#bloodlike warning

[thatlittlered]

the craft | celebrimbor

warning(s): afab!reader (use of the word lady), very discreet spoilers for rings of power

GIF by @leotanaka

author's note: i think i deserve a little kiss for my use of the title craft because of its dual meaning, don't you? going to write another part, unless I don't because I can't be trusted :)

also, requests for rings of power characters are open for now! give me some ideas and I'll see what I can do.

-.-.-

A beautiful sunset melts from golden to orange and fiery red hues, almost as crimson as the seeds of pomegranate in your fingers. Fruit of the only such tree in the whole of Eregion and yet another undoubtedly hospitable gift from the Elf-lord Celebrimbor, whose kindness and generosity have proven to be as boundless as his artistry.

 A guest within his palace for far longer than initially intended, you cannot help but feel horribly indebted to him; a sentiment he has always refused to allow you to express and instead showered you with even more gifts, so many that you could not possibly take them with you if and when you are ever to return home, or whatever might be left of it once these dark times are hopefully over. Such is the cup you are currently enjoying warm tea from, the kind that he personally recommended and had sent to you. Laced with intricate carvings of beautiful flowers you do not think you’ve ever even seen in your long lifetime, this gift surpasses the simple nature of others, for it was crafted especially for you and whilst you may not know this part, bears the likeness of his favourite flora that grows near the bank of the river Bruinen, where he had hoped to take you soon. Alas, his tender plans were soon cast aside when the mysterious stranger Halbrand unbeknownst to you, began to seduce him into isolation and an obsessive mulling over the Nine.

 You have not met with Celebrimbor in weeks and his forge, which had previously been open to you in yet another attempt to make you feel welcome and perhaps even timidly show off his craft, now remains completely shut off from the rest of the world. Your gentle requests to meet with the Elven-smith go unanswered, as do your letters to the dear and endlessly respected friends who had sent you here in the first place. Of course, neither attempt at communication ever reaches its intended receiver. The stranger has made sure of that, and while you suspect something is amiss, all this silence has become its own form of isolation.

 You were sent here as a trusted friend, meant to provide guidance and council while the High King leads the way toward the necessary path of war and your other companions follow, yet the situation has rendered you incapable of aiding either cause. It seems there is nothing to do but wait and carry on enjoying the commodities the Elf-lord sends your way despite his absence.

 As if brought to life by the intensity of your thoughts, there is gentle knocking on your door, the kind you recognize from the often times he has been so eager to be in your company before.

“Come in.”

 You try to wipe your fingers clean from the evidence of the sweet seeds, but his rushed entry in your chamber surprises you. Your still-stained thumb leaves the smallest of bloodlike marks on your tunic, but you do not notice when your eyes meet Celebrimbor’s. A smile blooms on his tired face instantly as he once again rushes to approach you.

“My dear friend, glassen na chen cenin.” It is my joy to see you.

 You move to take hold of his hands in reverence, but he once again surprises you by grasping your face in his palms instead. The stranger’s persuasion has given him a newfound confidence along with a sense of purpose, when he had been as shy as a youngling in your presence before.

“My Lady.”

 The title he has given you is not one of true nobility, for you bear no such titles, but one that simply rolls off his tongue in his endless admiration of you. Anything else seems too intimate when he tries to speak it, even your name in itself. His thoughts are muddled and overwhelming in your presence.

 His palms are warm and surprisingly soft when they hold you. It is impossible not to smile.

“I did not expect your visit, but I am glad to be proven wrong.”

 He frowns gently and you cannot help but admire the creases of his lovely face as they are illuminated by the last rays of sun for the day.

“I am deeply sorry for my absence. I can only hope you do not think I have abandoned you, for in my heart and thoughts, I am always with you.”

 Your own hand caresses just above his brow in an attempt to soothe him. He always worries so, but you would gladly take over each and every of his burdens if it meant he would finally be at peace. He has never spoken words like these to you before, always hiding behind the cloak of hospitality in an effort to be close to you. Celebrimbor, the Ñoldorin prince and last of the line of the Fëanor, has inherited none of his ancestors’ pride, but instead carries the shame of their actions deep within his soul, where it most wounds him. It is that shame that has for so long allowed him to succumb to loneliness and refrain from fantasies of greatness.

 Annatar’s revelation comes as a gift, a holy permission, to bring forth life’s work that could dare to compete with that of those who came before him. It allows him to venture and now, clad in this new air of hope and ambition, come before you as he truly is and as he truly hopes to be beside you.

“I couldn’t possibly think myself abandoned when you shower me with gifts, even in your absence. I am aware of the weight that has been placed upon your shoulders and you have rightfully given your time to more important matters, or persons.”

“None as important as you. Please, do not mistake it for hospitality, for I act based on my own selfish affections.”

“How can any such affection be selfish? I would say it is anything but.”

“Oh, but I fear it is. Even my coming here is to satisfy my own longing after having spent so many morns and nights without seeing you.”

 Neither of you possess the poetic prowess to capture the tenderness of this moment, the ceaseless warmth of still being held in his hands without a regard to impropriety. Even if you did, words would undoubtedly fall short.

“Well, I am glad to have your company, for as long as you can spare it.”

“I never wish to withhold it again.”

 Celebrimbor melts into this half-embrace until his forehead gently leans on yours.

“I only wish I could be of assistance and help you bear this great burden.”

“Your mere presence renders my soul lighter, guren vell,” my sweet heart, “but I know now that what has been bestowed upon me is not a burden, but a gift unlike no other. Just as you are. I have been sworn to silence, but know that we have been blessed and when my work is finished, our woes will be over.”

 Something has changed within him and it is there for everyone with eyes to see.

 It worries you.

“Sworn to secrecy? Even from me, who knows the truth of your assignment?”

 He lays a gentle kiss on your forehead, holding you even closer.

“What started as a desperate attempt to clutch at whatever power can be wielded in our favour during these trying times, has now become much larger, much more important than I could have ever imagined. Bigger than you or I, for it was brought forth by a glorious agent of Valinor and now I can finally be of use to this greater cause.”

 He senses the uncertainty in you before you can speak it.

“You must think I’ve gone mad.”

“Of course not. I would trust you with my life, my faith knows no bounds. My hesitance is rooted in concern.”

“Concern for the safety of the rings?”

“Concern for you, melethron nîn.” My beloved.

 There is such emotion in the way he is looking at you.

“I cannot gainsay that which has been asked of me, but afterward…”

“Afterward?”

“After I have proven myself worthy, perhaps you would consider staying here, with me. Perhaps then I will be someone you could imagine a life with.”

“Oh, Celebrimbor, you already are. What words must I speak for you to know the depth of my feelings?”

 Words are miniscule when faced with the self-doubt that’s so deeply rooted within him. The stranger has seen this and taken full advantage. The promise of glory has overshadowed the love you so willingly offer, even though the allure of recognition was that he might come to deserve it in the first place. His adoring smile distracts from how flat your reassurance has fallen. His mind is set.

“When all of this is over, I promise to devote myself wholly to you and only you. Gerog i chûn nîn. Until then...” You hold my heart. His hands leave your skin for a moment in order to produce what must be a gift, neatly wrapped in rich velvet fabric. “It is nothing of great significance, but I wanted you to have these.”

 You carefully unwrap it, only to find inside the most beautiful jewels, cast in gold and carved with astounding detail, so much so that you can clearly make out every petal, every stem of the flowers he has chosen that remind him of you.

“I noticed you like to adorn your hair. I thought these might be to your liking, though my hands could never make something akin your beauty. Only the Valar can master such a craft and you are the living proof.”

 Such sweetness comes from his mouth. Such thoughtfulness to even now, amidst the chaos he was forced in, dedicate all this time and effort to something just for you.

“Nothing of great significance? This is the most significant gift I have ever received. The gift of all gifts; a token of your love.”

 Proper elven courtship is forgotten when your eyes lock again. A kiss is required for the sake of both of your sanities and you happily initiate. You would have thought him shy and reserved, but he quickly responds in equal fervour. Your lips are soft against his thin ones and his heart sings. If only he could find within him the words to convey that. Nevertheless, you do not require it of him and he loves you even more for it.

 You are content to stay where you are; mouths and bodies tenderly interlocked. When you part, there are only childish grins to be shared, ones not to be expected from eternal beings, but perhaps maturity comes hand in hand with love and the two of you have only now found it.

“Might I?”

 With an approving nod, you turn your back on him, once again placing your trust in the man you’ve come to love. He laces his fingers in your hair so gently, as if set to work on fragile sheets of gold, but to him, any part of you is far more precious. You feel him carefully pick strands and clasp in them in the lovely jewels, up until the last one. Curiosity wins and you try to turn your head enough to see, only to witness him touch your hair against his lips before adding the last one.

 Celebrimbor blushes upon being caught, but does not look away. You take this opportunity to simply look at each other. He wishes to gather you in his arms, but does not dare. You, again, are happy to take the initiative, but he stops you before you can embrace him fully.

“Are you hurt?”

 There is ample confusion until you feel his hand gather in the skirt of your tunic where the blood-like stain still resides. The panic on his face is touching, yet unnecessary.

“Do not worry, my love, it is only pomegranate.”

 When in your arms again, he seemingly relaxes, yet his mind is still racing. A familiar sense of dread pools somewhere within him.

 This is a bad omen.

[kenzietensei]

Thoughts on sweet pool

So, I installed this game on my laptop a couple years ago, and only played about an hour into it at the time. This past week I was dogsitting and my laptop was with me, so I thought to play through the various endings of sweet pool.

I'd gotten the game because I read a tumblr post about the history of omegaverse, and I thought it would be interesting to see the origin of some of those tropes. I'm not into omegaverse, though I've read one or two fics using that setup. I'm not really into BL either, and most visual novels I've played have been otome or mystery stories. Also not a fan of gore or horror! So, uh, really not the audience for this title XD

Even so, I found the game compelling and it's been rotating in my brain the last few days since I got through the whole thing. There are a couple points in which I think my perspective might be unique so I figured I'd share. Spoilers below. If you're familiar with the plot, you'd also know what content warnings might apply here, so keep that in mind too >.>

First, I wanna go over some points I haven't really seen discussed/explicated anywhere that stuck out to me!

About the parasites:

The infodump that Kitani reads mentions markmeat, which I've seen reviews refer to as the stuff Youji passes. I'm pretty certain the fleshy bits are actually the fleshseeds and the markmeat is the 'bloodlike' pheromone which seeps out of Youji's neck.

The only people who can see this stuff is supposedly hosts. If you're a host, you'll become either Osu or Mesu. But it's unclear when that transition happens. Is it like a secondary puberty? Zenya's issues have been with him a long time, but he's also an unusual case. Tetsuo has had regenerative talent from childhood. Youji's accident was several years ago, but only very recently has he begun emitting pheromones.

There are at least two other people who can see these signs of the parasite who are unaffiliated with the cult as far as we know! There are rumors going around the school of blood and guts in the chem lab, and a separate rumor about blood and guts in the boys bathroom. Both incidents come about through a male student becoming alarmed and upset upon seeing something no one else can confirm is there. If it had been the same kid, I think the rumors would go a little differently (aka such and such has gone mad, that sort of thing) so I think its fair to say that more than one boy is effected. This indicates these boys are hosts, and also that they don't know about the biological aspects, at the absolute least.

Who are these kids? Are they children who were exposed like Zenya was? If they knew about the cult, they probably wouldn't have freaked out in public, so they're uninitiated and possibly not experiencing any symptoms (IE the way Youji was?). Receiving purebreed flesh is the only way we really see discussed for becoming a host, but then how did Tetsuo develop? Do some people just inherit this from their parents?

Speaking of inheritance, Youji's situation introduces some questions too. He seems to have been physically passed along his father's parasite during the accident... like it entered his wound and this ultimately revived/remade him. Whether Youji was going to eventually develop into a host through inheriting that in a different way, had the accident never occurred, isn't discussed. In the pool, Youji can will himself to do the same for Tetsuo - so did his parasite enter Tetsuo? Taken with the state Youji is in during that epilogue, it's pretty vague what happened. But should we take that to mean that a new parasite melding into the body of a host can revive them?

We are given a decent idea of what Osu and Mesu are. But there seem to be others involved with the cult who aren't dealing with these same symptoms. Kamiya is around high school boys every day and not driving any of them mad. Kunihito couldn't see the Sodomites until after he was shot - even though his family were long time participants in the cult. Furthermore, had either of them been Osu, wouldn't they have been interested to learn of Youji the Mesu? So, are they hosts? Interestingly, there's a moment in the school with Kunihito that makes me really wonder. Kitani interacts with his boss, who is alive (even though narration from Youji earlier seemed to indicate Kunihito had died) for the moment. Then Kitani sees a wriggler entering a wound, and it seems to be attached firmly. He rips it away and shoots it, and then next thing you know, Kunihito is dead. Was that his parasite, keeping him alive, or a new Sodomite trying to enter as a parasite and then reform Kunihito's body? Did Kitani's actions here actually doom his boss?

Can you have a host and then lose it? Might Zenya's state have been fixed by removing the inner being? As a fierce believer, it's obvious why Kunihito wouldn't have opted to do that, though. But I feel like the grand ending suggests that Tetsuo has lost this aspect of himself in the epilogue. He takes a long time to heal, after all. Perhaps in wishing they could live together as humans, Youji caused their parasites to detach?

The whole situation with Youji is so bizarre. He's perpetually weak with a lung disorder, lives barely nourishing himself, and experiences numerous intense injuries over the course of like 2 weeks while undergoing debilitating physical changes. I get why, bereft of regenerative abilities, he would die at the end of the plot.

I think the violins version of Miracles May suggests Youji succeeds in saving Tetsuo at the cost of himself. And the grand ending seems to say that in rejecting the Sodomites, in not sacrificing himself for Tetsuo, Youji does not get his wish in full - he wants to live on with Tetsuo as humans, which I think only half works (Tetsuo managed to pull through after being wounded), and Tetsuo speaks his name one last time, but I don't think Youji is truly around anymore. But I feel like Tetsuo is a human at this point. And perhaps Youji died as a human, too. I just don't get why there was an attempt to cover up his passing? Like the scandal at the academy is already pretty bad, wouldn't it make enough sense to say two students stopped into the school that day and both were accosted by the yakuza and one of them perished? It seems like it's vague just to confuse the audience.

About the characters:

Was Makoto sensitive to the pheromones just cause he happened to be? Or like was it because he was attracted to men that the pheromone could harm him like that? Because I feel like either reading is supported by the text. At what point, removed from the impact of the pheromones, would Makoto regain his sanity? He seems himself when we see him in the hospital. But in his ending, a week has passed since Youji disappeared. We can't know how long it's been since only bones remain - like at what point will the Mesu pheromones no longer be present in Makoto's system? He seems to be still outside his own control at the close of his story.

On endings, it's pointed out that purebreeds can use pheromones to control even normal people. But the degree of *control* is something I wonder about. Like, Youji's pheromones elicited control over others, chaining them to a desire beyond their own sanity. But Youji isn't the one holding the leash, so to speak. Tetsuo's scent also caused this to happen to Youji. And like, the ending where they breed & the prominence of instinct in that route suggests that this final choice is something they submit to rather than a choice they make under their own rational control. So I wonder about the purebreeds ability to control others... is it an active ability, or does it elicit an instinctual response in others?

We see the lump of flesh that Kunihito worships, and from his uncle's journal we know he was once a captivating young man. But he "gave too much of himself to his followers" and now is a weakened flesh slab... Honestly this whole bit of the journal is super suspect. It's phrased like that was a thing the purebreed did of it's own volition, but I don't think we're supposed to accept that at face value. As more of it's flesh was taken, it became weaker - so weak, that members of the organization were sufficiently outside of it's "control" to act on a revolt. Up to that point, was the cult compelled to consume the purebreed's flesh, regardless of it's wishes, due to it's outrageous pheromones? Or did the purebreed willingly give of itself but go to far and tipped the balance of control outside it's own favor? Could the cult have failed at this moment, and prevented the events of the story from ever coming to pass? It seems like there are other purebreeds elsewhere in the world, though, or have been throughout history, so I don't know that the japanese branch falling would end the Sodomites' bid to live on.

Uncle Okinaga can't explain why he tried to protect the purebreed, only that he was compelled to do so in remembering the boy's smile. In one route, Kitani encounters the newborn purebreed. Is he a slave from this point on? Will Kitani end up feeding on the purebreed? It's an uncomfortable question I was left with.

Speaking of Kitani, I feel really mixed about him. On the one hand, he is sympathetic. His shit childhood leads to him forming a traumatic bond with Kunihito. This is actually one of the most upsetting moments of the game, for me! Lol moreso than the gore, tbh. He's at his lowest moment, his body is failing, and this powerful man comes and exerts that power over him through assault. Kitani's instincts take over (he struggles to live). Kunihito says, work for me, you might as well die for a purpose... It really mirrors what happens to Youji so strongly! Like, Youji's connection to Tetsuo is in many ways just the same as this - he is overpowered by Tetsuo, and in the horror of his changing biology, Youji finds that being accepted as he is to be worth the discomforting aspects of the bond. Kitani likewise accepts the worst aspects of the Okinaga family as the price for having a place and a people to belong to. It isn't a loyalty earned through goodness or affection. In the Diving Deep ending, Kitani is said to feel aimless and purposeless without his family, and it seems like he might not care about living any longer. We see in different endings Youji submit his own life to the cost of a 'higher purpose,' whether that be procreation or saving Tetsuo. Ultimately, I don't think either of these men really formed healthy attachments to others and it is worthy of sympathy.

On the other hand! Kitani has committed himself to the Okinaga family, to the point that his support of them is more instinctual than rational choice. He knows it's abnormal, but he still goes ahead and does the eyeball thing, supports Kunihito's religious fervor, never intervenes in anything they've got going on (until the point comes where outside forces - Kamiya - threaten his family). He feels horrible about hurting women and children, but he beats a high schooler on orders from Zenya, and helps Zenya kidnap Tetsuo and Youji. Like, I think he'd already looked into Youji's background at this point, so once Zenya's done with Youji for the time being, Kitani knowingly dumps this frail, frequently hospitalized boy who has just undergone a brutal beating in the trash disposal area of the house where he lives alone with no one to care for him. That is abhorrent. Then, he helps Zenya kidnap this same boy a second time, at which point the boy is kept as a sex slave. Kitani is not in the dark about this - he is an adult and knows both Kunihito and Zenya are mentally unstable, and that these actions are not only harmful or illegal, but seriously jeopardize Youji's life. And then, the real kicker? Zenya really loved it when Kitani sewed Kristi a lil yukata to match Zenya's outfit. So, Kitani dutifully makes his new pet, Youji, an outfit as well! I'm sure seeing Zenya so happy really made it all worth it, huh Kitani?

About my feelings:

So, I played this game at a point in time where I was actively on my period lol I still am right now as a matter of fact. And although I initially started it earlier before this was part of my life, in the interim time I had bariatric surgery and have developed a different relationship to food, hunger, my biology, and the often uncomfortable bowel changes that came with it.

It's horrible, but my partner didn't flinch away from the hard truths that came with major surgery. We've had to discuss diarrhea and incontinence and foul gas. Early on, there were days I thought I would die of embarrassment, but he loved me regardless. Thankfully, the biggest problems of the early days are mostly a thing of the past, but it's not something I'm liable to ever forget. I felt so bad for Youji, going through something that altered him intrinsically like that, with no one to support him. When he takes Tetsuo's actions to be unconditional acceptance of his mortifying biology, this leads Youji to bond with the man at the expense of his own being. He becomes subsumed into this bond. Had Erika's situation been different at the time, I don't think Youji would have clung to Tetsuo's lack of repulsion as if it were love.

Further, I felt a kinship to Youji's difficulty feeding himself that was absolutely absent the first time I played any of the game. Having been through a great deal of nausea, food repulsion, and experiencing my body at it's weakest, I was just as worried about his health as before but more sympathetic to the forces at play than last time.

As for the menstrual aspect, I can totally vibe with the idea that this bodily change is a repulsive, dirty, shame-inducing experience which alienates a person from their peers and from their own body. When I'm on my period, I do feel like my body is outside of my control, and knowing it's for a function (childbirth) isn't some welcome news. Like I have to put aside myself as an individual person (mind) to deal with the realities of my form (woman) for the time being, and it's jarring and uncomfortable. In this regard, I feel the reason vs instinct system is so well supported by the story's themes!

Also, uh, as someone who has experienced painful sex, anal sex, and painful anal sex in my life, the sex scenes were pretty intense to play through. Like the agony is well written and Youji's lack of consent is ever present. When he becomes aroused, it is not treated as if that is equivalent to consent, which I especially appreciated as this is something of a problem when it comes to discussing the rape of men in particular. Even when Youji is participating in sexual interaction, the way the biological aspect has been laid out, with the pheromones and everything, makes consent not really possible. While Youji comes to feel a bond with Tetsuo, it is due to their biology moreso than a romantic connection, and this seems like something borne from the need to mate rather than driven by who they are as *people.*

I do think it's interesting that this game is so focused on biological functions. The drive to breed, which in some species does indeed come at the expense of the parents' lives, is only one thread of this theme. The need to nourish oneself is definitely very present. And then digestion and expelling waste comes into play in a highly unusual way, lol. I found the mention of the myrmecoleon to be thematically resonant and perplexing at the same time. From Kamiya's comments, each half is biologically at odds with the other. I wondered how this was meant to be taken in conjunction with the story. Like, Youji doesn't eat, but he produces this new flesh and passes it - the flesh seeds are not a product of what he takes in. And it doesn't seem like not eating is enough to kill Youji based on what we see. But Kamiya's statement that maybe one end could survive if it would reject the other is kind of weird. You can read it as saying one part can survive - either the reasonable part of the being (the human) or the instinctual aspect (the parasite). There is no fusion of the two possible, no coexistence. It makes enough sense in regards to Youji, but it's a little confusing if you try to apply it to the Osu-Mesu pairing (two halves of a whole). I kind of felt that it was saying only one of the two could have their wishes fulfilled/their needs respected. Since Youji is getting raped all the time, I thought that's what Kamiya was getting at, at first. And if you take it to the breeding stuff, it is also confusing, Kamiya! What we see of their copulation, producing a purebreed is very much a matter of fusion, so it reads at odds with the myrmecoleon bit. If you see the lion and the ant as humans and Sodomites in their separate species, that's also kinda weird. I think its meant to represent that the hosts are these third kinds of beings - both ant and lion - and that their existence is at odds with both parts of their biology. It really leaves me wondering how the hosts and purebreeds thing is supposed to accomplish anything for the Sodomites. It's not clear what they're gaining from this, though it also isn't clear that any alternative is available to them. The drive to exist is strong enough that they must attempt to continue the species, no matter what indignities it requires, I guess?

Overall, I left the game feeling very unsettled (the music is SO effective, omfg) and on edge. Hopefully having written out my thoughts will help me to move on from sweet pool!! Can't really say I'm glad I played it - I was curious about how it related to omegaverse and it was indeed fascinating to see the root of those tropes being developed - but it didn't do anything for me in that doki-doki kind of way and left me more agitated than moved by its emotional stuff. I do think it was very well written, and well conceived, and well produced. I'd love to talk about it with other people, though I doubt I'd ever play it again or be likely to recommend it.

Thanks for reading this crazy long post :3

[sc3m0-st1mz]

WELKUM 2 DA STIM ZONE!!!1!1

> REQUESTS OPEN! CLICK 4 INFO <

hiiiii, i'm RILEY and this iz my stimblr blog!!!! [4 my main blog go 2 @gl1tz1]. i'm a scemo kid who likez bright colorz and flashing gifz!! (i'm also photosensitive, so, oopz XP)

i have v hyperaktive ADHD and autism, n tend 2 be very understimulated, so stimblr rockz 4 me!!!!!!

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[ID in alt text, all blinkiez from blinkies.cafe except happy ween/rawr XD]

also i luv blinkiez XD // tagging system iz under da cut!!!

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[anomalous-antagonist]

"..."

>[He leans a little lower, his breath shaky. Wiping off the black tear coats Jasper's fingers in a sort of bloodlike substance, though Ant doesn't seem hurt. At least not right now.]

>[Without warning, he pushes Jasper back down (a little more gently than before however,) and lays his chin on the blonde's chest, still letting out the pathetic noises of his. He seems to be sort of pouting, like a dog when it's caught doing something wrong.]

>[Does he think part of this is his fault? It sort of feels like that. Like he was worried he had done something to make Jasper forget him, and even with this confirmation, he still feels guilt.]

> [ Guilt. Lots of it. His chest was tight with the feeling, and he wanted to apologize. He was fiddling with his sleeves, nervous. Any loud noise would cause him panic. ]

"... h-hey... Ant...?"

> [ His voice, familiar and warm. ]

( @doppelcoworker )

>[Growling.]

>[Bright red eyes are staring at him from the darkness. And the sound of static, and that growling.]

>[It's clear Jasper is unwelcome. But it's hard to know why]

>[At the sound of Jasper's voice the growling turns to a snarl. Low and hostile. Ant doesn't seem like himself. And... he doesn't really look like himself either.]

[calmsmedown]

“Perhaps searching for those

That live in a lightless world

Will give you a happy day

And a Merry, Merry Yule.”

the yule cat (folklore) stim board

day 5 of santacore by @monstercat-stims and @sensorynurse

credits below - all gifs made by me

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1: dreaminchristmas on instagram

2: tiger.lilly_and_lady.jane on instagram

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[castlebay-crossing]

The Villager in Tent Three: Chapter Three

Summary: When Aisling leaves her hometown for the island of Castlebay, as part of Tom Nook’s Deserted Island getaway package, all she expects is sun, sand and plenty of solitude. But when she gets there, not everything is as the brochure said. Secretive villagers, judgemental neighbours, and an antagonistic photographer turn out to be the least of her worries, however, when the mysterious villager in tent three turns up dead one night after a vicious storm that left the only plane off the island grounded. Someone on the island is a murderer. And it’s up to Aisling to work out who it is. Before they come after her, too.

Warning: Major character death, some description of violence

Other Links: Readable on AO3 and FFN.

A/N: Hoo boy, this one was a labour of love! Bit of a long chapter and a fair amount of stuff happens in it! Next chapter will likely be another long one with a lot of stuff also happening, then we’ll be dialling back to island life for a little while! So I hope you will continue to accompany me on this journey! Thank you to everyone who’s read, liked and reblogged so far! I really do appreciate every interaction! 

.-.-.

March 2nd, 2020 – Morning 

The medicine Muffy bought me worked like a charm. It came in two parts – a soft, sweet-smelling cream and a packet of small pink tablets. “Will cure most (non-fatal) illnesses and injuries!” the label boasted. I hoped I’d never have to test it on anything worse than the occasional sickness bug or ache and pain. Muffy helped me spread the cream along the injury and immediately, I felt the sting fade.

“Good as new, nightshade!” she trilled. “Do you feel better now?”

It really was quite remarkable how quickly it worked. Even the swelling looked like it was going down. “Much better, thank you.” I said. “Are you sure I can’t give you anything for the medicine, Muffy? Can I pay you back in some way? I feel bad you had to pay for it yourself.”

Muffy waved her paws at me. “I don’t need any Bells, nightshade! But, I suppose…” she tilted her head, considering. “One thing I do need is a punnet of fresh cherries. I ran out this morning when I used the last on my toast.”

I tried not to think too much about the concept of cherries on toast.

“You’ve seen the cherry trees, right?” she continued. “Even though fruit grows super-quick here, most of the trees near my tent have been picked clean. And the ones growing here aren’t quite ripe enough. But Bill told me there’s a huge patch of them right at the top of the island. I was going to go up but I’m too small to reach the best ones.”

“So you want me to get you… cherries?”

“Absolutely, nightshade!  If it’s not too much trouble, of course.”

It did sound like trouble. Entirely too much trouble. But I couldn’t bring myself to say no to her. She was the first person who had shown me kindness, purely out of the goodness of her heart, in such a long time. Sure, Tom Nook had been kind, especially with the tent and the Nookphone, but it had come out of a package deal that had been bought and paid for. Muffy had done it simply because she wanted to help.

I made myself smile. “Yeah, I can go up and get some for you.”

“Thank you!” Muffy beamed. “I’ll be in my tent the rest of the day so you can drop by any time. And oh, nightshade? You should pick up a few extra while you’re down there. You can bring any items you find to Tom Nook and sell them for Bells. It’s the easiest way to make money.”

Muffy’s advice sound vaguely familiar. It rang a bell, as it were. I snickered to myself, and then cringed at the fact that I’d even entertained such a terrible pun. “Yeah, I think Tom Nook may have mentioned it before,” I said casually, trying to shake off the internal embarrassment.

Muffy nodded. “Well, I better get off home. Thanks again, you’re a solid cat! I’ll be waiting, nightshade!”

She waved me goodbye with one of her chubby paws and toddled away, leaving me sitting alone outside Nook’s Cranny. A wind picked up, lifting the hair from my forehead and leaving the leaves giggling in the trees. Everything else remained still and quiet.

I pulled the Nookphone out and booted up the Island Map. For the first time since arriving on Castlebay, I finally had a chance to look properly at the island’s layout. The whole island was cut into four “parts”, I suppose was the best way to describe it, separated by criss-crosses of river. And as Muffy had rightly said, although the island was fairly covered by trees, they seemed densest at the northern part of the island. But what was the easiest way to get up there?

I set to plotting a route. For all the different sections of the river, only two were passable by bridge. The eastern part of the island – where my tent was – was linked to the central area with Nook’s Cranny, Residential Services and Muffy’s tent. The northern most section – containing Bill and Morgan’s tents – was also connected to my section with a bridge.  I allowed a sigh of relief. It looked like I wouldn’t have to swim up the river or anything ridiculous like that.

It would be a long walk, though. One that would be better started sooner rather than later. I decided that I would call in at my tend and pick up my rucksack, as I didn’t fancy carrying piles and piles of delicate cherries by hand. I tucked the Nookphone back into my pocket, along with the remaining medicine, and set off.

.-.-.

It was lovely to explore the island a bit more. There was sort of a sacredness to the place, this rolling stretch of (mostly) untouched land under a strip of blue sky. The air smelled clean, heady with the scent of woods after rain. Trees lifted their branches up, like churchgoers at worship, gently shaken, but unyielding in the breeze. There was no path once I crossed the bridge into the top section of the island, so I had to wind my way though skinny tree trunks and uneven ground. Sometimes the trees grew so thickly clumped together that I had trouble squeezing past, and other times the terrain opened out into such sparse clearings that I felt exposed and vulnerable, like I was the only other person in the world.

There was a tent pitched about five minutes away from the bridge – a joyful orange in colour with a makeshift post-box stuck haphazardly into the ground. “Bill” was splodged on in blue paint. I took a few minutes to look around the campsite. Aside from a few loose boxes and what looked like the bones of a campfire, there was no sign of life – or Bill himself – anywhere. Muffy had said he liked running. Perhaps he was still off galivanting somewhere.

The cherry trees Muffy promised lay in a small grove twenty minutes away from Bill’s tent. Ahead of the grove, the grass unfurled into a small beach, hidden almost completely from sight by an outcrop of steel-grey rocks. The beach couldn’t have been any more than a few metres in width and length, with a single solitary beach chair set up near the water’s edge. It looked very peaceful. I had to remind myself I wasn’t here to sunbathe. I was here for cherries.

The cherry trees themselves had thin trunks and spindly branches – easy to distinguish from the thick firs and oaks – and the cherries dangled precariously, looking as if they’d drop at any moment under their own weight. The lowest branches hung just above my eye level, so it was easy enough to reach up and pluck the cherries from their stalks. Admittedly, someone Muffy’s height would probably have struggled. A twist of hunger gurgled in my stomach as I breathed in their soft scent. When was the last time I had eaten? I’d had breakfast before getting on the plane at Doveport Airport but between sleeping all day and the sting from the scorpion, I’d not had time to eat anything since. Remembering this, it was like a cavern of emptiness opened in my stomach. The flesh of the cherries was plump, a rich wine-red in colour and I couldn’t resist biting into one. Then another. And then another and another until red stood out around my mouth, my tongue tingled with the mix of sweet and sour, and my belly felt pleasantly full.

Strength returned, I shrugged off my bag, hoping the cherries wouldn’t get damaged when I packed them inside. Hopping from tree to tree, I shook branches and watched the red fruits topple into the grass, gleaming like precious jewels, and then scooped them into my bag. Once I was satisfied, I hoisted the bag back onto my shoulders and walked a few experimental paces. It was certainly heavy, but not enough that it would hinder me on the long walk back. Well, so long as I kept it slow.

With all the tree hopping I’d done I’d wandered away from my original stopping point. I unhooked the Nookphone to get my bearings again. Surprisingly, I found I’d gone far enough that I was closer to Morgan’s tent than anything else. If I squinted and looked across the dipping hills, I could see what looked like the top of a tent among the fronds of leaves.

I could bring Morgan some cherries, I reasoned. He’d come to this place with nothing and nobody, just the same as me. And if we were going to be neighbours, it would make sense to have each other’s backs.

The ground on the way up to Morgan’s tent was messy, littered with branches and weeds, leaving me picking my way across. Several heavy stones stood out like scars, great chunks of them cut away, exposing the ancient layers underneath. I could see Morgan’s tent clearly now, growing out of the hills, a distinctive red that seemed unnatural, bloodlike, against the green of nature.

I was so busy staring at Morgan’s tent that I didn’t notice the hole. My foot slipped on the uneven ground, plunging into a neat little gap. I stumbled and grabbed the nearest tree to steady myself, cursing. The whole tree shook under the impact. Then something dropped heavily to the ground, accompanied by a fury of buzzing.

When I turned my head to look, I came face-to-face with a loose beehive and many small angry bees.

I didn’t wait. Fear gripped my heart; I threw myself to my feet and I ran. Within seconds, the bees followed in one dark cloud, the tempest of buzzing filling my ears. I’d never seen bees behave like this before. Pushing myself through tight clusters of trees, I darted and wove, trying to throw them off, confuse them, but nothing worked. I needed to find cover, quickly.

Morgan’s tent! I’d forgotten about it in the flurry of panic. It wasn’t much, but it was somewhere safe. I pushed harder. The tent flap opened, and Morgan stepped out, his hair tousled, grimacing in the light of the sun.  

“Morgan!” I cried. Let me in!”

He turned towards me, his mouth hanging open. I heard some sort of garbled shout, words crashing into each other, and then I was grabbing him by the arm and pulling him inside the tent with me. We crashed through the open flap and onto the ground, but I immediately pivoted on my knees and scrambled for the tent zipper, the droning noise of the bees still ringing in my ears. With trembling hands, I sealed us inside and sat back, my breath coming in ragged gasps.

Morgan tugged on the back of my bag. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

The presence on the bag was a sharp, and unwelcome, reminder. “My cherries!” I gasped, a brief vision of the fruit turning to nothing but juice pushing its way to the front of my mind.

“Your… cherries?”

“Yes, my cherries!” I opened the bag impatiently. Inside, the cherries stared back, some of them a bit bashed, but mostly intact.

“Why do you have so many—”

“One of the villagers asked me to bring her some cherries in exchange for some medicine she bought me because I got stung by a scorpion on the beach in the middle of the night!”

Morgan blinked. “Are you aware just how ridiculous you sound?”

I sighed and unfolded my legs. “Of course I do. And to top it all off, I disturbed a massive beehive…”

“Did you get stung?”

“I don’t think so. I didn’t feel anything.” I checked my arms and legs all the same, but only the sting from the scorpion stood out. “Um… listen, I’m really sorry for barging in.”

Morgan went quiet. He looked around the tent a few times, his sharp eyes darting back and forth. The bees buzzed angrily outside, their tiny shadows flickering on the tent canvas like specks of paint. “It’s fine,” he said eventually. “You can wait until they’ve gone.”

“Thanks,”

Morgan’s tent was pretty much the same as mine – a camp bed, in camouflage green instead of my canary yellow, a radio and a lamp. But most of his floor space was taken up by his camera equipment and, strangely enough, a rack of tools, including a net and a fishing pole.

He caught me staring. “I like to be prepared.” He said, his chest puffed up. “Lots of good photo opportunities if I can catch my own fish and bugs.”

I nodded, struggling for something to say. Inside his tent felt strangely claustrophobic, with so much heavy equipment and so little floor space to share. He was uncomfortably close, and I could feel the heat from his breath. I looked down and ran my fingers over the ground, feeling the blades of grass underneath. The bees still flitted outside.

“Have you met the neighbours?” I eventually asked.

“Just one.”

“Which one?”

“Bill. He came by the tent at six in the morning to say hello.”

“Ouch,” I winced. “I’ve not met him yet. I think he must have been out when I passed by earlier.” Everything I said sounded limp. The sooner the bees went away, the better. Still searching for something to say to fill the silence, I thought of the villager in tent three, the one removed from the map. “Have you met the other neighbour?”

“Muffy? No. She’s not been by yet.”

“No, I mean the other one.”

“What other one?”

“The one in tent three. Have you not heard of him yet? Muffy said his name was Ross, but his location won’t come up on the map, so I don’t know where he lives or if he actually wants to meet anyone…”

Morgan returned a blank look. “I thought we were the only two humans here,” he said with the smallest twitch of his shoulders. Then, with a pointed stare, “Oh well. It’s not like I’m here to make friends anyway.”

I lowered my head, trying to conceal the redness of my cheeks. Neither of us spoke, the silence between us expanding further. Then I realised I couldn’t hear the bees anymore.

“I think it’s safe now.” I said, pushing myself to my feet. “I’ll… get out of your hair.”

To my surprise, he followed me back outside. I looked around, suddenly realising how completely unfamiliar I was with this area. Nothing but trees and the occasional rock. I couldn’t even pinpoint which way I’d come in the first place. I consulted the map on the Nookphone.

Morgan came to stand over my shoulder. I tried very hard not to mind. “If you’re looking to get back to Muffy’s, you could probably get there quicker by going straight over the river.”

I stared at the map. Morgan indicated the river that curved from just beyond his house inward to the centre of the island. A frown tugged at the corners of my mouth. Sure, it looked quicker as the crow flew, but it wasn’t like I could grow a pair of wings and ride a good gust of wind across. I was stuck with stubby legs and no bridges this side of the island.

“There’s no bridges.” I said lamely.

“You don’t need bridges. You can vault over it.”

A vivid image of myself trying to vault the river and ending up soaked head-to-toe played inside my head like a rerunning silent movie. “Morgan, I’m not exactly a gymnast. And the river looks wide. And deep…”

Morgan made a low noise. “Wait there,” he said, disappearing around the side of his tent. A few moments later he returned with a long pole, easily as thick as the widest part of his arm. “You can use this. It’s a pole vault. Nook sold it to me after I went to his crafting course yesterday.”

The pole was at least a head taller than me, and surprisingly supple, but I didn’t trust it as far as I could throw it. Which likely wouldn’t be far. “How does it work…?”

“It’s simple,” he said, although I doubted it. “I’ll show you.”

Using the pole to anchor himself, he cleared the river in one jump after a short run-up. As he landed safely on his feet, I couldn’t hide the fact I was impressed. He vaulted back, a slight smirk curling on the length of his lips.

“Here,” he pushed the pole into my hands. It was heavy, and I struggled to get the balance of it. “If you hop over this river and keep going straight, you’ll end up hitting Residential Services eventually. It’ll be a lot quicker than going all the way back around. Of course, if you can’t manage the vault, you don’t have to. You can do the walk.”

I didn’t dare want to admit that I’d rather walk. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. I’d never been massively physically fit and the idea of throwing myself over a section of deep water with only a wooden pole keeping me from falling in didn’t sit right with me. I forced a smile in its stead.

“Thank you. I can… bring it back later tonight, if you like?”

“Nah. Keep it. I can make another. You look like you need it more.”

I sucked in a breath, undecided if he was insulting me outright or inadvertently. Either way, I felt the smile on my face drop off. “Thanks,” I said stiffly.

“I didn’t mean to insult you.” He didn’t apologise, nor did he even sound sorry. “I just couldn’t help but notice that you didn’t exactly come here… prepared.”

I bit my lip and hoped he would let the subject go. It was hard to come prepared to a place like this from the situation I’d come from.

“You should get down to one of Nook’s classes.” Morgan continued. “He’s got all sorts going on, he’ll teach you everything you need. And if you don’t already have a net or a fishing rod, I’d suggest getting a hold of them. You really won’t last long without either of them.”

“Thanks for the warning.” I said coolly. “And the pole.” Out of a sense of obligation, I shrugged off my bag and opened it. “Would you like some cherries? I picked too many.”

“You’re fine, thanks. I don’t like them.”

“Alright then. I’ll see you around.”

“See you.”

Leaving Morgan, I walked further down the river. He had turned around and was facing his tent now, but I kept walking. There was absolutely no way I was going to let him see my attempts at vaulting across the river. Especially if I didn’t make it.

Finally, I found a part of the river that looked narrower. I dunked the pole into the water, pushing it down until it hit something solid. I wiggled it to test. Well, it would be as safe as anything else I’d done on this island so far.

I threw my head over both shoulders – just to make absolute sure that nobody was watching me – but something caught my eye in the distance. There was a tent sitting on the summit of a broad, steep hill. Nestled between thick clumps of trees, the tent was almost impossible to notice unless you looked up at the exact right angle. The flat top of the hill was rocky, falling away sharply on one side to cliffs hanging over the beach, and the hill upwards was covered in thick coarse grass and what looked like spiky brambles. It looked like whoever lived up there wanted to make it as difficult as possible for anyone else to reach them.

I pushed the thought away and got ready to make the leap. Trying to remember how Morgan had done it, it took me three “practice” run-ups to even gather up enough courage. On the fourth attempt, I plunged the pole into the middle of the river, pushed myself forward and sailed right over the water.

Landing on the other side, I fought the urge to jump around and cheer, thrilled with my own accomplishment. Even my bag of cherries had made it safely across. But as I turned around and looked back at the tent at the top of the hill, I saw a figure standing between the cluster of trees. The figure waited, unmoving, for what felt like hours. I thought maybe of waving, shouting a greeting, but the words died in my throat.

Eventually, the figure turned away and returned to the tent, leaving me with my heart beating erratically against my ribcage. This was becoming too much. The figure outside my tent, the one in the trees, now the one outside the third mystery tent. This settled it. I had to put all this straight. I couldn’t start a new life with these worries hanging over me like the clouds from an oncoming storm.

I needed to finally meet Ross. Tonight.

[ipsonus]

• • r e d i r e c t i n g  • •​ •

Maxima jolted at the sound of the gap-youkai’s voice. So it seemed like they all knew. It was unfortunate that the android couldn’t protect its child any more than it had. And to think that it was actually Ollie that kept it sane -- who else would be there to prevent the virus. It was also unfortunate that the elder couldn’t have taken Ollie’s place. ( he would have been g o o d , why couldn’t you have taken me instead ? )

The factory made the android tremble. And it couldn’t move next to somebody for safety. Not even the presence of Leaf helped -- in fact, the caretaker couldn’t help but to move away from her. 

Alone-- for once Maxima felt truly alone. And abandoned. It wasn’t Ollie’s fault either. No, it would never blame Ollie for this. And to think it escaped the future to seek sanctuary in the past. 

‘ Liar...’

It couldn’t look at what was happening. It couldn’t. A part of it was being manipulated and used for her entertainment. And as the demonstration continued, there was that moment where it did look up. 

( ‘ maxima ... im sorry ’ ) 

Tears had actually started to trickle down its owns cheeks. A robot who had been programmed so well to have no emotion began to show signs of its wear. This was what it had been trying so hard to avoid. The snakes that been curled around its arms and wrists almost immediately retreated back in its clothing. ( now the virus  h a d  to give maxima  s o m e  time to cope , right ? it was fair ) 

‘ i told him to go to you . . i know you said something ’

When the factory disappeared, and they were place back to the ‘normalcy’ that Yukari had allowed, Maxima could do nothing but look down. Its hood covered its face as it continued to stare down. There was another jolt as the snakes bit the robots neck. 

La  l l o r o n a  que pasó           │   The crying woman, what's going on? 

Se te ＦＵＥＲＯＮ tus hijos   │   Your children left you. 

Como [  V A  ] la excavación     │    How is the excavation? 

Para ti no hay salvación           │    For you, there is no salvation.

The dulled hues in the robot’s eyes had now come back to life. The white sclera had turned black just for a spilt second before going back to ‘normal’. However, the iris’ remained the same, bloodlike colour.

“Well...” The tone in Maxima’s voice didn’t sound as robotic anymore. Then again, it wasn’t Maxima anymore now was it.

Hands lifted as if the android was examining the. The tattoos that had been 2 dimensional before were very much real as they slipped back out of the sleeves. Like pets to the robot, they stayed curled up on its wrists and swayed back and forth as if they were examining the area.

“What a shame I can’t do much to toy with anybody here~♪”

He could tell there was a limit. Now that was truly bad luck now. Its limitations could still reap benefits. 

A frown drew on the contaminated robot’s face as he turned to the trainer-- well it seemed like somebody knew better than underestimate him.

“Guess its my turn~♥ You should have listened to the kid, I won’t make it better for you ahahaha!!” 

Laughter echoed the streets as it walked away from the scene. Maxima was gone.

WARNING: Files corrupted . . Proceed? ► yes ◄       no

             Checking status . . .  Please wait . . 

ERROR FOUND: missing data . . Proceed? ► yes ◄       no

TWO FILES FOUND: select one . . ► Prototype 00: unstable ◄       Prototype 04: Offline

NOTE: Prototype 00 has a virus activated, please download and install program SHU CATO for further repairs (highly recommended ) 

OTHER OPTIONS: deactivate the robot ( better kill it ) run like hell ( dont look back ) I honestly don’t know, ( if you actually        are reading these other options it        means that I-- Shu Cato-- am not        around to help and you are royally        fucked haha goodluck. Oh don’t try        to reason with him. lol your funeral        friend Peace out ♥ ) No but really get the fuck away from him. 

[calmsmedown]

jekyll and hyde musical stim board

for @small-edgy-potato - credits below - all gifs made by me

w/o paint mixing

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[calmsmedown]

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[calmsmedown]

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[sc3m0-st1mz]

H1!!! 1'M R1L3Y!!!!

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i’m the worldz sexiest pogchamp, and this is the pinned post!!! 

first, big disclaimer: this is a stim blog and will have a lot of gifz. they will be tagged (#cw gif), but still, proceed with caution if that’z gonna mess with u!

ok! now for navigation & stuff!!!

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