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votederpycausemufins · 4 years ago

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another chapter of the ‘we summoned Tommy and now we found out Grian’s family” fic. this chapter is very long.

also warning, there are some references to sui//cide, but it’s never directly mentioned by name.

Phil tried to ignore the way his chest hurt at the name that had been said. Sure, biologically Grian was his son, but it had been years since they had seen each other, and he had grown up with different people who became a new family for him. And he understood that, but it still hurt that the avian thought of someone else as his dad.

“Er, not quite.”

“Oh, okay,” Grian spoke, matter of factly. The two of them stayed quiet for a few moments before he spoke again. “You found me ‘gain.”

“That I did.”

“You didn’t stop lookin’”

“Nope.” Phil replied, though he knew it was a lie. Of course he always wanted to find his son again, but he had given up actually looking a number of years ago. It wasn’t worth focusing on one child and ignoring the others. But he supposed that’s sort of what happened anyway with him and Tommy.

“That’s what I thought. It kept me goin’ on th’ really bad days.”

“Am I allowed to know what those bad days were?”

Grian was silent before shaking his head. “Hurts too much…”

“That’s alright mate. How about you talk about some other stuff.”

And so Grian did. Talking with Phil about some of the things he had done over the years. Eventually, Stress arrived and helped out, getting the bots up there with Grian and Phil. At that point the stories stopped and Grian focused on his kids, who were glad for all the attention. Mumbo returned with Tommy shortly, also bringing Tubbo along, and soon Grian’s nest was filled, making him quite happy.

“He’s looking better.”

“Yeah, I think it was your admin who gave me the gist of things. He was tired and using his Watcher stuff which made him loopy.”

“Yeah, that would do it.” Mumbo shook his head.

“Hey, you know what that means?” Tommy asked, smirking and focusing his gaze on the bots. Jrumbot smiled and pulled out some pumpkin seeds, which Grian quickly pounced on and started eating. “That part of the bird stuff is great.”

“And what part isn’t so great?” Philza asked, though for a moment he regretted it, thinking the teen wouldn’t respond and just stay quiet or get angry.

But instead he just crossed his arms and gave an over-exaggerated pouting face. “When he gets all mother hen or whatever and is super overbearing. The other shit is fine.”

“Tommy!” Mumbo huffed but the teen just waved him off.

“Oh come on, they’ve heard me say it loads of times. Jrum won’t risk saying anything cause you’ll just take some of his diamonds away.”

“Yeah! I won’t say stuff like that!” Jrum agreed, before suddenly Phil jumped and looked to see a few of his remaining feathers now in the small robot’s hands. “How much would I get for these Tommy?”

“I’m sure if you meet the right people you can get plenty for those. He’s like, trillions of years old, and not many people have them.”

“I’m not that old!” Phil complained, trying to grab the feathers back. He managed to pull one out of Jrumbot’s hand, but the rest ended up disappearing into whatever the kid had for an inventory.

“You’re right. You’re older.” Tommy taunted. “Old as shit. Dinosaurs are younger than you and they’re all dead.”

Philza glared at Tommy before his gaze fell on Grian. The other avian was still out of it, but getting better. Then he looked at Mumbo before rolling his eyes. “Alright Tommy, maybe so. But it means I’ve got more experience.”

Tommy paused, not used to the hardcore player agreeing with him about something like this. He looked over at the bots, who shrugged. It wasn’t like they had grown up with him. “Says the guy who let two mobs get the best of him.”

“Hey that was one time! And that was also years ago!”

“I’m gonna ‘gree, that’s pretty lame.” Grian spoke up, giggling a bit still. “I’m still alive af’er uhhh…” He started counting on his fingers. “I dunno! Lotta years with Sam!”

Mumbo, Tommy and the bots immediately froze up, looking between each other nervously. Tommy moved a little closer to Grian to make sure he had the avian’s attention. “Hey G? You sure that’s okay to talk about? I know normally you-”

“Pfft, it’s fine! Not like I died! ‘Stead I just hurt a lot, killed some pipul, selled some drugs, stuff like that!” Grian looked over to Philza, who was starting to regret staying around when everyone else arrived. “Ya know, almost didn’ make it. But I didn’ wanna disappoint you by giving up. Mmm… plus Gareth freaked me out too much ‘n I didn’ wanna be like him.”

“Okay Grian! I think you should really get to sleep now! We can talk about this more later! But don’t you want to uh…” Mumbo trailed off.

“I can get the jukebox once you’ve slept!” Tommy continued for Grian who seemed to really like that idea. He finally laid down and before long he fell asleep.

It was still quiet for a bit, no one sure how to react to all of that at first. Phil and Tubbo were the quietest since they had little to no context. Because of that, they easily jumped when Tommy finally shouted and broke the silence. “Okay Mumboli, when the fuck were you going to tell me about that part of all that shit?!”

“First off, that would be something Grian would need to tell you, not me! Second off, I didn’t even know about that!” The anger on Mumbo’s face quickly turned to some sort of melancholy. “He didn’t even tell me. I mean, he had made some jokes, but I assumed that it was just from the situation. It does make sense he would think of… but…” The redstoner became quiet, his normally pale face much paler than before.

“Daddy?” Grumbot spoke up, making Mumbo look at the bots. Jrum was shaking a bit and Grum didn’t look quite so well himself. “I think Jrum and I should leave.”

“R-Right. Let me help you down.” The redstoner picked Jrum up to help him down the ladder, Grum still well enough to go down it himself. Before he left the platform though, he got Tommy’s attention and nodded towards Tubbo and Philza. “Try to fill them in. If Grian wakes up before I’m back, tell him what he did. He deserves to know.”

Tommy nodded, waiting for Mumbo to leave before saying anything. “So… Grian kinda got stuck in a fucked up place for a number of years. He’s told Mumbo a lot of stories and me some as well, but not everything of course. Basically, he had two friends. If he was me, one of them was like you Tubbo. But uh… the other guy was like Dream. Like, Dream’s an admin and all that, but this other guy was for the most part just a fucking normal guy around my age but he went off the deep end. G and the other friend escaped, but not for a long time. That place was a hardcore world, but they didn’t have potions or healing or whatever the fuck. I mean, there weren’t any mobs either, so death wasn’t at every corner. I mean I guess it was for G because the one guy was a psycho and murderer, but whatever.”

“Wait, are you telling me that this guy just lived with someone potentially worse than Dream for years?!” Tubbo asked while Philza was trying to comprehend it all.

“Uh, well they didn’t live with each other all the time, but yeah. But ‘cause it’s probably good for you guys to know, his main triggers are wearing blue as well as rabbits. If someone else is wearing blue, it’s fine, but if he’s wearing blue it freaks him out. With the rabbits thing, some of them being around are fine, but white rabbits especially freak him out ‘cause the guy was a hybrid.”

“Alright, noted.”

“One of the people most frustrated about it is Grumbot because, well you know how he just suddenly knew who you were, right Phil? They kinda first built him to help with the election here- long story, talk about it another time- and he’s able to look into a lot of stuff, but only based on political stuff. There wasn’t really anything like that with G’s first world. I mean, he gets fragments since Grian’s been a campaign manager before, but all that really comes up is empire stuff.”

“Uh, he had an empire? Was it anything like-” Tubbo timidly asked, glancing to the unconscious avian.

“Nah, basically he just built a big thing in the middle of the ocean and decided he would become the Grian Empire. The only other member was his friend- the good one- but he went off and made his own place pretty quickly. The worst he did is the TNT there was really volatile. If you so much as touched it after placing it, it would explode. He’s told the TNT shop story a number of times where he built the shop out of it and made the stock the walls of the shop.”

“Was that the first time he did something like that, or did it never go anywhere?”

“No that’s the thing!” Tommy started laughing. “He did it so many fucking times and someone still fell for it! That’s why it’s such a great story.”

From there, Tommy continued to mostly tell lighthearted stories Grian had shared with him. He talked about the prank war and following civil war from the Hermits’ previous world. The hippies against area 77, the time machine, the build height battle. After that he brought up the head games, which freaked Phil and Tubbo out when he suddenly pulled out what at first appeared to be a severed head but was actually a very accurate mask. From there the election was talked about like Tommy had promised, and then the following turf war and its minigame battle.

“I showed up right after the turf war which I’m really glad about because it freaked me out enough just hearing about it. I can’t imagine having to learn what wars here were actually like while in the middle of it all. Instead when Grian visited me when I was holed up in his old place, he just kept talking about the mole people. Around then’s when I really started opening up, especially when Zed showed up.”

“Who’s that?”

“Sheep hybrid that makes contraptions instead of redstone. He made me a bed that just kills me instead of what it should.” Grian spoke up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He was still slightly groggy from just waking up, but the three SMP members could tell he looked rested and more lucid than earlier. “Where’s Mumbo and the kids?”

“He had to take them away.” Tommy answered, covering Tubbo and Phil’s mouths before they could say anything, even though they weren’t going to. “Grian, you were like, super out of it earlier.”

“Oh oof, how bad was it?”

“Well,” Philza pulled Tommy’s hand away from his mouth. “You mistook me for some person named Martin and asked me to swear loyalty to your empire. Then you called me some name resembling your admin’s name.”

“X eye sooma void?”

“Exactly.”

Grian laughed a little. “Yeah, a number of the hermits call him some variation of his name so I took it to the next level when I first showed up.”

Tommy put a hand on Grian’s knee and the avian looked over, smile falling from his face when he noticed the serious look on the teen. He immediately sat up straighter, worried for his brother. “Tommy what’s wrong?”

Tommy noticed the way Grian’s hand moved like it wanted to grab a weapon, something he had seen constantly when the two of them were alone at night and the avian was being overprotective of him when he could take care of himself. Well okay there was the factor that all the mobs here seemed to be stronger, but that wasn’t too bad. Grian asking Tommy’s name again pulled him from his thoughts and he immediately stopped Grian who was now actually reaching for a weapon. “No! No it’s nothing that bad! You’re going to freak out Big T if you do that!”

“Then what’s going on?!” Grian huffed, crossing his arms, mainly so he wouldn’t try that again.

“When you were really out of it, you said some things. Specifically from your high school stories.”

Grian looked a bit uncomfortable from that, but didn’t look too worried. “Okay. I- was I screaming? Did I scare the boys from that?”

Tommy shook his head. “No. You said something new. It- god G, not even Mumbo knew about it at first.”

Now Grian looked worried, eyes flicking between Tommy and the other two and he pulled his knees up to his chest. “Wh-which thing did I say?”

Tommy stood up, being the only one standing adding to his already tall height. “You mean there’s more shit you haven’t fuckin’ told anyone about?! Grian what the fuck?!”

Tubbo tried to pull Tommy back down, but the blonde teen resisted for a bit before falling back to the ground. “Tommy please. If it’s been this long and he doesn’t want to talk, it's obviously really bad.”

“No, you don’t know some of the shit Grian’s talked about. There’s nothing that could be that bad!”

“Tommy that’s enough.” Philza spoke coldly, making him and Tubbo freeze. “Grian’s not you. He decides what he’s going to talk about. Maybe to most people the stuff he talks about is worse than the stuff he hides, but obviously it’s different for him. So you’re not going to fucking yell at him and make him even worse.”

Tommy frowned angrily, but stayed quiet and slumped back. Tubbo tried to help calm Tommy down while Phil did his best to do the same with Grian. “So… can you tell me what I said? Grian tentatively spoke up, looking to Tommy, but Phil answered instead.

“You mentioned someone named Gareth and not wanting to be like him. Obviously Tommy and Mumbo knew what you were talking about, but me and probably also Tubbo don’t know anything and are still pretty clueless. We just know that it’s something bad.”

Grian let out a quiet ‘oh’ as he pulled his knees even closer to himself. “Um, after I disappeared, I ended up in a different world and made friends with some people named Sam and Taurtis.” Philza tried not to react as he recognized the second name. “At some point in high school I moved in with them, but before that it was just the two of them. They had a teacher named Gareth. He um… his wife was found killed and a lot of people thought he did it. He… got fed up with it and uh..” Grian shook his head. “The classroom was closed up when people found his, uh, body. They took that away but left… left behind what he used. There was one time I snuck in and thought about… you know. But his ghost showed up and freaked me out so I ran.”

After that, it was quiet, no one really knowing how to respond to that. Grian just ended up letting his feathers puff up and he hid in his wings, Tommy being able to wriggle his way in there. The wings ended up muffling a conversation the two had in whispers, though Tubbo and Phil could both hear a few curses from Tommy. Mumbo finally came up the ladder while they were doing this and was greeted by the two SMP members with a finger to their lips. The redstoner wasn’t planning to be loud since he didn’t know if Grian was awake again or not, but he still of course complied. He moved closer to the avian before putting a hand on one wing, Grian moving said wing out of the way to see who was there.

“Mumbo. A- How are the bots?”

“They’ve gone to bed. They seem like they’ll be fine.” Mumbo replied in a soft voice. “You can go back to what you were doing, I just wanted to let you know so you weren’t worried.”

“N-no, it’s fine. I… Hey Tommy, why don’t you show off your base.” When Tommy looked like he might refuse, Grian spoke again. “Please?”

“Alright, but not my fault if a war starts up!”

That earned a smile from the avian. “Wouldn’t have it any other way. Remember to bring scaffolding with you. I’m sure you can find some in the chests in the basement.”

“You mean the storage system, or the fucking chest monster.” Grian smirked an evil little grin. “Fuck you. Alright come on you two. You gotta see Cobble Tower.”

The two other SMP members each gave Grian a look of sympathy before going down the ladder behind Tommy. He led them down to the fireplace that was centering the main hall, but specifically to one side of it. “Alright, this is the quick way up and down.” The teen opened some trap doors revealing some sort of donut-shaped object. “There’s one on the other side, but this is the elevator or whatever the heck Zed called it. You sort of lie down in it like this.” Tommy climbed in, lying down in the small structure. “Then you just hit that button and-“

Redstone activated and suddenly Tommy was lowering out of view. He quickly pointed towards the other side of the fireplace before pulling his arm in so it didn’t get crushed. It took a few moments, but an identical mechanism appeared there, ready for Tubbo or Phil to get into. Tubbo was the first to get in and was soon following behind Tommy. Philza, on the other hand, took more time getting situated, trying to be careful of his wings so they wouldn’t get caught or pinched on anything. He was mostly sure it would be fine since this was Grian’s place and he was an avian, but at the same time, the hardcore player could never be too sure.

When he reached the bottom, Tubbo was busy freaking out over all the items filling the chests. And there were plenty of them. There seemed to be a storage system lining the room, but also plenty of extra chests strewn about. “Hey, Philza Minecraft! Help us look for scaffolding, or at the very least some bamboo and string!”

The avian rolled his eyes before helping the pair, the three of them gathering enough for each of them to have at least two stacks. From there he led them out of the mansion’s basement and around the back of it in the direction of his own base. “Okay, so I haven’t been here as long as the other guys, so my tower is still in progress, but it’s got a couple floors. I mainly stay at the hobbit hole that’s back the other way.”

Both of the SMP members expected to just see a pillar made of cobble, but instead, standing tall in the distance, was a mostly completed tower that looked like it belonged to part of a larger castle that was nowhere in sight.

“Mate what the fuck is that?” Phil stared at the tower. There was no way that was Tommy’s. Or at the very least, he hadn’t built it. He had been close to Grian and they had all just been at Grian’s mansion which was a feat on it’s own. Obviously the avian had been building this for Tommy.

“I said we were going to my tower. And that’s it.” Tommy gestured to the tower before he continued talking. “I gathered all the cobble myself but bought a lot of the wood. Yeah some of it I got myself and I got gifts here and there, but I got a pretty good business venture so paying for it is easy.”

“Business venture?” Tubbo asked.

“Yeah. Speaking of which, I think Bdubs said the shop was empty so I’ll need to refill. Once I show you guys around, I’ll probably fly over to do that.”

“Could I come with you?”

Tommy paused to look at his friend. “I don’t think that’s a good idea Big T. Everyone’s at the shopping district like all the time, and they fly everywhere too. They aren’t all avians like Phil and Big G, and they don’t use tridents all that often, so instead it’s elytra, and those use fireworks to work. I don’t know how you’ve been since I left, but I’m guessing you and fireworks still aren’t on the best of terms.”

Tubbo crossed their arms. “I can use fireworks when I need to. You know that.”

“Yeah, you can use them fine, but you get jumpy when other people use them.”

Before Tubbo could respond, a voice from further ahead piped up. “Hey Tommy my man! Who’re your friends?”

“Hey Ren!” Tommy ran over to his neighbor. “This is my dad and my friend Tubbo. They’re sort of visiting.”

“Nice to hear.” Ren lowered his sunglasses slightly to look at the visitors. “I’m sure X knows about them?”

“Yeah, I sorta got half kidnapped while hanging with Grian and they followed us back.”

Ren inhaled sharply with a wince, his ears folding back as well. “Oof, how bad did Grian scare them?”

“Phil got freaked out cause he did some shit to piss off Watchers in the past.” Tommy smirked while Philza rolled his eyes. “He kinda tried taking me back again as well as the bots. I seriously thought Grian might kill him until Grum kinda shouted at us.”

“Yikes, how bad did it get for him to do that?”

“We kinda kept interrupting him while he was trying to tell us something important.” Ren winced again from that comment. “Fortunately it helped calm things down a little in the violence department.”

“And in the other departments?”

Tommy pulled Phil over closer to Ren. “So Phil isn’t just my dad.”

Ren nodded. “Yeah, you said you had some brothers.”

“Yeah, he’s also Grian’s dad.”

Again, Ren nodded. “Okay, yeah that-” the wolf hybrid completely froze. “Grian’s dad?! But he’s your dad!”

“Yup.”

“But also Grian’s?!”

“Yeah.”

“So the two of you are-”

“Brothers, yup.”

“You know this explains so much my dude.” Ren ran his fingers through his hair as he stared at the avian with his new knowledge. “Who else knows?”

“Right now, Xisuma and Mumbo. Haven’t really gotten the chance to tell many others.”

Ren nodded in understanding. “Does this mean you two aren’t coming to triple H?”

At this point Tubbo finally spoke up. “What’s that? And also it’s nice to meet you. Tommy said your name was Ren?”

“Yup, Ren Diggity Dawg at your service. And it’s Hermits Helping Hermits. We try to meet up once a week to help out one hermit.”

“You say that, but we haven’t even done it once yet Ren.” Tommy piped up, making Ren frown.

“Well that’s how it’s going to work. Hey, if you want, these two could come along.”

“I dunno. There would probably be lots of flying.” Tommy shrugged before slightly gesturing towards Tubbo.

“Tommy! I don’t need you acting so concerned for me! A few fireworks aren’t going to freak me out! Plus aren’t there unlimited lives here? Even if I do die I’ll just come back!”

Before Tommy could say anything in response, Tubbo took the elytra that were on Tommy’s back and put them on their own back. Ren seemed to be on Tubbo’s side, because he handed them some blank fireworks. He immediately lit one, which made them flinch just a little, but the next one didn’t cause them to have the same reaction. The only problem was while he was using the fireworks, he wasn’t getting into the air at all. “Uh, how exactly do these work?”

Tommy looked like he wanted to shout, but Ren spoke up before the teen could. “Elytra wings open up on descent, so you have to jump first. I’d say we get you some platform to test with before you try launching from the ground itself. Not even every hermit can do that right since you need to hit the sweet spot. Tommy’s pretty good at it though, but he’s got a good teacher.”

Tommy just rolled his eyes when Tubbo and Ren looked over at him. “Grian doesn’t use elytra, he uses his fucking wings.”

“He had to relearn how to fly in season six when he was still hiding his wings.” Ren pointed out and Tommy rolled his eyes again, though the sentence had caught Phil’s attention.

“Why was he hiding his wings?”

“Someone’s in parent mode.” Ren chuckled, which caught Phil slightly off guard. “I’ve heard that same tone plenty of times from X. Usually around the full moon.”

“Wait, so are you-”

“Werewolf, yeah. I know, most people just assume hybrid, and I kinda am. Anyway, to answer your question, he had apparently already gotten used to it in his older worlds. Even hanging around other hybrids didn’t help. He just had them hidden for so long that his standard was no wings. Iskall was the one to really get him with his wings out.”

“Iskall is Mumbo’s sibling, right?”

“Nah, unless we have another case of a surprise family connection. They had a business venture with Grian and Mumbo last season and the three have been really close ever since. They’re not officially related, but at this point they’re essentially all family.”

“I see, well what did he do?”

“They made a shop for hiring them as a hitman since they did that in the past. Someone ordered one on Grian and he got a plan ready and everything, but it involved outflying Iskall.”

“Good to know. I’ll have to meet with them at some point.” Phil nodded and Ren gave a barely noticeable wink at the avian correcting himself.

“Well, I’m sure I've held you guys up enough. If Tommy gives you any more trouble with flying, just shoot me a message.” Ren looked at Tubbo with his second comment, then he waved goodbye and headed off the other way.

Over the course of the next hour and a half, Tommy briefly showed off his tower, but for the most part it was Tubbo learning how to fly with elytra. Tommy was giving out pointers, but mostly was just freaking out whenever Tubbo did something that seemed even slightly concerning. Phil was doing his best to give tips, but wasn’t completely sure how elytra worked seeing as how he was used to just his own wings and hadn’t had access to elytra since they had been damaged.

By the end of the hour, Tubbo was flying pretty well, and Tommy was following nearby. When he had first gotten into the air, it had made Tubbo jolt, but before long, he had gotten acclimated to the firework’s initial sound with no following explosion. Tommy also ended up getting out a third pair of elytra for Philza to try. It wasn’t enchanted like the ones Tubbo wore or the backups on Tommy’s back, but it would do fine for a quick trip to the shopping district.

“Alright, you can explore the place as much as you want as long as you don’t go stealing anything. Otherwise I’ll have to pay for it.”

“You? Telling us not to steal?”

Tommy crossed his arms. “Yeah, no one does that here. I did a bit at the start, but you don’t really fucking need to. Even if you could just pay for shit at the shops, if you really need something, someone’s gonna show up to help you out.”

“Got it.” And with that the three of them flew over the ocean and to the island in the middle of it all. The place was littered with builds that surprised Phil and Tubbo. “These are all just shops?!”

“Yeah. You saw how big Big G’s mansion is. Just about everyone works at that scale. Even if they don’t fucking need to. You get used to it after a bit, it’s why my place is so big. You’d lose your minds if you saw Cub’s place.”

“I don’t even want to know mate.” Phil replied as they landed, sounding slightly exasperated at the thought.

“Right, well that’s my place over there.” Tommy pointed to a shop that looked more like a skyscraper and was near a number of similar buildings. “Most of the land in the actual shopping district is claimed, but Aquwu town still has lots of property.”

“What the fuck did you just say?”

“Aquowo.”

“Stop.”

“Aquwayway.”

“What’s the place actually called?” Tubbo piped up, making Tommy stop the joke.

“Just Aqua Town, but no one pronounces it like that. Even Scar, and he built the place. He normally calls it Aque Town.”

“I’ll be using that.”

“Suit yourself.” Tommy then walked towards his building. “You guys take the diamonds out and I’ll restock the place, okay? You can even keep a few of the diamonds.”

There were some nods of agreement and the trio went inside. Tommy put down his shulker boxes filled with stock as Tubbo opened the first chest, eyes going wide at the amount of diamonds in them. “There’s twenty-seven diamonds in this chest!”

Phil looked up surprised before looking in another chest. “This one too.”

“Well they said the place was all sold out.” Tommy responded as he opened up one of the shulkers and started pulling stacks of cobble out of it.

The avian noticed just what Tommy was grabbing and stared at it. “Mate, are you actually selling cobble for diamonds?”

Tubbo’s head whipped around to look away from the chest where he too saw Tommy pulling out cobble. “Not just cobble. There’s that, normal stone, andesite and granite.”

“And they buy that?”

“Yeah, at first I thought it was out of pity, until one day I got there to stock up and Bdubs was in there and was happy I was there. They all like building, but when they mine, none of the hermits bother to pick up all the stone since they normally fill their inventories with anything else and let the rest disappear. I make sure to go down with plenty of chests and put everything away, so when they need stone and shit, I’m the one they buy from.”

From there, Tommy and the other two stocked the shop. No hermits showed while they stocked, but one did show up just as they were leaving, Tubbo jumping back a little as the two of them nearly ran into each other, the wide eyed look of the hermit adding to the surprise. “Hey Keralis. Just stocked up so you’re good to go.”

“Why spank you Tommy. Who are your friends?”

“Tubbo and my dad Phil.”

“Will they be staying long?”

“Yeah, but Big G’s got them covered with housing.”

“Ah, Brian does have a good place indeed. But if they need a place to stay, I have plenty of room.”

“Almost too much. They’d be like me the first time I saw your place.”

“All the more reason for them to visit!”

“Right, see ya later.” Tommy followed behind Tubbo and Phil who had already slowly gotten ahead. He pulled out his comm and sent a message to Grian and Mumbo about where they were and where they were heading. Mumbo sent a reply that they would be coming over there soon with the bots, and Tommy put his comm away again. “Alright, I have a bit of land on a different part of the island, but it’s not really a shop. It’s more something I sort of brought over from the SMP.”

Tommy led them through the roads before they reached another area near the shore. Sand had terraformed the nearby land and various tables and chairs and other items were all over the place. But right next to the shoreline was a familiar piece of furniture that had Tubbo tearing up just a little. “You built the bench.”

“Yeah. Made it feel more like home sometimes. The rest of it is based on the beach party I held back in exile.”

Tubbo flinched slightly and looked down at the ground. Tommy was slightly confused and looked at Philza, who just gave a slight nod and wandered off. Once he was gone, Tommy led his friend over to the bench. “What’s up Big T?”

“Your… Your beach party. I- I’m sure you had fun.”

“Not really. Didn’t go the way I planned. Especially since you weren’t there.”

“I didn’t think you wanted me there. I never-”

“I sent an invitation, Tubbo. Ghostbur was supposed to give everyone in L’Manberg an invitation. But no one came. I thought it was cause you all fucking hated me. I mean, I did kinda ruin everything. I remember how mad you were.”

“Tommy…”

“I still thought that when I got here. Starting making friends out of spite instead of because I needed them. But then they made me realize some things. I don’t… Ghostbur wasn’t the most reliable, so I thought maybe he just didn’t manage to get the invitations out. But Grian said since Dream was messing with me the whole time I was there, he probably did something. Made sure you didn’t come.”

“Really? He’s been helping out. With you gone he’s become an ally to L’manberg.”

Tommy essentially growled in response to those words. “He’s not a fucking ally to anyone. He plays mind games and fucks everything up. He lies and tries to make you trust him so he can stab you in the back later. He was trying to make it so I’d only trust him. Unless you’re saying he told the truth when you immediately burned your compass for me.”

Tubbo’s hand immediately moved to hold where he had kept his compass, but it stopped midway there. “I… No. I kept it with me all the time.”

“Kept?”

Tubbo started tearing up a little before forcing the tear back. “I sort of got killed by a creeper and the explosion or something destroyed it. Tommy… I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to lose it. I didn’t want to lose you. But-”

Tubbo was cut off from Tommy hugging him. “It’s fine Big T. We lived in a fucked up place, and now we don’t have to. It’ll be you and me again. I’ll build you a tower for yourself. I’ll-”

A loud sound suddenly rang out along with an explosion. A second and third pair of the noises quickly followed. Tommy and Tubbo jumped up from the bench and looked towards the source of the noises to find three withers in the middle of the shopping district.

“What the fuck?! Why are those there?!” Tommy was immediately pulling out his comm and sending a message in the main chat.

Tubbo, on the other hand, squinted as something that seemed to be standing behind the boss monsters. They quickly shot open as he realized what he was seeing. “Technoblade?”

#hermit!tommy au #hermit!tommy #grian #watcher!grian #avian!Grian #grian xelqua #tommyinnit #philza #tubbo #rendog #mumbo jumbo #grumbot #jrumbot #YHS #tw suicide

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writeanapocalae · 4 years ago

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A Guide for Writing Trans People

Written by a Trans Man.

I’ve seen a lot of different posts on how to write trans characters (absolutely none on how to write cis characters and I am so lost on how to do that oh my goodness) but maybe I’ve got a different perspective and maybe I’ve got something you haven’t heard before. Let’s go!

Terminology

There are a lot of different genders out there, not just male and female. Some people think Trans men and women are some outside of the binary extra gender, which is very much not true. While many trans people do fall outside the binary, there are a lot who are strictly male or female. Therefore their genders are male and female. The trans part is not part of the word, it is a definer to state that the person is transitioning, that is all. So when you write trans man or trans woman the words are separate, not transman or transwoman.

A trans man is someone who is transitioning his appearance for society to view him as male.

A trans woman is someone who is transitioning her appearance for society to view her as female.

The reason I am wording it this way is because they were already their genders. They have always been their genders. Transitioning is greatly influenced by the way we are treated by society, the same way that beauty standards influence people to contour and get surgeries and whatnot.

Demi means mostly in terms of gender so a demi boy is someone who is male most of the time and a demi girl is someone who is female most of the time.

Agender is someone who has no gender

Genderfluid is someone who shifts from gender to gender

Genderqueer is someone who’s gender is nondefined by other terms

Two Spirit is a third gender that encapsulates masculinity and femininity (according to Wikipedia) that is only used by Native Americans

Third Gender is a gender that can encapsulate or be a completely different solid gender like male or female

Nonbinary is someone who is somewhere on the spectrum between genders and their gender is defined by them

Pangender is someone who has all genders

Androgyny is not something that actually relates to gender as much as it does presentation. Presentation does not inherently tell you someone’s gender. Being androgynous just means that someone fits right in the middle of societies expectations of male and female and their AGAB cannot be guessed by onlookers.

AGAB AFAB and AMAB mean Assigned Gender At Birth, Assigned Female At Birth, and Assigned Male At Birth. At birth someone will often assign a gender to a baby based on their genitals and parents tend to show off what sort of genitals their baby has with accessories and colors. Pretty creepy if you ask me.

FTM and MTF has been deemed problematic but many still use them. They mean Female to Male and Male to Female. The terminology states that the person’s AGAB is their initial gender and they are becoming the opposite when, as stated before, it’s more that they were always their gender and now society has to catch up.

Gender Nonconformity can be practiced by anyone regardless of gender. It just means that they do things that aren’t expected of someone of their gender like men wearing skirts (for some reason?) or women growing beards or a nonbinary person not being androgynous (for some reason that’s become an expectation)

Intersex is not a part of the trans umbrella, even though it is often lumped in and people who are intersex can also be trans. It is a sex (different from gender) in which different parts of genitals and chromosomes and hormones are produced in a way that deviates from the norm. Many intersex people undergo genital reconstruction or reduction surgery when they are infants (and can’t consent) in order to fit the mold better. Intersex people can be cis.

Cis just means that someone agrees with the people who assigned them a gender when they were a baby and how society treats them.

Slurs: Don’t use them. There are a lot. If you see it in a porn category you probably should stay away from it.

Pronouns

Pronouns are highly personal and can be a myriad of things so I will not be going over all of them. They do not always match presentation (a long haired man with breasts is still a man) and many people will use multiple sets of pronouns or fluctuate between them for what they feel most comfortable with.

Common pronouns are: they/them, he/him, she/her

Less common pronouns are: xi/xir, fae/faer, it/its, e/em, per/pers, ve/vir, zie/hir

Neopronouns: People make up pronouns all the time since they are personal and these new pronouns are just as valid as any others. Someone made up his and hers after all. When making neopronouns the main thing to be aware of is consistency. You want the different forms of conjugation to make sense and you want to spell them the same way every time.

Appearance

As has already been stated, there’s no correlation between gender presentation and gender and many trans people are unable to present the way they want to due to the economy, genetics, health, or community. Still, people do what they can to pass or feel comfortable in their body and these things need to be in mind during descriptions. People tend to think of the slight things that make people not pass are unattractive and will point out a woman’s 5 o’clock shadow or a man’s high pitched voice as flaws. These things do not necessarily need to be skipped over but they can be described in a way that doesn’t distract from the characters gender.

Try to stop thinking of an hourglass shape as an intrinsically feminine trait and height as an inherently masculine one. There are cis women with full beards and cis men with round jaws. Exploring different features, combining them, and seeing how they meld will give your characters more depth and help with differentiating them from one another. A good rule of thumb is, if you mention something that people don’t immediately clock as the characters gender, describe it as gender accurate.

Misgendering

This is another one that I would say don’t do but there are characters who the writers don’t always agree with. Misgendering is extremely harmful, puts trans people’s lives in danger, and can out them without their permission. The narrator should never misgender a character unless the character does not realize they are trans until the story is underway but this should be rare. The trans character would have no reason to ever misgender themself and may talk about how they presented in the past but will, most likely, still refer to themself with the correct gender. The POV character may misgender a trans character upon meeting them but after being corrected should fix their behavior unless you want your audience to dislike the POV character. Friends of the trans character should not misgender the character unless they are in a situation in which being correctly gendered would bring them harm, otherwise they’re not good friends. Family may misgender the trans character if they are not out or if the family members are terrible people.

Dysphoria/Euphoria

Dysphoria is when there’s a painful discrepancy between mind and body, like when someone knows they are one way but they don’t look the way they feel. Misgendering can be a large cause of dysphoria, as can hearing a recording of their voice, reflections, binding and tucking not hiding what the individual may want to hide, height, muscle structure, bone structure, etc.

Euphoria is the exact opposite of this. It is an extreme sensation of peace and joy in personal gender presentation. This can be caused by hormone replacement therapy, correct gendering, presenting in a way that feels natural, and acceptance.

Dysphoria is not necessary for being transgender.

Social Groups

Look around your friend group. Notice anything eerie? Notice how most of your friends are similar to you in a lot of ways, especially IRL friends? They’re people that you trust and expect to keep you safe while having a fun time with because you share interests and experiences with. Same for trans people. This is why, if you look at my friend group there’s 2 genderfluid, 1 agender, 1 nonbinary, 2 trans women, 1 trans man, and 1 cis man (who’s a cousin). If you have just 1 trans character in a group of friends it is going to read as a need for diversity points and that character is less likely to feel safe with discussing trans issues due to no one around them being able to relate.

Outing

This is one that a lot of people have a hard time with and even trans writers mess up a lot. We all know the infamous scene of someone walking in on a trans person changing and, hopefully, we know that this is not only cliche but actually harmful as it tends to lead to the idea of “lying” when it’s really just not anyone’s business and that trans bodies must be on display. I would say that you shouldn’t have to out your character because coming out is dangerous for real trans people in a lot of situations and it normalizes the idea that trans people must doxx themselves at any moment but due to the lack of representation and the nature of novels, you pretty much have to out your characters. No amount of subtext will be as beneficial to a trans reader as cementing the fact that there’s someone they can relate to in canon. Luckily outing a trans character is a lot easier than people think.

Some of us can’t shut up. A lot of trans people will hint at it a lot and just flat out say it if they’re in similar company. If we see people who we feel confident are also queer we often drop hints that we understand we’re safe, they can come to us (especially in a retail setting), because we want a community. The amount I bring up my masculinity is very very often, to the point I’m surprised people aren’t annoyed with me. I don’t pass very well so I wear a lot of brightly colored buttons that explicitly state my pronouns. There’s also this very strong urge to correct people who use gendered language for things that don’t need gender (like sexual organs and menstrual cycles). There’s nothing wrong with just saying that a character is trans.

Resources

The best thing you can do for your story is research. The trans people you know are not google and they do not deserve to be treated like google. You can use google. Here’s some stuff I found on google:

Dummies | Transequality | EverydayFeminism | Scriptlgbt

But no matter how much research you do it’s not going to be as useful as a sensitivity reader. Once your story is complete ask people to read it as beta readers and sensitivity readers and listen to the people that fit your minority characters.

Some musicians to check out for inspiration

I have to recommend music. I wouldn’t be myself if I didn’t.

Agender: Angel Haze | Mood Killer

Androgyne: Florian- Ayala Flora |

Genderneutral: Grimes |

Pandrogyne: Genesis P-orridge

Two Spirit: Tony Enos | Cris Derksen

#writing advice #transgender writing #queer writers #trans writeblr #trans writing

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nightmaresart · 4 years ago

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𝓟𝓪𝓲𝓷 𝓶𝓪𝓴𝓮𝓼 𝓹𝓮𝓸𝓹𝓵𝓮 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓮

That I'd fallen for a lie?

You were never on my side

Fool me once, fool me twice

Are you death or paradise?

Now you'll never see me cry

There's just no time to die

No time to die - Billie Eilish

𝕭𝖆𝖘𝖎𝖈 𝕴𝖓𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

Full Name: Lewis Daniel Gallach

Meaning of Name:

The name Lewis is from English origins and its often said that it means "Warrior" or "Gift from God"

The name Daniel is from Hebrew origins and means "God is my judge"

Nickname: Lewy, Daniel, Ghost

Reason of Nickname:

Lewy: Lewy is the nickname that his mother gave to him when he was a young boy and it stuck with him ever since

Daniel: Daniel is a lesser known nickname for Lewis that his mother only used when she was upset, so he doesn't like it when people call him just Daniel

Ghost: Ghost is the nickname that alot of people at Hogwarts gave the young boy due to his pale complexion and his pale eyes. Its a nickname that is always used in a mocking manner as the people who use it don't know the boy personally

Gender identity: Cis-male

Pronouns: He/Him

Sexuality: Queer

Age: 17, depends on what I write

Birthday: 11-11

Zodiac sign: Scorpio ♏

Place of birth: Sint Andrews, Scotland

Blood status: Pure Blood

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖆𝖌𝖊

Hogwarts house: Ravenclaw

The wand: Willow, Augurey Tail feather core, 11 ⅓ inches

Willow: Willow is an uncommon wand wood with healing power, and I have noted that the ideal owner for a willow wand often has some (usually unwarranted) insecurity, however well they may try and hide it. While many confident customers insist on trying a willow wand (attracted by their handsome appearance and well-founded reputation for enabling advanced, non-verbal magic) my willow wands have consistently selected those of greatest potential, rather than those who feel they have little to learn. It has always been a proverb in my family that he who has furthest to travel will go fastest with willow.

Augurey Tail Feather: Augureys, or Irish phoenixes, were once associated with powerful Dark wands, as their cries were thought to signify an upcoming death. However, they were in reality never a strong Dark core, and were more accurately a powerful core for Divinations. Misunderstood students may find themselves bonded to an augurey wand, although these wands are altogether quite rare.

Patronus: Little Owl

Little Owl - So tiny and yet so observant, these introverted creatures are bound to share this trait with any witch or wizard capable of casting them. Although they don’t mind occasionally rubbing feathers with strangers, they largely prefer marching to the beat of their own drum without the immediate oversight of others. If this is your Patronus, it is likely that you do some of your best work alone and are a firm believer that introverts can go toe to toe with some of the more boisterous members of the animal kingdom.

Magical abilities: Necromancy/Reanimation

Necromancy: The power to utilize magic involving the dead, death-force and/or souls.

Reanimation: Power to reanimate corpses and dead beings.

He can bring creatures and people back, or atleast reanimate their corpses but it takes a toll on his physical health, the older he gets the more powerful and useful this ability of his becomes.

Boggart:

Himself surrounded by dead creatures and people, all clawing at him to bring them back to live

Riddikulus form:

The corpses disapear and it turns into a small ghost dog that jumps around him while barking with a high pitch

Amortentia

What do they smell?

Homemade pies, the comfort of his own room and the cold and open corridors after a storm

What do they smell like?

He smells like old corridors, ink and a crackling campfire with a hint of mint

Mirror of Erised

He sees himself alive and well in the future with his friends still by his side, being able to be himself without getting hurt or having to hide who he is anymore

𝕻𝖍𝖞𝖘𝖎𝖈𝖆𝖑 𝖆𝖕𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖊

Eye Colour: Pale Grey

Hair Colour: Pitch Black

Hair Style: He doesn't have a specific hair style, its mostly just what he wakes up with and rolls with, if he slept at all that is.

Weight: 68 kg or 149 lbs

Height: 1,85 m or 6 ft

Type of Body/Build: Ectomorph, Skinny

Skin Tone: Pale Ivory

Distinguishing Marks: His unsettling pale skin paired with his unsettling white/pale eyes

Face claim: Finlay Macmillan

𝕻𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖔𝖓𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖞

Overall Personality

A reserved and introverted guy who struggles alot with himself. He prefers to stay quiet and just doesn't like to speak when it's not necessary. He seems cold and distant but in reality he is just afraid of what people might think of him. He just doesn't know what to do with both himself and with others.

Briggs myer type: ISTJ

Good traits:

Observant, Gentle, Listener, Creative, Reserved

Bad traits:

Closed off, Wary, Picky, Panicky

𝕬𝖙𝖙𝖎𝖙𝖚𝖉𝖊

Towards people they hate

He doesn't interact with the people he hates at all, he avoids them at all costs and doesn't even spare them a glance when he does walk by them

Towards people they tolerate

Only a simple glance and sometimes even a faint smile with a small wave if they were to wave and smile at the boy first

Towards people they consider friends

He is still a hit wary around his friends and isn't the loudest person you can come across, but he certainly allows them to come close to him and even talks back when they're striking up a conversation with him

𝕽𝖊𝖑𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖕𝖘

Family:

Father: Unknown

Mother: Eliana Gallach

Friends:

Orla Atkinson, Lilith Devereux @hphmbetty , Danny Gibson @catohphm Gallen Stagg @cursebreakerfarrier , Logan Rosseto @demon-twins-and-co

S/o:

TBD

Rivals: TBD

𝕭𝖆𝖈𝖐𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖞

Born to a single mother in Sint Andrews, Scotland, the family was always cast in a bad light due to it not being complete in the old fashioned way. His mother however tried her best to take care of Lewis and worked alot as a result of this, due to this Lewis spend most of his youth alone in the house, reading the old books his mother would bring back and just watching people from his window.

It was pretty difficult for him growing up because his mother told him to stay inside to protect him when she was away, this caused the young boy to gain his pale complexion, barely being outside and in the sun long enough to get a healthy tan.

When he was nine years old he was in the backyard and found a dead mouse, curious about it he picked it up and cradled it in his hands. This managed to bring the mouse back to live which scared the young boy. He screamed and his mother ran outside to see what was going on. From that moment on she made him swear to never pick up a dead animal ever again and he did.

He arrived at Hogwarts at the age of eleven and immediately shut himself out, he wasn't used to soo many people in one place that it made him feel too overwhelmed. This stayed this way until he made his first friend who also happened to be his roommate, Danny Gibson.

This is also when he tries to rediscover his power again and learn more about it without his mother being there to punish him

𝕽𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖔𝖒 𝕱𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖘

Lewis has an incredible difficult time understanding other people and thus has an extremely difficult time making new friends or new contacts

Lewis looks extremely pale due to him barely going outside during the day

Once he befriends people he is still awkward but he is trying his best

He is extremely fascinated by the dead and often goes out of his way to talk with the hogwarts ghosts

He finds it easier to talk to those who are dead than to those who are alive

He is quite fearful of his own powers and while also wanting to learn more about them, he knows it hurts his body and affects his health

He has a sketchbook filled with detailed portraits of those he finds intriguing

If you want your mc to be added to his friends, or rival list, please just send me a message and it will be done!

#harry potter #hphl #hphl mc #hphl oc #hphl moodboard #hphl profile #harry potter hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy #lewis gallach #ravenclaw oc #ravenclaw #second profile!#lets go!

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parvulous-writings · 4 years ago

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Summertime

Stanley Uris x Reader

Request: Requestttt fluff Stanley Uris x Readerrrrr

Submitted by @mk-tozier

Summary: You and Stan go on a date and share some cuddles.

Warnings: None. Maybe just fluff as a warning?

Words: 2.6k

(Not my gif)

The day had been an absolute scorcher. The sun bore down with a blistering heat for the entire time it had been out, morning till evening. There had been no clouds as far as the eye could see.

You had spent the early morning with Stanley, apart from the Loser’s Club for the first time in a very long time. Don’t take it the wrong way, you loved them all dearly, they were the people closest to you besides your own flesh and blood, but sometimes they could wear your patience down rather quickly. Richie with his constant inappropriate jokes, Eddie with his constant worrying, Ben with his pining after Beverly, Beverly being oblivious to Ben’s huge crush and pining over Bill.

The only members that ever seemed to be your saving grace were Mike and Stanley. You were pretty good friends with Mike, you were always there to lend a hand to one another or a kind ear if needed. And Stanley? Well... He was the light of your life, your rock in a hard place, your salvation when you were lost.

Always one of the maturer members of the losers club, it was no wonder that you and the curly haired boy had gravitated towards each other. You spent more and more time with one another, in your own little bubble. Most days Stan would sit with you, apart from the others, teaching you to identify different birds that commonly flew over the skies of Maine, and he had to admit you were quite good at it. So far you could identify the Black-capped chickadee, the Common eider, the Gray catbird, the Blue Jay, as well as the Yellow-rumped warbler. Your progress could be slow at times- there were days when the birds moved too fast for you to see what the patterns on their feathers were, but it was better than no progress at all, at least you showed interest in the activity.

You had really started to spend a lot of time together once school had ended. Stan would take you out bike riding to little secluded spots in the woods, or you’d both go out to the shops together and get a few packets of sweets with your pocket money- despite your parent’s protests. So when Stanley had turned up on your doorstep on that scorching Saturday afternoon, it hadn’t surprised you at all. The curly haired boy gave you a shy smile. “Hey, Y/N...” He greeted, fairly cheerfully for his shy demeanour. “Hey, Stan,” You replied, leaning up against the door-frame of your front door as you spoke. “What brings you here today?” You questioned, quirking a brow playfully at him, which immediately caused his smile to widen quite a bit. He adored all the little facial expressions you did when talking to him, he found them quite adorable. “Well, I know it’s hot out, but I was wondering if you’d want to go to the diner with me, and get a milkshake to share?” He offered, gesturing over his shoulder as he spoke, presumably towards his bike which was leant neatly against it’s stand just off the pavement, barely scraping against the border of your front garden.”As like... A date?”

“Yeah, sure,” You responded with a warm smile and a light shrug. You barely had to even consider his offer before accepting, you could never pass up an opportunity to hang out with Stan, and this newly added romantic element just made you want his company more. “Let me just go grab my bike, I’ll meet you round the side of the house,” You told him gleefully, and with his enthusiastic nod of confirmation, you reluctantly shut the door and dashed through your home. As you retrieved your bike from it’s home in your shed, you began to suppose that perhaps the romantic element of your relationship with Stan wasn’t really a new thing, you’d begun to have feelings for the boy for a fair while, but you initially just dismissed it as being really good friends. Now it was beginning to dawn on you that it was more, a lot more than that. You took your bike out of the side gate, round to meet Stan who was patiently waiting for you to join him on the pavement, so you could cycle two abreast on the road into the town centre. It was a familiar route for the two of you, but that didn’t mean it was any less fun. You mounted your bike, swinging one leg over the frame so that you could sit comfortably. Stan was already ready to go, so you both began to push off from the pavement, braving the bump of the curb to settle into cycling at a comfortable pace down the road.

You built up speed rather quickly, Stan falling behind for a moment. “I’m going to beat you!” You called playfully over your shoulder with a laugh. You heard Stanley scoff from behind you. It wasn’t often you got to see the more childish and playful side of Stan- usually he was busy trying to keep the rest of the Losers sane, safe and alive. One could argue that he did as much as the worrying Eddie, if not more. On the rare occasions you did see that side of Stan though, it was the most adorable thing ever, and you could’ve sworn that those moments alone could’ve made you fall for him almost immediately. “Not if I do this!” Stan called out to you, breaking you from your train of thoughts, and making you look over your shoulder briefly. You caught view of Stan standing up on his pedals and pressing down hard and fast. He was gaining quickly on you, a goofy grin on his face showing off each and every one of his front teeth. The sight made you giggle, and you mirrored him, keeping your pole position for just a little while longer.

However, as you pulled onto the main street of Derry- which was surprisingly devoid of traffic despite it being mid afternoon- Stanley’s height finally gave him the advantage. Or, to be more accurate, his long legs gave him an advantage. He slowly drew ahead of you, poking his tongue out at you and keeping up his childish demeanour, for now at least. You knew it probably wouldn’t be too long till the old Stan would resurface- though it wasn’t exactly like you minded.

Stan skidded to a halt on the side of the road, quickly dismounting his bike and hoiking it up onto the pavement, and patiently waiting for you to join him so you could go strap up your bikes besides one another. You joined him soon enough, and thankfully there was a bike rack nearby, with two spare spaces which your bikes fit in perfectly, as per expectation. Stan held the door of the diner for you, gesturing for you to enter the establishment first- he was so polite.You gave him a warm and toothy smile, accompanied with a gentle nod. “Thank you, Stanley,” You said quietly to him, and he soon joined you inside. “So, what would you like? Chocolate? Vanilla? Strawberry?”He said softly to you as you joined the line. You thought for a moment, considering your options. “How about vanilla?” You suggested, and Stan slowly nodded, “Yeah, sure, of course. I’ll pay.” He told you, and when you opened your mouth to protest, he pressed a finger gently to your lips. “I’m paying.” He insisted. You fell silent and began to slowly nod in reply, there was no use arguing. Sure, you’d probably be able to wear him down eventually to let you pay, but that would spoil the mood of the rest of the afternoon, and you were quite sure neither of you wanted that to happen. So, you lapsed into obedient silence, sticking by Stan’s side as you slowly made your way to the front of the line. When you got there, Stan stepped up without a moment’s hesitation, whilst you stepped off to the side to stay out of the way and help prevent congestion. His voice as he ordered your milkshake to share wasn’t the most confident sounding in Derry, but he himself was not entirely confident, around you he could be at times, but there were other times when your actions made him a squishy and nervous mess. How sweet you could be to him, how kind. He adored it, he adored you, more than he’d ever be able to put into words.

He’d confided in Ben a few times about his feelings, the feelings that you gave him, but he always seemed to struggle finding the right lexis.Who would’ve thought, you could make the well-spoken Stanley Uris trip, fumble and stutter over his words. It was a gift that you didn’t take too lightly of course, though sometimes it was a little fun to tease him and see how flustered he could get. His face would go a rosy shade of pink, and he’d have to stop talking for a minute or two. You’d give him a simple yet sweet kiss on the cheek, and wait patiently for him to come back to planet earth, watching him with the sparkle of adoration in your eyes. Stanley cleared his throat, breaking you from your trance-like daydream. He gestured with his head towards a small and empty booth near the window of the shop, his sandy curls bouncing slightly at the movement. “Over there seems like a pretty good spot to me.” He commented, moving out of the way of other customers as he spoke. You nodded gently, taking his free hand in your own. “Alright, come on then,” You laughed gently, pulling him across the glimmering tile floor towards the booth he had pointed out.

You slid smoothly against the red leather material of the seating as Stan placed the made-for-two milkshake in the centre of the surface that now divided the two of you, where you could both just about reach it. You took the straw closest to you, taking a small sip from the large beverage. Stan took a slightly larger sip, and winced as his hand went to his temple, massaging the skin gently in circles. “Brain freeze?” You asked teasingly, a knowing smile on your lips. The pure tone of your voice made Stan crack a chuckle. “Maybe.” He replied, just as teasingly. “If you think it’s so funny... I dare you to try and drink as much as I just did and not get a brain freeze.” He challenged you, folding his arms one over the other, and leaning on the table, a wide and almost mischievous smile lining his lips. You hummed quietly, considering the offer. “Alright... But if manage to do it... I get a kiss from you,” You bartered with him, and he looked a little taken aback by the proposal. “I, uh, what? Wait, how about if you managed to do it, you...” He trailed off for a moment, “Or, rather we, can go back to your place and cuddle.” He smiled his heavenly sweet smile over in your direction. You barely gave yourself time to consider this offer- a running theme in his oh so sweet suggestions- before you began to nod. “Alright, deal.” You brokered, beginning to grin. This would be easy. Or at least you assumed this would be easy. You were quickly proven wrong however, when you started to try and complete his challenge.

It was after the very first mouthful that you knew you had made a mistake, and understood why Stan had gotten a brain freeze so quickly. Though your small sip a few moments prior had been no trouble at all, a large gulp like this was too much, it was beyond freezing. You tried not to let it show, though, powering through until you were sure you had drunk more than Stanley had done, even if it was only a little bit. Stan was still wearing a very smug look on his face, though. You quirked a brow at him, trying desperately not to wince at the still freezing feeling in the back of your throat. “What?” You asked, rather confused about his expression. “You’re faking it.” “Am not.” You retorted, not even missing a beat. “Are too,” He laughed at your expression, which had now become rather grumpy. “Come on, Y/N, I know you. You’re faking not having a brain freeze, I can tell just by looking at your face.” He gestured you as he smiled widely, holding back another laugh. You leant back in your seat with a sigh, “But if I admit to it... Then I won’t be getting cuddles..” You reasoned, pouting ever so slightly as you spoke. Stan seemed to consider this, before giving you a sweet smile and chuckling softly. He adored that you would try to do such a trivial and silly thing just to spend time with him, and be close to him. “Well, I think that just putting that much effort in deserves at least a five minute cuddle...” At this you gave a mild squeak of glee. “Thank you, Stan!” You laughed happily, and you both then made pretty quick work of the milkshake, before sliding back out of the booth and giddily going to collect your bikes.

The ride to the clubhouse seemed quicker than the one going to the diner, which struck you as a little odd. It should have been at least ten minutes longer, and yet it didn’t seem to even chalk up to your original journey. Not that you were complaining- the faster you got to the underground clubhouse the sooner you could hug Stanley- it was just something you realised as you both laid your bikes to rest against a tree or the bike stand already attached to the pedal-powered vehicle. Stan was the one to open the trapdoor and usher you down there, and although the ladder rungs creaked quietly beneath your weight, you were confident they wouldn’t give out from under you. You had faith in Ben’s handiwork. Stan was swift to follow you, coming up behind you and snaking his arms around your waist, making you squeal quietly. You had more expected for him to wait till you both had settled down in the hammock or another seat, but you didn’t mind this, not at all. You giggled softly as you felt him rest his chin on your shoulder, “You know...” You said quietly to him, a smile creeping over your lips as you spoke, “I think we would be a lot more comfortable in the hammock.” For a moment Stan considered this, before nodding and carefully picking you up by your waist. You let him, shifting slightly so you could wrap your arms around his neck for better support. He placed you carefully in the suspended material of the hammock, before maneuvering his way in after you. After a minute or so of scrambling, it ended up that you were cradling Stan’s head in your lap, wrapping some of his curls around your fingers carefully, his eyes shut in a state of bliss. You smiled warmly at the sight of him so relaxed, it wasn’t often you got to see it. After about half an hour sat like that, no words spoken between you for they were not needed, you decided to speak up. The sun’s rays had begun to wane, and you knew you’d have to go your separate ways for another day soon enough.

"Stan... We’ll need to make a move soon..” You told him, trying your best not to break the tranquil air around the two of you. Stan grumbled, shifting slightly so that his warm and loving hazel eyes could stare back up at your own. “I know... Just... Ten more minutes... Please.”

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frstbiitten · 4 years ago

Text

cw: violence, gore, blood, death

The bathroom was a little further away than expected, she doubted anyone would notice the bloody wound on her back, too bad her black shirt would have a slit in it, she didn't want to get rid of it, at least not now. Feeling the bodies sticking against hers only made her sick to her stomach, it was an overwhelming and invasive feeling at the same time.

She reached the bathroom almost stumbling on her way, the light was white at least, no outlandish colors for now. It was also almost inundated in silence, beyond the music coming from the dance floor, it was a relief to get out of that shapeless mass of humans. There was no one at least insight, all the toilets clean and free of any interference - that is, anyone else-. She opened one of the empty cubicles, almost all of them were empty except for just one, she pulled out enough paper to wet the pieces slightly and clean the wound, it was a very deep one, just noticing its presence caused her even more physical pain, although it was clear that it was healing normally as expected of her. After a few days, only a somewhat lumpy mark would remain.

A girl, no taller than Frost, came out of one of the cubicles, it was to be expected that there might be someone else without her knowing, she was wearing a short tight black dress with loose dark hair, perhaps the whole outfit plus heavy makeup was more expensive than Frost could imagine. Though she didn't leave after washing her hands, she observed Frost for a moment, looking at the papers wet in water and blood at the same time, she was heading for the door until she took a closer look at the wound on her back.

"Do you need help, do you want me to call an ambulance?" Her voice was somewhat soft, from the way she looked Frost could tell easily that she drank a little, but still had a low level of alcohol in her blood.

"No thanks, I'll be fine in a few hours." Frost turned around to get a better look at her, at least a stranger cared about her wellbeing, maybe this little world wasn't full of selfish people.

"Are you sure? Maybe that could get worse."

She heard only a hiss and one of the heels hit the ground very close to her, her movement had been quick but Frost had reacted sooner. She had the girl's right wrist gripped firmly by his icy hand, the knife she carried being just a few inches away from reaching her stomach. A reaction the girl never expected, she would have preferred to catch her more off guard, but Frost's senses had been on alert since Kit had assaulted her.

"I can't let you go alive." The stranger was mumbling, attacking her with her fist from her other hand, it wasn't very efficient as Frost caught her instantly.

"I have to say the same thing, but I'm more stubborn."

The girl's hand holding the knife began to rapidly cool to the point where her fingers were being stuck against each other from the cold, before she began to scream, Frost used the girl's frozen hand and inserted the tip of the knife straight into the jugular. Frost shoved the body into the cubicle behind the girl, some of the blood had run down her face as she threw the body onto the toilet. It wasn't a pleasant sight, as much as she was used to exposed bones and split open heads at this point, a corpse was always unpleasant to look at. "How fucking disgusting, eww!" And she closed the cubicle, sure someone else would find it.

Frost didn't leave the bathroom until she could wash her face from the blood of the last attack, would this night keep this level of violence? She needed to leave. Kit had mentioned that this could happen, if that girl knew about her, then more people there would be looking for her with non-peaceful goals in mind. She had to find Violet before leaving, or maybe get the hell out of here with her. Still had to get through the mass of dancing people, it was a claustrophobic experience when panic mixes with the music and the lack of air. Was anyone else looking for her? From the shadows someone was watching her, watching her face being illuminated for a few seconds thanks to the spotlights.

Found Violet and Kit, both having a drink at the bar as if nothing else had happened before, it seemed that Violet forgave her very quickly. Kit first noticed Frost's presence approaching, she didn't appear too pleased to see her again.

"Hey Frost, don't you want me to call an ambulance?" Kit took a sip of her drink, striking a relaxed pose, elbows, and back leaning against the bar, it gave her a better view of the dance floor.

"What?"

"She deserves an apology from you, too." Violet returned Violet's comment, though she was turning her back to Frost from her seat, turning around almost immediately, something didn't add up in the young woman's expression, especially in her eyes. "Hey Frost... Do you need anything?"

"I have to go."

"So soon? Didn't you want to enjoy the evening first?" Kit seemed to know more than she appeared to, as if she had already foreseen the recent attack in the bathroom. "Or are you afraid of being in the eye of the storm?"

"... What?"

Could barely hear the rest of the world accurately after Kit said that, it was as if everything had quietened down for a few moments. But she could feel herself being watched, uncomfortably watched by more than a single person. Felt the weight of a hand on the back of her neck, it was a grip that sought nothing more than control over her, and suddenly it was her hair being forcibly pulled back. Frost didn't have much time to react and couldn't avoid the blow on the back of her knees, someone was forcing her to slow down and obey under every strike on her body until she ended up on all four of her limbs. Someone was belittling her power.

Frost took advantage of her enemy's position and used her left leg to create a circular motion and throw him to the ground. She had lost sight of Violet and Kit, this guy was her priority and it was an almost minuscule moment that it took her to kill the big guy, plunging the knife she had taken from Kit earlier to insert it into her attacker's chest.

The screams and chaos after the first attack were to be expected. It was all very sudden, had a gun in front of her face and her first instinct was to freeze it before the attacker could pull the trigger, that trick seemed to always work. She ascended from the ground with a blow from her fist directly towards the lower part of the man's jaw -he wasn't as big as the previous one but he did pass her in height-, she couldn't land a second blow, as another man had grabbed her waist from behind and pushed her to the bar, almost crashing into the chairs.

She was confused, but it was obvious that trusting Kit was no longer viable. Felt a hand trying to help her to get up, it was Violet, she hadn't left there like the rest of the other people were doing, like the ones that were left only wanted to watch the fight, or they were the ones coming for Frost.

"Get up... Get up Frost, you have to go, there's like 15 guys here wanting to kill you." Violet let Frost's arm rest on her shoulders, where was Kit? Well right next to them, she didn't know what look to give her back at Frost, but she didn't seem to have any intentions of helping her.

"No... I can't leave.... They're going to follow me anywhere, or they could hurt you if they wanted to." She had mentioned 15 men in total? 17 if you counted the girl in the bathroom and the dead guy on the floor. The DJ wasn't about to leave his place either, as he had changed the music to a much louder one, it helped set the mood, beyond how surreal it was, also some artificial smoke flooded the dance floor, was it to hurt her or benefit her?

She still had the knife in her hand, needed to be smart when using it, maybe they would come one at a time, she doubted they would want to kill her between them all. Took a few steps forward once she was able to compose herself, was already in plain sight amidst a fog and dancing lights.

"Did you guys come for me? Because you're only wasting my time."

Frost didn't have to wait too long to get a reaction from these men, clearly, they were determined to die for a sum of money, she was ignorant of what it would be and who might have put a bounty on her head. It wasn't easy, as some were armed or more experienced, they managed to hit her with their fists or some short weapon, although she also knew how to defend herself. It was also clear that the most desperate ones went for her first, it was easy to unbalance them with kicks, punches, and cuts. She felt the adrenaline rise and fill her skull, as well as her skin became colder and colder, the feeling of vertigo and of letting herself be carried away by anger.

But she didn't make it in time, instead, one of the men took it upon himself to lift her off the ground with her body over his shoulder, as much as she could stab his back - there was something underneath that could be a kevlar vest, which prevented her from reaching his muscles-. The man dropped Frost onto the drink bar, there were glasses and bottles, these became shattered glasses and alcohol scattered all the way to the floor, again the young woman's back was suffering the consequences. Being short was a disadvantage, as the man surpassed her in height by many inches, had leather gloves so he could withstand the cold, and grabbed Frost by her clothes to lift her and turn her around. Like a magic trick, he used the alcohol from the drinks as fuel and with a lighter turned the bar into a new method of torture, finally, he grabbed Frost's hair to slam her face into the surface of the bar, now on fire and with shattering glass.

It was her fury that stopped the man's strength, her hands rested on the edge of the surface in time to push her torso upward, between grunts and struggles, her eyes took on a whitish hue and the glow in them appeared. The fire didn't last long, a layer of ice began to spread from her fingers, extinguishing the fire instantly, she used her foot to deliver a kick in the direction of his knee and knock him off balance, knocking him to the ground but she didn't pay attention to him again, 8 more guys were waiting for their turn.

She grabbed the knife from the ground and wrapped it in ice, turning it into an even more lethal weapon than before. Frost slashed one of them in the stomach fatally enough to leave his guts all over the floor and start screaming, another was pierced through the eye and getting finished with a chunk of ice in the eyesocket as it cooled his skull, and so they kept falling one by one.

"This is... ew..." Violet was both shocked and disgusted, shocked by the scene in front of her eyes and disgusted by the blood spilled and the guts, too many for just one night.

"You should leave, it could get worse." Kit lightly pushed Violet in the direction of the door they had previously entered through, the last thing she wanted was to be involved in the situation, let alone afterward, she was planning on finishing her task however she could. "Besides, look at her, this only proves my point: Frost isn't like you, me or anyone else, sooner or later she could hurt someone innocent, she's not human either, have you ever seen a human do that?" Kit pointed at Frost who seemed to be winning the fight, her eyes perfectly reflected the anger that was driving her to keep fighting, using the ice that gushed from her hands to incapacitate and kill, the scene was getting harder to watch with every blow. "And if she doesn't at least kill us, those around her could die, you saw what happened to Jasper... it's not safe to be around her."

Violet preferred not to connect one event to another, Jasper's death was a mistake at the end of the day, and could do nothing to stop such, Jasper never saw Frost as someone who would hurt those who tried to help her. Jasper would say that Frost seemed more like someone who had lost her way than someone who could be violent for no apparent reason. To this day, Violet didn't know if it was beneficial to help her, nor how to help her. They didn't hear the man who had fought Frost against the bar getting back on his feet, overheard the previous conversation and had no intention of sharing the money, Kit included. With a surprisingly skillful move, he grabbed Kit from behind, wrapping his arm around her neck, making a headlock to leave her immobilized.

"Shit shit shit!" Violet tried to help Kit free herself from the man, only to be pushed away by Kit herself, not wanting to put her in danger, somehow managing to articulate the word 'go away' as she struggled to stop the man from choking her.

From a distance, Frost had noticed that the big guy hadn't fainted as she had assumed, before killing the last man, she performed a quick maneuver, never done it before from such a distance. From her fingertips, ice crystals detached like razor blades, threw them intending to kill the man who was trying to choke Kit. Frost heard the ice shards embedding into the skin and reaching up to the skull and neck, and with a final blow, she shattered the eye of the last opponent, letting him fall to the ground along with the others.

The adrenaline rush had worn off once she managed to relax, the knife slipped from her hand and fell to the ground, again staining the blade with blood as the ice melted. She was exhausted after such a fight, never fought so many people at the same time on the same day. Gasped as she tried to relax her muscles, trying to get back to her normal self.

She started to hear a cry from behind her, Frost turned around to get a better look at what had happened. Violet was on the floor, sitting on her knees and legs, in her lap she had half of Kit's body on her, it looked like she was trying to take something from her. As she got closer she could see in detail what had happened. It was a fatal aiming error on her part, yes she had managed to kill the man who had assaulted them both, but Kit was also affected. 3 of the 5 crystals she had thrown had impacted her body too, one of her eyes was gone and there was nothing but a piece of ice emerging from the eye socket, another embedded in her forehead, and the third -or first- in her throat. The blood wasn't gushing evenly, it was clotting and freezing right away, the face alone was becoming misshapen and taking on a bluish hue.

"I... I'm so sorry Violet..." Her hands were stained with blood, she wished she could reach out to touch her shoulder or take her away, she didn't know which way to act.

"Go away."

"What?"

"Please leave." It was the first time she had ever heard Violet speak that sternly, her eyes full of tears, her voice cracking and even sounding like she was going to attack her at any moment. "...they're coming for you.... you have to go..."

"I'm sorry..."

"PLEASE GO AWAY!"

Didn't have to think about it much, Violet no longer saw her as before, for Frost, she wouldn't know how to solve it in the future, she had to follow her advice to get out of there before the police arrived on the scene. Decided to take the way she had entered, then do her best to get lost in alleys and areas where she could hide for a few hours. Heard the sirens like a clap of thunder, a sound that chased her as she hid, how long was that fight? This was never in her plans, for she doubted she would ever make it home this time.

Finally hidden in the bushes of a building, there was a bridge several yards away, she could hide there too until the time she deemed safe. She heard a rustling behind her, as she turned in the direction of the sound, there was only a shadow standing, someone, but it was a familiar and unfamiliar feeling at the same time.

"Please... leave me alone." She would be cordial for now, but she wouldn't hesitate to use her force again.

Frost heard an almost imperceptible sound, like a tv being unplugged, a power failure, but it wasn't caused by an electric current or any artifact. It was out of nowhere, she felt a prick in her neck, her hand instinctively wanted to remove whatever was pricking her skin. Managed to remove a dart from her neck or so she thought, as she had never seen one, as it looked more like a yellow stain on her hand. Everything became a big dark blob as her body tried to find a way to react, her eyes paled just like her skin as she tried to stand up. The dart fell to the warm grass, looked for a way to support herself using her hands, looked at where the shadow was supposed to be, nothing but a patch darker than the night. Finally, her body decided to give up and Frost fell to the ground.

#novel #((ohh this is a long one))#blood tw #violence tw #gore tw #death tw

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starbornvalkyrie · 4 years ago

Text

what we could be | part two

what we could be masterlist

Breathe.

Brea--

Aelin retched again, unsure whether it was morning sickness or fear. Probably a little bit of both. Lysandra just held her hair and rubbed her back.

After a few minutes of silence, Aelin whispers, “Now, what do I do, Lys?”

“Well, you don’t need to make any decisions right now. I’ll set up the guest room for you so you can sleep off some of this initial shock, yeah? Then tomorrow you and I can figure it out.” Aelin leaned against Lysandra's chest, unable to dull the roaring in her brain. “This time, Aelin, you are not alone. I will be with you every step of the way. Do you want to tell Aedion?”

That brought her to her senses a little bit, and she shook her head. “Not yet. Maybe once the initial shock has passed. One thing I don’t need right now is Aedion turning into a territorial Army bastard and booking the first flight to Wendlyn to beat Rowan to a pulp.”

Lysandra laughed. “Okay, sweetheart. Let’s get you a shower and then I’ll find some food for you to eat. Maybe some soup?”

“Let’s try tomato? I make no promises, though.” Aelin stood up and turned on the shower. Lysandra waited until Aelin was safely inside before leaving to find some tomato soup.

Left alone with her thoughts, Aelin let the water flow through her hair, down her back and face. She didn’t even know where to start, so she allowed herself to stand there and think of nothing. She allowed herself this shower to be numb, if just for a moment, because the fire in her heart was already burning.

Aelin didn’t know how to be a mother. She didn’t know much about pregnancy. Being an only child, she never had to babysit. What vitamins is she supposed to take? What if she has a boy? She didn’t know what was going to happen with her senior thesis now.

She doesn’t know what Rowan will say, and that thought causes the most panic. She focuses on what she does know, instead.

She isn’t religious, but she knows abortion is not an option. She knows what happened to her own parents was unavoidable--a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time--but after Arobynn, she knows she will not subject this child to adoption. She knows that she doesn’t know anything about parenting.

But she’s going to learn.

Even if she had to do it alone.

The fire in her heart burned even brighter with the thought. Growing up, she was always passionate about what she did, from learning the piano to Tae Kwon Do. Her mother called her Fireheart for a reason.

When her parents died, she worried about her fire, her will, going out. But it must have been some innate force that kept it alive. Even when she was scared for her life in foster care, her fire never extinguished. It was the only thing she had to fuel her determination to make it out of there in one piece.

All her life, Aelin’s heart burned only for herself.

But not anymore.

Aelin allowed herself the shower to cry her shock away. Here, standing in the scalding spray, will she be weak and selfish for the last time. When she steps out of the shower, she’s going to sit down and make a plan and move on with her life. Whatever that means from here on out, she will do whatever it takes to make a life for her unborn baby.

Forty-five minutes later, Aelin walks into Lysandra’s kitchen wearing a pair of borrowed sweatpants and a shirt that says “Army” on the chest. She can only assume her cousin left it behind.

A glass of water, a bottle of Gatorade, and a bowl of basil tomato soup with bread on the side were already waiting for her. Lysandra was preparing something for herself at the stove. Before she sat down at the kitchen island, Aelin walked up to her friend and hugged her from behind.

Lysandra fiddled with something in the pan for a minute before turning off the burner and turning around to wrap Aelin in her arms.

Neither woman said anything for a few minutes. Aelin took in a deep breath and pulled away.

She waited until they were both seated at the table before speaking. “I’m going to keep the baby. I don’t know what that means with my relationship with Rowan, whether he wants to be a part of their life and mine. But no matter what, they will not be given up.”

“I support you completely with everything you decide. Do you know how you’re going to tell Rowan? Or when? He isn’t due back here until the end of the semester. I don’t want to push you, but by then, you might be showing already. Everyone will know, which means there’s a good chance he’ll find out from someone who isn’t you.”

Aelin nodded. “I know, I know. I did think about that already. I was thinking of telling him after my first doctor’s appointment? Once it’s confirmed and I have some sort of idea how to move forward medically, I’ll be a little more comfortable with explaining the situation to him.”

“Okay, that’s a great idea. Do you want to call and make an appointment now? The clinic should still be open.”

Aelin agreed and went to grab her phone. She was surprised to see so many notifications, she doesn’t have that many people she talks to on a regular basis. When she unlocked her phone to see who had been calling and texting her, her heart sank. It was already 4:30 in the afternoon, and she was supposed to meet Chaol at 4.

With furrowed brows that caused a look of confusion to appear on Lysandra’s face, she texted Chaol. The last text from him asked, Is everything okay?

She replied, I am so sorry. I felt awful after class today so I ran to a friend’s house. I’ve had my head stuck in the toilet for most of the day since then, I didn’t have my phone on me.

He didn’t take long to type a response. It’s okay, that’s understandable. Do you need me to pick anything up for you?

Aelin groaned at what a sweetheart he was and said, My friend Lysandra is on duty right now and is currently shoving soup down my throat as we speak, but thank you. Let’s take a rain check on that coffee?

I’d love that. Let me know if you need anything, and we’ll definitely talk when you feel better. I’ll do my best to get a copy of the notes in class for you in case you need to take the rest of the week off. Feel better, Aelin!

Aelin put down her phone and dropped her face to her hands. “I feel so terrible,” she said.

Lysandra’s mouth was full, but Aelin understood her when she asked what happened. She explained who Chaol was and how she was going to finally put herself back out there and go on a date. “But now I don’t know how to let him down easy without spilling my guts to him. Should I still reschedule?”

Her friend chewed and thought for a second. “I think you can get coffee with him, but after your appointment and after you tell Rowan. At that point, you should be able to figure out what information to give him. If anything, you can still be his friend.”

Satisfied with that answer, Aelin picked up her phone again to call the clinic. She put it on speaker for Lysandra to hear. A receptionist with a sweet voice named Evangeline asked her for some basic information to book her appointment.

“I do believe we are all set, Ms. Galathynius. I have you down for this Friday at 10AM. Since this is your first appointment for this pregnancy, we ask that you arrive at least thirty minutes in advance to fill out some paperwork and questionnaires. Will anyone be accompanying you?”

Aelin looked to Lysandra who nodded. “Yes, ma’am, a friend will be with me. Her name is Lysandra Ennar.”

“Sounds great, I will make sure she is on your approved list before you get here. We look forward to meeting with you, and congratulations!”

Aelin mumbled a thank you and hung up. Since Lysandra was the only one at this point to know she was pregnant, Aelin had yet to hear the word congratulations in regards to it. Evangeline sounded genuinely happy for her. It touched her a little more than it probably should. It gave her hope.

---

Friday morning came sooner than Aelin expected. The last day and a half were spent making lists and plans and researching. Aelin was really good at making lists and plans and researching.

Aelin was doing just that on her phone in the waiting room with Lysandra when the Medical Assistant called her back. Everyone was lit up with smiles when they saw her, and Aelin had to admit that eased her nerves.

They took her height, weight, and blood pressure, then instructed her to wait on the examination table for the doctor.

She and Lysandra were talking about how to tell Aedion about where they are this morning when there was a knock at the door and a beautiful woman with golden-brown skin and long, brown ringlets for hair walked in.

The woman shook both their hands and introduced herself as Dr. Yrene Towers. “It is a pleasure to meet you Ms. Galathynius, and I’m so excited for you on this journey. We’re going to go over the paperwork you filled out in the waiting room, and I also have a series of questions I have to ask you as well.”

Dr. Towers sat at the computer next to the table and began logging into it. “Let me pull up your chart, and if at any point you have any questions, feel free to interrupt me. Does that sound good?”

Aelin nodded. “Great! So first things first, this says your last period started the 20th of December, putting you at about nine weeks along. This gives you an expected due date of… September 25th! We’ll be able to get a more accurate date when we get an ultrasound.”

Aelin beamed at Lysandra and reached over to hold her hand.

“After today, we will see you every four weeks to monitor the baby’s growth, run blood tests, and talk about your overall well-being.”

The rest of the appointment was great, Aelin warmed up to Dr. Towers immediately. So much so that when she switched to the next subject, Aelin didn’t shy away in the way she thought she might.

“I noticed that you didn't fill out the questions regarding paternity. It’s not completely necessary, but we like to know the health histories on both sides to get a better understanding of what your pregnancy will look like.”

Aelin bit her lip, then said, “I don't know anything about the father’s parents. I, uh, haven't even told him we’re having a baby. I’m not sure how involved he will be, either.” Lysandra squeezed her hand.

“I get it, Ms. Galathynius, and there is absolutely no pressure in regards to that. I’m satisfied knowing you have support in any form.” This time, Aelin squeezed Lysandra’s hand.”

Dr. Towers typed a few more notes on the computer, gave Aelin a few pamphlets regarding food and exercise, then instructed her to schedule her next appointment before leaving.

By the end of the appointment, Aelin was in good spirit, that fire in her heart burning bright.

“If you have any questions or concerns before now and then, feel free to call us at any time. We always have a doctor on call after hours. I’m looking forward to being with you on this journey, Ms. Galathynius.” She extended her hand.

Aelin shook it. Smiled. There was something about the way they interacted that told Aelin the seed of friendship beyond their doctor-patient had been planted. “Please, call me Aelin.”

“Only if you call me Yrene,” she said with a grin.

On the way home, Aelin told Lysandra she would make dinner for her and Aedion the next night so they can tell him together. She’d do it tonight, but she feels obligated to talk to Rowan before anyone else finds out.

She doesn't know how he will react, but her fireheart flickers with hope.

The next morning, Aelin woke up feeling better than she had all week. She felt like no matter what happens, she can take on the world. She was ready.

Before her mind could convince her otherwise, she picked up the phone and dialed the number she knows by heart.

The fire in her heart dimmed when a female voice answered, “Hello?”

tag list:

@maddymelv || @lucy617 || @tillyrubes10 || @faerie-queen-fireheart || @tottenhamboys20 || @the-third-me || @superspiritfestival || @rolltide7 || @courtofjurdan || @sleeping-and-books || @aelinchocolatelover

#rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #rowan x aelin #modern au #throne of glass #sarah j maas #my writing #sfq meg writes

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quirkstm-a · 4 years ago

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A WEEK had passed since he had escaped , and the news still spoke about him . good , as they should ; ankoku thought , humming to himself as he listened to the news person talk over and over again about him . he was glad that everyone seemed to enjoy the show he put on , even more because he was in such a great mood that day .

however , his plans were other , now that he remembers a very valid weakness toshinori now has : much more personal ones , you can say . he remembers the conversation he had with all might back in kamino ward , the mention of a certain young blonde . . . the memory of the conversation brings a smile to his lips , and he gets up from his chair and begins to walk towards the darkness of the hallway ; the shadows know him better than anyone , anyway .

soon enough , he is standing under the lamppost on the street , ‘looking’ up at the apartment in question . hands are behind his back , and he is just there , as if one with the night . not that it’s that hard , anyway ; after all , he is known for having a rather dark humor . it makes it hard in parties to talk to people , you know ? but he must be careful : the patrols doubled the moment he stepped out of tartarus , and with that in mind , he invites himself into the building .

he is quick to reach the door he wants , aware of his surroundings as he is able to break in ( such a good quirk , having a bit of extra strength came in handy in times like these ) without much noise , entering the rather warm home . he can smell food being cooked in the air , and it makes him realize that it’s dinner time already . and while he was hungry , it wasn’t for that type of meal . instead , the knowledge that he could harm all might’s closest people , and him not being able to do anything about it .

his steps echo through the small apartment , and he can hear the hiss of a cat from not too far away from him : how sad , once in a lifetime he had been great with animals , clearly it’s not the case anymore . he hears a woman talk , and he is quick to move to the side in the corner . she is talking to the cat , it seems ; asking her what’s wrong , trying to calm her down . yet the cat keeps on going , maintaining eye contact on his form , he can tell . it’s almost funny , really .

“ what are you hissing at - “ and then she turns , and the man can sense the change within her almost immediately . and he tries to keep it peaceful , walking slowly out of his hiding spot and ready to talk . but no , like everyone else , she must attack ; the shot is heard not only throughout her place , but the whole building ( after all , the front door is still open ) , and ankoku finds himself taking a step back . why ? she shot him , actually managing to do so . that’s surprising . . . sad , but surprising . all for one finds himself pressing a hand against the wound on his shoulder , and as if he could still see he turns his face towards her : and then cracks his neck to the side . the sound of her own breaking can be heard just like how her body falls to the ground , and he is careful enough to not step over her . his respect for all might grows : able to find someone capable enough of injuring him just like he had done years prior . . . he wonders what the little one will be like .

the home is quiet then , or well , would be if he wasn’t slightly mad now . pictures on the walls fall to the wooden floor , as well as other things breaking . it’s a shame , truthfully : they could have fixed things up without need for violence right off the bat . once he reaches the door of the kid’s room , he knocks not once , not twice --- but four times . no answer ? that’s alright , he can walk inside freely , either way .

he is gentle , strangely : is gentle in the way he walks towards the little girl and the way he gets on his knee to be at her height . such a weird contrast to who he is in reality . “ hello , kagome . . . i am a friend of your father’s . “ he starts , and soon enough a sunflower appears in his hand . he can tell the other is scared , so why not make her calm down ? “ therefore , i am your friend , too . “

slowly but surely , she picks up the flower , the small contact of their fingers being enough to activate a certain quirk . and soon enough , she is asleep , the man softly holding her as he rises to his full height and places her head against his shoulder for support . he moves out of there , chuckling too as a certain and accurate step causes him to break the all might toy the girl loved .

maybe next , it would be the real one . . .

#* { DRABBLES } stories in between times .#* { INTERACTIONS } ankoku .#* { INTERACTIONS } sachiko .#* { INTERACTIONS } kagome .#destroying the chaos of the dash in 3....2...1.....#long post //#violence //#gun violence //#gun shots //#gun mention //#deaths //#killing //#kidnapping //

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maverick-werewolf · 4 years ago

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Wulfgard: The Hunt Never Ends - Pre-order Link & Preview

Interior illustration for Wulfgard: The Hunt Never Ends, drawn by Justin RR Stebbins

More promised previews - as well as a preview of an interior illustration of Caiden wrestling with a werebear! You can find a lot more werebear action (and berserker lore for my setting) in the previews below, please be sure to check them out!

For more info on the book itself, you can also check out this post. Also be sure to check out the Hunt Never Ends tag for a whole lot more book previews!

And now in very important news... Wulfgard: The Hunt Never Ends is available for preorder on Amazon.com!

Pre-Order Link

Please note that, while the ebook is now available for preorder, Wulfgard: The Hunt Never Ends will also be available in paperback on October 30 from the same Amazon listing! Paperbacks cannot be preordered using Amazon’s system, however.

Be sure to check back October 30 for the physical (paperback) edition!

In the third section of the book, Caiden and Gwen hunt for a mysterious berserker whom the locals claim is causing trouble... and, for the first time, Caiden truly sees how hard it is to draw the line between man and monster.

If you’re interested in purchasing the book digitally, you can now pre-order it right here and have it immediately on October 30!

(Paperback edition will be available on Amazon on October 30)

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“Thoughts?” she asked.

Caiden threw her a quick look. “We check the forest north of here, the direction he was heading. By now, maybe he’s calmed down some, even if he hasn’t turned back.”

‘Turned back.’ It was insane. Humans weren’t meant to turn into anything else, and neither was any other creature. The curses and magic he’d learned about since joining the Venatori, even not being able to read… He still couldn’t imagine a man turning into something he wasn’t.

No way he could imagine what that actually sounded like, what that drunk had to have heard – or what it looked like, for that matter. What it actually involved. It defied all nature, all sense, or at least any he’d known for his entire life.

They left their horses in town, setting off on foot to track the monster. As Caiden pulled his crossbow from his back and loaded it, Gwen nocked an arrow to her bow and spoke.

“So what do we know about berserkers – we know they bond their souls somehow to some kind of magical skins they wear, and this gives them special powers. Usually they bond with wolves, but they say that’s also the most dangerous, so some of them bond with other animals like bears instead. Because if they take it too far, they can lose control and lose themselves, turning into monsters.”

Caiden nodded. “Do we know for sure if they ever turn back?”

“There were at least two cases where they did that I read in some old accounts, but I don’t know how accurate they were.”

Tracking the berserker was easy, like Caiden figured. The monster had carved a swath of maddened destruction leading away from the city, toward the forest. He’d barreled over saplings, charged through streams, knocking aside underbrush and stones as he drove ever deeper into the wilderness.

Then, the tracks stopped.

There, sitting with his back against a tree trunk, was a man clad in little more than a few tattered clothes and furs that barely kept him decent. Every inch of him was made of tattooed muscle, scars, and some fresh bloodstains. A ragged grey beard covered half his face and reached down to his chest, full of unkempt remains of braids…

But he wore no animal skin.

What he did wear was not physical: a palpable cloak of regret. A pain so deep Caiden almost felt inclined to regret along with him as he drew near, the berserker’s emotions filling the air like a cloud of dreary, remorseful rain.

“I won’t fight,” the berserker said at once, showing empty hands and fingers stained with blood. “Show me mercy – I won’t fight.”

Gwen stood a few feet away, bow at the ready again, watching them. Caiden narrowed his eyes at him.

Slowly, the berserker stood, keeping his hands in plain view. Gwen swore under her breath, just loud enough for Caiden to hear. Even if he couldn’t match up to Caiden’s height, that didn’t make him small.

“I never meant to do what I did,” the berserker said slowly, his deep green eyes flicking between the two of them. “Whatever it was that I did.”

“You don’t remember?” Gwen asked.

“I remember some Imperials gathering around me and throwing insults…”

Caiden could hardly focus on the berserker’s words for the emotions churning in the air. Worry, even fear, and some strange anger that seemed to lurk like a monster waiting to spring. But there was a weariness, too. Something old and tired that yearned for only one thing: peace.

And always that remorse. Like someone who’d taken a life out of necessity, not desire – like a soldier in his legion who’d killed a man in self-defense. He’d felt this regret before, this guilt.

But monsters, supposedly, didn’t have remorse.

Caiden blinked, scowled harder against the sensations, and locked his eyes firmer onto the berserker before him.

“I fought for control, but… I am old. My skin took me years ago. I can fight it, but when pressed, it will always win in the end.”

“Yet,” said Gwen, “you came into an Imperial settlement knowing perfectly well you might lose control and kill innocent people there.”

Caiden glanced at her. Gwen kept her bow trained, ready to loose, a fire and distrust in her tone not quite like any he’d heard from her before. Still the berserker didn’t move, maintaining his calm, despite a sorrow in him that deepened to the point of leaving a lead weight setting heavy in Caiden’s stomach.

“Yes,” the berserker said, quieter now. “I was traveling – tired and hungry, in need of only shelter and nourishment.”

“None of that,” Gwen answered firmly, “excuses what you did.”

The berserker’s voice lifted, defensive, and pride came to grapple with his fear. “I am Gundahar of the Frost Raven clan, once a respected warrior. This is the first time I’ve ever harmed another with this curse – do not accuse me of not being careful. I know what I am and what the beast will do.” Wearing a scowl, he let his hands drop at last. “I only wanted a drink.”

Gwen glanced at him. Caiden glanced back.

And he lowered his crossbow.

“Caiden?” she said, perhaps a little stunned, the grip on her bow tightening in a way Caiden didn’t much like.

“Easy, Gwen,” he said, extending a hand toward her, lowering it, motioning for her to back off. “He doesn’t deserve this.”

She wasn’t having it, and she didn’t lower her bow. “Monsters hide in good men. The Venatori have taught it for eons – once someone is cursed, they can’t be trusted.”

Cursed. There was that word again, one he’d heard so often in this order of monster hunters. It meant so many different things, and every time he heard it, he wondered if there was some dark corner of that word reserved for him.

“Maybe not,” he said, stepping nearer to her and looking her in the eye. “If that turns out to be the case, I’ll shoulder the blame. But I’m asking you to lower your weapon.”

Gundahar neither moved nor spoke. He stood there watching with a dark look of jaded weariness etched across his features. Caiden couldn’t help but feel he’d seen a look disturbingly similar in one of the mirrors in Castle Greywatch.

At length, Gwen nodded. She lowered her bow, straightening herself and taking a deep breath, saying only, “I hope you’re right.”

Caiden nodded back. He returned his attention to Gundahar, but the berserker to speak first.

“I am sorry, truly, for what happened… Though perhaps your Imperial youths could use more lessons in how to stay their tongues. I came here peacefully, did nothing wrong, and they ridiculed me. Insulted me. Accused me of witchcraft and devilry – they didn’t know the holy powers of Odin they slandered with their words…”

His voice drifted. The pride faded away again, dissipating, pushed aside by the resurgence of guilt. Caiden’s near-eternal scowl almost softened around the edges. Almost.

“Tell us what happened,” he prompted.

(Werebear action under the cut!)

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Down in the lamplit streets, a mob surged furiously around their quarry, torches aloft and voices raised. From here, Caiden couldn’t make out much, but he didn’t have to make any guesses to know what was happening.

Turning, he threw his crossbow over his shoulder, grabbed his harness covered in weapons and potions, and pulled it on over only his shirt while he burst through the door to his room and stormed down the stairs. No time for his armor or the rest of his gear.

Not far from the inn doors, where the innkeeper and his daughter stood watching in horror, Caiden found exactly what he’d feared.

In the center of that mob they dragged Gundahar along by a rope around his neck. He struggled, clawing at it, getting to his feet to stand tall around most of the civilians around him. The instant he did, several rushed forward, brandishing cudgels to beat over his arms and legs, trying to force him back down.

Gwen, groggy and confused, appeared at his side with her weapons in hand.

“Dammit,” Caiden growled.

Charging forward, he shouldered his way straight into the mob with Gwen following in the wake he cleared. They parted around him like water against a stone.

He glanced at her and said, “Talk them down or distract them. I’m going after the berserker.”

She nodded.

Each step he took toward Gundahar, the air seemed to grow thicker. Stuffier. Harder to breathe, full of a desperate fear, a wild need to escape. He felt like he walked toward a cornered animal, one tired and scared – but not wanting to hurt anyone.

They reached the center, where Caiden grabbed one shoulder of a man with his club raised over the fallen Gundahar and shoved him aside hard enough to send him staggering away, teetering awkwardly like a drunk. Judging by the smell, he probably was. As was half the mob.

Somewhere behind him, Gwen tried to raise her voice over the din of confusion, anger, and accusations. Telling them to calm down, that this was their job, to go back home…

Caiden barely listened. He’d trust her with that. With the talking. She liked doing it, after all, and he’d be damned if he had words for these idiots. Not with how he felt something in Gundahar that wanted to snap. He couldn’t let that happen.

Kneeling, he put a heavy hand on Gundahar’s shoulder as he half lay in the street, bruised and bleeding. He’d fallen silent. Gone were all the hoarse yells and pleas and him trying to explain. Spent. There weren’t any words left in him, only ragged, sharp breaths and a hard twitch of the muscles in his neck. The instant Caiden touched him, something almost seemed to lash out – something with claws, and something very intent to kill.

Caiden gripped his shoulder anyway, prompting Gundahar to look up at him. He blinked, locking gazes, sending Caiden almost more pain and remorse than he knew what to do with.

“Gundahar,” he said, “breathe. Focus. Get on your feet – I’m taking you out of here.”

“N-no— no, Venator—” he gasped. “Too late— please—”

Whatever else he might have said died on his lips, fell to a look of resignation that passed over his features in a blink. Caiden knew it was over then, even before Gundahar’s jaw set and frigid determination rushed from him, like a gale from the North.

Gundahar surged to his feet, and with one swipe made of inhuman strength, slammed his arm across Caiden’s head powerful enough to send even him sprawling into the street, skull cracking hard against the cobblestones.

Whatever happened next, Caiden didn’t see it. Didn’t much hear it, either, for the ringing in his ears. Screaming, ripping, popping – strange sounds rippling like water swam through his head as if they were ten leagues away and drowned.

This was new. All of it. The wash of cold, biting down deep, right to the bone, and the fury. It was like nothing he’d felt before, a high-pitched scream tearing on around him, and into him, settling like it wished to stay. Wished for him to scream along with it, to give in to the anger. He almost didn’t even realize that screams – even worse, distorted, full of more pain than he and all his experience could even imagine – were also very real, filling the air around him.

And when Caiden scrambled to his feet again, his head pounding from where he’d knocked it against the ground, Gundahar was already gone.

A monster stood in his place.

Caiden stared straight down a wrinkled muzzle, lips already starting to drip strands of white froth. The thing before him looked like the largest bear he’d ever seen. Massive, hulking, covered in brown, grizzled fur and twitching muscles the size of which no man could ever achieve. Yet its shape looked almost human, with arms, and great hands bearing fingers that ended in long, hooked claws.

No recognition stirred in the green eyes like he’d seen on the man wearing this monster’s skin – or the man skin the monster wore. Maybe Gwen had been right.

Because when the bear-monster turned, it opened its wide, toothy maw and lifted a hand-paw the size of Caiden’s entire head, ready to bring it down on the nearest fleeing civilian.

This was their fault – the civilians.

But right now, that wasn’t important. All that mattered was stopping it.

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hiddendreamer67 · 5 years ago

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The Newest Specimen

Summary: Virgil and Logan are monster hunters. One day, Virgil brings in the tiny dramatic vampire he found in his home.

October prompt #24: Blood.

Check out more of my writing at @hiddendreamerwriting!

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Virgil ran into the base, an hour later than normal. He was panting, a box precariously balanced in his arms. The box continued to rattle, its contents clearly displeased with its new enclosure.

“You’re late.” Logan noted.

“And you’re annoying.” Virgil huffed. “Our new friend was not so excited about the idea of going out in the daylight.”

“I’m not your friend.” The box growled.

“Well, I’ll be your friend.” Virgil quipped, still catching his breath as he set the box down onto the table. “Just ignore the fact that I broke your leg. I mean, what are friends for, right?”

“You did what?” Logan whispered, a slightly horrified expression crossing his features at the idea of a specimen being so carelessly injured.

“Relax, he was just being difficult.” Virgil rolled his eyes. “And he’s just being dramatic, it’s not even broken. Drastic measures had to be taken to get Diminutive Dracula into his container.”

“Dramatic?” The vampire within scoffed. “You’re the one acting all ‘oh, you could be more into it you know, be more enthusiastic about being kidnapped.’”

A sort of amused huff came from Logan’s nose at the high pitched mockery.

“It’s not kidnapping, you little twit.” Virgil gave the box a good shake, earning a yelp from within. “You’re the one biting people in the night.”

“I wasn’t about to starve!” There was a tiny tapping noise, as the vampire stomped his bitty boot. “And it only hurts a little. It’s more like, ‘ow’ instead of, ‘Holy fuck, I’ve been stabbed.’”

“Is this true?” Logan looked to Virgil for confirmation, wanting to know if the pain tolerance required for such an activity was indeed lessened with the minuscule stature of this subject.

“How should I know?” Virgil shrugged. “I don’t let him anywhere near me.”

“That’s because I’ll fight you.” The vampire threatened. “I mean, I’d probably lose, but I’ll fight you.”

“If I were a bit more reckless I might like to see you try.” Virgil crossed his arms, turning to give Logan his full attention as he leaned on the table. “As far as I can tell, none of the residents have been contaminated, but we’ll want to have forensics make a clean sweep.”

“Naturally.” Logan agreed. “When dealing with the undead, it’s important to be sanitary, lest we get a full on infestation. I certainly don’t want another vampire clan popping up in the surrounding urban area.”

“Tell me about it.” Virgil groaned, still sore from their last dispute with a hostile pack of werewolves. “We’ve had enough monsters on our tails.”

“‘Monster’ is cutting it a bit harsh.” Their tiny captive butt in, clearly not liking to be silent long. “I was minding my own business; it’s not as though I chose this life.”

“No, but regardless your existence remains a threat to the human population.” Logan glanced at the box again, then back to his partner. “Is it imperative that we keep him contained, or might I get some initial observations on this newest case?”

“If you want all the blood sucked out of your fingers, be my guest.” Virgil waved towards the box.

“Don’t you dare bring me into the light you galavanting Giants!” The vampiric captive hissed.

“We’re not outside anymore, you moron, you’ll be fine.” Virgil snarled.

“Virgil, he clearly has no way of observing his surroundings.” Logan reasoned, although he was pleased to be able to rule out the supernatural ability to peer through various matters. “Are there any other metaphysical powers I should be aware of, moving forwards?”

“What, besides being a pain in the neck?” Virgil snorted.

“Bite me.”

“That seems counter-intuitive.” Logan frowned. “Isn’t your primary objective to sink your fangs into others?”

“It’s an expression, he’s mocking us- ignore him.” Virgil assured him. “As for powers… looks like your stereotypical vamp, but haven’t been able to test powers for rank. No idea about flight, transformation, mind control, healing salve, super speed- actually now that I say it, that last one might be unlikely.”

“It’s possible that heightened physical abilities such as speed would only put him on a level equal to that of a human, given the deformed stature, so it might be difficult to gauge.” Logan hummed, a hand to his chin. “It would be advantageous if there was an individual that size without supernatural abilities. It’s a shame we have no control group.”

“What do you mean?” Virgil looked suddenly on guard. “Like a normal tiny person?”

“Yes, although I doubt such a creature exists.” Logan admitted. “Although I suppose it’s possible-

Considering we don’t know if this vampire was born of a tiny family, or was a regular miniature being who was bitten by a similarly shortened individual, or if this vampire was a regular vampire who by unforeseen circumstances shrunk…” Logan tapped the side of the box, startling the occupant who had gone strangely silent. “How about it? Are you willing to provide any insight as to your origins?”

“Seems a bit personal.” The vampire snarked. “Not the sort of information I’m going to hand over to a bunch of bloody captors.”

Logan sighed. “A shame.” He spoke, standing back to his full height. “At least with more knowledge we could have gauged your limits more accurately, likely causing less pain in the long run. If we go into this blind some party involved is certain to be harmed, be they vampire or human.”

“...and what would happen to such a control group?” Virgil asked, shifting to hunch a bit more. He wouldn’t meet Logan’s inquisitive eye, instead biting his lip and looking over the box.

Logan paused, immediately suspicious of Virgil’s attitude. “I’m surprised at you, Virgil. If such a subject existed and truly possessed no sort of supernatural ability or deforment that may endanger others, they would be no threat to us. Humane treatment would be required and they could certainly prove to be a formidable ally.”

“Right, right, of course.” Virgil took a deep breath. “So... I might know someone like that.”

#october 2019 #blood #hunter!virgil #hunter!logan #human!virgil #human!logan #vampires #vampire #gt #g/t #giant/tiny

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arsondotpng · 4 years ago

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5e Magic Accessibility Devices

I was inspired by @dnd-homebrew5e to homebrew some accessibility magic items! Any character who would need one starts with it free of charge-- the only price is the player has to RP the disability as accurately as possible (abled people, i dare you to research a disability and play a character who has it! it’s a good exercise in compassion)

if anyone wants more of these, feel free to request them, i’m happy to homebrew these for free :) or check with dnd-homebrew5e to see if they’ve posted theirs! sorry if these are over- or under-powered, they have not yet been playtested.

(for reference, i am disabled and the only two of these that I would have no use for in real life are the bracelet and the glasses)

~~~

ARMORED KNEE / ELBOW BRACES Adventurers who find themselves with knee or elbow problems due to injury, disease, or congenital condition often acquire armored braces to support their weak joint and protect it from harm. These braces are made of toughened leather and cut-resistant fabric, and have a hinge on each side to add stability to the movement of the joint. When worn, they allow the joint to function perfectly, and grant +1 to armor class (does not stack).

BLANKET OF SWEET DREAMS This weighted blanket lends comfort to those who suffer from nightmares. A creature sleeping under this blanket will have only good dreams, and is immune to any nightmares and psychic damage caused by the Dream spell.

BRACELET OF PROTECTION FROM UNCONSCIOUS FALLS While intended for those who suffer from seizures, this silver cuff bracelet is useful to anyone who falls unconscious with any frequency. If the wearer of this bracelet becomes unconscious, they will find themself immediately under the effects of a Feather Fall spell, and if they land prone, a pillow will appear under their head and neck just before their head hits the ground.

DISAPPEARING-REAPPEARING CANE OF BALANCE A charitable artificer with balance problems has recently developed a new type of cane, and is offering one free to whoever asks for one. Simply collect a request form from your local governing power, fill it out with your name and the necessary height of the cane, and in a few days an invisible cane will appear in your hand! Use it as long as you need it, and when you’re done with it, simply snap to dismiss it: whenever you reach out your hand to catch yourself you’ll find the cane back in it, no matter if you dismissed it or where you left it. SURPRISE WEAPON: This cane is usable as a club, and because it is invisible, the first time each encounter that its wielder hits on an attack made with it against a Surprised creature, that creature must make a DC10 Wisdom saving throw or be Surprised for one additional round.

EYEGLASSES OF WRITTEN LANGUAGE COMPREHENSION The blue-tinted lenses of these eyeglasses make reading easier. While wearing these glasses, a creature cannot misread any clearly written text in a language they speak. In addition, the creature can understand the general meaning of text written in any standard language that uses the same script as a language they speak (see Player’s Handbook page 123). This does not give the ability to speak or comprehend speech in these languages. For the purpose of this item, Undercommon is a standard language, and Gnomish and Goblin share a unique script (not Dwarvish script).

POTION OF THOUGHT WRANGLING This potion is easily brewable by an herbalist, requiring only an hour or so of preparation, and any reputable herbalist will provide it free or at-cost to anyone who requests it. When imbibed by those who are stressed, anxious or insecure, it quiets rambling thoughts and makes it easier to believe you are enough. As a result, it grants resistance to psychic damage that targets self-confidence (such as Vicious Mockery) for 24 hours.

POTION OF TRUE FOCUS This potion is easily brewable by an alchemist, requiring only an hour or so of preparation, and any reputable alchemist will provide it free or at-cost to anyone who requests it. A creature who drinks a Potion of True Focus will find distractions much less distracting for the next 24hrs. Since it is intended for those with concentration problems, it has a helpful side effect: once in the next 24hrs, the drinker can reroll one failed concentration check.

#shut up cat #dnd #5e #disability #accessibility #homebrew #5e homebrew #homebrew magic items

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foxyninjabear · 5 years ago

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HermitCraft Headcanons: Creeper Anatomy and Biology (Part 2!)

*slams this post on the table and gives you crazy eyes* I'M BACK WITH MORE

Anyway, rabidness aside, welcome everyone! Some of you might already know, but awhile ago I made a post for creepers and their anatomy (linked here). And today, my fellow peeps, I've decided to build onto my original post with more headcanons! But before we start, I want to say something that I feel is important;

I AM NOT A SCIENTIST.

I'm not qualified in any stretch of the imagination to confirm that these headcanons are 100% accurate. Please keep that in mind when you read this. I'm not a professional at all; I'm literally just a big HermitCraft nerd that will go on Internet splurges to quench my thirst for knowledge xD

Anyway, announcement over! Put on your labcoats and grab those calculators and clipboards, people, cuz we're about to dive into some nerdy friggin science! And feel absolutely free to debate about these or add onto them! I'd love to see people get involved with this kind of thing! :D Also, if you have any questions about these headcanons, or have any ideas for future headcanons to dive into, leave me an ask! :)

___________________________________

They still have the potential to explode

Although they cannot do it voluntary, like their monstrous ancestors, creepers still have the ability to detonate. They still have gunpowder in their bodies, but the amount is much less than what it used to be in hostile creepers (let's say about 10% of what it originally was, to keep it simple). I know there's not exactly any evidence proving that but just trust me, I'm going somewhere with this. Get your hands off of that keyboard! xD

Anyway, lemme tell you what I'm getting at. I bet a lot of you are familiar with what appendicitis is, but for people who don't know, here's the gist; appendicitis is when your appendix (an organ in the human body that's pretty much useless... nobody really knows what it does lol) becomes infected and inflamed, and if not given immediate medical attention, can possibly burst and become life-threatening. So, if there were an organ in a hostile creeper's body that stores gunpowder for self-detonation, that organ could carry onto the non-threatening generations (and possibly become smaller, due to its lack of use). If it were to become infected, inflamed, or receive some sort of trauma, it could possibly ignite all of the gunpowder and cause an explosion powerful enough to kill the creeper it resides in.

They shed their skin

All creatures with scales shed (or molt) their skin and scales periodically. I stated in my last post that creepers most likely have scales (due to their ability to conduct electricity [Like being struck by lightning]; if they had fur or humanlike skin, they'd most likely combust and explode... and nobody wants that to happen to them lol xD), so it would only be logical to have creepers shed their skin every now and then (I also got inspired by this one post by @goopyshell , so check them out! [btw, if you're reading this, I LOVE your Python design. Best snek boi!]). Lizards molt about 2 to 4 times a year, give or take some key factors (such as how much they're growing), but since that's a baseline, we're going to stick with that for simplicity's sake as to how often a full grown creeper would shed their scales. It'd also most likely come off in patches, instead of the whole skin at once, due to creepers having humanoid figures.

They see colors much differently than humans

Since creepers are very reptile like, especially with their scales, it would make sense that they have many other reptilian characteristics, including their vision. In my last post, I mentioned creepers having night vision due to their nocturnal ancestors, but then after I saw this awesome drawing by @bedrock-to-buildheight with how different Hermits see things, I decided to do some digging into how a reptile actually sees the world. Turns out in addition to having night vision, many of those scaly little critters have the ability to see not just the entire visible spectrum of light that a human can see, but also ultraviolet light (a wavelength of light that a human CAN'T see) due to a special type of cone photoreceptor in their eyes (just so you're not confused, a 'cone' is a type of photoreceptor [aka: light detector] in an eye that detects color). As a result, a creeper could (theoretically) be able to see a MUCH wider range of colors than a human can.

They're much shorter than humans

I've seen lots of designs of humanoid creepers (*cough* PYTHON IS A GREMLIN *cough cough*), and quite a few of have them being quite short. So I thought that I'd explore around the Minecraft Wiki a bit to see if there was anything to support that. And wouldn't you know it, there is! According to the game files, creepers are 1.7 blocks tall (or 1.7 meters, since 1 block in the game is equal to 1 cubic meter) compared to a player, who is 1.8 blocks tall.

Now, at first I thought that I was done, but then I realized that it wouldn't exactly make sense for every single human to be the same height, as well as creepers. Cuz if that were the case, how could we have a tall German cyborg or a smol ice queen in HermitCraft fandom lore and headcanons? xD So did two things; 1, I decided to have the creeper/player height be a ratio (in other words, I'll have the average height of creepers be about 95% of the average height of humans, since 1.7 meters [a creeper's height in the game] divided by 1.8 meters [a player's in-game height] would equal that percent. Maths people xD). And 2, I dove back into the depths of the Interbubs and did tons of research on human height, and eventually found the global average for male and female heights. For humans, males average out at about 171 centimeters tall (a little over 5 feet 7 inches), and females 159.5 centimeters (almost 5 feet 3 inches). If we apply our 95% to those numbers, we can get our average creeper heights! And those numbers calculate to have males be about 161.5 centimeters tall (about 5 feet 4 inches), and females at 150.6 centimeters (4 feet 11 inches).

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft headcanon #hermitcraft headcanons #science #python #pythonmc #pythongb #docm77 #doc #creepers #creeper #minecraft

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mobius-prime · 5 years ago

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174. Sonic the Hedgehog #106

Crouching Hedgehog, Hidden Dragon (臣人豪猪臧龍)

Writer: Karl Bollers Pencils: Ron Lim Colors: Josh & Aimee Ray

Yes, there are actually Chinese characters included with the title of this issue. They were a real bitch to actually get copy-and-paste-able text for, since all I had to work off of was a slightly blurry scanned image of the title page, but my girlfriend helped me figure it out. I went ahead and ran the characters through Google Translate, and they came out to "Chén rén háozhū zāng lóng," which, when translated into English, apparently means "porcupine zanglong." Now, I'm well aware that Google Translate is unreliable at the best of times when translating Asian languages into English, but I have a feeling that it was trying to make sense out of nonsense, and that the artists/writers for this issue just kind of… found some cool-looking Chinese characters and slapped them in there to give it a more "exotic" feel. Anyone who can actually read Chinese, please feel free to correct me on this one, because I'm woefully ignorant. But why use Chinese characters in the first place? Well, let's move into the story to find out…

The Freedom Fighters have set out in their airship to Station Square on a diplomatic mission. However, their ship is buffeted by strange winds that nearly blow them off course and cause them to crash. When they land safely, Sally reminds them all to be on their best behavior, and they're met by a news crew to welcome their arrival.

When Sally and the others make their way into the city, they're met not by the mayor, but by the city's new president and his chiefs of staff, with whom they quickly sit down to a meeting. Sally explains her wish for the city to take in the Overlander refugees from Robotropolis, and when the mayor balks when he hears how many people he'd have to make room for - about seventy families - Sonic becomes outraged that he isn't immediately taking them in because it's the right thing to do.

That night, Sonic mopes a bit on the balcony of the hotel, still upset about the president's reaction, as well as concerned that despite Sally finally being a part of the team again, she doesn't seem very pleased about it. He's distracted by his friends calling him to go play at the arcade, but while he leaves, we see a strange snaky figure floating against a backdrop of stars behind him…

In his own office, the president is watching various footage of Sonic defeating the enemies of Station Square in the past - Chaos, Silver Sonic, and Shadow - and begins to wonder to himself if he should make a more permanent ally out of Sonic, despite his brash attitude. He doesn't have long to decide, as chaos suddenly erupts on the streets, flames chasing after fleeing citizens. The president considers calling for Sonic's aid, but true to his nature, Sonic is already there, staring down the source of the commotion - a massive Chinese dragon. Sally and Antoine rush to the president while Tails, Rotor, and Bunnie hurry to Sonic's aid, but they're not quite fast enough to help.

In his office, the president tries to insist to Sally that this is a bad place for refugees as there are now dragons attacking the city, but Sonic walks in, draped in a blanket and flanked by his friends, offering the president a deal - if he runs the dragon out of town and saves the city again, then they'll take in the refugees. The president finds this to be a fair deal, and accepts.

Now, instead of another character file, we find ourselves looking at another map - this time of Station Square itself!

I know that text is obnoxiously small to read, so I'll summarize it myself. Considering that Station Square in the comic is vastly different from its counterpart in the games, a lot of effort was certainly put into explaining exactly how it functions. Apparently, along with its supply of Chaos Emeralds, the city also runs off solar power collected from the top of the mountain it's buried underneath. It's surrounded by complex holographic projectors that simulate a sky and surrounding landscape, with the weather control systems maintaining a consistent 70°F or 21°C and simulating various weather conditions. All it needs to stay self-sufficient is contained within the enormous cavern, including all its farms. We already know the general history of the city, but this page includes the fact that the original founders sought shelter down here while fleeing from a catastrophe on the surface that is supposedly unknown, but is heavily implied to be one of the past Days of Fury, this one occurring five hundred years ago.

However, perhaps most interesting are the various technical statistics given for the city. Of course, they're all given in metrons, but that's no problem for us and our conversion formulas! There's a whopping 13.7 km, or 8.6 miles, from the surface of the city streets to the top of the cavern, which is again much higher than the peak of Mt. Everest. That's an enormous cavern! That is much, much deeper than the deepest known cave on Earth, but it's still somewhat plausible given that our planet's crust goes much deeper than that. And the file doesn't stop at height. Assuming the city is arranged in a vaguely square shape (we're never told or shown otherwise, and frankly that's the easiest way to calculate area, so that's what we're working with), the city's area is around 14,390.4 square km, or 5,625 square miles! That's a good bit bigger than the entire state of Connecticut, and around the same size as the country of Montenegro in Europe, for just one city! If it existed in the real world, it would be the largest city in the world by land area by a long shot. However, we have to assume that not all of it is dense metropolis. I'm going to go ahead and assume that this area measurement includes all the farms and emptier, less populated space that we see surrounding the actual city, meaning that the metropolis is likely more of a third or so that size going by the picture, making the actual city around the size of Atlanta, Georgia, which is the fourth-largest city in the world going by area. That's impressive!

As for the city's population, the file comes right out and tells us the exact number of individuals living there: 23,856,427 people. This kind of makes the president's worries about taking in a few hundred people seem a little silly, as there's surely more than enough room for everyone, as well as enough kind people within to offer help getting everyone settled in, but I digress. If Station Square existed in real life, that would make it the second largest city in the world, barely beating out Delhi, India, but still vastly outstripped by Tokyo, Japan. Now, I'm not an expert on calculating population density, as I know that it's very different depending on whether you're only counting the distinct urban center of the city, or the metropolitan area which includes the surrounding, less-dense areas, but I'm not entirely sure how to calculate such a thing accurately. All I know is that if we calculate the population density straight from our initial area (before I adjusted it), we get a density of 1,658 people per square km, or 4,241 people per square mile. That's a population density similar to that of Melbourne, Australia, and is actually fairly low compared to most real-world big cities. Just as a fun exercise, however, let's say that two-thirds of the city's population lives in the urban center, while the rest lives in the outlying farmland and suburbs. In that case, the city proper would end up with a density of 3,312 people per square kilometer, or 8,474 people per square mile, which, though almost twice as high, is still much less dense than the vast majority of large world cities. This would also give the outlying areas a density of 829 per square km, or 2,721 per square mile, which is comparable to the average density of modern American suburbs. I'm satisfied with these numbers! Unlike the disaster that was the file on the Floating Island, everything about this file actually makes sense and checks out with reality. And in the end, wasn't that what we all really wanted - for our Sonic the Hedgehog comics to be realistic?

Reunification (Part 1)

Writer: Ken Penders Pencils: Dawn Best Colors: Josh Ray

We're finally back to the Green Knuckles saga, and right away we're being thrown a curveball. On the streets of a cold, empty Echidnaopolis, a flash of light disturbs the peace, and reveals a figure materializing inside of it - that of a young echidna woman whom we've never seen before. From her dialogue, it appears she's traveled back in time, and is on the lookout for clues that will let her know exactly when she's arrived. The only other ones within the city are various Dark Legionnaires on patrol, though they and the woman never cross paths and the Legionnaires grow bored of the lack of activity. As they report in to Dimitri, Lien-Da approaches her boss' room to give a report of her own.

Gee, I don't know, Dimitri, what could Knuckles possible be doing? He certainly wouldn't be trying to reverse the effects of the Quantum Beam just as you suggested doing just a few issues ago, would he? Of course, that's exactly what he's doing. The young woman, wandering the streets, actually seems to know that everyone from the city is in another zone currently, but that's about to change, as suddenly strong winds begin to blow her away. She's shocked, and is blown around until the winds cease, at which point she's offered a helping hand.

Remington… kill Knuckles? I can't believe that for a second! Remington's been nothing but a bro ever since we first met him. What's going on here? Who is this girl, and what's the deal with Remington…?

#nala reads archie sonic preboot #archie sonic #archie sonic preboot #sonic the hedgehog #sth 106 #writer: karl bollers #writer: ken penders #pencils: ron lim #pencils: dawn best #colors: joshua d ray #colors: aimee r ray

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mythgenderedloki · 6 years ago

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Thought I’d post a chapter from my fanfiction I’ve been writing to see if you guys like it.

Lost In Translation

After thousands of years of war, peace may finally be possible between the golden kingdom of Asgard and a war-torn Jotunheim. However, with both King Odin and Laufey remaining bitter and stubborn about the never-ending conflict, their two young translators take it upon themselves to try and save their people from the inevitable bloodshed more war would bring. Thor Laufeysward is a runt giant who's reputation as a fierce general has earned a place at Laufey's ear, while Odin's own son, Loki, must use all his wit to try and keep his father's wrath at bay. Forced into appliance by their shared desire for peace, will they be able to work together? Can these opposing translator's find a way to keep their people safe? And will the realms finally give peace a chance?

The skies in Jotunheim were endless. That was Loki’s first thought as he rode through the twisting spires of ice and snow. Each time the Asgardian company summited a peak, he gazed out in awe at the spreading canvas of blue. So pure, so perfect. Loki imagined reaching out and touching the cloudless expanse, wondering if his fingertip would send ripples through the sky. What beauty there was to be found in the home of the giants. His father did not share in his admiration. Instead, Odin loudly voiced his complaints about the bitter climate, the precarious heights, and even the slowness of his steed. After much persuasion from Loki, Odin had finally agreed to leave Sleipnir in Asgard. His son had pointed out that bringing the famed war horse to peace talks might not send the right message. Begrudgingly, Odin had accepted this. Still, he remained aloof in the great heights of the mountains as he, Loki and the royal guard descended towards the Jotunn capital.

There was no parade like the ones Loki had come to expect when riding through the streets of Asgard. The was no cheering, no music, no flowers being thrown for their horses to tread on. A handful of Jotunns edged the streets, gazing wearily at the foreigners who had brought them so much suffering in the past. The war had been an ancient one. It had spanned beyond the lifetimes of many of the near immortals that dwelled in the opposing realms. Loki tried his best to avoid the hollow eyes of the children, peering out from behind their mother’s skirts. They were hungry, and it was war that kept bread from their mouths. The raging battles had barely touched the golden city of Asgard, but here its presence was truly felt. Loki uneasily took note of the ruined buildings they passed. Although the realm was new to him, the prince of Asgard could tell which gaping walls had once been homes, temples or schools. Odin continued to mutter under his breath, unaffected by the sight of desolation.

They urged the horses briskly through the crumbling city and towards the palace in its broken heart. Their arrival was similarly unceremonious. One of the nobles of King Laufey’s court had informed them his king was indisposed and led them towards their quarters. The castle was carved from ice. That fact it had not collapsed under the heat of Asgard’s unending volleys of heat was a testament to the power still to be found in Jotunheim. Long corridors with high celling burrowed their way through the frozen ice walls which were glowing faintly with sunlight as a translucent blue light filled them. They reached the towering ice doors of their quarters, carved with the legends of Ymir. These adjacent rooms were modest by the standards of Asgard. An observation Odin made numerously and loudly. Yet, after a long journey, Loki’s only quibble with the room was that it was so close to his father’s. Grateful for its much need privacy, Loki settled and began preparations for the long talks ahead.

In the morning, Loki and his father breakfasted in near silence. They ate in Odin’s room, shielded by Loki’s own magic to ensure no one would hear what they weren’t currently talking about. Silence had become the norm between father and son, and little could be done to change this. Loki had begun to inform Odin of some of the issues agreed to be discussed that day. His father soon cut him off.

“Loki, if I had wanted advise from know-it-all little weasels, I would have brought along one of my many of advisors.” Growled Odin. “Norns know I have enough of them! I am not in the market for another.” “Father, I…” “Learn your place, Loki!” The old king snarled. “I may be your father, but I am your king first.” “Yes f… my king.” Loki answered, trying with little success to contain the bitterness in his voice. “Remind yourself of your place now.” Odin ordered sharply. “What is your role today?” “I am to be your interpreter-” “No, Loki.” Odin glared with his one cold eye. “You are to be my translator. You are to repeat to that brute Laufey what I say word for word. You interpret nothing. Understood?” “Yes, my king.” “Say it.” Barked Odin. “So you don’t forget.” Mustering all the self-control he possessed, Loki calmly stated.

“I am to be your translator.” ……………………………………………………………………………………

“For once your petty hobby has a purpose.”

Thor strode a pace behind his king. They twisted and turned their way down the labyrinth of frigid corridors that led to the room elected to hold the peace talks.

“An… adequate warrior like yourself need not trouble himself with any form of studying, especially the language of a weak race like that of the Aseir. A warrior needs only violence and rage to communicate with the enemy.”

Laufey took brisk long strides, causing his young general to fall behind in a display done to highlight Thor’s inferior height and thus his need to quicken his steps to keep pace. As the smallest amongst his people, Thor was keenly aware of these regular humiliations like this to ensure his constant feeling of inferiority. They rarely worked. Thor hadn’t let his short stature demean his existence. Instead he rose through the ranks of the Jotunn army, never once being defeated in combat. Thor knew himself to be a superior warrior. A fact that put him well above the heads of his countrymen. When they reached the doors to the newly designated ‘Peace Room’, it was Laufey, not Thor, who was out of breath.

“Let us see if all those wasted hours were worth the effort.” Laufey pushed open the door, and the two frost giants stepped in. ……………………………………………………………………………………

Loki did not have to see his father to sense the sneer his face when Laufey entered the room. The Asgardian prince also focused his attention on the pair of giants, particularly on the shorter figure. He recognised the general immediately. Even in Asgard, Laufey’s runt general was regarded with a begrudging respect. Thor, Loki remembered he was called. At first Loki was confused by Thor’s presence. Surely Laufey would not bring his famed general to peace talks, just has Odin had not brought his war horse? Yet, what other purpose could he serve? A bemused smile spread across Loki’s face as he realised this must be Laufey’s own translator. The feared warrior must not have been as idiotic as he appeared.

“Good morning, Odin Child-Killer.” King Laufey said scornfully, informing Loki that these peace talkers would be as hostile as the war they were trying to resolve.

“King Kaufey offers his greetings.” Translated Thor, carefully. Amusing Loki with his choice of words.

“Well tell that oath-breaking swine he must offer more than greetings if he desires peace!” Odin snarled. Loki winced at his harsh words, glancing apprehensively across the table and watching Thor’s blank expression.

“Odin All-father, returns the greeting.” Loki held his breath, waiting for Thor to correct what he had said with an accurate translation. Instead, Thor said nothing. In fact, Loki thought he spotted a slight twitch in that well-guarded countenance, hinting at a smile. Interesting.

Laufey, however was not so composed. “You expect me to listen to the lies dripping off that serpent’s tongue like venom? All the realms know the fork-tongued prince of Asgard is not to be trusted.” Anger flared behind Loki’s eyes. His first instinct was to react to the hostile words and he could feel the hum of magic just beyond his fingertips. Yet, Loki also knew this was exactly what the giant king wanted, what both kings wanted. They maybe preach peace but they craved war. Each king was trying to antagonise the other for an excuse to return to the violence that had become second nature. It would take all of Loki’s wit and skill to prevent further bloodshed. As he gathered the right words to convey the message, Laufey’s general spoke instead.

“My king would prefer that I translated your majesties words, so he could hear the words of the powerful Odin in the voice of his kin.” Loki stared at Thor. That wasn’t a mistranslation. It wasn’t a hedge or rephrasing of Laufey’s words. Thor had taken his king’s words and discarded them like they were nothing more petty scrapes of parchment. This was the highest form of treason Loki could imagine. Thor had stolen Laufey’s voice and was bending it to his own will. The Prince couldn’t understand why.

The talks continued, each king waiting impatiently for their translator to mutter in their own ear. As dull as it may sound, Loki found himself relishing in both the linguistic and political challenge. It took a significant proportion of his wit and knowledge to translate what Laufey was saying in a way that wouldn’t result in retaliation from Odin. However, Loki’s real focus was centred on the opposing translator. Constantly, he strained his ears to pick out what Thor was saying. The more he heard, the more Loki admired Thor’s linguistic gymnastics. Like himself, Thor carefully chose his words to minimise the hostilities being showered down by Odin onto Laufey. More important than this admiration, Loki reminded himself, was to ensure Thor wasn’t bending Odin’s words as he had done with Laufey’s. An unspoken agreement had emerged between the two translators which meant they would overlook the odd rephrasing or hedging of expression which was to the benefit of soothing the peace talks. Nevertheless, if Thor was to lie about Odin’s words, Loki would have no choice but to inform his father. The results of such a betrayal would not be pleasant for either party. Peace would be unthinkable.

The topic of conversation had firmly stayed within the trivial. Nothing any more exciting than the surrender of Asgardian livestock raided by Jotun soldiers and in return, the sanctions on Jotunhiem’s fur industry to be lifted. Loki was relieved by the nature of the talks. It was these small solutions pathed the way for a lasting peace. This was until Laufey lost his patience.

“Ask him, Serpent Prince, when the ‘great’ Odin will remove all of the Asgardian dogs from my realm? The stink of them sours the very air as they leach off my land.” The giant king snarled suddenly, after Odin’s refusal to pay reprimands for the cloak Laufey had soiled in battle.

Loki hesitated. The concept of complete withdrawal would be impossible for months, even after successful peace talks. Odin would never agree. The war would rage once more. “King Laufey enquires about plans for the withdrawal of troops.” Loki murmured, stealing a quick glance to Thor. That had been a selective translation at best. Thor was as expressionless as ever. “Never.” Odin growled. “Too much Asgardian blood has been spilt upon the lands we have taken. The very soil is stained red with the fluids of the fallen. Even the rivers flow with the tears of Asgardian widows. These Jotun cowards must pay for the pain they have caused.”

Loki fought to keep his eyes from rolling. He mused over whether Laufey would call upon his army there and then, or simply vault the table and smack Odin in the face himself. Loki noted how even Thor, who had been so sure and confident, hesitated now. Loki was eager to hear how Thor would spin this one.

“King Odin states he will consider troop withdrawal if all Asgardian prisoners are returned unharmed at the soonest possible date.”

Loki inhaled sharply. That was not what his king had said. Not even close. Thor had lied. Worse than that, he taken Odin’s very voice and replaced it with his own. Loki should say something. He should speak out and put an end to this. That would mean war. How long with this one be? A decade, a century, a millennia? A thousand was a small number compared to countless deaths more war would bring. Loki thought of the wide-eyed children, who had seen everything but peace. His mouth remained closed. Thor’s eyes were on him.

“Ha! So One-Eye can have more of those Asgardian ants scurrying on my lands? I will return one prisoner for every two Asgardian dogs Odin calls to their kennels. I’ll even throw in the wench Brunhild, she’s more trouble to keep than she is worth.” Loki stared.

It had work. Thor treachery to his own king had led to the most progress any discourse between the warring races had reached in centuries. Loki hastily translated this to his father, struggling to keep his voice neutral. Even Odin was shocked, of course, from what he had heard, Laufey seemingly offered this compromise from nowhere. It was then Loki realised the genius of Thor’s lie. Each king believed it was the other who had compromised, and each that it was them who had broke the other’s resolve.

Loki fought his grin through the next hour of talks, out of the peace room and all the way back to his chamber. He flopped backwards on to his bed, smirking at the ceiling. Thor Laufeysward, the great warrior, the terror of Asgard and bringer of misery was, perhaps, the second most skilled negotiator in the nine realms. Loki knew himself to be the first, but if anyone could bring peace to the Jotunheim, they could. Together.

#loki #Thor x Loki #loki odinson #loki fanfic #thor fanfiction #first fanfic

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muggle-writes · 6 years ago

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Stretch Thursday

Prompt: "In front of the protagonist, the grocery store clerk just packed several large glass bottles on top of the eggs. The protagonist hears them crack."

Constraint: write in first person

(I vaguely knew how this was going to end, but everything between the first paragraph and the actual prompted moment, and then most of what came after, surprised me on its way out of my fingers.)

Gods above, could this checkout line move any slower, I wondered. Sure, there were only two people in front of me, but the haughty swaggering lump of a human being in front was questioning everything, in search of a nonexistent bargain:

(readmore should be right here but it's not hey tumblr please build a functional app ever maybe?)

Why didn't you accept this week-out-of-date coupon? Why did that coupon only apply to one package of frog eyes, not four. Are you sure this naga skin rucksack isn't on sale? I'm pretty sure the sign said it was on sale. (the leather shoulder bag in a similar size was on sale.)

The poor clerk - Ashley, their nametag said, a pin on the lanyard instructing people to use She or They pronouns - was the only person on checkout duty in the early afternoon. She seemed flustered, but answered every single question in the same patient, even tone of voice.

I wouldn't be able to do that. Actually, when I worked in retail, I got fired from three different jobs for intimidating customers when they started acting like that. Like just because they cleared out a nest of giant rats on the outskirts of town or prevented a band of goblins from establishing a camp in the caves just across the river, that they're entitled to luxury and hero worship, or at least special privileges, from the rest of us. Thank goodness I finally got a job with the local theater, my talents in projecting illusions finally celebrated for dressing the actors up with "no effort" (on the part of the makeup team, not that I don't stretch my magic as far as it can go and then some every night at rehearsal and for hours at a time eight days straight when our shows are open to the public, to turn the bright-but-plain frocks into resplendent ball gowns and every other bit of nonsense that was asked of me). And that's so much better than when I was viewed with suspicion by peers and teachers alike because apparently creating tiny intangible dragons or silent fireworks and lying about my character are the exact same thing, who knew?

I reeled that train of thought back in. There was no need to be bitter about high school bullies considering I'm now living the (pre)Broadstreet dream, and most of them... Well, even the "successful" ones still work ten hour days at tedious office jobs to keep the heat on and the wards up.

The one thing that bitter spiral was good for was that by the time I forced it out of my head, Ashley was calling "have a nice day, Sir" in the same perfectly-bland tone at Mr Cheapskate as he stalked off, carrying three bags on each arm and leaving his cart half-blocking the checkout lane.

He nearly got blown off his feet as he stepped from the store's heat and calm across the ward line, a generous two feet outside the door, into the frigid wind the meteorologists were calling a sneak peek into the blizzard that should hit this weekend. Good riddance.

I met Ashley's eyes as they tapped the rune to pull the items on the conveyor belt forward. I rolled my eyes sympathetically at her forced smile and dead-exhausted eyes. (Not literally dead! Apparently my brain was stuck in high school again because I could almost hear Mrs Primfoot growling about teens and their inability to describe things accurately. Come on. The zombie revolts in Rhodesia were fifteen years ago, and hyperbole is hilarious. Do people just lose all sense of humor when they turn 30?)

Ashley didn't roll their eyes back, she probably worried about losing her job over disrespecting customers in front of other customers, but their lips twitched and their smile seemed a little less stiff.

"Just these two things?" Ashley asked, with professionally-faked curiosity, picking up a large carton of eggs to scan them. "Eggs and milk to wait out the blizzard?" Eighteen goose eggs was a bit much for waiting out a two day storm, even for a bigger family, but some people liked to overprepare. Gods knew I'd seen weirder purchases when I had to check people out. I'd seen weirder people too. This woman, with her sapphire blue, floor-length dress and gray roots belying her dark brown hair, appeared absolutely normal, even with her curls adding at least two inches in height, making her appear barely shorter than me.

"Those are golden goose eggs," the woman corrected her in a syrupy sweet tone that sent a shiver down my spine. Ashley's eyes widened - probably in recognition because they'd been too professional for anything else, but I wouldn't have blamed her for expressing horror. The only customers worse than the adventurers who thought they were better than everyone else, were the governor's many cousins, who were obscenely rich through none of their own effort and not only thought they were better than everyone else but that we were all too naive to understand that.

"For my sweet niece's fourth birthday," the woman continued as though it were obvious.

I couldn't hold back a snort and immediately faked a coughing fit so she wouldn't turn and lecture me in that same patronizing tone.

Even if a dozen golden eggs wouldn't cost me over a month's wages, the yolks, with the flakes of gold leaf suspended throughout, gave them an awful texture no matter how you prepared the eggs, and they inevitably tasted metallic. No toddler would appreciate that, not even if she was already spoiled so rotten as to only accept the priciest of gifts. Well, if the kid was allowed to smash the eggs raw and then go "panning for gold" she would probably have a blast, but something about this woman's perfectly symmetric makeup, smooth, manicured nails, and shockingly hairless arms told me that she would accept nothing less than the most picture perfect cuisine, which meant she was likely to boil the golden eggs so she could present them, polished to the classic shine.

Regular egg yolks turn chalky and disgusting when you boil them, boiled golden eggs are infinitely worse.

Ashley didn't respond beyond a mild "ah, of course" as they efficiently double-bagged the eggs and set them aside.

The woman made a vague disgruntled noise in the back of her throat, but didn't say anything.

Ashley reached for the next item, the package of six tall carafes that I was now sure were something other than plain milk. Sure enough, when Ashley picked up the package, their hand moved in an arc, as though the carafes weighed less than they expected. The additional height caused the yellow light from the enchanted ceiling to dance across the bottles, drawing my eyes to the anti-theft runes stamped on each one.

Suddenly I recognized them. If I were going to blow an entire paycheck on luxuries, I certainly wouldn't buy the two or three golden eggs I could afford with that amount, but I might splurge on a set of these corruption-identifying bottles. They were supposed to be equally good for home canning, for jams and pickles and the like, and for potions. the not-quite-clear, milky white glass promised to turn sickly green if the contents of each bottle went bad, or if poison was added, intentionally or otherwise, or if the properties of the potion inside changed even if it was still safe to drink.

As Ashley was starting to tuck the bottles into a new bag, the woman cleared her throat. "Dearie, I'm sure those will fit in with the eggs. No need to waste another bag."

Ashley hesitated. "Ma'am, it's Magemart policy to bag fragile items separately and"

"It's fine, it's fine," the woman interrupted. "There's only two items, and I don't need all this extra plastic.

"Of course, Ma'am," Ashley agreed, monotone. They opened the top of the bag of eggs, which had folded itself shut.

As Ashley tucked the bottles into the bag with the eggs, I thought I heard a sharp clink, like glass on glass. Odd, but whatever. maybe one of the bottles is loose in the package. and ran into another.

"This is your total," Ashley said, straightening up and indicating the display. Either the lack of reading the final price was another breach of policy or there was a clause in the policy about not reading numbers with more than four digits aloud. I don't remember exactly, my own job at the Magemart closest to my apartment lasted barely three days, the shortest of any of my retail jobs.

The woman swiped her credit card, and was just tucking it back away into her wallet when one of the carafes exploded with a tinkling crash that seemed to echo for ages. I flinched at the sudden noise, and Ashley jumped back with a yelp, unflappable facade forgotten.

We all looked at the fluorescent green shards for a moment. I couldn't quite believe my eyes - either I'd badly misunderstood how CI bottles were supposed to work or there was something really horrendously wrong with those eggs. Besides just being golden goose eggs I mean. All of the other bottles had dangerous green cracks spreading throughout, and another looked like it might fall apart into thousands of shards like its fellow at the slightest provocation.

Almost before I had processed what I was seeing, the woman had rallied enough to shout in Ashley's face, leaning over the counter. "What the devil did you do?"

Ashley cowered, silent tears building at the corners of her eyes. They still looked stunned, frozen in place.

"Hey!" I shouted, feigning confidence and trying to get in this woman's face to protect a fellow cashier. She ignored me. "You were the one who told them to put everything in one bag!"

That got her attention. It wasn't quite what I meant to say, but I was having trouble figuring out what I meant to say, and that slipped out in the meantime.

"And you want to defend her for what? Selling me defective goods?" the woman demanded, equally happy to yell in my face. At least I'd kind of gotten into this knowingly. "CI bottles don't work like that! Or if this is some new function, then that means these golden goose eggs are poisoned or spoilt and they shouldn't be selling them to me!" she insisted.

"What do you expect her to do?" I asked, meeting her continued shouting with a tone that I would call 'panicked' but that Sierra once called 'dangerously quiet'. "How should she have known? Is she supposed to spend her shift finding any magical item that might interact with other things, and taking it around to set it on every other item it might possibly be bagged with, to make sure there's no unexpected interaction? Should they be doing that instead of checking people out, while they're on the clock?" I tried to make the scenario obviously illogical but I think I rambled too much to get the point across.

The woman only squinted at me for a long moment before putting her nose half an inch from mine and shouting even louder than before, "I! Want! A! Manager!"

I wiped spittle off my face, and she stamped her foot, which seemed to be the impulse needed for the second and third bottles to shatter, with another echoing crash.

Someone in line behind me muttered about a manager, before rushing off. ...Probably. I didn't exactly turn to look, with the woman still glowering in my face. Hopefully they ran off to get a manager who would take this belligerent lady out of my and Ashley's faces.

Fortunately, that's exactly what happened. A manager showed up to talk to the woman right around the time she started making threats, and Ashley and the line of people waiting to check out shuffled over to a new register without glass shards everywhere.

We all kept our positions in line, so it was finally my turn to check out. My heart was still pounding from the confrontation as I handed Ashley the bag of moonstone chips to scan.

They offered me a weak smile. "Illusion magic? Isn't that really hard to learn?" Ashley asked, with a tiny but genuine spark of interest in her eyes.

I nodded before I fully processed the second question, already fumbling for my company credit card. "I work hard at it," I said, stretching the truth a little. I certainly didn't have the usual trouble developing the basics, but I push my limits near-daily at the theater and stumbling out of my comfort zone proves to me that I can do more.

"Will that be all," Ashley asked, but tapped the appropriate button on the register before I could reply, my card already poised over the place to swipe it being answer enough. "Your total is 10.53," she said, the next line in the cashiers' script that I still unfortunately have memorized.

They skipped the part of the script asking me if I wanted a receipt, just grabbed it when it printed and scribbled a quick message on the back of it, before finally presenting it to me, holding it out with the handle of the plastic bag with my moonstone inside. "Here is your receipt Ma'am."

I grabbed both, gently, and before I could pull my hand back to look at the message, she flipped her hand over to grab mine.

"Hey.... Thanks," they murmured, then let go.

I flashed her what was either a reassuring to smile or a pained grimace. Hard to tell from inside my own face. "Cashiers ought to be allowed to yell back at people like that," I said. "I'm glad I could get her attention off you."

Ashley opened their mouth to respond but the person behind me in line cleared his throat, and she turned to him, professionally flat expression back in place.

I flipped the receipt over to read what Ashley had written. It was her phone number and the message

I get off at 5. May I treat you to coffee?

I pulled out my phone to text her a yes, and fumbled putting the basket back into the stack for future customers twice before I paused typing long enough to focus on putting the basket away.

I wasn't really bothered by my klutziness. For once my hot head earned me a hot date instead of a hot mess.

#stretch thursday #well i started this on thursday after work #feedback tentatively accepted #muggle writes #muggle originals #writing from prompts #long post #i've tried to add a readmore but they don't seem to work on mobile #i'm not so certain about the ending but i needed to be done #listen it's 3am and I need to be done proofreading and I'm 95% certain there were more things I wanted to fix and I can't find them #if you think I didn't fullfil the prompt please read the prompt again i made sure to quote it directly #hmm what's the tumblr magic key to skip a post?#press j to skip #?#k and j are up and down in vi but there's no guarantee it's the same here #also that still only helps for people on desktop who presumably have xkit anyway

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