed your lips as you remembered that day clearly yourself as if it were yesterday.

——— flashback to that day

You were furious. Absolutely, undeniably furious. Your so called best friend had just told one of your closest friends to unalive himself. All over not having a stupid quirk?!

You had left Izuku standing by the small Koi pond outside the school and were currently scouring the alleyways that you know your soon to be ex friend frequented. He was going to get a piece of your mind regardless of wither he wanted it or not.

“Hey Kaachan let’s go to the arcade today!” Your ears perked at the sound of your childhood friend’s nickname, making a line for the alley entrance. “Yeah whatever.”

Hearing that recognizable gravelly voice solidified that he was indeed just around the corner. Rounding said building, you were met with the spikey, haired boy and his two forever shadows.

“Oh hey! It’s L/N again, come to yell at us?” The boy with the creepy fingers waived at you with a snicker. As you passed, your arm shoved him out of your way a bit harshly that he crashed into the trash cans behind him. They stepped further away as you locked eyes with those vermillion that were widening in shock.

“You!” You growled in his face, gripping his collar and lifting him easily off his feet against the brick wall behind him. You began a screaming match with him about your green haired friend and how disgusted with him you were.

Finally dropping his collar and returning him to his feet he bit his tongue to hold back the venomous words he wanted so badly to spit. However you on the other hand had no filter at this point. “I don’t know how we are even friends right now!”

The words bit his heart as his foot shot out and kicked a nearby bottle, your e/c eyes shooting him the nastiest glare he’d ever seen on you. Meeting you back with his own when his lips parted to speak, however the voice that came next was definitely not his own.

“Wow girlie, you’ve got some strength in you! I think you’ll do, maybe even take down All might with this power!”

The bubbling voice sounding of someone drowning chilled your soul as both of your eyes locked on the growing green mass spilling out of the bottle Katsuki had kicked a moment before. The cap had busted off, releasing whatever villain now stood? Slithered? Before you.

His large grin widened as large tendrils wrapped themselves around your arm and wrists, a shriek leaving your throat as it began dragging you towards it. Your strength failed out of terror, having never faced a real villain in your life. Two large hands gripped your waist, yanking you free from the slime, only to be captured in the writhing mass themselves.

“No! I didn’t want you brat!” You turned to find Katsuki being pulled into the dripping slime of the villains body, your words failing you as he squirmed and let off explosions in the means to escape. “Well, you’re powerful too! What are they feeding kids nowadays? No matter, I’ll take you instead!”

(You all know what happens next, Izuku rushes in, all might saves the day. If you don’t.. what you doing here? Go watch the show! :| just kiddin back to the story) this is where the platonic / love endings come in. I started with the love, for the platonic scroll down until you see the ~~ again.

———- Romantic route

That day never left either of your minds, night terrors had plagued your mind for months after the event. You truly thought you were going to lose your best friend. Feeling powerless a hero had carried you away as a green haired streak went rushing in.

Your parents had freaked when you returned covered in green goo, only to send you away for the next ten months for hard training with your ex pro-hero grandfather for the UA exam. Leaving Katsuki to deal with his trauma all by himself.

When you had returned for UA’s entrance exam, you would’ve thought Katsuki saw a ghost upon locking gazes with you. You had grown up during the time away, filled out with age and training. You were even more beautiful to him now than ever before, especially now that you were back.

He had been stuck to your side like glue ever since, hence the fact the boy was laying in your bed, wrapped like an anaconda around your limbs.

“You wanna talk about it?” Your voice a whisper as he turned his head, cheek pressing to your shoulder. “No.”

You squirmed in his arms, turning so you were face to face with him. His beautiful red eyes were currently closed, frown lines and angry eyebrows still visible as you smoothed them out with a thumb. He let out a long sigh, face relaxing as you retracted your hand. Those gorgeous crimson eyes opened, showing the small gold flecks that encircled his dark pupils. They reflected in the sunlight that most people didn’t know existed save you who were privy enough to get close enough to see them.

“Better?” Your voice soft as his eyes followed suit, gazing into your own e/c ones that shown nothing but admiration for the boy.

“Yes.”

A soft smile graced your lips as he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against your own, the tips of your noses brushing just so softly.

“I thought I was going to lose you that day.”

Your eyes raised to his, soft and sincere. You gave him a soft smile before poking his chest “It’ll take a lot more than that to get rid of me.”

He grinned, slapping your hand away.

“You’re an idiot you know.”

His words caused you to frown, eyebrows dropped to question the audacity this boy had at this moment. “How so?”

His own lips spread in a small smile as his hand lifted to trail his fingertips up and down your spine. Shivers ran through your body as he leaned even closer to twitch his nose back and forth against your own, earning a giggle from you.

“Because you continue to put up with me.”

A puff of air left your nose as you pressed your finger against his forehead, pushing him back softly. “You’re my best friend. How couldn’t I put up with you?”

He rolled his eyes, still not a frown line in sight.

“What did you do for the nightmares while I was gone?”

He turned his eyes towards the ceiling, a soft pink tint coating his cheeks. “I slept in your bed.”

A laugh escaped you as his turned darker, the frown lines back though not as deep. “You would crawl out your window, hop across the wall to crawl into mine, then sleep in my bed while I was gone?”

He nodded before turning his attention back to you, fingers trailing a thumb over the apple of your cheek. “It smelled like you.”

You smiled brightly, arms wrapping around his torso to pull him close. Resting your cheek against his warm chest, listening to the pitter pat of his heart beat.

“Y/N. I love you.”

Your breath caught, head pulling back as you looked up to catch his face buried into your hair. The tinge of red coated the tip of his ears, a smile that you couldn’t control broke onto your face.

“I love you too Katsuki.”

You listened as his own breath caught, chest stiffening as if he did not expect your returned feelings. He pulled away, eyes meeting yours with more adoration than you had ever seen in them before.

“You do?” Your nod brought his own wide smile, your favorite one that he only showed when you were around.

His fingers curled around your jaw, thumb pressing softly to angle your face towards his as he leaned in slowly to press his soft lips against yours. You had imagined this moment for a long time and it surely did not do it justice as he kissed you more gently than you ever thought possible for Katsuki Bakugo.

He pulled back after a moment, brushing a soft tear from your cheek. “Now go to bed. I’m tired.” He scolded as if he wasn’t the one who had woken you with his own issues.

You patted his cheek before turning in his arms that constricted, holding you tightly against the heat of his body.

“Good night Kats.”

“Good night Angel.”

Needless to say, Katsuki got the best of sleep in a long time, no nightmares to return that night. Instead of falling asleep holding a pillow that still held your scent, he got to hold you.

~~~~~~Platonic route

That day never left either of your minds, night terrors had plagued your mind for months after the event. Your parents had freaked when you returned covered in green goo, only to send you away for the next ten months for hard training with your ex pro-hero grandfather.

Leaving Katsuki to deal with his trauma all by himself. Upon returning for the start of UA he had stuck to you like glue, his best friend returned to him finally.

Katsuki shifted to pull away from you, his hands loosely holding you still as you continued to rub his arm.

“Feeling better?”

He nodded softly as you smirked “I can’t hear your brain rattling. Use your words.”

He snorted, a hand raising to slap the back of your head. “Hey! This is what I get for comforting you after a nightmare?” His lips curled into a smirk as he shifted you closer once more.

“Shut up and go to sleep.” You huffed in response, crossing your arms and grumbling obscenities at his expense.

“Oi.”

You paused, turning just your head to give him the stink eye. His own were closed, not a frown line to be found.

“I love you.”

You smiled, tapping your finger against his nose before turning back away, knowing full well your friend didn’t mean in a romantic kind of way. Though he voiced his feelings rarely, when he did… You could feel it.

“I love you too dummy.”

Katsuki snuggled back into your neck, getting the best sleep in awhile with his best friend as a snuggle buddy.

—————

Sorry if this is terrible it kept me up for awhile until I wrote it down. 😅

#bakugo imagine #bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #mha bakugo katsuki #bakugo drabble #bakugo x reader #bakugou x y/n #bnha x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #mha x reader #mha bakugo #childhood friends #childhood friends to lovers #izuku midoriya #platonic #nightmare comfort

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misirosekisiro · 6 months

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I Got Reincarnated as a Slime (Dark version) 1-3

ก��รแต่งด้วย AI นี่มันดีอยู่อย่าง คือปรกติผมมีไอเดียเยอะ แต่ไม่ค่อยมีอารมณ์ ยิ่งขาดอารมณ์ยิ่งอธิบายยาก เรื่องนี้ถึง AI มันจะชอบพาเรื่องออกทะเล แต่มันอธิบายได้ละเอียดดี ละเอียดเกินความจำเป็นด้วยซ้ำ และในฐานะ AI มันออกจะขาดความจำเกินไปมาก ๆ อยู่ดี ๆ คนที่ตายไปแล้วก็มาโผล่ อยู่ดี ๆ ก็มีตัวละครโผล่มาจากไหนไม่รู้ มั่วไปหมด เอาจริง ๆ เหนื่อยแทบเท่าเขียนเองทั้งเรื่องนั่นละ และอย่าถามหาว่า system หายไปไหนนะ โผล่มานิดเดียว ไม่ใช่แค่ AI ลืม คนเขียนก็ลืม

Chapter 1

It's start just an very ordinary day, Wataru Yanagisawa, Highschool boy walking to his school. He stop atroad crossing point waiting for green signal.

Suddenly, without warning he saw flash light from truck, suddenly crash towards him, sending him flying backwards into the streetlight pole. And then darkness...

Wataru opened his eyes. Where am I? This isn't my bedroom nor my house! Instead, he found himself lying within the midst of a shadowy and eerie woodland filled with thick foliage, tall grass, moss-covered rocks, fallen logs scattered here and there amidst decaying vegetation – all indications suggesting a strange and haunting place far removed from civilisation. How did I get here?

Wataru thought, trying to piece together what had happened to land him in such a bewildering situation. The sun cast its golden rays through gaps in the trees overhead, illuminating the ground around him ever so slightly. Shifting uncomfortably, he sat up straight, feeling oddly refreshed despite his ordeal. There was no trace of the incident he recalled happening back on Earth - not even a lingering bruise to remind him of it. It seemed almost as though nothing more than a dream had occurred before waking up here.

However, something felt different about him—a sensation unlike anything he could recall experiencing previously. It wasn’t until he moved his hands across his chest that he discovered why: instead of finding smooth skin, he encountered a cold, wet surface that rippled subtly against his touch.

He couldn't believe his own eyes when he looked down and realized that he had transformed into some sort of gelatinous creature! Panicking, he frantically tried to regain control over his limbs, only to find them twisting and contorting beyond recognition. In desperation, he attempted to stand upright once again, only to feel his entire form shift and flow like liquid onto the floor below.

"What happen to me!!!" Wataru thought. Then another sound answerd in his head.

"Answer, You have transport to another world. Now your species was Morphing slime"The voice that answered in his head was a man's voice, speaking smoothly tone like a machine.

"Oh god, what does this mean?" Wataru cried aloud. "How do I change back?"

There was silence, and then came another response in his mind.

"Answer, It's have no information right now about how to transform your species back to human species."

Wataru sighed deeply, feeling defeated.

"But as a morphing slime, you have an ability to take over others creatures or humans' body." That voice still answer in flat smooth tone.

A little bit relieved, yet terrified about his current predicament, Wataru began searching his surroundings for any sign of life. As he traversed deeper into the woodlands, he grew increasingly aware of the sinister atmosphere engulfing everything around him. It was clear to him that he needed assistance, but would anyone be able to help someone like him? Would they accept his existence as a living being? Or worse, would they see him as a threat due to his bizarre abilities?

These questions swirling in his mind, Wataru slowly made his way further into the heart of the woods. He heard rustlings among the leaves above him and noticed small rodents scampering away. Despite the mounting fear, Wataru took comfort in knowing that at least he wasn't entirely alone. However, the deeper he ventured, the stronger became his desire to come across another intelligent creature he might interact with, perhaps share stories or learn from one another.

After a while, he encounter with a wolf.

Without thinking twice, he instinctively tries to seize control of the animal's body.His arms reach out toward the tiny figure, attempting to wrap themselves around the warm furry frame. To his astonishment, he feels his tendrils extending, seeking purchase upon the wolf cub's flesh. Finally he move fast warp around wolf body with his slime body. He seek the hole that he can inject himself inside. Then he inject himself inside wolf's mouth, during he pour himself in, he start to melt anything inside wolf's body, muscle, organ or even wolf's skeleton. It's take not so long that only wolf skin left on the floor. It's like a wolf hide that got big oval abdomen, which Wataru body gather inside wolf skin. Then Wataru start to extent his body to every limb of wolf. Start with wolf's legs, his slime body filling in wolf skin's legs.

As his feet stretched forward and wrapped around the hooves, his fingers extended outward from his palms and clenched into sharp claws. With each motion, his muscles pulsated and contracted, pushing outwards as the slimy substance continued to grow thicker. After completely reshaping both forelegs, he focused on the rear ones, making sure they too were strong enough to support his weight and facilitate movement. Once completed, he allowed his upper torso to expand outwards, forming two massive shoulder blades that stood proudly along either side of his newly acquired spine.

The transformation process was near completion as his neck elongated, allowing the now powerful jaws to open wide. Unlike the delicate structure of a regular wolf, these teeth bore resemblance to those of a wild carnivore. Rising up to stand on all fours, Wataru tested his newly adapted strength by flexing the bulging muscles beneath his sleek, dark coat. He gazed intently at his reflection in the murky water nearby, marveling at the incredible feat he'd accomplished.

Transformed fully into a powerful creature, Wataru now possessed remarkable agility, speed, and endurance, characteristics that would serve him well as he navigated this hostile new terrain. Yet, there remained one significant concern — how exactly was he supposed to adapt to this baffling reality and locate a means to return home? His thoughts turned grim as he considered the possibility of never seeing his family again.

At that moment, the wind picked up, carrying the faint whispers of distant voices approaching closer.

The anxiety in Wataru heightened as he crouched low behind the thick undergrowth, concealing himself effectively amongst the lush foliage. Throughout his panicked rumination, Wataru's acute sense of hearing allowed him to discern an unusual pattern emerging from the surrounding flora. Treading carefully and maintaining caution, he managed to intercept three individuals passing through a narrow pathway adjacent to his cover.

Their conversation carried throughout the treetops, piercing the otherwise silent ambiance. Curiosity piqued, Wataru pressed his ear close to the earth to better hear their discussion. The murmurs revealed fragments of personal accounts and plans for a future journey. One of them mentioned joining forces with several guild members for protection purposes, citing numerous dangers lurking within these mysterious lands.

Captivated by their exchange, Wataru hesitantly approached the trio undetected.

Closely observing their movements, he noted their attire consisted primarily of leather armor accented with various accessories, giving off an impression of expertise in combat skills. Their weapons appeared worn and battle-tested, indicating years spent honing their craft. The leader of the group sported a confident demeanor, exuding authority as he directed his comrades with ease. Each member demonstrated proficiency in handling their respective tools of trade, leaving Wataru impressed by their prowess.

As he observed them from afar, he couldn't help but admire their camaraderie and determination to overcome whatever challenges lay ahead. While listening to their discussions, he learned valuable insights regarding the perilous landscape they inhabited, providing essential knowledge for his survival journey.

Nolan, the young warrior leading the group, displayed exceptional skill in swordsmanship and strategizing tactics. Although his features suggested a quiet disposition, his leadership qualities commanded respect from his peers. Beneath his composed exterior, however, lay hidden emotional turmoil, stemming from feelings of isolation and self-discovery. This inner conflict fueled his resolve to protect those closest to him, ultimately driving him towards success in his endeavors.

Meanwhile, Ed, the young healer exhibited an unwavering dedication to preserving the health and vitality of his companions, employing potent herbal remedies and restorative techniques to keep them fighting fit. Though initially reserved, the healer gradually opened up to the group, revealing his innate kindness and empathetic nature.

His gentle touch and compassionate words offered solace amidst the chaos of their dangerous journeys. Notably, it was evident that despite his introverted personality, Ed had found his place within the group, fostering trust between everyone.

Lastly, there was the enigmatic North - a skilled thief whose adeptness in evading traps and disarming opponents rendered him indispensable to the party. Concealed beneath a tight-fitting black mask, his identity remained shrouded in mystery, adding intrigue to the already captivating ensemble. As Wataru watched them interact, he could not help but notice the chemistry shared between North and Nolan, hinting at a deep connection between the pair.

Satisfied with his observations, Wataru decided to follow the group surreptitiously, hoping to gain more insightful information about their objectives and methods.

As the daylight started to fade, the adventurers chose to set camp within the confines of a vast cave opening situated just beyond the woods. Gingerly edging closer, Wataru studied their preparations meticulously, taking note of their routines and rituals.

Ed, the group's healer, diligently prepared meals for the night while the others tended to their equipment, ensuring everything functioned optimally. Meanwhile, Nolan maintained vigilant watch over their surroundings, keenly monitoring potential threats lurking nearby.

Sword in hand, he kept his fellow adventurers safe from harm, demonstrating immense valor and poise even in the most trying circumstances. The sound of crackling fire filled the air, casting a soft glow on the faces of the weary travelers as they sought refuge from the cold evening chill. Within this haven of light and warmth, friendships were solidified, bonding the group together through shared experiences and adversities faced along their arduous journey.

After a long day, finally they decide to take a rest, Nolan will stay as first shift guarding while other sleep.

Everyone else settled down comfortably for the night, reclining against large rocks and fallen tree trunks scattered across the expanse of the cavern floor. Despite exhaustion setting in, conversations among the group members persisted late into the night, reflecting on past exploits and sharing stories of their individual lives back home. Ed, always the consummate listener, absorbed every word spoken with genuine interest, occasionally offering thoughtful commentaries on each tale.

Throughout the night, Wataru witnessed a display of camaraderie and companionship rarely seen outside of familial bonds. These connections formed the foundation upon which they would continue to depend upon during their time traversing this unforgiving land.

The moonlit sky painted the walls of the cavern with a silver sheen, illuminating the room with a calm luminosity. Amidst the rustle of leaves and the screech of nocturnal creatures, the melodic hum of conversation filled the space, creating an atmosphere brimming with life and warmth.

After a few hours, Nolan wake North up to take next shift guard, while he head to rest.

Understanding the importance of such duties, North accepted without complaint, displaying unwavering commitment to his role within the group. Slipping away silently into the darkness, he vanished into the shadows beyond the campfire's reach.

Although tired, Nolan struggled to find sleep. With his emotions spiralling, the warrior felt torn between his desire for companionship and his longing for independence. Despite being surrounded by friends, Nolan often found himself wrestling with internal conflicts that threatened to consume him whole.

His yearning for affection resonated deeply within him, urging him to seek solitude and contemplate the complexities of his emotions. In times of despair, he questioned whether love truly existed, wondering if happiness ever awaited him beyond these tumultuous lands.

Dawn arrived slowly, painting the cavern walls with a subtle hue as rays of sunshise filtered through tiny cracks in the rock formations above. It seemed only fitting that amidst this tranquil environment, Ed would arise before anyone else, eager to greet the morning with renewed energy.

Drawing water from a natural spring flowing beneath the surface, he began brewing a refreshing elixir tailored specifically for each individual's needs. Watching him prepare nourishment for the group, one could almost see his care and devotion radiating from his pores. Every action performed held meaning, conveying an underlying message of concern and friendship toward his companions.

Inside the sheltered alcove nestled deeper within the cavern, Nolan took advantage of this respite from the harsh conditions of the outside world.

Seeking privacy, he delved further into his introspective thoughts, allowing himself to ponder upon the myriad of emotions coursing through his veins. Overwhelmed yet determined, he resolved to confront his fears, knowing full well that facing his demons would serve as a catalyst for growth and self-discovery.

Meanwhile, the sounds of Ed preparing breakfast reverberated faintly through the stone passageways, providing a calming rhythm in contrast to the chaotic storm raging within Nolan's heart.

Engrossed in his meditative state, Nolan allowed the sensual cadence of creation to seep into his consciousness, instilling serenity alongside its culinary aroma. Gradually, this peaceful atmosphere eased his burdened soul, granting him much needed clarity. However, when he glanced around, his gaze came to rest upon the distant figure of North, standing sentry near the entrance of the cavern. Witnessing his loyalty to the group, something stirred within Nolan's chest, awakening an unwanted tenderness.

He could hardly deny the fact that his heart swelled with pride whenever observing North's dedication and bravery. And yet, despite these affirmations, confusion continued to plague his mind – unable to decipher whether his feelings extended beyond mere comradery.

Ed's voice broke the silence, interrupting Nolan's stream of thoughts. "Are you alright?" he asked, his tone laced with genuine concern. Without hesitation, Nolan turned to face him directly, acknowledging the sincerity behind the query.

"Yes," he replied, attempting to mask his vulnerability. "Just lost myself in thought." Ed nodded understandingly, accepting the response while maintaining a look of mild curiosity etched onto his features. "We all have our moments," he offered reassuringly, his expression indicating sympathy mixed with supportiveness.

These simple exchanges provided momentary relief, easing some of the weight bearing down upon Nolan's shoulders. Realizing he couldn't fully articulate his internal struggle, he opted instead to focus on the present task at hand.

Climbing to his feet, Nolan retrieved a bowl containing the nutritious mixture crafted by Ed earlier. Grateful for the sustenance, he thanked the healer graciously. Observing their interactions, Wataru noticed the ease with which they communicated, highlighting the strong rapport developed amongst the party members. Their unity transcended mere teamwork; they were undeniably bound by trust and respect forged through trials encountered together.

While it appeared that Nolan had managed to suppress his inner turmoil, a shadow of doubt still loomed in the peripheries of his conscience. He wondered if his longing for intimacy could ever translate into reciprocal admiration, questioning whether his true desires lay buried beneath layers of fear and apprehension.

North returned shortly afterward, relinquishing control of the post to someone equally capable as himself. Together, the two stood side by side, discussing plans for their impending excursion deeper into the treacherous terrain ahead.

Although initially cautious due to prior encounters with bandits and dangerous wildlife, Nolan remained steadfast in his determination to overcome obstacles. Convincing North to join forces, the pair strategized ways to mitigate risks associated with their perilous undertaking. Trust flourished between them, growing stronger with each challenge conquered.

Wataru observed this dynamic duo from afar, marveling at their compatibility and ability to inspire one another. Understanding the significance of their partnership, he decided not to intervene - choosing instead to let destiny unfold naturally.

After finish their preparation, the party start to move on.

The path was rough and uneven, covered with thorns bushes and muddy parts. Trekking forward, everyone tried hard to avoid slips, falls, or worse accidents. Their physical strength tested, their hearts racing from the effort required to progress forward.

As the journey wore on, fatigue set in, forcing them to stop periodically for brief periods of recuperation. During breaks, Ed would provide refreshments designed to restore vitality levels while ensuring proper hydration.

Drawing on his extensive knowledge of herbs and potent mixtures, he consistently demonstrated unparalleled skill in maintaining health throughout challenging circumstances. This dedication earned him immense gratitude from his fellow travelers, fostering a deep sense of appreciation and reliance among the group.

As they pushed forth into the unknown landscape, occasional whispers about mysterious creatures lurking nearby circulated throughout the ranks. Although tales of ferocity abounded, none dared to speak openly about potential threats.

Instead, they focused on navigating the rugged terrain with precision, carefully mapping routes to minimize risk exposure. Unbeknownst to them, however, danger lurked just beyond the horizon.

Despite the arduous journey, spirits remained high as the party ventured closer towards their destination. Each step taken brought them closer to achieving their goals, bolstering morale and fortifying resolve. Throughout the day, conversations ranged from past experiences to hypotheses regarding what might lie ahead.

As nightfall approached, the group finally reached the threshold of Abandon Village. Its once majestic structures now reduced to crumbling remnants, testament to the ravages of time and neglect. Silhouettes cast eerily against the backdrop of twisted trees and decaying edifices, evoking a haunting ambiance.

Upon entering the village gates, their footsteps echoed softly across the weathered stones, conjuring images of ancient heroes seeking answers amid ruined grandeur. Emboldened by camaraderie, they stepped boldly into the darkness, ready to confront whatever fate may bring.

Exploring the dim alleys of Abandon Village, every corner revealed more wreckage left in the wake of time. Cobwebs blanketing dilapidated buildings served as silent witnesses to days gone by, hinting at stories forgotten yet not completely obliterated.

Chapter 2

Following the adventurer group led by the brave North, Wataru found himself entranced by the sight of Nolan and the enchanting thief interacting during the break. The combination of emotions emitting from both parties piqued his interest significantly. Curiosity grew stronger within him, yearning to understand the depth of their connection better.

The way Nolan looked at North spoke volumes without uttering a single word. It seemed there existed an undefinable bond between them, surpassing mere friendship, perhaps even bordering on romantic inclinations. Wataru became increasingly fascinated by the dynamics developing before his very eyes.

Beneath the moonlit sky, ghostly figures emerged from the shadows. Mesmerised by the ethereal beauty surrounding them, the entire group halted in midstep, captivated by the enigma playing out before their eyes.

With each passing second, suspicion intensified, fueling an almost palpable anticipation. Intrigued by the sudden change in atmosphere, Wataru quietly trailed behind, eager to observe events unfolding organically.

Night birds circled overhead, creating a symphony of dissonant melodies punctuated occasionally by shrill screeches. Moonlight danced off worn surfaces, casting grotesque shapes into the mix. Damp air hung heavy with the lingering essence of secrets unveiling themselves slowly through the mist.

"These ghosts, take no phycical damage!" Ed shout, thrown a holy water vials to both Nolan and North. "Coat your weapon with holy water!"

Nolan instructed, swiftly dipping his sword into the vial handed to him. With calculated movements, he proceeded cautiously toward the spectral apparitions, prepared to engage any imminent threat. Standing beside him, North mirrored his tactics, demonstrating remarkable composure under pressure.

Amidst the chaos, Wataru observed the couple, studying their actions closely. Noticing the confident strides of Nolan and the composed mannerisms exhibited by North, he felt inspired by their resilience.

But ghost is very bad enemy for warrior or theif.

"I will use Blessing Ground to expel them all! It's take sometime, please guard me during that."

Ed start to perform a holy ritual while both companions guarding him.

North's keen senses picked up on something amiss within the shifting shadows – whispers of movement drawing ever closer. Gripping his weapons tightly, adrenaline coursed through his veins as instinct took hold. Nolan's heart raced frantically, his body primed for battle. Their gazes locked, conveying mutual understanding despite being unable to share words aloud.

Meanwhile, Wataru followed suit, staying close enough to watch their actions attentively.

His heart pounding rapidly, the intensity of the situation heightening with each passing moment. Stealthily circling around the edges of the room, he surveyed the area meticulously, making note of any possible entry points for further adversaries.

Emotions ran high as Nolan and North engaged in fierce combat against malevolent spectres. Despite their efforts, several entities breached their defenses, causing momentary panic to grip them. Nonetheless, the pair regained their bearings quickly, adapting their strategy accordingly to nullify the threats.

Ed's body start to glowing. He still close his eyes, whispering a holy spell.

Slowly, he raise hands upwards, forming a circle above the ground. Then he chant sacred mantras, moving slow circles around it. Around him, the atmosphere gradually changes: the chilling wind calms down, becoming gentle. The rain stops falling, leaving only light drizzle remaining.

The holy energy surrounds him, filling up the space. Everyone stand close to him, feeling power flowing around them. And then the transformation begins, spiritual force starts cleanse everything around them, driving away evil spirits.

As the ghosts disappear, the atmosphere becomes less oppressive. Sensing the shift, Nolan and North exhaled simultaneously, relief evident upon their faces. The powerful energy continued to swirl around them, instilling a sense of peace. Almost instantaneously, the divine presence began fading, leaving behind a serenely charged air.

During these intense moments, their bodies were intertwined together, fighting hand-to-hand against supernatural enemies. Both could feel their hearts beat furiously, fueled by fear and desire to protect one another.

"I think this area is cleanse form any spirital monster." said Ed. "Weak monster also will not want to come around a scred ground, at least for tonight. Too bad this spell is comsume too much magical energy."

Said Ed, breathing heavily after performing the holy ritual. "It would take some time to recover my strength. Please continue exploring the village while I rest."

Nolan nodded gratefully, appreciative of Ed's considerate gesture. Together, they carefully navigated the eerie landscape, surveying every corner diligently. Although relieved to have vanquished the immediate danger, unease lingered beneath the surface. The notion of hidden foes remained a constant concern.

North maintained vigilance alongside Nolan, ensuring nothing went unnoticed. Their combined skills proved invaluable, allowing them to work seamlessly as a cohesive unit. Each move was executed with precision, reflecting years of experience honed through countless battles.

Unbeknownst to them, Wataru had been following from a distance, keeping tabs on their progress. Fascination consumed him, compelling him to remain close yet maintaining covertness. Watching the trio interact intrigued him deeply, sparking curiosity about their relationship dynamic.

He couldn’t help but admire their unwavering determination, courageously confronting various perils. Unseen forces seemed to test their resolve repeatedly, posing challenges which demanded fortitude and strategic thinking. Throughout the arduous journeys, trust and respect appeared to bind their alliance firmly. This display of unity inspired Wataru profoundly, stirring feelings of longing for companionship such as what he witnessed amongst the adventurers.

Emboldened by the thought of having someone by his side through thick and thin, in Wataru. the idea of joining forces began to materialise in his mind. However, uncertainty plagued him – should he approach them? Would they accept him? What would become of his own mission to find a means back to Earth? All doubts notwithstanding, Wataru resolved to put forth effort into gaining their trust and eventually earn a place among their ranks.

But its' will never happen, to a wolf, or actually slime like him. He can't even talk! He sigh while watching a far.

His thoughts drift towards the possibility of replacing one of them. Imagine possessing the physical prowess of Nolan, the charm of the mysterious thief, or even the quiet confidence of North. Such desires only served to ignite his fervor further.

Observing the three individuals grow ever closer, Wataru felt envious of their intimate connections. Witnessing their shared experiences and hardships, his longing deepened.

"Let's explore," proposed Nolan, breaking the silence as he gestured towards a nearby structure. The others readily agreed, their enthusiasm infectious. Determined to garner information regarding the source of the haunting, they trudged ahead bravely.

Admiration for their sheer tenacity radiated from Wataru's core.

Unable to quell his growing affinity for the duo, he decided to investigate further. Leaving his concealed position, he approached cautiously, careful not to alert the unsuspecting adventurers. Curiosity piqued, he peered through the windows of the dimly lit building, straining to catch a glimpse of their activities. Patience paid dividends when he finally caught sight of Nolan skillfully handling an ancient scroll, while North expertly interpreted its contents.

Observing their synchronized efforts revealed a harmonious blend of talents—their rapport striking.

Feeling increasingly envious, Wataru contemplated the benefits of bonding with one of them. How wonderful it must be to belong to a partnership such as theirs, sharing triumphs and tribulations. Envy turned to jealousy as he imagined himself experiencing those intimacies firsthand. Longing grew stronger within him, demanding action.

After finish check some surround. They decide it must time to rest. Since the area is safe. They're all can take full rest and continue on explore in the moring.

Ed suggested as they settled themselves comfortably.

Leading the way, Nolan guided his companions to a seemingly abandoned dwelling, offering respite amidst the eeriness of the village. Shrugging off their armor, they shed layers of sweat-soaked clothing, exposing scarred flesh and raw vulnerability.

Within the confines of the house, a faint candlelight illuminated the dusty corners, casting dancing shadows across walls. Its crumbling foundation spoke volumes about the history embedded within these very bricks.

Cracks spread like spiderwebs along the floorboards, providing evidence of past tremors or simply age-induced wear. With little choice but to make do, the trio made themselves comfortable on the creaking furniture.

Nolan chose a worn-out chair beside the crackling fireplace, carved into the wall by unknown artisans eons ago. Closing his eyes, he allowed exhaustion to consume him, seeking solace in dreamless sleep. In contrast, North opted for a lumpy mattress situated near the entrance.

Ed found a room with crumble bed, but it's still good for adventure who always sleep on the cold ground. Left North and Nolan next to lit fireplace.

Chapter 3

Nolan seem sleep, but he actually still not.

His mind drifts back to earlier interactions, replaying them in vivid detail. He remembers North's carefree laughter echoing throughout the forest and the undeniable chemistry between them during their latest escapade. These fleeting memories serve as fuel for his imagination, painting vibrant pictures of tender encounters and passionate rendezvous.

Aware of his growing fascination, Nolan wrestles with conflicting emotions - admiration for North's selfless nature and yearning for more personal involvement.

Unable to suppress his desires any longer, he makes a decision to pursue his aspirations boldly. Reaching out for sleeping North confidentially, he initiates contact with tentative steps. His heart races wildly as anticipation takes hold, awaiting reciprocation or rejection.

North wake up and look at Nolan,

"What up?" He asked.

Confused, North glanced down to see Nolan's hand resting upon his shoulder. Glancing upward, their gaze locked, eliciting warmth and familiarity. As understanding dawned upon North, a flush crept onto his cheeks, indicating an awareness of the situation. Despite initial hesitation, a smile formed on his lips.

Realization struck Nolan as well, acknowledging the mutual attraction that lay dormant until now.

Confidence bolstered, he reached out once again, drawing North into a tender embrace. Passion surged between them, intensifying with each subtle movement. Lips met in a gentle kiss, gradually evolving into something deeper and fiercer. Urgency took hold, leading them to undress one another eagerly. Bodies entangled with ravenous intensity, communicating without words their insatiable hunger for connection. Emotional barriers collapsed under the weight of their desire, unveiling true selves to one another.

Beneath this facade of bravery existed vulnerabilities, insecurities, and fears that only they could understand fully. In their embrace, they sought refuge from external threats while nurturing the sanctuary within. Every touch sent ripples coursing through their bodies, evoking sensations beyond anything either had previously encountered. Subconsciously, Wataru observed the unfolding events with baited breath, envy melding into something more powerful than mere covetousness.

Amidst the chaos of battle and exploration, an unexpected connection bloomed within the hearts of two adventurers. Although distant and unaware of Wataru's presence, his fascination heightened to a point of obsession.

Inspired by the intense passion displayed before him, he determined to form similar bonds of affection despite being unable to express himself verbally. If there were ways to bridge the communication gap, perhaps finding common ground via experiences or interests would suffice. Regardless, this revelatory moment marked a turning point for Wataru.

Observing the couple share intimacy kindled in him an uncontrollable urge to experience a similar depth of emotional attachment. Driven by desire, desire turn to lust, lust turn to envy,

envy turns to desperation. Desperate to belong, craving connection and intimacy just like them. Desperate to taste their forbidden fruit, his curiosity burned hot, leaving no room for reason or logic. His heart raced frantically, blood pumping faster, adrenaline flooding his veins as his sexual appetite grew. And suddenly, he knew what he wanted...

#identity theft #stolen identity #gay #male body suit #male bodysuit #slime

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gumnut-logic · 1 year

Text

Good Numbers

I has new fic! Completed fic! Yay!

This is what used to be called Math. So the first 400 words might be familiar, but it is now completed to its full 1500 words :D So many thanks to all those who commented and encouraged me on that post to complete this one ::hugs you all tight::

It is also a sequel to Play, so apparently I have created another series or AU or something again. You would think out of my genius choices VT Green would be a series by now, but noooo. I have given it thought though and there is an idea...

Many, many thanks to @onereyofstarlight for the help with the math and the ensuing discussion that contributed heavily to the end of this fic.

Warnings for Scott!whump, loving brothers and math things.

I hope you enjoy :D

-o-o-o-

“Scott! Talk to me!”

Virgil sunk his boot into the mud only to have the water well up and over its brim.

Warm, slimy, and god forbid full of things that would be quite happy to either gnaw on him or curse him with a deadly disease.

Thank goodness for his watertight, airtight and everythingtight uniform in situations like these.

That hopefully never happened again.

“Scott, I know you’re there.” He clambered over the remains of a wooden house, now buried in mud and slime, at the very edge of a lahar that had swept most of the village away.

And trapped his brother.

“Goddamnit, Scott, answer me!” He had to be there. Two’s scans had pinpointed him!

There was a moan, barely heard over comms.

“C’mon, Scotty, I’m nearly there. Please talk to me.” His words came out more as gasps as he forced his way through the massive pile of debris. There was only one life sign and it was his brother.

Didn’t mean his was the only body in the mud. Virgil grit his teeth and pushed himself forward.

“V…irg?” Barely a whisper.

Breath rushed out of his lungs. “Good to hear your voice.” He yanked aside the remains of a thatched roof.

Damn.

His brother was caught in a natural gathering point, where the wave of water and mud had pushed some of the village’s buildings into a corner and piled them there. It was clear on scans, but seeing it in reality hurt.

Scott was in that?

He refused to acknowledge the task ahead and the horrible possibilities.

He had Two, her pods, and he was going to get his brother out of…that.

Water filled up his boots as he sunk further into the mud.

“Scott, can you give me a status report?”

He received another groan in answer.

“Report, Thunderbird One.”

“Virg, god…I’m stuck.” There was a sudden edge of hysteria in his wavering voice. “Can’t see. Underwater!”

Shit.

“I’m coming.” He poked hurriedly at his wrist control and directed the module back on Two to assemble a pod and to grab his exosuit.

He missed Gordon. Missed his help, missed his co-pilot, but Gordon was stuck at home recovering and Alan and John were out fishing a tourist liner out of the asteroid belt.

It came down to Virgil.

He dragged himself through grey slush.

The incoherent sounds on the commline, raised his hackles as the pod approached.

“Scott, talk to me.”

A very uncharacteristic whimper was his only reply.

“Scott?”

He clambered into the pod and, throwing up a holographic scan of the pile of debris, began removing the pick-up sticks one by one.

“Virg?” Barely a whisper.

The terror in his name froze Virgil’s heart.

But fortunately his heart wasn’t in his emergency response procedure. He moved without thought, the pod an extension of his body.

“I’m coming.”

He needed to get to his brother.

Water and mud continued to slosh in the distance as the dregs of the lahar continued to drain down the mountain. His failure to shore up the crater lake at the top of the volcano was something he couldn’t face right now.

Save Scott.

Blame later.

The harsh breath on the other end of the commline…

“Scott, count for me.”

“Virgil, I-“

“Count by prime.” The pod claws carefully lifted the remains of another roof off the pile.

“2.” The number was shaky. “3, 5, 7, 11…”

Virgil grunted as the pod strained under the weight of too much. He had to slow down.

Slow down.

“…37, 41, 43, …47,…” His brother’s voice faded on 53.

“Scott! Root of 49?!”

Even injured, there was a slight huff of derision over comms. “7.”

The pod claws lifted off another pile, dripping with mud and water.

“Root 125.”

There was silence a moment, followed by a gasp, and a stronger voice. “11.2.”

One word. “Pi.”

And the numbers rattled across comms, sometimes breathless, but there.

Virgil used the time to climb out of the pod and don his exosuit. He was getting closer, so he needed to be more precise. His heads-up display marked the stressors, the support beams and the outline of his brother buried in muck and water.

I’m coming.

Time became a blur of numbers, mud, and broken buildings.

And problems. “How fast can Thunderbird One make it from Tracy Island to London carrying Thunderbird Four?”

Scott sputtered and drew in a harsh breath.

But the numbers came.

“Three to the moon and back, slingshot trajectory?” These were things his big brother calculated automatically in his head every time they were called out. Sure, they had the computing power, but Virgil knew his brother.

He liked to test himself.

And by this time, Virgil was chanting his own math in his head. Time, structural weight, probabilities of collapse, time, severity of injury, time…

Time was always the most crucial factor.

Scott’s voice began to fade again in the middle of spouting re-entry trajectories.

Nearly there.

He threw a chunk of child’s bedroom across the sullen grey landscape.

“Scott? Zero point nine to infinity does not equal one.”

“Virgil!” It was gasped out. “Goddamnit!” As expected there was much more life in that voice now. “It’s been proven!”

“I don’t care.” A grunt as he finally removed the last of the wooden and palm thatched roofing off the space holding his brother.

And his heart stopped.

Only the very top of Scott’s helmet was visible above water-clogged mud, one gloved hand weakly waving about seeking purchase.

Virgil scrambled to gently lift off the beam holding his brother under.

Hydraulics hissed as Virgil lifted with everything he had.

The beam was airborne and Scott was clawing to the surface, faceplate still covered in mud.

Virgil shed his exosuit, not even acknowledging the crack of wood and wet splat as it dropped behind him. Stepping as lightly as the sucking mud would let him, he slipped over the broken remains of someone’s home and finally reached his brother.

“Sit still.” He gently gripped Scott’s shoulders. The man was gasping as Virgil dragged the underside of his uniform sleeve across his brother’s faceplate, letting light in on a pale face.

Wide blue terrified eyes stared back at him.

Virgil fumbled for his mediscanner, mud in and on everything. The flickering yellow light lit up brightly against the grey sludge.

But numbers bounced back to him. A severe concussion, extensive bruising…he let out a thankful if amazed breath…most of the numbers were good numbers. His brother was in one piece. He didn’t know how the hell that was possible but he thanked whatever fate or deity had shone down favourably on them this time.

In gratitude, he flipped the catches on Scott’s dented helmet and gently slipped it off.

“Virgil.” It was said with breath and no shortage of love.

Virgil responded by pulling him close and they sat there in the mud and slime for a whole second or two.

Relief leaked out of the corner of Virgil’s eyes.

The rush of water and creaking wood were the only sounds.

But they were enough.

The yellow of the pod he had discarded behind him was a single bright spot in the grey haze of post-apocalyptic hell. Two, in the distance beyond, faded into the greenery as much as One’s silver hull did into the haze.

“C’mon, let’s get you out of here.” Virgil’s mud-caked uniform dripped as he stood up and planted his boots as securely as he could.

Scott stared up at him, a single flick of mud on one sweaty cheekbone.

“I’m going to carry you to the pod.” He waited for Scott’s acknowledgement.

“Okay.” Those blue eyes stared up at him, Scott’s lack of decisive movement or even objection so uncharacteristic, Virgil had to hold back pulling out the scanner again.

Virgil reached down and, bending at his knees, slid his arms into the mud and under his brother, scooping him up as carefully as he could.

Scott was a tall man, but he was more lanky than weighty, and while John received all the taunts for being the noodle of the family, honestly Scott was pretty much the same kind of pasta. He just hid it behind big brotherhood.

Virgil stabilised the weight in his arms and Scott let his likely aching head drop onto Virgil’s mostly mud free shoulder.

Mostly.

Holding his brother close, Virgil made his way out of the slush and grief towards the yellow beacon on the shore.

“Virg?”

“Yeah?” He yanked a boot from the suckering mud.

“It does equal one.” Quiet and breathless.

“What?”

“Zero point nine nine to infinity.”

Virgil didn’t have the spare brainpower to roll his eyes. “Does not.’

“It does. Been proven.”

“As I have said on many an occasion, big brother, I don’t care.”

“It does.”

“Doesn’t.”

“Does.”

“Doesn’t.”

“It’s logical.”

“Don’t care.”

“The math is right.”

“Your math is weird.”

“My math is right.”

“You have a concussion.”

“I know.” Scott swallowed, his head almost buried in the crook of Virgil’s neck. “Still right.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Virgil Tracy #Scott Tracy #earth and sky #nuttyfic

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imagi77 · 1 year

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Snow White with a Twist~

What would happen if Snow White was never alone at the Cottage on that Fateful morning? I do this to myself all the time~ thinking of different paths a story could take... but this one is special to keep for me, because its based on a dream I once had. Trust me, an actual dream... if the boulder had fallen the OTHER direction. I do hope you enjoy~ :)

There was a supposedly timid knock on the door upon a sudden.

“Is anyone home?” came an all new, cracked voice.

Snow White instantly startles at the sound. “Oh dear!” she gasped, alerting Grumpy nearby, who was carving.

“I knew my corns were right~” he grumbled, instantly dropping the block, going straight to the girl’s side. “Get away from the window~”

“Grumpy, no... it is only an old lady~” Snow White remarked, dearly confused.

“I have some apples, that would make the menfolks mouths waterrrrr~” cooed this old, strange voice.

“Old lady, gah! You, a princess, had told us that she were lookin' for ya, I sure ain't lettin' up. Under the stair, get - Now…"

“Oh Grumpy~ I-... I trust you, but please please, do be careful~”

“Whatever ye might hear, do not come out -- ye hear me?”

“I do~ please come back.” the sweet Princess cooed.

To his surprise, she softly took his hand. It was an action that melted his old heart, just like before from that mere peck on the head.

“I -- aye -- I will, Princess…” he promised her, gruff and sincere to the lady before he went through the back way with his pickaxe.

“Sellin' apples, what do ya take us fer? There ain't no orchard 'round here on the seventh…"

He silently sneaked along the side of the cottage, peeks to see this hunched over hag in a black robe.* As wrinkled as an old boot, I see...

Some of the birds who felt the danger to all softly twittered at him from the pines. “Ah, yer onto her too, heh? Figures. Knew those fools be too trustin' for leavin'... The mine can wait, but egh~!”

Looking over, he saw a bucket of water and fair few pine cones...

The Hag seemed to believe that the princess was all alone but apparently the cottage was quiet. The girl was smarter than she thought. Although smarter than those men who left her alone for her picking... or so she thought.

Something sharp hit her right on the head, that was so sharp that it made her drop of her basket of apples. They all rolled about on the ground in different directions... the one she favored rolled at the feet of one lone Dwarf…

The Hag looked stunned to see one of the Little Men, when she thought they all had left for that Mine. But one did not…

“Oh, it is a little man. A beastly little man~” she seethed with hatred and disappointment.

Grumpy’s eye caught onto the blood red apple that rolled close to him. Something about it roused the worry in the birds and the squirrels, warning him to not touch it. The hag seemed to be unhinged, eyeing the specific fruit, trying to look kindly and sweet. Grumpy sharply winked, a sign that he was on edge. He had his pickaxe set and held tight.

“Yer trespassin’.” he warned.

“N-now be kind to ol’ granny. I-I was just seeing if you wanted to try one of my apples. Would you like one?”

“I ain’t that stupid.” he snapped. “Yer on Dwarven land, and ye need to leave. Don’t care what you mean by it, we want nothin’ — Git! Or meet my pick!”

The Hag seemed to snarl, eyeing the red apple near him and he picked up on that right away. He took the back end of his pick and smashed the red fruit into pieces. The Hag screamed out in rage. As he feared, there was green slime slipping out of the pieces of white apple. Slime leaked around on the grass, killing a patch instantly. Grumpy jumped at the sight, realizing fully.

“Poison!”

Inside the cottage, the poor sweet Princess, Snow White listened to what was going on outside. Covering her mouth, tears welled up in her eyes… yet she had to keep quiet for Grumpy… He was so brave. He truly did care for her. Just as brave as the Huntsman who told her to run into the woods… Where she was protected…

“So smart, aren’t you, little Dwarf~?” she heard a change in the Hag’s voice. It sounded deranged. “I know you are hiding her. You do not know who you are dealing with, you little fool!”

“Ye want her, come get her…” she heard Grumpy’s threat. His voice was different too. Somehow, it felt like the Huntsman had returned.

There was a thrash when the old Hag attempted to throw a stone at him; one he easily dodged before she tried to run. Foolhardy, he charged after her as soon as there came the chorus of charging fellow Dwarfs coming from the glen, among a herd of deer and those birds, and squirrels.

Doc, Happy and Bashful were first to charge out, seeing their comrade take first charge before they all clambered to follow. Chasing after the terrible disguised Hag toward this barren mountain side. As the sun became hidden behind darkened clouds, there came a mighty bellow of thunder. Doc and Happy saw their dear charge open the door in fear…

“Princess!” they cried out to her, running up in tears of relief that she was unharmed.

“Oh, Happy! Doc! Oh!” Snow White wept, embracing the two in sobs.

“Are you ha-harmed, my dear!? Doc’s voice naturally trembled in her ear.

“No~ no, I am not! Grumpy, he-he chased the old woman away~ He told me to stay inside…”

“And inside, you will say-stay! Happy, guard her well~”

“Not movin’ an inch, Doc~” Happy nodded.

As for the rest of the Dwarfs, they were not letting this go. As Grumpy was first on the climb, his brethren followed quick, throwing whatever they could find at the fleeing Hag. She tried to climb, higher and higher, even as the rain fell harsh and sharp upon the rocks.

“There she goes! Don’t let her get away, men!” Grumpy cried out as they soon reached the nearest peak where she found herself trapped by a tight ledge looking over the valley below.

“Watch out for that rock!!” Doc cried, just in time for them to duck and cover as rocks began to roll down.

“She’s pushing them all on us, get aside - Aside!” Sneezy cried.

“Surround her, surround her!”

“You insufferable little fools!!” they heard that Hag seeth at them from above. “You think you can catch me! The Fairest in the Land! You cannot protect her forever, None of you! Follow me, if you dare!” this crazed Witch kept cackling to the point that she could easily fall.

Grumpy, being the farthest ahead, had his eyes set on the mighty boulder that was beginning to teeter over them… Her shadow could be seen as lightning began to threaten the ledge. He was determined, seeing her distracted.

“I’ll get ya! I’ll get ya! I will crush your bones!” she cackled, as Grumpy was first to reach the highest rock.

To the horror of the five other little men, there was a flash of lightning that struck at the feet of the Hag. All it took was a blink… A single moment passed and there came a shrill scream that faded into the billowing thunder’s roll…

The Dwarfs were all too frazzled for a moment as the massive stone at the peak was teetering dangerously over them. All it took was a moment until it began to roll down the mountain side. Doc lost sight of Grumpy, however~

“Aside, men! Aside!” he cried as the boulder rolled quick.

Sneezy, Bashful, Sleepy bounded to the safest spots they could find aside to get out of the way. Dopey dove between two rocks as the thing sped down in a tumble all the way to the bottom.

There was a bone chilling sound that Happy and the Princess could plainly hear from the cottage… A crumbling roar as the boulder landed deep into the mossy ground, that was so heavy that the ground shook from its might… Soon, all there could be was the sound of drumming rain…

Among the rocks, the four all cautiously climbed from their hiding, breathless. Doc had to shove some rocks in order to free himself… His spectacles were missing but other than that, he was only fairly bruised.

“Men? Men! All right?” he called up to them. “Bound - Sound off~ Dopey, where are ya?” he feared but was glad to see the mute youngin’ gladly climb his way down with a plop beside him.

“Can’t believe she tried to smash us like grapes…” Sneezy panted, sniffling.

“She fell~ Could hear her scream all the way down…” Bashful shivered. “She’s gone…”

“Fool- Good riddance~” Doc gave a curt nod. “Never mess with the likes of us, I say… Right, Grumpy?”

There was no response. There was no sign or sight of Grumpy… Not even close to them.

“Grumpy?” Doc began to feel frantic.

The others gasped.

“Thought he’d be~ He was at the top…” Sleepy uttered, sputtering.

“At the — No no, it can’t be… C-come on, come~!”

After hearing that terrible collision, Snow White could not bear it any longer and ran out into the rain, quick.

“Please, keep my friends safe — They are so kind and so good, please let no bad happen…” she prayed, tearfully aloud despite Happy’s protests.

“My lady! Princess! Please, come back~”

When they reached the bottom of the mountain side, Doc and Bashful returned up to the top where Grumpy was last seen, frightened that he may have taken the fall with the Hag as well. There was a small flat stone that they almost missed where a crimson tunic caught their gaze. Bashful gasped so loud that he had to cover his mouth to keep from crying out… “D-d-d-Doc?” he stammered… heartbreak was evident.

Doc was speechless when there, before them, was Grumpy, lain in the rain on that flat rock… as still as stone and doused. His cap was gone, he was so laxed with a sort of rare, cold calm over his face… it was enough to chill the two down to their core.

“Grumpy!” Doc sobbed, immediately jumping down to his side. “… grumpy?” he softened then, gently nudging Grumpy’s shoulders. With care too… because there was a deep cut that he could see now that he was close… on Grumpy’s right arm. “It’s me, Grumpy… please, speak to me…” Doc trembled.

It was like a spring song to them when Grumpy’s face soon tensed up after an eternal minute, and moaned~ waking up to one of the worst headaches known.

“y’mind? Ah~ stop pettin’ me. I ain’t a shot doe…” he weakly snapped at Doc.

“… you kinda look like one…” Bashful laughed through his tears.

Grumpy sharply winked as he tried to rise up, against their wishes.

“Ray - I mean stay down, stay down, you took quite the blow from that boulder.” Doc advised.

“I can talk, can’t I? And-and Snow… Snow White. Is-is she?”

“She’s all right~ Safe a-and - and sound. Thanks to you.”

Upon hearing that, Grumpy’s knees buckled and he had to lean down again, clutching his right arm, tight. “…a fine kettle of fish~!”

“Just sit down, you warthog.” Doc scoffed. “Bashful… Go and fetch the men. Tell em’ all’s well. Might need some help to get down.”

Snow White was relieved to have four of the Seven Dwarfs all come to her side, all shocked and tired, of course. Three were missing…

“Where are they? What’s happened to them…?” she asked, emotional.

“That old witch is gone, good lady~ She took a long fall…”

“… Grumpy. He knew something would go wrong today.” she feared.

“Sure glad he stayed behind… If somethin’ to ya, we~ we wouldn’t know what to do. We all love ya.” Sneezy got all misty as he spoke, rubbing his eyes. Dopey tried to hug him only to get batted away. “Oh stop it, it’s just my hayfever!”

“I prayed for all of you yesterday… that you’ve been so kind to me. And it all came true… All of you are the best I’ve ever had.”

One appeared from above, climbing down with care and haste that sent chills of anticipation to the group. It did not look good…

“Bashful! Doc and Grumpy… where are they?” Happy worried.

“At the top! Grumpy got hit somethin’ fierce, but he roused up.” Bashful explained, and the Princess shuddered. “He got hurt mighty bad~ We need some help to get him down…”

“This is my specialty~!” Happy piped up, determined. “Lead me to ‘em!”

“Oh! Oh Grumpy! Do be careful, please!” Snow White stammered.

She did not dare to go back to the cottage just yet because she had to be sure all of the Dwarfs were back, safe. Her little warm heart calmed when she saw Happy and Doc help Grumpy down to them… She ran to him as he was helped down and took her own red cloak off and covered him with it.

“… I- - don’t~ don’t cover me with that~” he tried to retort, but he was too weak to press it again. “ — f’rget it…”

“You are cold as ice…” her sweet voice was an honest relief. “… you saved me, Grumpy…”

“Told ya to stay inside the house. ‘Course y’didn’t~fine by me…”

“… you did promise me you will come back. I wanted to make sure you did.”

“Well. Aye, I ain’t agin that…” Grumpy’s voice laxed more, as he felt warm in her embrace with his fellows gathered around him.

He felt a strange dizziness as his arm sharpened with a stabbing pain — Dizzy and worn, Grumpy rested in the Princess’s warm, gentle arms. Everyone’s voices faded from him, as did the thunder.

Inside the dry, warm cottage of the Seven Dwarfs, with the Wicked Queen gone and done for… there was a quiet that came over the sweet little home in the Glen. There, the Princess Snow White took it on herself to stay at her friend’s side as he regained his strength, along with the six other little men who sought it important to keep sharp guard over the Glen. Never had there ever been a safer place since…

#snow white and the seven dwarfs 1937 #disney movies #classic disney #The Seven Dwarfs #the evil queen #Disney Villains #Ideas #Fanfictions #Adventure #Fairy Tales

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the-grove · 1 year

Text

PRINCESS POKEMON TEAM TIME!!

Hi hi hi, Lets do this gonna talk about what my team would be/ Alright are you pumped? I'm pumped. . Lets go

1) Gastrodon (water/ground)

They are silly little slug slime babies. I love them. They have been on multiple pokemon teams of ours through the years. My preferred form is the east sea version, but the west sea version isn't bad either. I just think blue, yellow, ad green flow better, and like the "Horns" and the little flappys on the back better on east side. I think if the stripes on west side were a different color I think I would like it abit more but i like pink and brown as a color combo it's neat. ALSO a fun fact Gastrodon was apart of the artwork Pokemon released to celebrate the Year of The Bull! so does that mean it's a sea cow? The world May never know!!!

NUMBER 2) Goodra!!!!! (dragon)

The goomy line is my absolute favorite I think although it has a contender coming up somewhere down the sline(slime line, okay the other mon isnt slime related but I thought it would be fun). Goodra just has that big cartoony dragon vibe that I love so much. But its also so round and shaped, they look cuddly! Not to mention that Goomy its first stage is based off a classic JRPG slime more. So if Goodra didn't exist this spot would probably go to Dragonite, I just perfer the soft cuddly but still powerful dragons as oppossed to the super serious looking ones. Dragonite is a a valid and great evolution to dragonair people are just haters. (sorry for my dragonite tangent)

NUmero Tres! Flygon (Ground/dragon)

It's another dragon with a bug asthethic. How wonderful is that. We've got two!!!! It' is amazing. For the longest time I didnt know the red stuff around its eye wasnt it's eye. The fact that they are goggles is relatively nw information to me. But I just love this one so much!!!

#4! Archeops (rock/flying)

While more based off of Archaeopteryx I feel this pokemon has some design elements of Microraptos as well,so I'm gonna say its a dinosaur. I love its fluffy colorful feathersm it's eyes. It's just adorable! There is also some evidence it might be influenced by feather serpents found in Mesoamerican stories, which I think is super neat and cool. I wanna go running with one!'

NUM5! Heracross (Bug/FIghting)

This dapper little boy looks super helpful. LIke he would help me carry groceries. But he also always made me think of like a superhero for some reason. They just seem really heroic. I was also a big fan of Ash's Heracross in the anime!

AND FINALLY NYMBER 6) CYCLIZARRRRR! (Dragon/Normal)

Cyclizar is such a good little dragon. You can ride them, they have a cute little tongue and I like the wheel that also looks like a throat sack. They are the perfect mixture of cool and cute, and is a contender for my favorite pokemon. (SEE foreshadowing. Not actually forshadowing) I was obsessed when this pokemon was announced earlier this year and I still am!

Okay so by this you might be able to guess my favorite types! Bugs, Dragons, and Water types are my favorite!!!

Some contenders for the team include:

Lapras: Majestic, dino-esque pokemon. That you can also ride!), Vapreon: My favorite eeveelution I like how it blends mamillian and amphibious/aquatic traits. I would also consider it to be a type of slime.

Dragonite( I already talked about above)

And Scyther/scizor and Yanmega: (Bugs :3)

I also really like Koraidon

Princess Signing off!!!

#pokemon #cyclizar #goodra #gastrodon #flygon #Heracross #Archeops

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larkscribbles · 1 year

Text

A New You

[AO3] 2,335 words

Fixing his nose will help save the world.

Maybe. Possibly. It would get him and Delphine get closer, at least.

Quentin presses as near as he dares to the slick stone wall of the Ratway, not close enough to smear his cloak with the gunk covering the slick stone walls. He’s acutely aware he needs to look semi-presentable, at the very least. The voices pick up as they draw near, becoming louder, sharper. There’s a hiss as a weapon is loosed from its scabbard. The thump of leather as someone beats their fists together. The twang of a bow. By the nine! They’ve drawn their weapons! Why have they drawn their weapons?! He doesn’t want to fight. There’s no need to fight. He just wants to get to the damn underground tavern.

They’re coming closer. He can feel the tension in the mismatched scuffle of their steps. Bristling, ready to skewer the intruder. He sucks in a breath. Ok- ok- don’t panic. The breton steels his nerves and summons a spell to his hand. The soft blue magic pulses from his fingers, surrounding him with a swirl, arcane whisps absorbing into his armour. There is no rustle of fabric, no tinkle of glass, as he pops the cork on a potion he would really rather save, tipping the translucent contents into his mouth. It tastes foul. Cold and slimy and like crushed bugs. He is afflicted by pins and needles.

The ruffians turn the corner to… just the corner. They heard the spell go off and yet nobody is there. They advance slightly into the alcove the man has found himself in, now pressed flat against the wall. There’s a few sparse beams of light from the surface. Some hanging moss. The Dragonborn makes a note of these to avoid giving himself away. His cloak now slick and thoroughly slimed. He feels like a fly trapped in honey. He prays the steady drip of water doesn’t outline his invisible form. Attention eventually shifts to the other poor-lit corners of the entrance and so, Quentin runs. Full pelt, his escape completely silenced by magic.

He’s no hero, no fighter, no mage, no thief. Just an awkward in between. He is trying the hero part - the Dragonborn part. The fate of the world, curiously enough, is something that is of importance to him. That’s why he seeks the Ragged Flagon.

Fixing his nose will help save the world.

Maybe. Possibly. It would get him and Delphine get closer, at least.

Eventually, after employing the tactics one would use scouting a dungeon, he arrives at the entrance. The murmur of hushed chatter and gentle knock of tankards against the table clues him in. The breton shakes his outfit in vain to try and rid them of the grime accumulated on the way, a hopeless endeavour. Instead, opting to carefully ball up his cloak and shove it in his backpack. The slimy-sewer-water-look really isn’t helping with his image. The patrons of the establishment are tough, so he needs to look equally fierce. Not like a drowned skeever. Admittedly, a bit late for that - might as well be his constant state of being in his profession.

The door opens to a large arched room. The warm glow of the tavern nestled in the corner contrasting sharply with the wet greened cobblestones. A large dark pool of water dominates the space, small wooden platforms edge out towards the centre, supported by ropes which stretch to the corners of the room like webbing. A carved wooden sign hangs proudly, embellished with a frothing tankard imposed against Riften’s two signature swords, pointed downwards. They should be pointing up - that’s not supposed to mean anything, is it? Neat lettering announces ‘Ragged Flagon’, assuring the adventurer he has made it. He makes a conscious effort not to slouch and squares his shoulders. Quentin slowly edges his way around the rim of the room. Sure to acknowledge the other patrons of the bar with a nod, lips pursed, but little else. A moment later he’s hurriedly avoiding eye contact with the gentleman, Brynjolf, who’d tried to scout him for the thieves’ guild. Fortunately the nord picks up that is not the reason for the Dragonborn’s appearance and busies himself with his drink. Quentin resumes his search. A brief flick through the sparse collection of faces. He wrinkles his nose without thinking about it. Not to be stereotypical, but none of them look particularly magically adept. A red hood and white robe suddenly catches his attention from the gloom. A woman sits off to the side, near the water, nose buried in a book. He approaches and coughs lightly in her direction. The bosmer raises her head, expression morphing into one of disgust.

“Pardon me-”

WHY DID YOU SAY PARDON?! YOU SOUND LIKE AN IDIOT! WHAT IN OBLIVION IS WRONG WITH YOU? SCREW IT- ROLL WITH IT- ROLL WITH IT-

“Are you this… face sculptor I’ve heard about?” The Dragonborn tries to smile innocently after his moment of hesitation. It’s awkward. In his mind’s eye it’s probably more of a grimace. To be honest with himself he’s not fully on board with the idea of trying to infiltrate a Thalmor Embassy party by posing as some wealthy merchant or noble or whatever and then going snooping. It sounds like a terrible idea. Having your face “sculpted” also, perhaps, a terrible idea… he pushes the passing murmurs of ‘face butcher’ to the back of his mind. His skin crawls.

The woman places her hand on the page of her book, clearly expecting to resume it soon. She speaks in a clipped upper class accent. "Yes. I once practiced my art in the salons and manors of Tamriel's great and good. Now, the scum of Skyrim are my only clients. But no matter. The greatest artists are never recognized in their own time." Her eyes narrow, glinting in the torchlight. She continues, "So are you here as a client? Shall I remake your face?"

“All I need is- just my nose actually-”

The sorceress blinks incredulously. "I do not practice my art for free, I hope you do not think a ‘small’ modification shall run you any less coin. You pay for what you get. I doubt you can afford my services - 1000 Septims. You have the smell of the vagabond about you."

“I’ve… been travelling through a sewer I’m afraid. Littered with surprisingly hostile people. I assure you I was much more presentable before.” He tries not to let his offence show more than a crease of his brow. How rude. He unclips his coin purse from his belt and hands it to her, pulling up a rickety wooden chair while she fingers through it. The breton refuses to sit sideways on a bench while she works her magic. Not without four solid legs on the floor, a back and something to grip to for a crumb of stability.

There is surprise and a hint of resignation in her voice once she speaks again. “Very well, just tell me what you desire - beauty or hideous deformity, nothing is beyond my skill.”

“Deformity?” He echoes without meaning to. “Why would-“

“You would be surprised.” She informs curtly. “Some wish to hide. To be unrecognisable.”

“Right, right.” He clears his throat and squeaks his chair agonisingly closer to her. Her book is closed, placed carefully on the side of the bench. “I- uhm.” He momentarily struggles to find the words. What to say? What not to say. I am breaking into the Thalmor Embassy and need to look appropriately rich and asshole-ish.

“You mentioned your nose. Broken.” She takes him by the chin, trying as she might to avoid touching the scruff he calls a beard, and rotates his head side-to-side.

Quentin can’t tell if it’s a statement or a question. “Dungeon battering ram- you know how it is-” he bleats. She certainly doesn’t know. “I would like that fixed. I am… going to a fancy party and need to… look…” the perfect word lingers on the tip of his tongue. The elf holds back a biting remark or just her own thoughts on what he should do. Oh gods this is like asking for the worst haircut ever. “… noble. Charming. But- but like me.” He stresses. “If you change my face too much- can you put it back the way it was before? I mean- I don’t want to forget what the original looks like. That would be scary- uh- y’know.”

“Of course, that goes without saying.” Her voice is neutral, ambiguous as to whether this is true. She goes about measuring the lengths of his face with her fingers. Soon producing a quill from her sleeve with a flick of her wrist to scrawl some notes on the back page of her book.

��I’m sorry,” he starts suddenly, “I completely forgot to ask your name! I’m Quentin.”

The sorceress tries to rub the newly-acquired dirt and sweat from her fingers. “Galathil.”

Quentin considers he probably should offer a fake name in future. Then again he might be recognisable, at least to some, as the Dragonborn. Like the time he returned to Whiterun and two masked dunmer started launching lightning bolts at his head. Perhaps his reputation may precede him one day. The reputation that puts a target on his back to man, mer and dragon alike. Precede him in a good way, maybe. Doesn’t hurt to be optimistic. Or it might if this alteration magic goes wrong and splatters his face.

“Well it’s nice to meet you.” He withers slightly under her expectant gaze. “… is it going to hurt?”

“It shouldn’t.” Her voice has a hint of sympathy somewhere.

The elf stands, splaying her hands inches from his face, index fingers and thumbs touching to form a diamond. A blue fleck of magic ignites into an orb. She moves her hands in a sweeping motion, stopping at roughly the width of his face, the sphere glows in magnitude to fill the gap. Galthil’s eyes burn a hot white. A pressure begins deep in his sinuses and builds, creeping across his face. Not incredibly painful but certainly uncomfortable. He suppresses a shudder, unsure if the sweat beading his skin is due to the spell or nerves. The man’s knuckles turn white as they desperately grip the sides of the chair, his shoulders are by his ears. For a brief moment a cold shock of panic seizes his chest. My face! It’s melting! His anguish was quickly alleviated by the semi-muffled crunch of bone snapping back into place. Quentin reels backwards from the shock of it, hand flying to his face. The blood that has begun pooling in his nostrils quickly stops before it develops into an actual nose bleed. He halts, widened eyes meeting Galathil’s. She simply inclines her head slightly in response, lips pursing as she observes what she’s just done. She doesn’t look worried at least.

“Ow.” He says entirely on a delay, having been given a moment to think about it. He sniffs experimentally. Heat rises to his face.

“That didn’t hurt.” The sorceress tuts, confidently. “Now hold still whilst I just make sure everything sets right.”

Her hands form a flurry of signs. The Dragonborn feels his face prickle like he’s just dipped it in a stream. It’s not a bad feeling, somewhat refreshing, slightly undercut by the gunky sewer water they’re suspended over perpetually being in view. The room sways. She finally stops, eyes dimming back to normal as she turns to rummage through a small bag at her side. Quentin feels himself slump into the chair, exhausted from his nerves alone. Out of the corner of his eye he sees the sorceress working at something furiously with her sleeve. A battered yet ornate hand mirror is shoved in his face.

His breath catches in his throat slightly. It is him but it also isn’t. Uncanny. The damage from Skyrim’s harsh climate has been removed, as if he’d been painted over; dark circles under his eyes vanquished, colour restored to his cheeks, his lips no longer chapped. His dark hair has been washed and somehow curled (he didn’t know it could do that), now more obviously brown as opposed to black - easier to tell without the cling of dirt. Nose back in action. In truth, he could scarcely remember what it had looked like before it was broken. Something like this, clearly. Face clean shaven. Ah- wait-

He points to his face with an inquiring eyebrow. The Bosmer eventually deciphers the look.

“You look better without it, trust me, at least in this instance. I couldn’t get anything else to work with the hair without making you look like a gallant knight, or a very full-of-himself bard.”

The breton accepts this, pouting and sagging slightly. “I’m going to freeze to death as soon as I step outside. My poor unprotected face. But uhm. Thank you for the rest of it.”

He stands and offers a hand, unsure what etiquette to apply. She gives him a curt nod but eventually shakes it.

“I also didn’t know what you’re going to be wearing.”

“It’s ok, I don’t either.”

She rolls her eyes at this.

“Be sure to brush your hair appropriately- don’t skimp out on curling it- and for the love of- if you’re really worried buy some Telvanni bug musk or something. You’ll be a… charmer… regardless of how eloquent you find yourself to be in that moment.”

Quentin laughs, unsure how to explain he’s not trying to draw attention to himself. “I will be sure to keep that in mind.”

The Dragonborn leaves the sewers as a slightly different looking man, simultaneously mortified and emboldened. A voice in the back of his head says this is the face of a hero, one that will save the land. The other voice in his head tells him it’s not going to last and he will inevitably break his nose and go back to looking like a disheveled wreck before he can reach Katla’s Farm to get transport to the event. Whatever happens he’ll make it work.

#Larkscrawls #larkscribblesoc #Dragonborn!Quentin #Dragonborn #elder scrolls #tes #Skyrim #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #galathil #face sculptor #dovakhiin

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alienssstufff · 2 years

Note

(classpect anon) ooh!! love love the ones youve assigned they fit v well!! as soon as i read that you had a couple undetermined ones my brain went straight into action and i *need* to write these down real quickly :)

cleo - witch of life: manipulation part of it? keeps herself together and "alive", maybe she revived herself before ascending so it didnt work to full affect and shes half-dead? maybe?? also how she went against the soulmate system in double life, teaming with scott instead?

joel - prince of life: love the idea of him being a prince of life!! not only for the color scheme (lol shrek colored man) but also because that just works really well for his character!! i feel like he might work as a lime blood but since theyve got that secondary part about drawing in friends i dont know if itd work? idk something about goal-focused, kind-hearted, but also harsh and rude, and how he makes teams well no matter if its with other greens&yellows or with fellow reds. though im not aware of if limes are still around in this au u_u

ah sorry for the rant!! i didnt mean for it to be so long i got carried away!! >_<

DONT APOLOGISE CLASSPECT ANON I LOVE YOU WITH ALLLLL MY HEART AND SOUL TY FOR THESE!!

>Oh my hecking gosh i love hs witches [is one myself] witches are so hecking op! the more i read ur reasoning yeah yeah witch of life is perfect for cleo with the armour stands and the manipulation of lifeforms YES - quickly read up on an analysis for Witches of Life and because of their rebellious nature [as a witch] they are also very dominant and proactive in a crowd which is so cleo. My knowledge about how certain systems (like death and revival) is very rusty so im really appreciate the little bit of lore u wrote for her i'll keep that in mind ^_^

>PRINCE OF LIFE JOEL IS SUCH A FIT IM GLAD U AGREE!!! tbh i don't think very hard about the bloodcolour assigning part i go off with vibes/ colours [character] already has but im glad we got some justification as to why joel is a jade neow >:] initially I assigned him as jadeblood purely for irony as jades often are associated as quiet and passive. I got the Extended Zodiac site open and the perfectionist and fussy traits of jades fit him - this last sentence made me giggle X] "It takes a lot (not really apparently) to make a Jade Sign snap, but if they do, take cover."

sidenote i'd say limes would still be around! limes (well... only one) still exist in my dsmp x hs au as well - but id usually need reason as to why they're lime (eg- c!slimecicle in the dsmp x hs au is a slime mob, they in dsmp lore are canonically near extinct in their true form) ovo! all my hs AUs consist of a mix of all trolls and also humans

#ask stufff #classpect #hermitcraft #life smp #stufff rambles

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theofficersacademy · 1 year

Photo

Ashe Artur Roy Caeda Azura Andrei Eir Elice Python Leif Patty Est Byleth (F) Corrin (F)

TEAM TAG: #KEguard2023 VILLAGE HEALTH: 55% PUBLIC OPINION: RESPECTED [68/100]

WEEK 2 LOG

HP lost during village defense: -39%

Food Needs Met: YES

Foraging Yield: 5x herbs, 8x ?

Remaining Perishables: 6lbs meat Other: 2x jerky

Timber: 50 bundles

Dream Crystals: 4 red, 8 yellow, 12 green, 26 white

The villagers are grateful for your aid in defending the village, even if the damage it has sustained so far is on par with a disaster. They recognize, too, that they cannot fully convince you to adopt their ways, and see you now as what you really are: visitors. However, Perth still wishes to use Caeda as your group’s spokesperson.

Even though you harvest more than enough food to feed the village, you notice something strange: the villagers do not eat. You don’t know whether this is because they don’t want to or because they don’t need to, but at least now you know you only need to feed yourselves. You will need 10lbs of meat or 20 lbs of vegetables this week.

Old bones now encircle the village walls, deposited there after the shadows disappeared with the morning sun. You wonder where they came from, who they belonged to, and if the nearby forest had grown up over an ancient graveyard. The villagers don’t have much information for you. Now, you’re no anthropologist, but not all of them look exactly human to you either... but you suppose any skeleton is going to be uncanny to see. There’s an old sheet of paper rolled up in one of their hands: “You and ▊▊▊▊ are strong, but think of the others! ▊▊▊▊, ▊▊▊▊, ▊▊▊▊, ▊▊▊▊, they have found peace here that they hadn’t known since the destruction of ▊▊▊▊. Doesn’t that mean anything to you? I can’t bear the thought of tearing them from the sole scrap of joy and happiness that they’ve had in months. What chaos awaits us ▊▊▊▊▊▊▊▊? I won’t subject them to that pain again. Our lives are happy here. Can’t you see?”

Those of you who sought to explore the forest beyond the village walls last week found yourselves continuously returning to the place that you had started. Are you really that bad at navigating? Maybe you can try again this week.

The animals are absent from the forest this week. Try as you might, you can’t detect any sign of them at all.

You notice that some of your companions have suddenly started bleeding. As you didn’t dedicate time last week to patrolling, you don’t know how or why, and you wonder if maybe the miasmic slimes had gotten into the houses while you were defending the rest of the village. One of the villagers, a medic, says that she had witnessed at least one of them - Edelgard - convulsing right before she began to bleed from an invisible wound. Forsyth, Deirdre, and Kent all bear similar injuries. They are, fortunately, still alive though.

Lonán has developed some new things he thinks might be useful to you if the monsters return. Made of sleek metal and glowing parts, the prototypes he shows you are unlike any sort of technology you’ve ever seen.

NPCs of Note

Perth - The man has voiced his approval of your team’s efforts in defending the village. Due to their vow of pacifism, the others in the village have not had much experience with fighting or, if they had, they’ve long grown rusty. Perth recognizes that this may have been worse had you all not arrived with weapons, yet seems to imply that you’re the reason the nightmares attacked in the first place.

Tieve - Taking a break from herding her children to and fro, the village gossip decides to regale you with a story from her old life. She shows you a little silver band embedded with an onyx, which she wears around her neck. Though she harbors few good memories near the later part of her stay with the Alliance noble with which she had had her affair, she holds on to this ring to remember how giddy and young they both had been at the start. Had it not been for politics, she might have still been with him, and you can tell by the way that she touches the ring that she is glad to have experienced his love.

Balfor - You often find him talking to his birds when he’s alone. Aislinn and Enyd in particular even seem to carry on conversations with him.

Lonán - You don’t know where he’s getting the materials to make the things he does, but you suppose it has something to do with the mysterious dream crystals. If he’s not tinkering with something, he has his nose in a book, but he’s always eager for some company.

Mairenn - The young woman who gifted you the dog collar last week. She’s quiet and keeps to herself, but others in the village assure that it’s just because she’s one of the newer additions. She’s yet to fully settle in.

Tasks [Resource Key] *bolded = new

Hunt? in the forest outside of the village [Max 3 muses per thread] - Animals seem to be scarce this week. Not even those of you with hunting experience can pick up tracks. - At 10 posts, ping Mod Ree

Forage in the forest outside of the village [Max 4 muses per thread] - Receive 1 basket of resource (berries, nuts, mushrooms, herbs, flowers) per post [Can now choose which type] - Villagers will inform you of poisonous plants 75% of the time - Can now talk to Tieve during this task

Harvest the fields [Max 2 muses per thread] - Grants 2lbs of vegetables for every 1 post

Investigate and bury the corpses [Max 2 muses per thread] - Ping Mod Ree every 5 posts

Assist with chopping wood [Max 2 muses per thread] - Gains 1 bundle of timber per post - Axe rank grants multiplier for thread [C or higher = 2x yield] - Can now talk to Lonán during this task

Wall/Gate Repairs [Max 4 muses per thread] - Trades 1 bundle of timber per post - Restores village health - Can now talk to Balfor during this task

Dry herbs [Max 2 muses per thread] - Trades 1 basket of herbs for 1 medicine per post - Faith rank grants higher potency to concoctions. D = 1HP, C = 2HP, B = 3HP, A = 4HP, S = 5HP. - Can now talk to Mairenn during this task

Prepare meat [Max 2 muses per thread] - Trades 1 lb of meat for 1 lb of jerky per post - Every post subtracts 1 point from public opinion

Patrol your companions’ quarters [Max 4 muses per thread] - Restore 1HP to houses per post - Can now talk to Perth during this task

Explore outside of the village [Max 3 muses per thread] - You just keep going in circles - It’s foggy this week, so it’s difficult to see into the distance even if you go by giant bird

#keguard2023 #toakeraselephas2023

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maguro13-2 · 3 months

Text

Return of the Hash Slinging Slasher ~ Slasher Remake Improved ~ Pt.3 (2/2)

[the lights continues to flicker on and off]

Saya Kisaragi : So, it's not you that is doing it?

Fumito Nanahara : Well, yeah. Who knows? Maybe it's just my imagination. But I'm sure that it's just a faulty wiring here and they say that this establishment wasn't built on 24 hours a day.

Saya Kisaragi : I think that was the first sign that signaled it. Don't you understand that, Fumito? There's nothing wrong with one of the best things there is.

Fumito Nanahara : Huh? [realizes and looks shcoked] Wait a minute. there's no messing with the light switch. You're right, that is the first sign signaling. Did you bring something along with you?

Saya Kisaragi : Sure. I have a sword that I brought along with it. And yes, I have something in common for a flashlight.

Fumito Nanahara : Right. Which is why are needed to be careful if it's just like in a horror movie. So much as we're not breaking the fourth wall or anything. We'll just let people know that it's not at an actual joke. [the lights stops flicker] Oh good, it stopped. Glad that's the first sign signaling. Hope that wasn't a supernatural force or something.

[telephone ringing]

Saya Kisaragi : Hmm? Sounds like the phone just rang, maybe it's no surprise.

Fumito Nanahara : I'll get it to answer it. Who could that be? [picks up the telephone and answers it] Yeah, what do you want, shrimp for brains? Hello? Is this someone on the phone? Is there anybody on the line [No one's on the other end of the line] Private number.

Voice : I'm sorry, the person you were looking for is not in service. [switches to a male voice] HEY! MAYBE YOU WANNA PAY THE F***ING PHONE BILL TO--[Fumito hangs up the phone]

Fumito Nanahara: That was dumb enough to fool someone that there is no one the line.

Saya Kisaragi : Very clever of you, Fumito. You just don't know what really hits you. So, now I have officially proven my mind that the phone will ring as someone tries to answer it and there will be nobody there on the line. So much for you, Fumito. So much for you. Okay then, I'm going to the kitchen to get myself a glass of water before going to bed.

Fumito Nanahara : Saya, this isn't a joke. There is literally real! You knew that this is like being in a horror movie! Who's idea was it to make this an idea for this kind of halloween stuff. R-rated slasher movies aren't worth the type. Maybe I just need to get my mind thinking straight, when it comes to those of a horror movie, and to tell that it's tuesday night, will be re-defying the glories of horror movies, like in zombie films, vampire films, and even monster films. But Slasher movies are killer when it comes to supernatural forces. Lights flickering on and off...[lights flicker on and off] phone ringing as someone answers it...[phone rings] and most important for the horror stuff is that...that the walls they built will ooze icky green slime?! [walls start to ooze green slime as a woman screaming in horror is heard] "Green Slime"? I didn't order any...Oh wait, they always do that in sci-fi movies. But I don't remember green slime oozing out of the walls thinking that always do that in both horror and sci-fi. But i'm thinking something that doesn't seem to add up the question, if the walls were meant to ooze green slime what do they mean to that third thing? What does Green slime have to do with supernatural forces? [Hears a motor and truck horn blaring] Huh? That motor and a truck honking? [realizing] Oh no, it can't be! [turns his head and opens his eyes wide, he gasped in shocked; the G.U.N Truck from Sonic Adventure 2, pulls up to the cafe's door]

Saya Kisaragi : Well, would you look at that. [walks up to the counter] I didn't know a vehicle from another world ran this late at night.

Fumito Nanahara : This might not end well.

~ THE SLASHER HAS FINALLY ARRIVED! ~

#blood c #spongebob squarepants #graveyard shift #saya kisaragi #fumito nanahara #hash slinging slasher #production ig #clamp #nickelodeon #crossover #comedy #dark comedy #horror #supernatural #fantasy #dark fantasy #humor #dark humor #halloween

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augment-techs · 7 months

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"5 times Person A wanted to tell Person B they love them + the 1 time they finally did" SkullBilly

Half version here, half on AO3...when it's fully done. Not so jumbled up here. ^^;

There was a sheet of ice over the whole back yard and it was the most beautiful thing the two nine year olds had ever seen.

So much so, that neither Billy or Eugene wanted to step onto the shining slick and ruin the moment. The Skullovitch property was a mess at the best of times and the beginning of newly blossomed green with the spring grass didn't ever make it look much better. But with a freak weather pattern the night before, it could almost be considered pretty now.

"I want to get a picture."

"Not of my back yard by itself. It's good for a lot of things, but not National Geographic stuff."

Billy huffed and finagled his crappy flip phone out of his back pocket, pressing it into Eugene's hand before taking a breath...

Very slowly, arms out on either side of him like he was going to perform on a balance beam, Billy stepped from one slowly melting patch of ice and clover to another, then another, until he was standing on the puddle that had accumulated in the night to look like a silver disc of mirror.

Since he dressed a little bit like a child from the Victorian era when it came to sleepwear, he was still wearing the long white cotton muslin oversized shirt that draped down almost to his knees like a smock. He was wearing bed shorts--just a spare set of swim trunks that he didn't want to throw away until he had to--but the shot didn't make that readily apparent as he carefully bent down and sat on his knees; raising both hands in the air to make peace signs.

No glasses, straw blond hair still messy from bouncing around in bed all night, looking more sure of himself than he often did...

Eugene almost said the words he thought about often in his head, sometimes wanted to say out loud, was terrified of his father and mother ever suspecting.

"Say 'Hoist the Sails' Bones!"

'Please don't leave.'

"So, you'll be gone for how long again?"

Billy sighed, his previous elation as he stowed away all the clothes he'd need for his trip to space camp dimmed as he adjusted his glasses and looked back over to where Eugene was kneading the makeshift homemade slime that looked like little more than unbaked dough. He didn't want to look Billy in the eye and burst into tears at his answer.

"Eight weeks--but they have phones! I won't be able to use mine because of the rules and regulations, but I'll still be able to call once a week."

'Eight weeks. Two months. Fifty-six days.'

Might as well have been two lifetimes to someone who was barely alive a decade.

But Eugene just covered up the urge to plead, 'I don't want you to go. I don't want to be alone. I love--' with his usual smile of bluster and sureness and slammed the stim aid into his other hand like a baseball.

"I guess that means you'll have to tell me everything you can about all the aliens they're hiding when you get back and aren't being recorded then!"

It had the desired effect of turning Billy's hesitant fidgeting into a hundred-watt smile that could have blinded an emotional cripple. They only had an hour left before he had to get in the car with his dad to drive him to the camp, and neither of them wanted to spoil it.

'I love you, I love you, I love you--how could you do this to me--I love you, I love you-- …How could you? How could you... How could you...'

The necessity to breathe was growing harder and harder as Eugene walked further away from the school, the parents and children milling around with the professionals that came to visit to introduce them to the concept of the future and priorities, and Eugene's brain repeating over and over the look on Billy's face...

The choice to run up to Eugene and ask him why he hadn't picked up the phone or where he'd been or why he looked like he hadn't slept since Billy had gone...

Or the choice to ignore him and go to where the Cranstons were waiting on the curb with a professional looking women wearing a suit that looked like it cost more than all the drugs Mr. Skullovitch had stolen from his bosses before he'd skipped town.

…Probably the worst part was the lack of surprise with Billy waving Eugene away, but what felt like a punch to the stomach when he looked back to the grownups to make sure it wasn't obvious.

He was vaguely aware that he was having a panic attack as he made his way across town, down along the train tracks, into the furthest reaches of the last parts of Angel Grove, into the woods and down the road to his house. Empty and silent as he took his shoes off, made his way into his bedroom, and slunk into the back of his closet.

His father might not have been around to beat the crap out of him for crying like a little sissy anymore, his brother might have been wandering around with his friends causing problems, and his mother might have been drowning in her own sorrows over becoming a divorcee at some bar where she could hustle at pool even while being half in the bag; but he still made himself as small and quiet as possible. Even if it hurt his back and legs and arms, the stitches still fresh and healing and so dark against his moon pale skin, he couldn't stop the trembling.

"...And why? Because I'm smarter than you?"

'You are so fucking stupid.'

The urge to give a deep, horribly depressed sigh at Billy's inability to see the writing on the wall as well as consider the phrase 'pulling your pigtails' was so terribly close to coming to the edge of reality that Skull would later--much later, probably in a matter of weeks--give himself a small pat on the back for suppressing it.

He still told him the truth, just slanted and upside-down because God Forbid Billy ask the wrong question and get an answer that doesn't piss him off.

"Billy's not here?"

The Dome had been up for two days and Skull could have slapped himself for not checking in on the Cranston residence sooner, but in all fairness he'd been a little out of it. First because he and Bulk still couldn't find Candice anywhere, and second...well it was just really hard to think when his face was in screaming pain from his being an idiot trying to take on a Putty with considerably obvious upgrades.

Which he probably should have considered when going to knock on the Cranston house door, because the phones weren't working so he had to go in person for a face-to-face.

His face still dark red and purple where he took the hit.

Very obviously not the best idea when Mr. Cranston opened the door and looked five seconds away from picking him up and driving him to the hospital after answering the door, eyes obviously hoping to find Billy, and shifting to that kind of intense parental horror that only actually good parents could show off, "Oh, Eugene..."

But there had been too many years, and Skull didn't like Mr. Cranston looking at him with any sort of kindness. Skull might have let up and pulled up on picking on Billy or humiliating him for over a year, but he also didn't feel much like taking back anything he and Bulk did to satisfy the broken parts of him screaming out the same thing over and over again that went unheard and unwanted.

He took a step back on the porch, away from Mr. Cranston's step forward and gave the same shrug he used to when he had bruises in other places from his old man, when one of the Cranston's asked if he wanted to tell them something, but he never did.

"I'll keep an eye out for him. I'm still looking around for my--… For a friend that I haven't seen since we all got cut off from civilization. Maybe he's just hiding out from the Putties still roaming around."

"I would very much appreciate that, Eugene. Thank you," the man breathed, not in relief, but in gratitude, opening the door a little wider, but without stepping forward, "But would you like to come inside and have some coffee before being off again? We have cake that my wife made that's about to go spare without Billy here with his bottomless pit of a stomach."

Skull let his head dip down, delicate neck slow with the movement, but very pointed in its way of emphasizing that the kindness was, as always, a refreshing treat, but not something Skull could bring himself to imbibe in.

"Thank you, Mr. Cranston, but...I really must be going."

#boom! comics power rangers #mmpr #ggpr #Billy Cranston x Eugene Skull Skullovitch #ask fill #prompt fill #short version here; long version on AO3

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solaneceae · 5 months

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first days are the hardest

a team bolas oneshot (read on ao3) tw: cannibalism, violence, blood, temporary character deaths (just bolas things)

When they all get off the train, wary and rattled by the ominous images and words streamed into their minds by the strange new entity, everything is red. Like a mist, heavy and thick and clogging up their airways. The train station echoes with dozens of voices, yelling and calling out for silence alike. (Some are singing, which is par for the course, because who could resist belting out the Halo theme song in such an echo-y place?)

They look for a way out, but there isn’t one. They check their inventory, and it’s empty, no backpacks and no warpstone and no weapons or food. They call out for Cucurucho, but no sign of the usually too-present white bear. Then they all freeze, and collective stumble-jolt as images and information flashes behind their eyes. They learn about Purgatory, and about teams, and fear and anxiety clutch at their hearts. Rip each other apart, the entity had said, and already wary glances are being thrown around, the cracks that had been slowly appearing between island residents suddenly growing into chasms.

(They could try to work together, despite what their Host said. They could be lying after all, about the eggs, and the curse. But they all know that until they can gather solid evidence, they will all play along this fucked-up game if it means their children might be returned to them.)

Hearts and minds are numbed, goodbyes exchanged. Bagi hugs Tina so tightly her bones creak, and whispers something into her ear that makes the girl blush furiously. Forever and Cellbit speak in hushed tones, not for long, but part with their eyes gleaming in determination. Bad and Baghera exchange an embrace, the duck giving the demon one last ducky kiss on his nose (which is more of a nip, but Bad giggles and retaliates with a peck on her forehead).

Then they all walk away, because time is running out and they have eggs to save.

***

The red team is. Something, alright.

Jaiden squeals in surprised joy when Foolish, Baghera and Slime all gather before their assigned door, the energy suddenly shifting from bleak and resigned to strangely, unnaturally manic. “Holy shit, the Swellers!” the conure woops, trapping them all in a hug that has them bumping heads. “That’s— okay, best team, best fucking team, we’ve got this.”

“Fuck yeah!” the slime hybrid cheers, way too enthused by all of this (but then again, he doesn’t have a kid on the line, convinced that Flippa is still waiting for him at home. None of the others say anything, because now is not the time for that overdue conversation.) Foolish makes a sound that should not be produced by a living thing’s vocal chords, but that Baghera eagerly mimics as she flaps her arm-wings elatedly.

Cellbit is a bit further away, scarred arms moving animatedly as he talks to a disgruntled Phil — the crow nods and reflexively reaches behind him for a familiar mass that is no longer there. He keeps swaying forward and catching himself last-second, thrown off-balance by the absence of his usual black backpack, and his wings are exposed and god they’re a mess. Baghera and Jaiden both wince at the sight of clipped, damaged feathers and exposed skin, red and inflamed, an obvious sign of stress-plucking. They look at each other, a silent pact to deal with this later.

“Half our team isn’t even there,” the detective groans, rubbing at his face in barely-suppressed despair. “How is that fucking fair?”

“I mean, I know my way around hardcore shit. And I heard that Carré was pretty good at PvP,” the older man hums, glancing at the Argentinian in the cat onesie. Carré glances back at him at the sound of his name, raises a hand in greeting. “Yo.”

“Yeah, but—” Cellbit makes a low sound, something between a growl and a whine. “Caralho. Not to underestimate you guys, but the green team has Étoiles. Étoiles, and Forever, and fucking Fit from 2b2t. Blue has all the Create geniuses, and Pac, bro, you have no idea how good Pac is at combat, he’ll destroy us. And two weeks of this?” He sighs. “...Hey. Is Wilbur any good at this type of stuff, and is there a chance he’ll show up at all. Be honest.”

Phil grimaces, and that’s all the answers Cellbit needs. “Puta que pariú. That means we’ll be five, tops... six if we get lucky with Carré. We’re so fucked.”

The team immediately settles on the name Bolas?!?!?!, exclamation and interrogation points very much included, and Cellbit looks like he wants to perma-die right there and then. “Right,” he says, flat-toned and dull. “Of course. Fuck it, we ball I guess.”

Two minutes later, Carré’s dislocated body is soaking the coarse dirt of Purgatory with dark red, and they’re all collectively losing their shit. “Open your paragliders you dumbasses!” Foolish screeches over the manic laughter, and that’s the exact moment they all know there’s no way they’re winning this.

They are right. And it only gets worse as the day progresses.

***

The red skies loom over them oppressively, fresh burns and cuts all over their bodies from all the bullshit that has smacked them around for nearly four hours now. Charlie has given up on armors or weapons, hitting a meathead with a single stick as he screeches at it like a bat with rabies. “This isn’t Purgatory!” he screams into his cellphone thingy, his dying voice rattling the brains of the rest of his team, wherever they are. “This is Hell!” He startles and yelps, because he’s spotted a tree in the corner of his eye and thought it was Bad, back again to drive cold metal through his body again. He fucking hates the demon so much right now, even thinking about him makes him want to bash his head against a rock until sweet oblivion takes him away from this nightmare.

“Holy shit, kill yourself!” Jaiden yells out to the skies as yet another curse falls onto them, forcing their limbs to flail and move the way they don’t want them to. It’s not directed at anyone in particular, maybe it’s at herself, maybe it’s at all of them, even she cannot tell. Her eyes are blown wide, soot and dirt in her wings and hair, her limbs tingling with recent respawn. She’s smiling, and Charlie’s smiling, Baghera as well as she sobs before the firepit, rocking back and forth. “Just take my egg,” she giggles, a broken sound. Her eyes flicker with green and purple for a split second, and she feels like she’s losing her mind, grief and rage and despair devolving into pure chaos. “Just take my egg, I don’t care, I don’t care.”

“Holy shit, that’s what we’re at,” Jaiden cackles, barely avoiding getting impaled by another mob. “Kill Pomme!” Cellbit is laughing from the other side of their comms, loud and high-pitched, and Baghera should be mad at him, shouldn’t she? She knows he’s been killing innocent workers, that was still a thing, right? She still cared, right? So why was she laughing? Had they really been broken that badly, that fast? And Philza, Philza who’s been driving himself mad looking for his own eggs, the bastion of their sanity, he’s laughing too, and screeching about some fish attacking him, and god, Carré isn’t responding anymore, he’s fucking dipped, and it’s all gone pear-shaped.

The rest of the day melts into red-grey sludge. They find themselves gathered around a campire and they’re laughing and wailing and sobbing and more laughing, and there’s some singing at some point as their limbs flail in something like dancing. Everything hurts, everything sucks, and it’s somehow so goddamn funny, and everytime they begin to calm down one of them says something so unhinged that they all devolve into hysterics again. Foolish is off building a castle somewhere, eager to start their emerald empire.

Bad kills Slime once, twice, and then he kills Baghera, who feels a part of herself wilt. She understands, though. She cannot stay mad at Bébou, even after that. She knows he’s doing this for their children, and will run over everyone to save them, including her. She’s strangely okay with that. (She hopes she gets to kill him, later. It’s a visceral want, like hunger. It scares her, because she still loves him to death, but she wants to wrap her hands around his neck and watch the life bleed out of his mismatched eyes. He won’t hold it against her, she knows.)

They start to kill each other at some point, tired of being killed by the ones they used to trust. Slime and Cellbit beat the shit out of each other with sticks until the smaller man is downed, and Cellbit finishes him off by ripping out his throat with his very teeth while Jaiden cheers from somewhere at his right. Baghera loses her shit when she learns she’s been grinding for saplings for nothing, and drives a sword through Philza’s back, who just laughs and chokes in his own blood because alright, that’s fair. Jaiden and Slime wrestle in the half finished tower as Foolish hums, placing block after block, unbothered by the conure beating the slime hybrid into the ground until his goopy green body becomes mere jelly. The totem huffs at her, requests that she cleans up the mess as Slime rushes back, fresh from respawn, and snaps the young avian’s neck.

They start walking willingly into the fire, the pain barely registering because their entire self just tingues and aches from laughing nonstop. They burn, and they fall, and respawn with the smell of charred flesh and void-ozone in their nose before climbing into the fire again just to feel something. Their commlinks are buzzing with messages from the other teams, some of them concerned, some of them mocking. None of them care. “We should start a cult,” one of them says, and none of them can remember who because their minds are mingling, fucked-up osmosis. They wonder how hard it would be to craft gas masks for all of them, decide it's an issue to tackle another day.

Jaiden eats the last potato, and they’re all starving to death. Eyes glide over to the pile of charred bodies around the fire, and Cellbit doesn’t remember much from what happens after that. Only the taste of blood and meat of all kinds, human and not. (Part of him knows that Baghera tasted particularly delicious, but he tries his best not to linger on that.) “I think we should all only use our own corpses,” he drawls, pupils mere slits and blood on his chin. The others don’t look much better, and he wonders if this is divine punishment for his sins, seeing people he cares about be dragged onto the same horrible path had been on — was now back on. “I don’t— it’s too much. Too far.”

They all agree. Cellbit never tastes bird meat after that. (And he’s strangely disturbed by the idea of a duck eating meat, let alone duck meat, but he’s so fucking done.)

“I could not ask for a better group of people to be stuck in this shit with,” Philza breathes out as night falls, sprawled onto his back on top of Foolish’s tower with his wings dirty and blood-soaked. Étoiles killed him earlier, and that’s kinda fucked, but he still trusts the man with his life. And his death. The others all acquiesce around him, every single one staring up at stars and constellations that don’t look right, eyes too shiny and smiles too wide, and they know that something in their brain chemistry has irrevocably changed.

This cursed place has no sheep, which means no wool, which means no beds. So when exhaustion crashes into them like a freight train, they forego all sense of personal boundaries and crawl into each other’s arms on top of their little tower of despair, in one fucked up pile of aching limbs and blood-soaked clothes.

Tomorrow will be another day. But they all know nothing will ever be the same after this.

#qsmp #fanfic #tw cannibalism #tw blood #tw insanity #qsmp purgatory #team bolas #something about this arc changed my brain chemistry fr

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snowlessknitter · 1 year

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The Masked Singer: S8 E9 (Fright Night)

Tonight is the first of two episodes this week. Tonight is the last time a King or Queen of Masked Singer will be crowned, and whoever is surviving at the end of the episode will move on to the Semifinals, which will air tomorrow night in a special Thursday episode. This means that for the second time in the show’s history, the finale will consist of just two celebrities and unmaskings instead of three.

As always, I post before seeing any unmaskings, so don’t take these guesses as spoilers. I am watching on a bit of a delay.

Sir Bug a Boo 👹: He’s got 4 legs. Used to spooky signs. We see a film reel and a case. A red phone with question marks. Says he’s not afraid of anything, even a scary movie (could be a reference to the Scary Movie series), but he’s actually afraid of the dark. I know Simon Rex was a regular in the Scary Movie series, and I think a couple of Wayans brothers or members of the Wayans family have been in that series as well. (Shawn and Marlon specifically have starred in a couple of Scary Movie films, and they developed the series along with their brother Keenan. The extra clue is green slime and a picture of Nicole Scherzinger. I’m going to guess this is either Shawn or Marlon Wayans.

Scarecrow 🎃: I saw a brief clip of her performance on social media, and this is definitely an older woman, and she’s probably shorter than Nick Cannon, because the top of her pumpkin head is right at about the same height as Nick. Lots of flannel shirts, which I tend to associate with the grunge rock genre. Made fans “scream” and critics “praise (her)”. Could be an actress, possibly in the Scream movies? We saw a globe painted gold, possibly a Golden Globe winner or nominee. She sang on Broadway, and we also saw roller skates. A sign with the letter X. A sign reads, “Wes Craven was here”. Wes Craven is the creator and director of the Scream movies. The voice kind of sounds right, and although I can’t see an immediate connection to Wes Craven in her filmography, I’m going to go with grunge legend Courtney Love (who does in fact have a Golden Globe nomination for The People vs. Larry Flynt), and I think she might have also performed in the Broadway revival of Chicago.

Snowstorm ❄️: A speed dating banner. The chestnuts roasting on an open fire seems to suggest she’s a roast comic. We also saw a picture of a house…a white house. Perhaps she’s performed at the White House Correspondents’ Dinner? The most recent female comedians to perform at that dinner were Michelle Wolf and Cecily Strong. I’ve also heard Nikki Glaser as a potential guess. My guess is that this is Cecily Strong, but I’m totally throwing out a guess here. I’m kind of stumped.

#the masked singer #the masked singer season 8

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justafrogandherumbrella · 2 years

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Welcome to Nowhere: Graveyard

The sky is a gloomy grey and the air is filled with ash, blocking out the sun. You're surrounded by a flat landscape, covered in headstones. You're standing in a graveyard.

"Whoah." Emerson says behind you.

"Creepy looking, huh?" Gia responds.

Creepy looking indeed. The land around you has been burned. Rather than green grass or flowers, the ground is completely charred, and only a few burnt trees remain by the fence. There isn't a single sign of any kind of life. No insects, no birds, no plants. Yet, you can't shake the feeling that you're being watched. Not just that but...

"Where's the monster?" You ask. The three of you had been underground in the tunnels when you realized the monster was above you, but now that you are above ground there's nothing here.

"It must be hiding." Gia says. "Try searching the graves. Maybe there's something to help us find-"

"Uhm-" Emerson interjects. "Sorry to interrupt but, when you say 'try searching the graves' you don't mean for us to... dig them up do you?"

"Not yet. For now just look at what's written on the headstones. This is the monster's domain, there's probably going to be some kind of information on it around here somewhere. I'll take the upper right corner, you two stick together okay?"

"..Not... yet?" Emerson echoes as Gia walks away.

Sensing his discomfort, you take their hand and give it a comforting squeeze. "Don't worry, like Gia said, we'll probably find something written on the headstones."

"...right." They don't seem convinced.

The two of you walk past various headstones, trying to read the words engraved on them. Most are completely illegible, covered in black mold and slime. The ones you can read are nothing special. Except...

"Rosalind Thatcher", "Emmet Williams", "Marryanne Miller".

"Emerson, doesn't it seem like something's missing?" You ask while looking at the headstone for "Valentina Pérez".

"No... I don't think so." He responds. "Is there?"

You strain your mind, trying to think of what it could be. Your mind responds with silence. Nothing. Were you just imagining it? No, no. There was definitely something. There's something more that goes on headstones than just names. Right? You're sure there is, but what is it? You can't remember.

You answer, "...I don't know." You're sure there's something, but if you can't remember what it is, and Emerson doesn't notice anything odd, then it can't be too important. You look at the next grave, hoping to find anything else out of the ordinary. There's a small indentation towards the top of the stone. You press your thumb to it, and it moves. The round piece of stone rolls back, revealing an eye. It blinks at you.

"Uh... hi?" You say. An eye seemed like it might be out of the ordinary, but you didn't see how it connected to finding the monster. After all, there are eyes everywhere. Even in strange places sometimes.

Your eyes flicker to the rest of the headstone, where the words should be, but this grave is completely blank. That's when it hits you.

"Dates."

Emerson turns to look at you, confused. "Huh?"

"That's what the headstones are missing. Dates. Most of them have names, but none of them have the date of birth or death."

"What are you talking about?" He asks, still confused.

"Well, you know, a gravestone usually has the day someone was born and the day they died engraved as well. All the graves here just have names. "

"I don't understand. Are you okay?"

"What do you-"

"HEY GUYS?" Gia's voice calls out from the distance. "YOU MIGHT WANNA COME LOOK AT THIS!"

#my writing #writers life #weirdcore #weirdcore/dreamcore #dreamcore #writblr #Writers on tumblr #Welcome to Nowhere #work in progress #writerscorner #writers community #writing community #writing #writeblrcafe

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raindownforme · 3 years

Text

He Doesn’t Understand

C!Charlie Slimecicle x reader [they/them used]

Slime ran his hands down the white shirt of his suit, pressing it flatter against his body. Quackity would be downstairs any minute now.

“Hey.” Quackity’s voice rang true as he descended into the room Slime slept in. He bounced up from his bed, running over to Quackity.

“Hi Quackity from Las Nevadas! I’m excited to do gambling!”

“No gambling today buddy.” Quackity chuckled a bit. “I’ve got another thing for you.”

“Oh?” Slime followed Quackity out of the base of the tower towards the entrance to the city Quackity had built. He watched as Quackity extended a hand to gesture off into the distance.

“Do you remember when I had you spy on Purpled?”

“Yes!”

“Good, because I need you to spy on someone else.”

“Okay Quackity from Las Nevadas!” Slime followed Quackity to the outskirts of the SMP. Quackity pointed out to him a lone brick house that sat atop a hill to the west of the community house. Smoke rose from the stone chimney and blew daintily over the landscape.

“That’s y/n. I need you to tell me what they do on day-to-day basis. I need to know where they go. Who they hang out with. Who they trade with.” Quackity turned his back to the SMP. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Yes!” Quackity walked back to Las Nevadas, leaving the green man behind. Slime bounded over towards the hill. He found himself a vantage point, climbing to the top of a spruce tree to watch. He could see into the wide windows of the home, where someone was working over a crafting table.

Slime watched in confusion. y/n did perfectly normal things, shearing their sheep, tending to their farm, and mining in caves. There was nothing unusual about y/n, other than that they were new and made Slime feel… something? It was something he didn’t recognize. Some feeling that itched at his bones — if he had any to begin with — and tore at his heart. He felt warm all over and jittery. He knew he was happy, Quackity told him what happy was. But this was a different happy. It was new. So he kept watching. Slime spent his whole day watching y/n. Spying on them.

When night fell, Slime hurried back to Las Nevadas to meet with his best friend Quackity. He was waiting at the top of the tower that Slime slept under.

“Hey buddy!” Quackity sat at one of the tables. “How was your day?”

“It was good! I think I call it, happy?” Slime sat in the seat next to Quackity, folding his tie so it lay flat against his chest.

“Good good. Here eat this.” Slime took the plate of baked potatoes from Quackity and began to eat sloppily with his hands. He took the whole potato and placed it into his open mouth, letting his slime self absorb it fully. Quackity watched on in horror of Slime’s seemingly normal actions. “Okay. Did they do anything? Anything suspicious?”

“Nope. They didn’t talk to anyone or trade with anyone.” Charlie paused. He looked to his side out the tall windows, gazing out over Las Nevadas. “Why am I spying on them?”

“Because I need to know. They’re new. They’re… unpredictable.” Quackity cut into his dinner with his utensils. “Why don’t you go back tomorrow. Tell me what you see then.”

And he did. Slime went back for the next three days. He went back to the same tree for three days and watched as y/n tended to their crops and went mining and did other meaningless tasks. And every day he went back and told Quackity what had happened and what they had done. Nothing felt eventful about it to the Slime, only the fact that he couldn’t describe how he felt every day he went and watched.

On the fourth day, Slime made a mistake. He had walked up and climbed the tree, as per usual, and had waited and watched. But it had started to rain, and the branch he was sitting on had become slippery, and he fell. He fell all the way from the very top of the tree to the muddy earth below. He opened his eyes wide, hoping that y/n had somehow not seen, but they were standing directly over him.

“Bah!” Slime scrambled to his side, sitting up and leaning against the tree trunk. y/n stood before him, pointing a shovel tip towards his chest.

“Who are you?”

“I-“ He paused. His face felt unexplainable warm. “I’m a human being.”

“Sure.” y/n hesitantly drew back the iron shovel, planting the tip in the dirt. “I’m also human. My name is y/n.”

They knelt down in front of him, extending a hand for him to obviously shake. “DAP ME UP.”

y/n laughed at his outburst, and he felt star struck. Something about the way they laughed was enchanting. He couldn’t look away. “What’s your name buddy?”

He couldn’t think. Quackity had never given him a real name before other than Slime, but he supposed that was more his species. It might be more similar to calling a cat “cat” rather than fluffy or spots. “I don’t have one.”

“Oh. Okay. Why don’t you come inside with me?” y/n stood up, extending their hand again, and this time Slime put his own hand in it. y/n tugged him upright until he was standing, then pulled him inside. “Here. Take this.”

Slime studied the fabric he’d been handed. “A towel!”

“Yeah. Go ahead and dry off and then you can sit anywhere.” y/n turned their back to him as they rummaged through a series of cabinets that hung over their furnace. “Would you like anything to drink? Cocoa? Tea?”

“Cocoa?” Slime sat on a set of oak chairs. He wasn’t sure what cocoa was, but less than a minute later y/n returned with two cups of the piping hot liquid, one for him and one for them. He sipped from it, unsure of if he would enjoy it, but quickly found it to be one of the best things he’d ever drank. Slime chugged the whole mug, nearly slamming it back down on the table.

y/n bit back a grin. They hadn’t drank their cocoa yet, instead using it to warm their palms. “So, a name. I could pick one for you?”

“Yes!” He smiled widely, but he wasn’t sure why he was so eager.

“Okay. Lemme think; Westley, Taylor- no wait!” y/n snapped their fingers, smiling at slime. “Charlie! What about Charlie?”

“I can be Charlie!” Something about seeing y/n happy was euphoric. He wanted to be able to do it every day for ever and ever.

“Good! Well then, Charlie.” y/n released their grip on their mug ever so slightly. “Where are you from?”

“I live in a tower.” He felt as though he should be careful with what he said. Quackity hadn’t told him whether or not y/n was welcomed in Las Nevadas.

“That’s cool.” They sipped from the warm drink. “Do you know anyone else from around? I’ve only lived here a week now and you’re the first person I’ve talked to.”

“I am?” Charlie felt a bubble grow in his chest, but he wasn’t sure what kind of bubble.

“Yeah. I guess that means you’re my first ever friend doesn’t it?”

The term “friend” struck somewhere inside him. It was negative somehow. “Yeah! Friend!”

y/n glanced out towards the windows. “You don’t have anywhere to be do you? It’s almost sunset.”

“Oh. Oh I do!” Charlie stood from his seat. “I have to go home. It was nice meeting you.”

y/n waved as he ran out the door. “It was nice meeting you too. Come back tomorrow.”

And Charlie did. Charlie came back every day for the next week. He liked coming back and seeing y/n. y/n who taught him how to aim a bow. y/n who taught him how to fish. y/n who taught him how to grow carrots. y/n who taught him how to make paintings. y/n who taught him love.

Once when Charlie found himself visiting y/n, early in the morning before he left, Charlie had found himself in front of Foolish. He had walked over to ask the simple question.

“Slime, I think you love them.”

“Love?” He was confused. He hadn’t experienced the word before.

“Did you ever have something or someone you care about? More than you care about yourself?” He didn’t show any signs of recognition and Foolish sighed. “Do you want this person to be happy? So much so that you would do anything?”

“Yes!” He liked seeing y/n happy. He’d help them garden and pick their favorite flowers, and he always cherished the smile on their face.

“Buddy, you love them.” Foolish gave him a halfhearted smile before walking away.

He thought about this conversation on his way to y/n’s house. He paused his walk, one hill away, and looked out. It was earlier in the morning, but it was still the normal time for him to arrive at y/n’s house. He could turn back around. He hadn’t quite told Quackity the honest truth of him and y/n’s relationship. As far as Quackity knew, Slime came home every day and told him how y/n did nothing eventful and had no idea Slime or Quackity existed. Quackity also didn’t know that they called him Charlie, and that he loved the name with everything he had.

Charlie bent down on his knees, picking a flower from the grass, then made his way to y/n’s home.

“Charlie!” They threw open the front door upon seeing him through the window. They launched themselves at him, tackling him in a hug. “What do you want to do today? We could do anything!”

“Yeah!” Charlie wrapped one arm around y/n, the other holding the flower. “I brought you something!”

“You did?” y/n released him, still keeping a hand on his shoulder. “A flower! Aw, Charlie.”

Charlie beamed with pride as y/n gently took the flower from him and went inside to place it in a pot. “I also have something I should tell you.”

y/n returned outside, confusion etched into their face. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Yes!” Charlie felt nervous somehow. He looked down at his fingers. “I am not human. I didn’t want to lie.”

“Oh. I knew that.” He looked up to y/n. They were smiling softly as they leaned against the door frame. Charlie felt his face grow warm and he placed his hands over his cheeks. y/n walked towards him, taking his hands in theirs. “You came here without a name, with slime on your shoulders, and skin that’s sticky to the touch. You don’t have to be embarrassed. I don’t care. Im pretty sure half the people on this planet aren’t human.”

Charlie nodded, looking back up to y/n. “Are you human?”

“Yeah. I mean, as far as I know.” They shrugged, still smiling at him. Charlie felt light, like air. It was love wasn’t it. That’s what had been consuming him this whole time. What he’d been feeling every time he looked at y/n. Every time they spoke. Every time they did anything.

“I love you.”

“What?” y/n took a step back from Charlie, their hand still hovering near him. He felt his heart reach out for them.

“I love you. I talked to Foolish because I didn’t understand what I was feeling, and now I do! Because I love you. I have loved you since I first saw you.” Charlie smiled widely, proud of himself. He waited for y/n to say something, but they stood there in shock. “I thought I should be honest. Did I say something wrong?”

“No! No Charlie you didn’t.” y/n relaxed. They leaned forwards towards Charlie, now taking his hand and lacing their fingers together. Charlie held his breath, smiling as he stared at the hands. “I just want you to be sure that’s what you meant.”

“Yes! Yes it is.” y/n softly smiled, taking one hand and resting it on Charlie’s cheek, using their thumb to gently rub the skin. Charlie felt his face burn at the touch, but he leaned into it. y/n took their other hand out of Charlie’s grasp and placed it on his other cheek. They pulled him close, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. Charlie froze, lightly touching his hand to his lips. “Did you kiss me?”

“Is that alright?” y/n moved back, their hands sliding off his face. Charlie took his arms around y/n’s waist, pulling them into a tight hug. He put his forehead in the crook of their neck. y/n laughed lightly, pulling him closer again. “I love you too, Charlie.”

Charlie bent backwards, lifting y/n upwards. They laughed as Charlie spun them around. “I love you! I love you I love you I love you!”

“I love you to Charlie.”

He stopped, setting them back on their feet. y/n smiled wildly, breathless and love struck. “Can you kiss me again?”

y/n giggled, obliging to do so. They lightly kissed him on cheek, then his nose, his eyebrow, his chin, and anywhere else. They scattered kisses all across his face, avoiding his lips. “Is that what you meant?”

“No!” Charlie didn’t quite understand why they were laughing. He put his hand on their face, similar to what they had done, and firmly kissed them. He felt them relax under his touch, smiling into the contact.

Eventually y/n pulled away, needing to breath. They smiled at him and Charlie felt his face flush. “Was that your plan for today?”

Charlie relaxed his shoulders. “I didn’t have a plan.”

“Then come inside.”

y/n tugged Charlie into the home. The two spent the rest of the day together, baking cookies, reading stories, and doing any other odd tasks. The day soon came to an end, however, and Charlie had to leave.

“Come back tomorrow. Please.” y/n held his hand, keeping him later than he intended. It was nearly dark outside, and he was usually in Las Nevadas right now.

“I will.” Charlie quickly kissed y/n’s forehead and dashed off towards his country. He made it over the hills as quickly as possible, getting past the welcome sign before complete darkness fell, and racing up to the top of the tower.

Quackity stood pacing the railing. The dinner set out for the two had long gone cold by now. Quackity kept mumbling to himself, constantly fiddling with the end of his tie. Charlie walked over to his friend, lightly tapping him on the shoulder.

“Slime? Where the fuck were you? It’s been an hour. Jesus Christ I thought- where were you?”

“I was with y/n.”

“Right the spying. Listen I don’t think you should do that anymore.”

Charlie felt his heart shatter. “Why? I thought you wanted-?”

“I know what I wanted.” Quackity waved a hand at Charlie’s words. He overlooked the growing country, then turned back to Charlie. “They’re not a threat to us, they can’t help us in any way, and I don’t want you disappearing again.”

“But I-“ Charlie stopped himself, unsure of how to speak his mind. “I want to go back.”

“Why? It’s just y/n.”

“It is them. Its y/n.”

Quackity looked at him incredulously. “Did you talk to y/n? Buddy I told you not to- for how long? How long has this been happening?”

“I talked to Foolish-“

“Foolish knew?” Quackity was activated. He rolled up his sleeves. “Buddy you got lucky with Purpled, not everyone’s like that. You’re gonna get hurt.”

“y/n wouldn’t hurt me. They love me.”

“And how are you so sure?”

“Because I love them.”

Quackity scoffed, resting his hands on his hips. “You don’t know what love is. You’re not even a person you’re- you’re a slime. You said it yourself.”

“Was Sapnap a person?”

Charlie watched Quackity freeze. He lowered his hands to his side in clenched fists as a sneer grew on his face. “What did you say?”

“You said I’m not a person. Was Sapnap? Was Karl?”

“You don’t get to fucking talk about them.” Quackity moved towards him. “You don’t get to even fucking think about them.”

“Then why am I different? Why is y/n different?”

“Because-“ Quackity bit back what he wanted to say.

“Quackity. What’s my name.”

“You have a name. I call you Slime. I call you buddy. That’s what everyone calls you.”

“y/n gave me a name. They call me Charlie.”

“Charlie? What and you like it? Some basic-ass name?”

“It’s MY basic-ass name!”

“Jesus christ.” Quackity sighed, rubbing at his temple with his fingers. “You’re not going back.”

Charlie tilted his head. “Why?”

“Because I don’t know them! You don’t know anyone other than the people who live here and you’re just out there in love with a stranger. I feel responsible for you, Slime.”

“It’s Charlie.”

“Okay, Charlie, I’m responsible for you. So you’re not going back. No negotiation. Got that?”

Charlie paused. He looked out over the Las Nevadas skyline, then back to Quackity with a smile. “I think you’d like them.”

“Yeah. Sure I’ll see you in the morning bud.”

Charlie watched Quackity walk towards the center of the tower, dropping downwards towards the ground. Charlie went to follow but stopped. He stared at the plates of cold food left behind. Both untouched.

———

Charlie woke up quickly. Everything around him was quiet and cold, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was morning. Charlie rose from his bed and made his way to the top of his stair case. He looked out to see the sun was still rising over the horizon, painting Las Nevadas in golden light. The fountain bubbled as Charlie walked towards it. The lights inside seemed beautiful.

Charlie didn’t understand. He didn’t understand why Quackity wouldn’t let him see y/n. y/n was nice. y/n made him hot cocoa and told him stories and taught him so many things. And y/n was so pretty. y/n made Charlie feel loved. Like he was important. Like he was floating to the heavens. y/n made Charlie happy! And he wanted Quackity to be happy. Would he be happy if he met y/n?

Charlie shook his head. Quackity seemed upset last night. He wanted Quackity to be happy, but not the way that y/n made him happy. He wasn’t sure what to call it.

Charlie looked back to the tall, white casino. In an hour, Quackity would wake up and leave, coming to wake Charlie, but in less than a minute Charlie made his own decision. He turned away from the casino and proudly walked out of Las Nevadas.

He walked all the way to y/n’s house. When he arrived, the sun had barely moved, and he could see the same golden light illuminating the front windows of y/n’s house. Charlie clumsily knocked on their front door.

“Hello?” y/n slowly opened the door. Their eyes were closed and their hair stuck out different ways. Their pajamas loosely hung off their body as they slumped against the door frame. Charlie’s heart swelled. They were adorable.

Charlie rushed forwards to pick them up, wrapping them in a hug as he swept them back inside. “y/n!”

“G’morning Charlie.” y/n mumbled as they leaned back into his shoulder. “It’s early. You know that right?”

Charlie shrugged, setting them down and stepping back to make sure the door closed. “I wanted to be here.”

“Fine. But I’m going back to sleep.” Charlie watched y/n tread down a hallway, and he followed. They led him to a room with a large plush bed and they flipped into it, rolling to the side. They smiled at Charlie, looking at him standing in the door way. “I’m gonna sleep. Would you also like to lay down?”

Awkwardly, Charlie sat on the edge of the bed. He fell backwards into it, letting the softness consume him. He turned his head upwards, looking at y/n as they giggled. They stretched a hand towards him, enveloping his own hand. “This is nice.”

“Good. Goodnight. Love you.”

Charlie shivered, the unfamiliar words sending ripples over his skin. “I love you too.”

———

Charlie woke up in a weird mood. The bed was empty, and the house was noisy. It sounded like talking, between two different voices he knew really well.

Charlie walked quickly to the main room of y/n’s house. They stood in the door, still wearing pajamas, facing Quackity as he stood in the door. Quackity spotted Charlie almost immediately.

“Slime. Buddy.” Quackity tried to shove y/n aside, but they grabbed him by the shirt collar and slammed his against the wall.

y/n turned around, looking at Charlie. “You know him?” Charlie nodded, and y/n let go, allowing him to approach Charlie.

“It’s time to go man.” Quackity very lightly gripped the hilt of the sword that rested on his hip. “I told you.”

“But I-“ Charlie looked at y/n with pleading eyes. “I don’t want to go.”-

“He doesn’t have to go anywhere he doesn’t want to.” y/n side stepped between Quackity and Charlie. “He can make his own decisions.”

“This isn’t about you.”

“You’re in my house you’ll fucking listen to me.” Charlie took note of the small kitchen knife in their hand, concealed away from Quackity’s vision. “Charlie can decide for himself.”

Quackity sneered at them. “Would you shut up? This isn’t any of your fucking business. He’s my fucking friend and we’re going back to my fucking country that you’re not fucking part of. Charlie.” He looked over at the boy. “I mean- Shit. Slime. We’re going.”

“No.” Charlie stepped back. “My name is Charlie. I’m staying here. I want to stay here.”

“God you don’t— that’s not—“ Quackity sighed, running his hands over his head. “Fine. Great that’s awesome. You know what? Just don’t come back when this whole charade is over, because there won’t be a place for you.”

Quackity slammed the door shut on his way out. y/n turned to Charlie, loosing the tight grip on the knife. “You don’t have to stay. He’s your friend.”

“I’ve seen this place. I don’t think he should talk to me like that.” Charlie tapped at his cheek with his fingers. Water was falling from his eyes and setting his skin. He kept wiping at it , desperately trying to be rid of the water, until y/n took his hands away. They wrapped their arms over the tops of his shoulders, pulling him into a hug. “I don’t- I don’t understand it won’t stop. I don’t understand.”

y/n didn’t say anything. They simply threaded their fingers through the hair at the base of his neck, doing their best to comfort him.

The house was quiet.

#charlie slimecicle #c!charlie #c!slimecicle #dsmp x reader #dsmp #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #dsmp fanfic #slimecicle #slimecicle x reader #charlie slimecicle my beloved #this took me days #lowkey proud of it

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