#but still whumpy
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whumpty-dumpty-doo · 1 month ago
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Me, writing a one-shot entry for "We Are TroubleD": :)
Me, reading through what I have so far of the first draft: Hm, this sure is a long one...
Me, realizing that I'm already at 7,313 words and I'm not even done writing the thing yet:
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befuddled-calico-whump · 2 months ago
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“I warned you what i’d do if you tried anything, remember? Say it.”
“You.. You said you’d break my arm.” 
from Ribbons by @sunshiline-writes !
definitely go check out this piece, it's especially brutal to Hunter, and i love that for him 🥰🥰
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wellthisissomething · 2 months ago
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A.C.E (에이스) - 선인장 (CACTUS)
Whumpy Moments in Music Videos 1/?
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whumpninja · 3 months ago
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whumper who’s actually whumpee’s boss (it’s me I’m whumpee)
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smolghostbot · 14 days ago
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Patchwork Melody - Fall
Chapter 3 of 4! Things are finally taking a turn towards the blushy! As always, dashes usually denote a POV change, though their perspectives are slowly becoming more aligned...
Start here if you haven't read Spring and Summer first.
Word Count: don't... don't worry about it... (8k) (I'm sorry)
CWs: Part 4 has alcohol/drunkenness played for drama, though nothing bad happens. Part 5 has some minor transphobia.
Tag List: @gt-daboss, @reborrowing, @spikyspinachstreet (Hope that's not a presumptuous @)
=====
Part 1
About two months had passed since Patch had officially “moved in” with Melody. The little sprite had taken residence behind an unused electrical outlet on the kitchen counter, converting the space behind it into a small dwelling. Various ropes and ladders had sprang up around the apartment, giving Patch access to various places like the kitchen counter, the tables, and the bathroom sink.
Although the two had become closer, Melody soon came to realize that there was also a more destructive side to her new roommate, as he seemed to have very different ideas about the meaning of “personal property”. Melody would often come home from work to find missing buttons in her clothes, and missing office supplies from her desk, which Patch had put to use in constructing his little mechanisms. For the most part, Melody tried to let it go, as their little roommate at least had to courtesy to not take anything Mel actively used, but they couldn’t help but slightly resent his kleptomania. On several occasions, they had asked Patch if they could just buy him supplies, but he seemed almost offended at the suggestion.
Despite her desire to avoid conflict with Patch, Melody finally hit her breaking point after a long day of work, when she came home to discover one of her beloved plants was missing most of its leaves.
“Patch!” She found herself raising her voice as Patch looked at her, fear in his eyes. “You… did you seriously tear Benjamin’s leaves off?! What could have possibly made you think it was okay to tear apart my plants?! Ugh, you’re impossible sometimes!”
-
Patch cowered as Melody began to yell. Truly, the sprite had gotten hungry due to Melody not being around, and the “Benjamin” on the table was far easier to reach than trying to open the cupboard where Melody kept her food. However… it didn’t take a genius to realize that Patch had clearly made a mistake here. He knew Melody would never hurt him, they had sworn, right? Yet as their voice raised and they stared daggers at him, he couldn’t help but tear up, an involuntary panic reaction.
“And now you’re crying…” Melody put her hand against her temple before continuing, “Gods, Patch, just because I let you stay here didn’t mean I said, ‘Hey little buddy, feel free to ruin my things and kill my plants! And then make me feel like the bad guy for being upset about it!’”
Patch didn’t know what to do… apologize? How? He couldn’t exactly put the plant back right now… but Mel was clearly furious. As she continued to berate them, and Patch continued to panic, the sprite did the only thing they could think to do: they ran, leaping off of the table and hiding under the couch.
-
“Hey, hey! I wasn’t done! We’re not done here!”
Melody shouted in frustration, but knew better than to chase Patch down. Instead, she put on her shoes and shouted to Patch again, “I’m going for a walk, and when I come back, we’re continuing this! And if any of my plants are so much as touched again then… Augh!”
Once she was outside in the cool fall air, Melody began to decompress a little bit, but was still furious. Her plants were the closest thing she had to a family anymore, and she had raised all of them from sprouts. To see one torn apart by Patch, for seemingly no reason, had made her freak out, possibly too much, by her own admission. As the chilly air bit at their nose and ears, they tried to think rationally about the situation. Although Patch could understand her, he was decidedly not human, which was easy to forget aside from his tiny size. He was… a something, they had been using the word fae, but he was something non-human, something that probably sees the world through completely different eyes. Sighing, Melody decided to try to talk to him again to get to the bottom of this.
-
Patch sat anxiously on the table next to the “Benjamin”, wondering how to apologize. Clearly, this plant was important to Melody, but they couldn’t understand why. She had so many plants around, and what else would they be for? Although, they supposed they had never seen Melody actually eat any of them, except for one plant that she kept in the kitchen area. Did this one have sentimental value? Patch struggled to think of why somebody would keep food around for sentimental value, but maybe humans are just different like that. Patch’s thoughts were interrupted as the front door opened, and Melody walked back inside, heading over to the table after seeing Patch was there. After a moment, she spoke, her voice almost a whisper.
“Okay, I’m sorry for yelling, I’m not going to yell anymore. Can we please talk about this?”
Patch nodded, and the human sat down on the couch and began to speak. “Listen, the reason… the reason I was so upset is that all of these plants,” she motioned to the variety of plants around the apartment, “These plants… before you came around, they were like… my family. And then you hurt one of them.”
Family… Patch thought. Oh. Oh no. He didn’t know that humans and plants could be friends… how did that even work? Could humans speak to plants? Immediately, he began to tear up, wondering what Melody must have heard from the “Benjamin” he had hurt.
“I just… why would you tear apart my plants like that? What possibly possessed you to do that?”
Patch bashfully put a hand to his stomach, hoping the gesture would be understood. It clearly was, as Melody’s red eyes lit up with recognition.
“You took the leaves because you were hungry, weren’t you? I know I was gone until late… you probably didn’t have anything around to eat, huh?”
Patch sheepishly nodded as Melody sighed. “That’s… my fault. I should probably leave the cupboard open for you, it’s not right that you have to wait around for me. But listen, clearly there’s some… conflict here. This is your house just as much as it is mine, but that doesn’t mean you can just… tear up my stuff, okay? It makes me feel like you’re taking advantage of me. Just… can you ask first before taking stuff from now on?”
Patch nodded again, starting to understand where Melody’s anger came from. He put a hand over his heart, hoping that the gesture would convey a promise to no longer borrow from her. Tomorrow, he would have to look for entrances to the other apartments nearby… and work to fix what he had done to the “Benjamin”.
Part 2
Things had calmed down over the next few days, with Patch adjusting to borrowing from Mel’s neighbors instead of her. However, there was one reminder of their conflict, that being the struggling plant on the coffee table, which Melody had apparently named “Benjamin”. While Patch had tried to trust Melody with most of their secrets, there was one little “party trick” that could help, one that humans were absolutely not allowed to know about…
Patch clambered up the plant’s pot and walked over to the stem of the plant, sitting down near it, as they had done for the past few days. They closed their eyes and began to focus on the apartment as a whole, the memories contained in it, the feeling of security brought on by the shelter and the inhabitants within. Patch absorbed the feelings of safety and comfort, and prepared to channel that energy as they felt it flow to their hands. As they grabbed onto the stem of the plant, they felt heat radiating to their palm as the energy began to transfer into the plant. This would hopefully be enough life force to keep it from dying, at least.
As they began the energy transfer, their throat began to try to vibrate, an involuntary action which caused Patch to flinch in pain as a droning, scratching sound echoed out from their damaged vocal chords. Normally, this would produce a healing song, but ever since their injury, they were unable to use their power without hurting themself. However, they had to make things right and try. After a few moments, they let go of the plant, not wanting to hurt themself further. The plant still seemed to struggle, but it was the most energy Patch could afford… although they may have given a bit too much today.
Exhausted, Patch made their way back down the plant and onto the coffee table, where they decided a quick nap to recharge sounded… perfect.
-
When Melody came home, there were two things she noticed. The first was Patch, asleep on the coffee table. She really needed to figure out a way for him to get onto the couch if he was just going to nap on the table like he had been for the last few days.
The second thing she noticed only after getting close to the table, as she saw that Ben had already started to sprout a new leaf from one of the torn-off spots. Was… he growing so soon after losing his last leaves? She was absolutely not going to object to the plant recovering from Patch’s little attack, at the least.
Patch began to stir as Melody walked in, and she quickly greeted her little roommate. “Hey Patch! Guess you decided to… whoa, are you okay, dude? You look super pale right now.”
Patch seemed confused and slow to respond, as if he was lost in thought. After a long moment of staring at each other, Mel took this as a sign as they continued speaking, “Okay, permission to check your temperature?”
When Patch still didn’t respond, Mel held out one finger and slowly approached him. She put the finger to her forehead, as if to demonstrate, before slowly moving it towards her tiny roommate, who seemed uncharacteristically calm. Usually, Patch would involuntarily recoil from their hands. The fact that he didn’t made Mel even more concerned. They gently pressed the back of their finger to the sleepy fae’s head, before quickly pulling it away and beginning to speak in a panic.
“Oh shit, dude, you’re freezing! What happened? Uh, oh no, I have no idea what to do… is this like a flu? Shit, I don’t know what to do… can you give me any advice here? How do I help?”
Patch, shocked awake by Melody’s finger, weakly held up his hands in a gesture to get Mel to calm down, before miming writing something down.
“Right, right, notepad. Got it,” the human replied as they gathered the notepad and gently brought over Patch’s tiny backpack. Patch slowly dug through it for his pencil lead and began to draw after thinking for a moment.
-
How to explain… there isn’t much a human could help with… thought the sprite. Truthfully, energy drain could only be cured by somebody else giving up some of their energy, which as far as he was aware… humans couldn’t do. They would also heal over time just by resting in an inhabited home for a while, but Patch had to draw something. Thinking on what they had seen from TV as a reference, they decided that they could at least address the searing pain in their throat from the attempted healing.
After finishing the drawing, Melody practically ran over to inspect the drawing, and looked over it with an urgency the sprite had rarely seen before from the human.
“Okay… warm soup, lots of rest, fluids… this is just like a flu! Okay, don’t you worry Patch, I’ll get you back to health, you can trust me. I’m gonna run to the store to buy some soup ingredients, can I move you to the couch?”
Patch nodded, and Melody carefully lifted him and placed him on the couch before she started getting ready to head out in a clear panic. Before leaving, she turned to Patch and spoke again with an urgent tone, “I’ll help you, Patch, mark my words.”
After a short trip, Melody returned and immediately went to prepare a soup. She was hardly what anybody would call a chef, but throwing a bunch of vegetables and stock into a pot was doable, especially if it would help Patch. Truly, they were just nervous because of the mystery of it all. How long had he been sick? Sure, he had been sleepy lately, but Mel had thought nothing of it. Was he okay? Was this because of the plant? As far as she was aware, Benjamin wasn’t poisonous to anything, but she didn’t know what Patch was. Would he… no, she couldn’t think about that. All she could do was give her friend the help he asked for.
As she handed Patch a measuring cup full of soup, making sure to include a piece of broccoli and squash alongside the broth, she was already thinking of next steps. “Okay, so have some soup and rest for a while. I’ll call and see if Grant can cover my shift tomorrow so I can stay home and take care of you, okay?”
Patch shook his head no, but Melody wasn’t hearing any of it. “Nope, it’s happening, little buddy, I’m not leaving your side until you’re better.”
Patch could only sigh, accepting the human’s offer, not that they had a choice. Mel stood up, bringing Patch more soup, some water, and some tissues, though they didn’t know if he would need them.
“I don’t think I would be able to catch anything that you might have, but I’ll be careful. Do you need anything else?” she asked. When Patch once again shook his head, and curled up to fall asleep, Melody was quick to cover his little body with one of the tissues.
“Okay… I’ll let you sleep, but let me know if you need anything.”
And with that, Patch fell into a deep sleep.
The next few days were interesting for Patch, to say the least. As they drifted in and out of consciousness, their body trying to absorb as much energy from the environment as possible, their dreams were vivid and wild.
They were back there, still living in that cage. They were in the present, living in their little shelter in the wall. They were in the past, living in their hometown.
Their dreams were filled with faces they had once seen, faces they’d rather forget, faces they wish they could remember. But one face kept reappearing despite it all, the face of the human who had made it her duty to care for the sick sprite.
Right now, they were outside, like when they had first had their meetings. She was looking off in the distance, humming to herself, a sprite song used to reach out to others. Even though she wasn’t looking at them, Patch could tell she was acutely aware of where they were, and was waiting for them to join. Almost instinctively, the sprite tried to harmonize with her humming, but the pain surged through their body.
Melody turned to look at him, confusion on their face. “Patch, you okay?”
They were on the couch, covered by a tissue. Right. A dream. They looked at Mel, who repeated their question.
“You were… I dunno, it almost sounded like a creaking noise? I actually think it’s the first time you’ve ever made any sound. Are you okay?”
Patch just nodded. Melody said something, but they couldn’t make out the words.
They were in the alleyway they had lived in after escaping. But they weren’t alone. There was another sprite there, one with Mel’s face. Patch felt drawn to her, to wrap her in the biggest hug he could manage. Why? He didn’t know. The other sprite reciprocated the hug, filling them both with a radiant warmth. Warmth…
They awoke to a meal, soup broth poured into a bottle cap. Right. Dreaming again.
They dutifully sipped the broth, before sitting up and stretching.
“Good morning! Well, it’s actually like 5pm, but you know, good morning anyways!” Melody said, watching Patch with a cheerful yet worried expression.
“How are you feeling, buddy?”
Patch nodded, they were indeed feeling a little better, but the thought of standing up made them feel exhausted still.
“Good! You look a little better too, I think.”
As Melody smiled down at Patch, the sprite felt a warm feeling inside, one that was more than just the soup they had consumed.
Part 3
Once Patch’s energy had recovered to a point where they could at least wander the apartment, they began to focus on something new to get their mind off of their weakened state. One thing that had been bothering them since they moved in with Melody was their outfit. The tattered tunic was sufficient for preserving their dignity, but it reminded them too much of… the past. They used some paper scraps from their notebook to sketch some ideas for a few new clothes to wear. Luckily, they had learned to sew clothes at least enough to get a simple outfit together.
-
“Do I… even want to know where you got that stuff?” Melody asked, looking over Patch’s new outfit as he stood outside of his little room on the countertop.
The outfit was a simple orange tunic, much more form-fitting than his old one, with a small belt around the midsection held together by a small black button. The gray pants were somewhere between tights and actual pants, as they covered Patch’s legs as well as his feet. Of course, the green scarf remained, loosely wrapped around the little one’s neck just enough to cover his scars. The outfit wasn’t very fancy, but was unmistakably an upgrade over his old outfit.
Patch simply waved his hand dismissively at the question. As promised, he had stopped borrowing from Melody, aside from a few trips through her trash that he decided to keep a secret from her. Specifically, this fabric had come from Melody’s upstairs neighbor, apparently an avid fan of sewing, who surely wouldn’t miss a single fabric swatch… or the few others the sprite had borrowed for previous attempts at making a new outfit.
“Well, okay… Either way, it looks nice! And you look much more confident wearing it!” Exclaimed the human. Patch briefly posed like he was modeling, which he had learned from watching one too many TV shows, causing Melody to laugh at just how cute her little roommate was. “Yeah, work it, Patch!”
After the moment passed, Mel spoke again, “Actually… that does remind me, I wanted to ask you something.”
Patch looked inquisitively at Mel, tilting his head curiously.
“Yeah, so turns out Tara said we’re allowed to dress up for Halloween this year,” Mel began. Patch had no idea what a “Halloween” was, but he had put together previously that Tara was another human at Melody’s job. He nodded his head as she continued speaking.
“And, well, basically I found this really cute costume that I thought I could wear, but I wanted to get your opinion on it,” she finished, and Patch nodded with recognition. “Okay, stay right there, I’ll be right back.”
Melody walked into her room, and after a few minutes, came back out, fiddling with something around her ears that Patch couldn’t quite make out. Her outfit was a green dress that looked as if it was made of giant leaves, with some clearly fake butterfly wings on the back of the dress. On her forearms and ankles were some green bands, and the ensemble was completed with a flower crown on her head.
“Wow, these do not do a good job of staying on… but what do you think of the rest of it? I figured it would be cute to dress up as somebody small like you, you know?”
As the realization set in for Patch, he couldn’t help but silently start to silently laugh. An outfit made of leaves? How ridiculous! It would decay in weeks, would probably be incredibly scratchy once the leaves started to dry, and it would hardly keep somebody warm.
“Hey… don’t laugh! Geez, I didn’t think you’d be a tough crowd. Let me guess, you think it looks silly.”
Patch calmed down, and waved his hands apologetically before shaking his head no and giving the outfit a thumbs up, a gesture he learned from Melody.
“Okay, so it’s maybe not the most accurate… although I think it’s still cute!” She said, posing, which got a nod of agreement from Patch.
“I just… have to get the ears to fit… One second…” She mumbled, before turning around and walking towards the bathroom, causing confusion from Patch. Ears?
The question was answered a moment later, as an “Ah ha!” came from the bathroom, and Melody emerged with two clearly fake pointed ears worn on top of her normal ears. Patch couldn’t help but stare. One thing about humans was their off-putting rounded ears, looking more like a rat’s than a sprite’s, but with these fake ears… Patch looked at Melody in a new, slightly awkward light. Did… did her eyes always glimmer like that? Was her face always so… nice? They found themself blushing a bit as they stared at their human roommate, only to be interrupted by her speaking again.
“... Hello? Are you even listening? Ground control to Major Patch? Why are you staring like that? Do they… do they look bad? Shit, is this like appropriation or something?” she mused, quickly turning anxious.
Melody was relieved as Patch shook his head “no”, waving his hands to make the point explicit. As soon as she saw Patch turn red like that, she was worried she had offended him somehow.
“Well, okay, if it’s not like… offensive or anything, I can keep them. We can be pointed ear buddies!” They said, as Patch nodded his head, face still a bit red.
“Well, not right now. The party’s not until this Friday, after all.” Melody said, before turning and walking back into her bedroom to take off the outfit, leaving Patch alone with their thoughts.
-
Stupid, Patch thought to themself as soon as they were alone. She’s a human! You can’t make things weird just because she’s nice to you and wore some… some costume!
They tried to take a few deep breaths to think things through.
Don’t worry… she’ll take them off and you’ll probably go back to feeling how you did before. Yep. Just like before, where she was just… a friend. I just… she’s nice. She’s nice to me. That’s all. You’re not used to somebody being nice to you. She’s just a friend.
Patch walked back into their little room and looked around to try and ground themself, until their eyes settled on a drawing they had done a few weeks back, of Melody. For reasons they couldn’t explain before right now, just the picture alone was a source of comfort for them. Patch put their head in their hands as they silently continued thinking to themself.
Okay… maybe… she makes me happy. Like… more than a friend. Maybe… I have… some feelings for her. Not that anything will happen, though. I mean, she’s… she’s a human!
Patch flopped down onto their bed, as they heard Melody walk back into the main room of the apartment. They needed time alone to think.
Part 4
“Okay, it’s almost time for me to go,” Melody said, as Patch nodded his head. “I’ll leave some leftover salad out for you, remember that I said I’ll be a little bit late tonight, we’re going out for a Halloween dinner after work. It’s a team-building thing Tara wants to do.”
Their little roommate continued to nod his head. Mel noticed that he was staring at her, as he did the other day when she first put on the costume, but she couldn’t figure out why. He said it wasn’t offensive, but then why would he be so flustered whenever she wore it?
“Okay… I’ll see you later then, Patch. Bye!”
And with that, Patch decided to make their way to the TV remote, to hopefully distract themself from thinking about their feelings for Melody, about how she dropped everything to care for them when he was sick, how she was so considerate of his needs despite being, well, a human.
-
Hours later, far later than Melody was usually out and about, Patch heard the door start to open. As the door opened, they instantly hid behind one of the flowerpots on the table when they realized the person walking in was not Melody. An intruder? No, there she was… being helped inside by this other human… What happened? His question was soon answered as the strange human spoke.
“God, Melody, you are impossible. We said ‘let’s get a drink as a team’, not ‘let’s get blitzed at the Applebee’s and start doing improv karaoke’”, the clearly-frustrated human said.
“H-hey, hey, shut up, Clay, they were just… just jealous of my singing. They couldn’t handle me at my best…”, Melody said, although there was something off about her voice… something familiar and off.
“Melody, I swear I don’t think you have a best. Now, go sit on the couch or something so I can go home, I only brought you back here as a favor for Tara, I’m not about to play babysitter for your drunk ass.”
“Ugh… fiiiine, you’re no fun. Thank you so much for, y’know, for bringing me home at least. I love youuuu”, Melody slurred, as they were ‘gently’ pushed onto the couch by the other human, apparently named Clay.
“Don’t mention it. Literally. Ever.”
And with that, the other human shut the door, leaving Melody on the couch. Patch cautiously peeked out from behind the pot as Melody began to look around the apartment from the couch. “Heyyy, hey Patch, he’s gone… you can come out! Sorry, I maybe haddd… like, one drink more than I planned…”
Patch recognized that tone. It was the tone they used, when they became even less predictable than usual. They knew about alcohol, and the effects it had on humans, but they had never seen Melody under its influence. Fearfully, they ducked back behind the plant as she spoke again.
“Paaaatch, I know you’re around, it’s late. Come onnn, where are youuuu? Clay’s gone… I promise…”
Where are you…? The words, spoken with that tone, activated something in Patch’s memory. Memories of them, stumbling around the room, trying to find where Patch had hidden. Wanting to stay in control of the situation, Patch decided to make their presence known, though it didn’t take long for Melody to locate them as they rounded the flowerpot.
“Heyyy! I was worried for a second. I promise, I… I promise that Clay’s a nice guy, he just… he doesn’t like me, but I’m sure he’d love you… if he met you… after all, you’re the most lovable little guy of all!”
Patch immediately regretted their decision to come closer as Melody reached for them. “Come here, I missed youuuu”, she cooed, as Patch backed away, shaking their head “no”, and praying she would listen. “No, no… please, not you too… don’t just walk away Patch, I need youuu…. Come on, let’s just… let’s hang out, just us… like friends do…”
Patch wasn’t sure what to do. This entire situation was too familiar… Do they run? Do they stay? Nervous about defying Mel while she was in this state, they nervously walked over the edge of the table and held their arms up. Melody’s face lit up in almost childlike wonder, and she wasted no time quickly, and somewhat roughly, grabbing Patch. She began to coo as she held Patch in her hands, luckily not holding onto them too roughly. “Oh Patch, you’re the… the absolute best… I just… I feel like you get me, you know?”
Patch absolutely did not “get” anything about this situation, especially as the human began to cry just moments after sounding so jovial. “I just… I love you so much, you’re… you’re one of my only friends… I thought I could impress my coworkers but I totally… I totally failed… I just made a fool of myself… What am I doing wrong, Patch?”
Patch was getting increasingly unnerved by how much this conversation was familiar… they would often drunkenly ask Patch for advice on how to fix their life… but get upset when the mute sprite couldn’t give any answers. Nervously, they patted the human’s hand with theirs, hoping maybe it would calm her down. They were instantly caught off-guard as Melody brought her hands close to her chest in what was probably meant to be an embrace. If Patch wasn’t so terrified right now, they might have blushed at the awkward position they were in, especially as Melody was still wearing the low-cut outfit from earlier, sans the wings, which must have fallen off at some point. As they strained their head to look at her face, Patch was hit with a realization that put his brief moment of attraction on ice. Even if she looked like a sprite with those fake ears, this was a human he was dealing with, and humans are unpredictable. And dangerous.
“You’re… you’re my best friend, Patch. Is that… is that weird? I feel like I’ve only known you for a few months, but, but, you’re just… you get me…”
Melody continued to cry for a bit, constantly repeating how much she loved Patch, with Patch awkwardly stuck in her grip until she eventually drifted to sleep, Patch in hand.
-
“Oh, gods, my head…” Mel said, as she woke up the next morning on the couch. “Wait… the couch… where’s… Patch!” Melody shouted, shocking her little roommate awake as he lay in her hands. “Oh geez, I’m so sorry! Are you… are you okay? Did I go overboard last night? I, uh… honestly don’t remember much…”
Patch tugged at his scarf, which Melody knew by now was a nervous tic. “Oh no… I didn’t hurt you, did I? Please tell me I didn’t hurt you, I… get huggy sometimes…”
Melody sighed with relief as Patch shook his head no. Before continuing, she gently placed Patch on the other side of the couch as she scooted away from him. “Thank the gods… Ugh, I feel terrible! And not just because of this headache… I should have warned you that I can sometimes get a bit… much after drinking with Tara… she has, uh, a much higher tolerance than I do.”
Patch just listened as Melody went on, unsure what to do in this situation.
“I promise, I’ll make it up to you, really! Um, what if I got strawberries for you? I know those are your favorite. Or, you get dibs on what’s on the TV for like, a week! Two weeks!” Melody said, clearly anxious.
Patch waved his hand dismissively… before stopping and pantomiming the shape of a strawberry, which actually sounded delicious right about now. If she was offering one as an apology anyways…
“Heh, I knew I could win you over,” Mel said, though there was an undeniable nervousness in her tone. “Let me get changed and I’ll go to the store and get you some treats to apologize. And I promise that won’t happen again, promise!”
-
At the store, Mel stocked up their cart with almost every treat they had seen Patch eat. Berries of several kinds, some candies that they knew he could eat, chocolate… Truthfully, Mel felt that simply buying food couldn’t properly apologize for how they treated their roommate, but they didn’t know what else to do.
After getting home, she prepared a giant plate with the treats, and gently called for Patch to come out of his little room, where he had apparently spent the whole time she was gone. Patch walked outside, rubbing his eyes sleepily, before they went wide at his roommate’s apology gift.
“Here, I hope this is enough… I’m really, really sorry. Please forgive me?” asked Mel, nervousness in their tone. Patch couldn’t help but smile and nod as he walked over to a tower of food taller than he was, and started picking at the food. This wouldn’t immediately resolve things, but the offering was definitely appreciated.
-
The next few days were awkward, with Melody apologizing and trying to make amends at every turn. Patch could hardly be in her presence without being asked if they needed or wanted anything, or being drowned in gifts. Patch had repeated many times that it was fine, but admittedly they were experiencing many conflicting feelings about their human roommate right now. They had spent most of the time in their little room, away from Melody, but decided after much consideration to spend a day with her, to try to prove that they weren’t mad at her.
-
“Are you sure you don’t need anything?” Mel once again asked Patch. As he had done the last time she asked, twenty minutes ago or so, he shook his head “no”.
“Oh, okay, well if you do, just let me know, okay?” Mel said, to an expected “yes” nod.
Melody knew Patch would respond that way, but couldn’t help but ask. She didn’t know how else to make him know she was sorry. She had already said the words a million times.
“So… what are you drawing?” she asked, trying to change the subject. To her surprise, Patch jumped a bit, quickly covering the tiny drawing with another piece of paper, before looking around nervously and pointing to the TV. Melody was watching a cartoon, which she knew Patch normally didn’t pay much attention to. She immediately could tell that he was lying, but decided to play it off.
“Okay. Well, um, if you want me to pause or anything to practice, just let me know, okay?” She asked, and Patch nodded affirmatively.
-
Stupid, stupid!, Patch swore to themself as they covered the drawing. It was a silly little thought experiment, just a drawing of a human… who looked remarkably like them. If they were human… what would that be like? How would their relationship with Melody change? Would they be brave enough to actually…
Frustrated with the direction their thoughts kept going, the sprite ripped up the drawing, getting a confused look from the human they were having these feelings for. Melody clearly noticed Patch’s frustration and held her hands up as she spoke.
“It’s fine, I know how it goes sometimes… I mean I haven’t drawn in ages, but sometimes you just can’t make it look right, I get it. I’m sure you’ll nail it next time!”
Patch took a deep breath before nodding and beginning to draw something else, leaving their little thought experiment behind.
Part 5
Something was off with Melody. Despite the human claiming things were fine, Patch could tell from the energy in the apartment that Melody was feeling upset. At first, Patch assumed it was the cold weather, as the first snowfall of the year was a few days ago, but that probably wasn’t it, as her mood had actually gone up on that morning. Granted, it was mostly because she could call out of work, but still, the human seemed to enjoy the snow.
It was an ordinary afternoon, with Patch sitting on the couch watching TV, and Melody sitting on the other end of the couch reading a book, when suddenly Mel’s phone began to vibrate. She only looked at the phone before a look of disgust showed on her face, and she looked back at the book. After a moment, the phone went quiet, only to begin to vibrate again a moment later.
“Ugh!” cried Mel, as she reached over and pressed a button, causing the phone to stop. She looked over at Patch, who was watching the entire thing with confusion.
“Sorry… that was, uh… a number I didn’t want to answer,” said Melody.
Patch continued his staring, tilting his head again to make it clear that he wanted to ask a follow-up question.
“I said it was nobody!” snapped Mel, before she continued reading, as the phone vibrated again. Patch was a bit taken aback, Melody almost never snapped like that, especially not without something big happening.
Patch had to get to the bottom of this. With a determined look, they pointed to the phone again, as it began to vibrate once more. Melody sighed in frustration, and finally grabbed the phone.
“Fine, she gets one chance,” was all Mel said as she pressed on the screen, and a voice came out. Patch couldn’t help but eavesdrop, and heard a name that was decidedly not Melody’s before the human hung up just as quickly as she had answered.
“Aaaand that was her chance.”
Patch was still curious, and mimicked holding a phone to their ear.
Melody put her head in her hands before speaking. “Ugh, fine. That was… my mother.”
Her mother? Patch was instantly curious, but more than that, a bit envious. The human has a chance to speak to her mother, no matter where they are, and she chooses to ignore them? Patch couldn’t help but look at Melody with a scolding glare, hands on his hips.
“What’s with the face?” asked Mel, but she knew the answer. “I know, I know what you’re thinking. Mel, why would you ignore your mom? Well, it’s complicated. She, uh, doesn’t really like me. To say the least.”
This only confused Patch further. Why would she be so insistent on reaching out, then? Patch pointed at the phone, and mimed picking it up again, before pointing at Mel, which seemed to frustrate her.
“I’m not answering the phone to a woman who won’t even use my name!” snapped Melody. “She does this every year around the holidays, calling and begging and pleading for her son to come back to them and be a family again, but it’ll never happen! I’m on my own now, and I’m happier this way, and I don’t need anybody else!”
Despite how confident she sounded, tears were forming on her face. Patch realized they may have misunderstood the situation, and walked over, placing a gentle hand on the side of Mel’s thigh. The human sighed, before speaking again in a calmer voice, “Well, that’s not true. I have my cool little roommate, and I definitely don’t know what I’d do without you. At least you like me for who I am… I think.”
Patch nodded affirmatively, and Mel smiled. “Thanks, dude. Maybe… maybe at some point I’ll tell you the whole story, but you don’t need to worry about it… or me. I’m okay, I promise.”
At that, Patch simply nodded.
“You know, I guess I never asked about your parents. I mean, I guess I’m assuming you have them?” Melody asked, suddenly curious.
It didn’t take long for her to notice Patch’s uncomfortable expression, though.
“Oh shit, are they, uh…” the human said, her voice trailing off.
Patch simply shrugged.
“Oh… I’m sorry I brought it up. I, uh, guess that explains why you were so adamant about me answering the phone. I… I’m sorry.”
There was a moment of silent tension between the two, which was finally broken by the phone vibrating again.
“Yep, it’s her.”
Patch walked over to the phone and kicked it, getting a small giggle from Mel.
“Thanks, buddy. That’ll show her.”
Part 6
The holidays were always tough for Melody, ever since she had left her family. Normally, she would just spend them like any other day, maybe taking up shifts at the library when they were open. But this year, something was different, she had a roommate.
“So… I guess it’s a weird question to ask, but do you have any, like, winter holidays?” Melody asked one day, after seeing the first holiday commercial of the season (Several weeks before December, of course).
-
Patch seemed to light up, and nodded his head yes. One of the few holidays that sprites celebrated was on the winter solstice, when the night was the longest.
“Oh, that’s so cool! I’d love to learn more about it… maybe we could celebrate together! When is it? What do you do?” Melody asked, instantly excited by the prospect of learning about a different culture’s customs, especially a non-human one.
Patch nodded, and motioned a sign that Mel had come to understand as “Let me try to draw it”.
“Okay! Got it, let me go get your notepad.” Patch went to work trying to draw what he was able to express. On the Solstice, inspired by the humans’ celebrations around that time, sprites would exchange gifts and try to watch the stars when they could, which were believed to be the ancestors of the sprites watching them from the heavens. They would use that time to huddle for warmth and share stories of their ancestors, to keep traditions alive.
Of course, all of that was a bit complicated to draw without using a single word. Patch had slowly been introducing Melody to their written language, drawing objects and what their names looked like, but Melody still wasn’t able to read much.
“Okay, okay, let me try to figure this out…” they said, looking over the drawings once Patch had finished.
“Okay, we have… a drawing of day and night… then a shorter day and longer night… then a moon… oh, that word means moon, right! Longer night, moon… the longest night of the year?” She deduced, and Patch nodded approvingly.
“So, the winter solstice… that would make sense, a lot of cultures have holidays around then… Okay, more drawings… somebody giving something to somebody else… that makes sense, like Christmas. Then we have… one of your kind watching the stars… that’s a really good drawing, actually.” Mel continued, as Patch blushed at the compliment.
“So, gift giving, stargazing… I don’t know what this one means, though,” said Melody as she looked at the final part of the drawing, being a triangle of stylized faces with Patch’s distinct pointy ears.
Patch thought for a minute, before beginning to pantomime speaking.
“Talking… speaking… telling a story? Yes! Telling stories about… each other?” Patch shook their head. Struggling to think of how to clarify, they thought back to the conversation a few days ago, and pointed to Melody’s phone. After a moment of thinking, she seemed to get the message.
“... Mom. Telling stories about family, huh?”
Patch noticed Mel’s mood turned downwards, but nodded.
“Okay… I think I’m getting the picture now. It’s a time for family, just like our holidays, huh?”
Patch nodded again, and Melody seemed thoughtful.
“Well… obviously I’m not talking to my family… and you said you don’t know where your parents are… I guess we can celebrate together, though. I can teach you about our holidays, and we can celebrate yours, ooh, this is exciting actually! I could be the first human to celebrate your holiday! Isn’t that a cool thought?”
-
Before long, the night was upon them. Melody had set up a countdown to both holidays, the winter solstice and Christmas day. At Patch’s instruction, Melody prepared a nice meal, although the meal was far more lavish than anything Patch’s kind would have been able to prepare.
After sharing a meal while watching a holiday special (Since there was nothing else on this close to Christmas), Melody began to prepare for the exciting part, to her.
“Gift time!” They announced, and Patch seemed to light up as well. Melody brought Patch back to his room, where he disappeared behind the fabric door.
When he emerged, there was a small box in front of the door that Mel had wrapped in a ribbon.
“I know normally you turn down gifts, but I figured this was my chance to help you out,” Mel said, as they gently pushed the box a little closer to Patch.
Meanwhile, Patch stood there with something hidden behind his hands. He placed the object, a small piece of wood about the size of a coin, down on the counter, face down, before gently pushing it towards the human.
“Oh?” said Mel in confusion. Truthfully, they weren’t sure what to expect as a gift from Patch, but they excitedly flipped the small wooden object over to reveal a tiny painting of Melody.
“A… Patch, how did you even get… Nevermind that, this is wonderful!” They exclaimed, as Patch blushed slightly. Truthfully, the detail was incredible for such a small piece. The colors were slightly odd, but Mel was more surprised that Patch was able to find any kind of dyes to work with at his small size.
“Well, yours was super from the heart, and mine was just from the store… I hope you like it anyways,” Mel said, suddenly feeling a bit inadequate. Patch opened the box, and Mel saw his eyes light up and ears perk at the box of paper clips they had prepared as a gift.
“I know you use them a lot for your little rope ladders and stuff… I figured it would be a useful gift…”
Patch smiled wide at Melody before pushing the box into his room, and she knew that the gift was appreciated.
-
After receiving the generous gift from Melody, Patch pointed to the window. It was time to watch for stars.
“Right, right. Luckily, my window has a pretty nice view of the sky, and it looks clear enough, we might see a few stars!”
After holding her palm up, she gently lifted Patch and moved herself and her little roommate over to the windowsill. Mel placed Patch down as she leaned her elbows on the other side, watching Patch look up at the sky. He seemed lost in thought.
“... I wish I could hear your stories… I’m sure you have lots to share,” Melody mused. “I only know a few words of your language, though… not nearly enough. Maybe by next year…”
Silence filled the room for a moment as both parties watched the sky.
“Oh, is that- No, sorry, that’s a plane…”
More silence filled the room.
Breaking the silence in the best way they could, Patch gently tapped on Mel’s arm, before pointing at her and then the sky, with one or two stars breaking through the city’s lights.
“Me? Oh… my stories, yeah.” Melody said, but her attitude seemed withdrawn.
“Um… I don’t really know what to say about my family. They’re kind of… not in my life anymore. There’s my mom and my brother, Archie, but… like I said, there isn’t much to talk about.”
Patch nodded, taking in the new information. They knew Melody has a mother, but the sibling was new information.
“Do you have any siblings?” Melody asked.
Patch shook their head, before holding up one tiny finger.
“Ah… okay.”
Once more, awkward silence draped over the two of them, though Patch seemed content to watch the sky.
“You know, there’s so much I want to know about you, buddy. Your past, your family… your name. I feel like I should know more about you by now.” Melody mused.
“Do your people have anything like New Year’s Resolutions?” she asked.
Patch looked at her in confusion, so she began to elaborate.
“It’s basically when you’re really determined to do something in the next year. I don’t usually do them, but I think… I think my goal is to learn your language, really focus on it… maybe even teach you mine while I’m at it. That way, I can finally learn more about you.”
Patch smiled and nodded, a determined look on his face. If he was going to live with Melody, they needed to be able to communicate better.
“I’ll take that as a yes. I’m warning you, I’m far from the best teacher, but I’m sure I could find some library books that could help…” Melody trailed off, already lost in thought planning how to start the lessons. She was interrupted by a small feeling on her arm. Looking down, she saw that Patch was sitting on the windowsill, leaning up against her arm as he watched the sky.
Learning could wait. Tonight, they were watching the stars.
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razzle-zazzle · 2 months ago
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Whumptober Day 14: Left for Dead
"'Cause I want you to know what it feels like to be haunted" -tiLLie, kooL aiD mAn
2367 Words; Divergent AU
TW for attempted emotional manipulation (pythor)
AO3 ver
The ocean was just as blue looking from sandy shores as it was looking from the lighthouse.
Well, no, not exactly the same—it was much closer, now, the sense of distance he was so used to gone. But the white-capped blue looked almost the same as ever, so he turned his attention to the rest of the beach behind him. To the trees further on, and the jungle further beyond that.
Cole—the bulkier of the two humans who had found him—and Morro—the human with the green streak in his hair—had disappeared into the trees a while ago to check on something. This left him with Pythor—the Serpentine, a species that he had never seen before—who had taken to lying on a particularly warm boulder higher up on the shore, eyes closed.
It was… it was all so new.
(“Do you want to leave?” Morro had asked, after Cole and Pythor had—with his instruction—helped get his leg and arm working again.
He had. He wanted to leave so badly.)
His name… Father had named him Zane, but when he had proclaimed that to the group, they had all exchanged looks he couldn’t decipher. Cole in particular had looked at him so strangely, and kept tripping over his name, like something was knotted up in his mouth. That was new, too.
But the group’s boat had ferried them westwards to this island—not the mainland Father had once lived on, which was to the east of the lighthouse—and Cole and Morro had disappeared behind the treeline fairly quick, leaving Zane and Pythor behind.
He ambled over to Pythor, careful of the shifting sand beneath his feet. His joints creaked, not particularly happy with the boat trip and the sea air, but they didn’t give out. He poked Pythor’s head, and waited for a response.
Nothing. He poked the white-splattered scales again, and Pythor grumbled. Violet eyes opened barely a crack, squinting blearily up at him. “Oh, what do you want now?” Pythor demanded, rolling his tail over slightly. “I can’t entertain you all day, you know—these tired old bones need their rest.”
Zane considered his words, mulling them over. Pythor’s eyes slipped closed, a low hiss escaping his mouth like a sigh, and Zane spoke.
“Does my name bother you?” Well, Pythor had seemed more surprised than bothered, but he surely knew Cole better than Zane did, and would be able to remedy any confusion.
Pythor’s eyes opened again. “What?”
“Does my name bother you?” Zane repeated, like he would for when Father didn’t quite hear him, or forgot the question. Then, after a moment, he started to elaborate, “When I introduced myself, you all looked at me funny—”
“Yes, yes, I heard you the first time.” Pythor held up a hand. He hmmed, his head lifting up to regard Zane more closely. “As for your question… not particularly.” He answered, lazily waving his hand. “I find it more ironic, maybe even amusing.” His head fell back to the rock, his eyes starting to close—
“Does my name bother Morro?” Zane asked, no less confused than before. “And why do you find my name ‘ironic’?”
Pythor stared at him reproachfully. “My, you ask a lot of questions.”
“It is part of my purpose, so that I can help aid Father’s memory.” Zane stated. “Does my name—”
“I wouldn’t know.” Pythor shrugged, cutting Zane off. “You’d have to ask the boy yourself.” He sat up a bit, readjusting to bring his tail around in front of him so that he could rest his neck upon the coil. “As for why your name is ironic—well, it really only makes it clear that you’re a copy.”
“I do not understand.”
Pythor chuckled lowly. “I imagine you wouldn’t.” He yawned, then spoke again. “Tell me, did this Father of yours ever mention any other… children, of his? Other creations, other sons?” He sounded lightly amused, though Zane wasn’t sure why.
Zane took a moment to think over his answer. “He would often tell me of his time on the mainland,” he started, “but he never mentioned any other sons. Why?” Well, no, Father had once mentioned having a son, but always brushed it off or insisted that Zane was his son, his only son.
Pythor grinned. It was slightly unsettling. “You really don’t know?” He reared up, neck twisting to bring his head closer to Zane’s. “You’re not the original Zane.” He crowed, looking Zane up and down, “You’re clearly just the copy cobbled together from scraps.” At once, his pleased demeanor vanished, replaced with something more sympathetic. “I imagine your Father must have been lonely, in that lighthouse. No wonder he rebuilt the son he loved so much.”
Now it was Zane’s turn to be perplexed. Thrown, even. “What…?”
Pythor reached over, patting Zane’s shoulder. “I’ve met him, you know. The first Zane. Fought him, even.” His eyes slipped closed in remembrance, “Ohhh, it was certainly a time. You know, I didn’t even know he was a nindroid until… hmm… I suppose it must have been sometime after being swallowed by the Great Devourer.”
“Nindroid?” Zane asked, feeling incredibly lost. Then, discarding the term as unimportant—“What do you mean, anoth—an original Zane? I’m Zane.”
Pythor hmmed, tapping his claws against Zane’s shoulder. “A copy.” He declared. “Made of scrap and abandoned when the original came along—”
Zane punched out, knocking himself over. Sand caught in the cracks and seams of his back as he got back up, and Pythor stared at him.
Zane decided he didn’t like the serpent. He opened his mouth—to say what, he didn’t even know—
“What the fuck are you doing, you old bag of scales?” And there was Cole and Morro, slightly muddy from their trek, coming out of the treeline. “You said you would watch the boat!”
Pythor pointed out to shore. “Well, it’s not like it’s gone… any… where…” He trailed off as he realized what Cole and Morro had already noticed: the boat was gone, the tide higher than it had been when they arrived. “Hm.” Pythor looked at Cole, then shrugged. “Well, it’s not my fault you didn’t haul it in far enough—”
“Pythor is a liar.” Zane stated, uncaring of the current conversation. “He’s been saying that I’m—that there’s—he says there’s another Zane!”
At once, Cole froze, eyes wide. Morro shuffled off to the side, and Pythor laid his head back down on the rock. “I—” Cole started, jaw working, then, “I’m sorry.”
That… no. No no no, why was Cole acting like Pythor was right—
“You… knew?” Zane asked. The world seemed to tilt, but that didn’t make sense—his body hadn’t moved at all, and was still standing perpendicular to the ground.
“Why, of course!” Pythor interjected, “He and Zane are—or were, I suppose—the best of friends! Brothers, even.”
“Pythor.” Cole growled, “shut up.” He turned back to Zane. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know how to say it—”
“To say what? That I’m just the replacement?” Zane demanded. Then, against his better judgment, he asked, “What is the other me like? Is he…” So many different questions flashed through his processors, and he settled on, “Is he better than me?”
“Absolutely not,” Morro cut in, from somewhere behind Zane. “Look, as someone who’s older than Pythor, and thus wiser—”
“You are not older than me!” Pythor argued, only to snap his mouth shut when Cole gave him a look.
“—take it from me.” Morro continued, “You’re not him.” He looked Zane up and down. “Pythor’s full of it.” He added, and Zane opened his mouth to ask what Pythor was supposedly full of—
“You are like him.” Cole said, the look in his eyes similar to Father’s eyes when he reminisced about the mainland. “But you’re also different.”
“You mean worse.” Zane accused.
Cole shook his head. “No,” he said, voice hard, “You’re… you, and that’s not a bad thing.” He sighed. “None of us knew.” He said. “When we found Professor Julien at the lighthouse, he never mentioned—” He cut himself off, looking at Zane with something an awful lot like sympathy. “I’m sorry.”
“You… were there?” Cole had been in the group that had taken Father away, that had left Zane behind—
“Yeah, yeah, so Rusty here was made because Snowball’s dad was lonely, whatever.” Morro slung his arm over Zane’s shoulders. “You’re not gonna be stuck in Snowball’s shadow, okay?” He nodded, “I’ll make sure of it.”
Zane shrugged Morro’s arm off of his shoulders. “I don’t want—I just—don’t call me rusty.” It was true, he was rusted at parts, thanks to the sea air, but—it felt like an insult. He bet the other Zane wasn’t rusty.
Wait. “The other Zane…” Zane started, “Is he mechanical?” Or was he flesh and blood, like Father, and Zane was simply made in his image?
“He was just as mechanical as you even before he blew himself up.” Pythor answered. Cole glared at him, and he raised his hands in surrender. “All right, shutting up now.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Cole groused. “He’s him, and you’re you. Neither of you is better than the other.” He turned to where the boat had been, and changed the subject. “Well, we’re stuck here until we build a raft. Do we start right away, or do we wanna continue,” He gestured towards Zane, “figuring this out?”
Zane would have crossed his arms if his joints allowed it. Truthfully, he didn’t exactly want to go out to sea again so soon—but he wanted to think about this new revelation even less. He was angry—but at what, he wasn’t sure.
“Well, if I can’t call you Rusty,” Morro started, “How about Copper?”
“Too close to cop.” Pythor shot it down. “Why not Echo? Since he’s a copy, and all.”
“Absolutely not.” Cole cut in, then turned to Zane. “What do you want to be called?”
Zane had no idea. “My name is Zane.” He stated. “I’ve never had another.” He frowned. “But I don’t want to just be… his copy.” His name was Zane, but that name bothered Cole—and was starting to feel weird, to Zane.
“It won’t be replacing your name.” Cole said softly. “It’ll just be a nickname. Like Breezy.” He gestured at Morro, who huffed.
“Or Dirtclod,” Morro added, gesturing to Cole.
“I… I think I would like a nickname.” Zane agreed. He didn’t want to give up his name, the one that Father had given him—
(“Zane is my son,” He’d say, though now Zane wondered if Father had only been talking about the other Zane—)
—But he didn’t want to be called by it until he met the other Zane, and convinced him to take another name. If this other Zane was so great, he could surely bear to part with his name. Of course, that plan necessitated meeting him, which… Zane wasn’t sure he wanted to do.
“I don’t know what, though.” Zane added. How was he supposed to pick a nickname?
“Gold, maybe.” Morro suggested. “Because you’re not gonna be second best to that goody-two-shoes.”
“Why not Pyrite?” Pythor suggested. “It sounds similar to pyro, setting you apart from him and his ice powers.”
“His… what?” Ice powers? Like the way Morro had bent the wind to his control to power their boat’s sail?
“We are not naming him for fool’s gold—” Cole interjected—
“Lux, since he grew up in a lighthouse.” Morro suggested.
“I—” Zane started, as they continued listing potential names.
“Junior, he’s the younger Za—” Pythor suggested, as Cole grabbed him by the neck. “Ack—!”
“Cole, you’re the mineral nerd, is there another word for gold?” Morro asked.
Cole, still holding Pythor’s neck, rattled off several words, ignoring the way Pythor was hissing at him. “Uhh, aurum, I think, oro, kin—”
“STOP!” Zane yelled, bringing everything to a screeching halt. “Please, just—let me think.”
They stopped. Cole let go of Pythor’s neck, and Morro scuffed his shoes on the sand.
“I think… I want to be called Echo.” He said. “Not because I am a copy, but because… I was built to protect those who cannot protect themselves. I was built to remember the things that Father could not.” He had been alone in that lighthouse but for Tai-D for so long, slowly rusting apart as he waited for something to change. “Nobody should be alone.” He decided. “So I will be the echo that reminds them they are not.”
“Okay.” Cole agreed. “Echo it is, then.”
Echo nodded. Echo. Echo. He liked the way that sounded. He was still Zane, of course, but now he was also Echo.
Pythor grinned, quite pleased with himself. “Let it be known that I suggested that name—” He started—
“Let it be known that you lost our boat.” Morro interjected. “Of course, it’s what we get for entrusting it with someone too young to handle the responsibility—”
Echo watched as Pythor and Morro launched into a full argument, Pythor lunging at Morro and the two of them starting to tumble around in the sand. It wasn’t quite the same as how they had bickered on the boat ride here—in fact, it was much louder.
Cole watched them fight for a moment, then sighed heavily. He turned to Echo. “Let’s get started on that raft.” He suggested. “While they get sand up their asses.” He added drily. “Does that sound good, Echo?”
Echo nodded. He had never built a raft before! “Yes, let us. You will have to show me how.”
A gust of wind-blasted sand hit the spot where Echo was moments before, and Cole, holding Echo in the air as though he weighed very little, walked back several paces. “Oh.” Echo commented, as Cole set him down out of the blast zone. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” Cole mumbled, already moving towards the trees. Echo trailed after him, eager to see how building a raft worked.
He was out of the lighthouse, and ready to see the world Father had described to him. There was so much he still didn’t know—and someone he wished he’d never learned about, and did not want to think about right now—
But he would make it work. He was no longer alone, after all.
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blackjackkent · 8 months ago
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I'm going through Withers' dialogue with a PC who romanced Karlach at the epilogue party after she dies (for Reasons), and I'm not going to make use of this in the thing I'm writing but I NEED EVERYONE TO KNOW that this dialogue exists:
PC: "I'm being strong. It's what she would have wanted."
Withers: Truly? Most of the time it was she who was strong for thee. Didst thou not employ her ever to carry all of thine loot?
PC: Are you making a joke?
Withers: It is said that mortals require levity, that it is the antidote to any of the darkest hours. And who knew that better than she?
Alternatively:
PC: It was scary how many goblin clubs she could carry.
Withers: With thee, she couldst do anything.
😭😭😭😭
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skyward-floored · 10 months ago
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Hm. This fic took a turn for the serious.
...it wasn’t supposed to do that.
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ghostlyarchaeologist · 2 years ago
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Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
(Hint: it was about 1 minute later.)
Almost Paradise S01E09 A Wedding to Die For.
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daniwib · 6 months ago
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I feel like doing some writing!
Opens doc. Checks tumblr. Writes two lines. Checks discord. Writes one line. Oh wait I need to check something. Searches if you can feel a pulse in a lion's leg. Gets distracted reading a very interesting blog about lion pride dynamics and the individuality of roars. Scraps the line about the pulse cos no answer fast too hard distraction bad. Wrote a whole paragraph, woohoo! That deserves a cup of coffee as a reward. I may as well put a load of laundry on while the kettle is boiling, my sheets need washing. Oh wait I was going to buy my parents new sheets and it's prime day soon and but I need to confirm what size Dad's doona is. Calls Mum. Chats for half an hour. Finds suitable sheets and puts into cart ready for the sale. Reboils kettle and actually makes a cup of coffee. Sits at keyboard and cracks knuckles. Right, let's write! Oh shit it's time for the school run. And I forgot to hang the washing out.
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blarefordaglare · 11 months ago
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day 7 - suffering in silence
In which Wind (fairy au) has vision problems because I said so 
Also I have a little extra headcanon for the fairy au and there is a tiny spoiler in it for it :)
Also bonus b/c it’s a tiny bit late:
____
The ocean was a very bright surface to sail on. Of course, during his journey before he got his wings he never really payed attention to the bright water. Yet, after he came home, something seemed different. The bright lights of the water seemed to reflect right into the fairy’s pupils and singe them if he stared any longer.
You couldn’t sail to shore with your eyes closed though, so Wind allowed his eyes to be exposed. Of course he didn’t get out of it damage-free, but he could still see clear enough to differentiate colors, so what’s the big deal? It wasn’t like he couldn’t see anything, he still had some vision left.
“Hey sailor!” A cheery voice rang through Wind’s ears, he opened his eyes and quickly searched around to find who he was looking at, oh, it was Four. “I’m planning on fixing your shield today, would you like to help?” 
Wind nodded his head, his eyes darting around to find where his shield was. I’ll just follow his footsteps and find it there. 
Wind’s plan was originally working out perfectly. He simply would just listen to the smith’s directions and act accordingly, memorizing where every tool, edge, and rock were placed. Four had the shield on his own little side of the makeshift forge so Wind didn’t have to worry about burning himself, which made things much easier on the sailor. 
“Alright, be careful, this piece of metal is hot. I’m leaving it here.” Four got up from his chair to get a drink, leaving wind alone with the piece of metal. Of course, he didn’t know where it was, but judging by how the shield has not been in an arms length of him, he assumed he would be okay.
Turns out you should not assume things when working with hot metal, the second wind reached out to grab his gloves, a very hot material came in contact with his hands. The sailor could practically hear the layers of his skin burn off, and along with that, turns out his wince of pain didn’t go unnoticed. 
“Sailor- what are you doing?” An angry captain voice rang through the forest, “The smith just told you it was hot.” 
“Yeah but I didn’t see where it was-“ Crap. Big mistake, “I mean I did see it but I was,” Wind paused, “Distracted.” 
“Distracted enough to reach your hand into flames? I don’t think so.” The sound of fabric clasping together made Wind know that Warriors was most definitely crossing his arms, “And this isn’t the first time I’ve seen you dismiss obvious details. Like when that bokoblin was practically in your face.” The captain sighed, “Sailor, can you see alright?”
Wind’s breath hitched. He’d been caught, yet, maybe he just wouldn’t suffer in silence anymore.
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befuddled-calico-whump · 4 months ago
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He can no longer sit up on his own.
(art from this drabble)
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gintrinsic-writing · 10 months ago
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A (very belated) continuation of a 2022 Whumptober fill, in which Link, after being Cia's prisoner for 2 years, is found by the Chain.
For @gingerest-ale and @sighfineillcomeback.
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whumpninja · 20 days ago
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I have FORTY ASKS I haven’t answered
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another-whump-sideblog · 10 months ago
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Give you whumpee tendonitis and force them to keep doing the same thing that caused it. Like, for example, a whumpee with shoulder tendonitis working somewhere where they raise their arms above their head several times an hour
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lumpsbumpsandwhumps · 1 year ago
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well this next whumpee!reader insert isn't going to be short i guess
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