#real copper water bottle

[copperproduct]

How to Clean and Maintain Your Copper Bottle for Safe Drinking

T

In a world increasingly attuned to holistic well-being, the humble copper bottle has emerged as a wellness accessory with both tradition and science on its side. Beyond its aesthetic appeal, a copper bottle is believed to offer numerous health benefits, from aiding digestion to promoting a robust immune system. However, to fully harness these advantages, proper care and maintenance are paramount. This guide is your go-to resource for ensuring that your copper bottle remains a reliable companion on your wellness journey, providing not just refreshment but also the assurance of safe and clean hydration.

From the age-old wisdom of Ayurveda to modern-day scientific studies, copper has been praised for its antimicrobial properties and ability to purify water. As we delve into the intricacies of maintaining your copper bottle, we’ll uncover the delicate balance between tradition and practicality. Whether you’re a seasoned wellness enthusiast or a newcomer to the world of copper hydration, these tips will empower you to keep your bottle pristine, ensuring each sip is not only refreshing but also safe for your well-being.

Cleaning Your Copper Bottle:

Use a Gentle Cleanser:

Mix equal parts of white vinegar and water or use lemon juice and salt to create a paste.

Apply the mixture to the inside and outside of the copper bottle.

Scrub with a Soft Brush or Cloth:

Use a soft brush or cloth to scrub the interior and exterior of the bottle.

Pay extra attention to the areas with tarnish or stains.

Rinse Thoroughly: Rinse the bottle thoroughly with plain water to remove any residue from the cleaning solution.

Dry Completely: Ensure the bottle is completely dry before storing or using it again.

Regular Maintenance:

Avoid Dishwashers: Hand wash your copper bottle as dishwasher detergents can be harsh and may affect the copper’s patina.

Use Mild Soap Sparingly: If you prefer to use soap, use a mild, natural soap sparingly. Rinse thoroughly to remove any soap residue.

Avoid Abrasive Cleaners: Do not use abrasive cleaners or scouring pads as they can scratch and damage the copper surface.

Lemon and Salt Cleaning: Periodically, clean the bottle with a mixture of lemon juice and salt. Apply the mixture, let it sit for a few minutes, and then scrub and rinse.

Check for Tarnish: Monitor your copper bottle for tarnish. Tarnish is a natural process, but if you prefer a shiny appearance, use a mixture of lemon and salt to polish the copper.

Store Properly: Store your copper water bottle in a cool, dry place. Avoid exposure to direct sunlight for prolonged periods.

Tips for Safe Drinking:

Check for Leaks: Regularly check for leaks, especially if your copper bottle has a joint or seam.

Replace Gaskets: If your pure copper bottle has rubber or plastic gaskets, replace them periodically to ensure a tight seal.

Don’t Use with Acidic or Carbonated Beverages: Avoid using your copper bottle with acidic or carbonated beverages, as these can accelerate tarnishing and potentially react with the copper.

Regularly Inspect Interior: Periodically inspect the interior of the bottle for any signs of corrosion or discoloration.

By following these cleaning and maintenance tips, you can keep your copper bottle in good condition, ensuring safe and enjoyable use for years to come.

[manvimetawares]

[writingoddess1125]

how would the old men of the sea react to y/n asking them to join them in the bath tub?

I gotcha Sweety Pop! 🍭

Buy me a Ko-Fi ☕️

Shanks, Mihawk, Buggy x ReaderGN

🫧 Join Me? 🫧

Spicy Themes! + Fluff

Buggy

You lay in the large copper bath with a happy sigh, the sweet smell of lavender bubble bath filling the room as you relaxed heavily. You didn't get much time like this to yourself especially on Buggy's ship. Being the main one to keep the place at some semblance or order.

You sigh and lean back to close your eyes and drifr off. Before you hear your door being roughly busted into-

"(Y/N)! Did you approve for them to paint the sky background light blue for the stage peice I wa- wa.. You're uh-" Buggy stopped at his rant as he saw you in the bubble bath, Calmly blinking up at him as he stopped mid rant.

"Captian? Are you okay?" You calmly ask, seeing how red his face was under his grease paint. He turned away quickly.

"I didn't know you were in the bath! I-I was just coming in for-" you wave off his yelling almost-apology. Knowing this was just what he did when flustered, Sitting up more you smirked at your Captian deciding to tease more.

"Wanna join me?~"

You offer, his eyes locking on you quickly like you had just grown a second head. Nodding rapidly and without even saying anything he was already stripping down to nothing like the clothes were the enemy and flinging them away even using the Chop Chop abilities to strip faster.

You laugh as the man almost swan diving into the water and getting real close with a crooked grin, the makeup already melting off his handsome face and eyes shimmering in mischief. He will defiently not keep this innocent for long-

Shanks

You and your crew had taken a stop on a empty island while sailing for the grand line. Choosing to party here and enjoy a few days of laying low before setting sail in a few days.

You would be taking a midnight dip in a nearby stream- enjoying the nice cool water on your skin as you take the time to wash up.

You heard the sound of rustling from the brush next to the stream and look up quickly- seeing your Captian, Red Haired Shanks stumble through the brush, his cheeks red from the booze as he looked around confused- blushing at the sight of you in the water.

"Ah sorry Sweety didn't mean to stumble on ya!" Shanks said with a chuckle, looking away shyly at catching you in this state.

You giggle at this and sink into the water yo cover yourself, the alcohol still flowing in your own system.

"It's alright Cap just enjoying the water. Well why don't you join me? Its cool in here" You offer, feeling way more bold then normal-

Not catching the giddy smile from Shanks as he sets down the rum bottle and starts to disrobe. Jumping in right after you with a smile as he swims to catch up to you.

"Don't mind if I do (Y/N)!-" He will chime and defienly take the chance to swim close to you. Alcohol defiently playing a part in whatever happened that night.

Mihawk

You where in the main bathhouse of Mihawk's Palace in Kuraigana Island. It was a massive room filled with amazing mineral water- it was quite heavenly in truth.

You floated in the water for a bit, fully frontal on the top of the water in pure relation. Which was cut short when the door opened... Your eyes widened and looked up quickly from your floating full frontal to see Mihawk holding a towel and fresh clothes with wide eyes seeing you like this.

He stared at you in shock at seeing you like this, slowly he started to close the door. As you sank into the water to cover yourself-

"W-Wait! Mihawk do you want to maybe join me?" You stutter out shyly as you stare at him. Blushing at your own boldness for asking such a thing- He paused his own movements, before slowly nodding and stepping into the bathhouse fully. You turned away to be respectful at this so he could undress in peace- however you did see his reflection from the polished walls you were looking at and blushed at what you saw.

Gwad Damn!!

Hearing him get into the water you didn't dare to glance back till you felt something warm appear behind you- Glancing up to see Mihawk standing right before you, His eyes practically glowing as he stood with his chest pressed against you a twinkle of mischief in his eye.

"Embarrassed Darling?"

You will leave that bathtub dirtier then when you arrived.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

I cannot believe that no one bought this elegant little gem of an 1877 2nd Empire townhouse in Minneapolis, MN. It's decorated in grand Baroque style, has 1bd, 2ba, 1,799 sq ft, $989k + $1,029mo. HOA. Maybe it's priced too high? Zillow says it's worth about $935k. The high HOA fee could also be a factor.

Come on, now. NOBODY expects the Baroque Townhouse! Look at the entrance- got some gothic doors, architectural salvage light fixture from a church, and what could be better than a wine rack where you can grab a bottle as soon as you walk thru the door? It also looks like a mini bar. What a way to greet guests.

They really did a lot of work on this place. That's why I think it's priced at almost $1m. The woodwork, alone, is incredible. Look at the delightful dining room that looks like it's under an arbor.

Stone wall with niches. Antique chandelier.

This is a sitting room fit for a queen.

Different areas of the home are done in different styles. The ornate sitting room is Baroque with a massive fireplace and chandeliers.

The custom kitchen has a Frenchy flair and it also has an Aga stove (big bucks) with a mosaic backsplash. Look at the flowers painted on the counters.

You can see the pantry on the left, plus plenty storage in the cabinetry, and another mosaic backsplash behind the sink.

There's a copper ceiling over the dining area. This is an eat-kitchen so you can enjoy it every day. View from the windows looks out toward the city.

Beautiful, cozy den has a door to the garden. Gorgeous wainscoting, wood ceiling, brick wall w/shelves, and stained glass windows.

Your guests get to use this fabulous powder room with an intricately carved sink topped by a marble counter, gold swan faucet, and a cut crystal bowl for a sink.

Down the hall is an Asian-inspired full bath with a carved black marble tub and a huge dragon head faucet.

Look at that thing. Then, right across, behind folding doors, they've got a convenient laundry room.

Check out the pattern of the marble in the shower.

Large bath has a beautifully painted chest-turned-sink, and a private water closet.

The magnificent entrance to the bath is guarded by foo dogs.

The bedroom decor ties in with the theme of the bath.

The doorway to the bath is in the bedroom. The walls look like a teahouse.

The stairs have murals and carved doors. The home has 3 levels and I can't discern what floors the rooms are on, b/c as usual, the real estate photos are completely mixed up.

Impeccably maintained garages.

I wish they would've shown the sunrooms and rooftop terraces. Look at the glass structures on the roof.

That's the Mississippi River going by. The home is actually on a little island called Nicollet Island.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/8-Grove-St-8B-Minneapolis-MN-55401/1913645_zpid/?

[icarusredwings]

okay genuine question.. how do you think vanessa reacted when wade regressed with her for the first time?

Oooh good question! Good boy! Very smart.

So personally I think it was a total accident. She got off work early and came home to her boyfriend with toys out, watching fox and the hound, colouring sheets spread out and him laying on the floor with one of those slap close top sippy water bottles filled with strawberry milk.

"...."

His eyes widden real wide and he just stares at her, swallowing. Obviously very nervous.

She blinks and just goes "...Wade I think you're taking this whole Mommy kink a bit far."

At first he tilts his head and she starts casually putting her stuff away, putting up her stripper shoes and what not where they belong.

"I mean seriously what is all this? How did you know I was even going to be home?"

Again, he doesn't awnser her and just stares, almost terrified. The way shy kids did when meeting new adults.

It's when she finishes that she stands there and goes "... Oh... this isn't... you're not joking."

He just sits there. Almost ashamed. Looking at her as if he expects her to leave him for it. She watches as he slowly starts cleaning up the toys with an obvious whimper, the kind you make when you're about to cry but don't want to embarrass yourself anymore.

It only takes Vanessa a moment to decide that she's seen WAYYY worse things and if her boyfriend wants to watch disney movies and play with horses who the fuck cares?

She sits down and picks up the drawing. "Is.. this me??"

He hesitantly nods as she smirks. "And you put me in a princess dress?" He nods again, smiling.

From there, she babies the hell out of him and absolutely adores whenever she catches him.

It takes a bit for him to be more open about it but the cuddles are excellent. Seeing as back then he was much more mute, its a nice quiet couple of hours. It was her idea to call her mommy by the way. She thinks its funny.

And incase anyone dosn't realize. Wade sees himself as Tod in this movie and of course Vixxie is Vanessa. Later, when he meets worst wolverine (his Logan) hes going to force him to watch it and explain the entire plot. He thinks about Logan as Copper.

I forgot to add that part ealier. <3 @shark-ies

ALSO!! Thank you, EVERYONE, for the 400 followers. That's a lot of people!

[echantedtoon]

Ocean Deep Ch9 Interlude

(Warnings: Mentions of blood and Wounds and the horrible conditions the mers went through.)

@shadyd3ar

@jjamsbangtan

@six-eyed-samurai

"HOLD ON, SUMA!! I'M OK! WAIT, WAIT, WA-"

SPLASH -!!!

You didn't have a chance to finish before you were suddenly gripped around the waist by one extremely emotional mermaid and yanked forward. You remembered some pain from knocking into some of the others before you were suddenly in the giant tub under the water. A second later you were pulled back up by desperate hands as you stuttered and spat out water. 

"SHE'S BLEEDING! SHE'S BLEEDING!!," Suma wailed out as she gripped onto your shoulders still crying. "Aaaaaaahhhahahaaaaa!!"

Makio, Hinatsuru, and the new merman stared at you both tears still streaming down their faces and holding one another..but just staring. Eventually they all looked at one another before Makio broke the silence.

"Exactly w-where is she bleeding from?"

"Her fa-faaaaaace!!"

"Suma, there's no blood on her face."

Suma instantly stopped to stare at them, sniffled, and then turned to your deadpanned face. Her blue eyes widened in shock before she reached out to rub along your not hurt face. "But ... Where'd it go?"

"AH!! You must've mistaken the blood on her for mine!", the merman exclaimed loudly making the three look at him.

Uh oh.

"YOUR BLOOD!?," Hinatsuru asked horrified seeming to just now take notice that her friend had visible injuries and dried blood on his body.

"INDEED! She saved my life with medical kissing!!"

The silence was so full you could hear a pin drop outside of the rain. ..The girls again looked at your horrified face before you facepalmed yourself. Why? Why you? Why did this always happen to you?

"For the last time it's NOT kissing! It's CPR!," you practically shouted from where you stood in the water.

"My apologies!," he shouted again.

"Let's back up real quick."

Again they all looked at one another as you waded through the water and pulled yourself out of the tub and onto the edge. At least you were already wet from the river and rain so it wasn't a big deal. Everyone silently watched as you wrung your dress out and horrifiedly noticed that there was a trail of water and blood across your floor from the merman dragging himself along your house. You'd have to clean that up right away before anyone saw. Your head turned back on them all still staring back on you. But first things first. There was a matter of emergency. They watched you quickly walk to the shelf, and just grab multiple bottles and clothes before coming back and stopping in front of them.

"Alright, Everyone. Bath time!" You dropped the bottles off in front of the tub. They flinched as the bottles thudded along the tiles.

The man blinked. "Bath?"

"Yes. You smell like fish and blood. Plus the rest of you could use a cleaning too!" You pointed directly at the man who looked cross eyed at your finger. "Get him cleaned up so I can take a look at those cuts! I'll be back after I take care of a few things."

Those few things being taking a quick bath in the guest room and mopping up the mess he left behind before anyone saw it. You were swift in your actions. Despite the coldness of the water you quickly bathed before dragging a mop and bucket full of water to the front where to your disgust, it smelt heavily of copper and fish. It was a disgusting scent that almost caused you to vomit. Instead you dunked the mop into the bucket and began scrubbing away the blood and dirty water trail. Following the trail from the front door and down the hall reaching the doorway before opening it and just coming right in. The door opening startled the man on the inside causing him to snap his head over to the door. You paid him no mind just continuing to mop your way into the room following the trail to the bath. Steam hit you as the four of them stared back at you. 

"Are you done?" You took a glance up. The man was looking at you, looking cleaner but not quite there yet. Hinatsuru was rubbing suds through his hair as the other two paid attention to his tail carefully rubbing it down along the strange fins.

"Not quite but we'll be quick," Hinatsuru answered going back to work on the blonde's hair making him close an eye.

"Good. I'll grab you some more dresses to borrow in the meantime. " With a final dunk you paused a moment to look over the four of them as they worked. "....How are you feeling, Sir?"

"IM STILL IN INCREDIBLE PAIN!", He shouted back to you making you blink. "But I'm feeling much better knowing that my wives are alive and well!"

You just...stared. "Oh..Ok. Um. How's your wounds look?"

"They're not at all deep! I'll be healed in approximately a month's time!"

Did he always shout his answers? "Well even if you're sure you're ok, I should still bandage you up. Finish cleaning up and I'll bring you all some clothes and food." F/c eyes looked him over. He stopped bleeding but you could still see the cuts along his forehead and chest and the largest one down his bright tail as Suma and Makio worked soap carefully along his scales. "I-...I-I don't know if I have enough bandages to cover all of those wounds. B-But I'll see what I can do."

"Anything you can do for him is fine." Hinatsuru waved a soapy hand at you. "Don't worry about us. Go do what you need to."

Four pairs of eyes watched you leave taking the mop and bucket of dirty bloody water with you. The door closed behind your retreating form and once again there was silence except for the heavy storm outside. He laid still and silent for his wives, content to let the three continue their tasks. To be perfectly honest it felt pretty nice having them run their hands along him rubbing the...Soap the human called it over him. He wasn't sure what this weird smelling gel stuff was, but it didn't smell too bad. Smelt like sweet flowers as it was worked over his body by the three. For what felt like forever he finally spoke when Hinatsuru went to go rinse his hair of the strange concoction. 

"Is that a danger?" The pink haired mermaid paused in her actions of lowering him back down into the water with a blink. The head of golden suds nodded up towards the door. "The human?"

"Y/n?" Then something happened that completely caught him off guard. Hinatsuru frowned upon him. "Of course not. It's thanks to her that we're even alive."

Brows rose higher up on his face. "Really? Well color me surprised. EXPLAIN PLEASE!"

The loud boisterous voice earned him a round of giggles that made his heart beat up out of his chest and his body long to hold them instead as he was lowered down to be submerged. Mud, soap, and dried blood being washed away from his body surprisingly he felt much better. 

"Remember how we explained how we ended up in that tank?" He nodded. Yes. They had explained most of their life away from him before the human had come back to mop up his blood trail. "Well, she was the one who got us out. She brought us here and fed us, kept us clean, and practically provided everything we asked for or needed. I fear she's becoming very stressed about how difficult it's become for her."

"Is that so? I am not surprised when she insisted on helping me. I am unsure of how true it is, but she informed me that I had stopped breathing!" The three paused. "If that's true then without her medical kissing I surely would've died!! I owe her a handful of gratitude for her heroic deeds!"

"YOU STOPPED WHAT?!" 

There was a loud splash as Makio dropped what was left of his tail in shock staring wide eyed at his smiling face. "BREATHING!! I did say that!"

"Uh. And you didn't think to mention that?!"

"I JUST DID!!"

Makio looked ready to go throttle him out of frustration and might've if Suma didn't just slap a handful of soap on her hair and started humming along happy as can be now that Rengoku was here and a sign of Tengen had been revealed to them all. Makio jumped..but just accepted her fate as their usually crying counterpart continued to run at her back and head.

"I think she'd like that." Fiery eyes looked back up to Hinatsuru's smiling face. "If you thanked her I mean. It'd mean a lot to her...but there's also something that I think we can do for her." She gently rubbed at his head where he floated up on the water.

"Oh?" The way Makio and Suma had stopped to look at him and the tone in which Hinatsuru was using had caught his attention. "And what might that be, sunlights?"

There was a ripple effect of wide almost scheming smiles. "What do you think about Y/n so far?"

Well out of everything he certainly wasn't expecting THAT question. It came out of nowhere actually. One that made him give pause and his smile turn to a line as he blinked. What did he think of the human woman?

A hum escaped his throat as his arms crossed instinctively. ".... She's obviously a very selfless woman which is surprising of a human." He settled on which visibly pleased the other three. "She's clearly also very kind and compassionate by everything you told me and what I've personally witnessed. But I do have to question why you're asking me such a thing."

His answer was the three giving giddy excited smiles at him. To which made his heart once again skip a beat.

"Honey, just hear us out."

[triforce-of-mischief]

@ailesswhumptober day 7: field medicine

Summary:

He had a few options. One, he could drink the potion now and probably have to deal with a half-healed, infected wound. Two, he could clean the wound then drink it, but he didn’t have enough bandages in case it kept bleeding. His hand landed on one of his newest dungeon treasures, a short rod with a red jewel inlaid at one end. …Or, he could burn it closed.

Contents: blood and injury, moderately graphic descriptions of violence, cauterization, trypanophobia

Words: 700

AO3

Please reblog to show your support! Likes do nothing.

Breathe, Link. You can’t heal yourself if you don’t breathe.

His own reminder rang in his head as he held his right arm tight to his chest, careless of the blood staining his green tunic. Link had worn the thing through the Light and Dark Worlds both, and it resembled an oversized rag more every day. He didn’t carry needles and thread in his small bag; he didn’t even know how to sew. Whenever his clothes tore, he would bring them to Uncle-

Link choked on a sob. Uncle wasn’t there, and he knew that he could never bring himself to use a sewing kit in a different way. It would have been so much easier if Link could close his own wound without a second thought, but even the thought of a needle near his skin made him feel like he might pass out. The deep gash running from his wrist to his elbow wasn’t getting stitched, but it sure wasn’t resolving itself either. He was still bleeding a lot, and he was running out of time to find a different solution.

He dumped the contents of his bag on the ground, sifting through what few supplies he had. Two bottles, one full of water and one with a few measly sips of red potion. Link never had enough rupees to get by, especially running all over Hyrule like he was, and he had been testing the effects of potion if he only drank a little at a time. If the cut on his arm was smaller (much smaller), the potion may have been enough but right now…

He had a few options. One, he could drink the potion now and probably have to deal with a half-healed, infected wound. Two, he could clean the wound then drink it, but he didn’t have enough bandages in case it kept bleeding.

His hand landed on one of his newest dungeon treasures, a short rod with a red jewel inlaid at one end.

…Or, he could burn it closed.

He felt sick at the very idea, but it wasn’t a paralyzing fear like stitches were. This was going to suck, this was going to hurt, but somehow Link could make himself do it. He didn’t have any other choice, so he hurried to arrange his supplies before he could overthink it.

He didn’t really need much. The water, the potion, the fire rod, and what few bandages he had. He uncorked the first bottle and carefully poured water over his arm, flinching and hoping that anything nasty washed out before he burned it in.

Oh gods, was he really about to do this?

Overthinking. He couldn’t do that. He concentrated a tiny amount of magic into the fire rod, enough to make it burn with dangerous heat but not send flames shooting at his face. He held it above his arm, hearing the mix of water and sweat and blood sizzle and evaporate.

His left hand was shaking. He was breathing too fast and he needed to do this before he lost his nerves or passed out.

Link pressed the fire rod to his forearm.

It hurt, oh Golden Three and spirits and whoever else was there it hurt so bad. Link tasted salt and copper, the dull sting of a bit tongue nothing next to the searing agony coursing through his arm. He prayed that he had been right in assessing that there were no monsters around because nothing could stop him from screaming. His entire body and mind felt weak as he burned all the way down his arm, then set the fire rod aside and reached for the bandages. He whimpered as the raw flesh protested, wishing desperately for a salve or something to soothe the pain. Belatedly, Link remembered the red potion and clumsily drank it, finally able to take a real breath as his arm felt just a little bit better.

He wouldn’t be surprised if he removed the bandages to find an ugly red scar, stretching across half of his arm as a permanent mark of his own stupidity. He didn’t really care, in this moment. Link was stubborn and resourceful and he wasn’t going to lose, not here, not now.

[anhedoniamayhavelived]

After updating Call Your Mom here’s a little blurb that I wrote up that I also wanted to include, but couldn’t find a good place to add it since the story is in Ponyboys POV

!! Warnings for Attempted Suicide !!

Two-Bit Matthews and Steve Randle found themselves staring at the bathroom floor the day after it happened.

They had driven back to the house after Ponyboy had been found. Darry, his voice trembling behind Sodapop’s uncontrollable sobbing, had muttered that they needed a few things for when Pony woke up—if he woke up.

None of them had been sure for a long time if he even would.

By the time Darry and Sodapop had found him, they were convinced he was already gone. He’d looked so pale, almost lifeless. Two-Bit didn’t think he’d ever forget the sight of Darry and Soda standing in that hospital hallway, still covered in blood. Darry had tears streaming silently down his face, his gaze distant and haunted. Sodapop, on the other hand, was a wreck, completely inconsolable as he clung to his older brother.

The news about what Ponyboy had done hit everyone differently. Johnny had flinched like he’d been struck. Dallas and Steve had flat-out denied it, refusing to believe it—until Darry gave them a look so cold and cutting that it shut them up instantly.

But Two-Bit? He should’ve known.

He’d sat with Ponyboy on the bathroom floor just a week earlier, listening to the kid sob his heart out. He’d known something was wrong—he’d felt it. So why the hell hadn’t he done something? Why had he just… kept his mouth shut?

The house still smelled like iron when they walked inside. The scent hit Two-Bit like a punch to the gut, metallic and sharp, and he was suddenly grateful that it was him and Steve who had come back instead of Johnny—or, God forbid, one of Ponyboy’s brothers.

Steve headed toward the bedroom to grab some sweatshirts while Two-Bit walked into the kitchen to grab the ibuprofen Darry had requested. He was rummaging through the cabinets when he heard Steve’s voice, sharp and horrified, echo from down the hallway.

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

Two-Bit froze, the pill bottle halfway to the bag. He set it down and hurried into the hallway.

“What—” His words died in his throat as he turned the corner and saw the bathroom.

The floor was stained with rust-colored streaks, the dried remnants of blood smeared against the tile. The sink, the tub, and the space between them looked like a battlefield. A discarded towel lay crumpled on the floor, stiff with dried crimson, and the air was thick with the stench of copper.

For a long moment, Two-Bit couldn’t move. He couldn’t even breathe.

Steve had a hand clamped over his mouth, his face pale, his eyes wide with shock. He looked like he might throw up, and after a second, he muttered something under his breath and turned to leave the hallway. Two-Bit didn’t blame him.

But he stayed.

The scene blurred in his vision as he stepped into the bathroom, his boots squeaking faintly against the tiled floor. His chest felt hollow, like the air had been knocked out of him.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thought about how Ponyboy had sat right here—on this floor, by this tub—and made the decision to give up. He could’ve called Two-Bit, but he had chosen not to. He thought this would be better than saying a single word to his friend. Could Two-Bit even call himself a friend knowing that?

Why didn’t I stop this?

Two-Bit grabbed an old sponge from under the sink and began scrubbing. The blood came off in streaks, staining the water a sickly pink as it pooled on the floor. The harder he scrubbed, the more his hands shook, and Steve’s voice—quiet, almost hesitant—came from the doorway.

“Man, you don’t gotta—”

“Don’t.” Two-Bit’s voice was low and sharp, and Steve fell silent.

He didn’t stop scrubbing. Not even when his arms ached, not even when the blood was mostly gone, leaving faint stains on the flat surfaces. The tile looked clean now, sure, but the memory of it—what had happened here—would never really go away.

The bathroom was as spotless as he could make it, but to Two-Bit, it felt tainted. Forever.

And he couldn’t shake the guilt. It clung to him, suffocating and unrelenting, as he stared at the faint, stubborn stains left behind.

The bathroom was clean. But Ponyboy wasn’t.

And neither was he.

[mmkin]

The Siren's Shark (that sharkman can be a real piece of work)

Fans of my Arlong writing, rejoice. New chapter of the Siren's Shark is now up, link on AO3 here.

I didn't expect to have the next chapter up so soon but I'm on a roll and I'm sure my fellow Arlong fans are happy for it. Content/trigger warnings - a touch of smut and a bit of violence

IV

o0o0o0o

The captain’s bed was built to comfortably accommodate an average-sized human, but not one of Arlong’s height. If he stretched out even a bit, his feet hung over the side of the bed. He knew he was going to get rid of this ship soon, but without the tribute money that Arlong Park once collected, their funds were distressingly low. Which left them with the option of stealing a ship – or the funds – for an upgrade unless they met some windfall.

He stirred and looked down at the form he was spooned against. Yolande lay between him and the wall, curled up in his embrace. It certainly was nice having a warm body to wake up next to after a cold night. Most of her head was covered by the blankets that were tucked around them, and he gently ran his fingers across the top of her head, feeling the thick, dark locks and twirling a lock between his fingers. It looked black, but when the light hit it, he saw flashes of dark red and copper.

She stirred and pulled down the blanket a few inches. Mumbling something, she opened her eyes, shifting her gaze around for a couple of moments before settling on his face. He looked down at her with a grin, and saw a flash of fear and confusion on her face before recognition settled in.

“Hello,” she whispered.

“How did you sleep?”

“Surprisingly well.”

"Mmm." His fingers trailed along her forehead and down the side of her face. It'd been the best sleep he had had in… months… even a year or more? Even before the demise of his beloved park. There had been nights when he could not fall asleep without a substantial amount of alcohol. Not that he hadn't drunk a fair amount the night before with his fellow fishmen, but he was certain that the fucking and snuggling had done far more for him than a few bottles of alcohol.

She started to pull herself up, and he took the opportunity to look over the bites he’d placed on her shoulders. The first couple had been lighter, but still left their mark on her. She shivered as he moved his hand to her other shoulder. Though the puncture wounds were deeper, he was relieved to see that there was minimal inflammation.

“Do you like seeing what you did to me?” she asked dryly.

“These are claiming bites.”

“The last one really hurt,” she said quietly.

“It was not my intention to harm you, but yes, it happens as part of the claiming,” he replied lowly. “Does it still hurt?”

She lifted her hand, touching it. “Some.”

“It will heal. In the meantime, if you still feel pain, we now have drugs in the infirmary, thanks to you. Or I can give you more drink.” He ran his fingers down her arm as he re-tucked the blankets around them, letting her remain in a seated position with her back against his chest.

"I don't regret helping the sick members of your crew or finding the best deals in the market. But this still feels so surreal to me. Why did this happen to me?"

Arlong could ask that of many things. Why did he lose his parents? Why did Fisher Tiger die? Why was Arlong Park destroyed? Why end up with a siren who was half-human, when he’d spent pretty much his whole life hating humans and looking down at them?

He'd consistently told himself and his crewmates, and even the young ones in the Fishman District that Heaven made fishmen superior to humans. After all, they were faster and stronger, even out of the water. Fishmen fetched more than humans on the slave market, so even as humans looked down on them, they were still valuable. Just not in a way that benefited the fishman race.

��Who the hell knows, but we’re here now,” he growled as he stared off into space, listening to her breathe as he wrapped his arm around her.

o0o0o0o

Hatchan watched as several fishmen brought potted plants onto the ship. Last night’s delivery of Yolande’s note went without incident, fortunately, but the young woman who answered the door seemed determined to hold her suspicions against fishmen even though Hatchan had never done her any harm. Now that woman’s stepmother was disappearing, sailing off with the fishmen!

He did feel sorry for Lena after hearing her story. She’d lost her mother at a young age, and then her father in her late teens, and her older brother worked abroad for years. Yolande had been a rock for her, helping her navigate the last few years of her teenagehood, a far cry from the evil stepmother one often came across in fairy tales. Regarding Lena’s baby, there was no father in the picture and Hatchan did not pry.

All he could do was accompany Yolande and carry the things she needed. Her personal possessions were relatively modest – the biggest portion of what she was taking to the ship was her plants and other things she needed for her work.

“Hey, careful with that,” Yolande said as a fishman struggled with a crate. “That has glass in it!”

Hatchan rushed to help with the crate, making sure it was situated before he returned to her side, seeing the distant expression on her face. "I'm sorry for any trouble that my friendship caused you," he said gently as he placed a hand on her shoulder. She was being taken from a home she'd known for years and what little family she had because of Arlong. And none of that would have happened if Hatchan hadn't appealed to her for help for his crewmates. He'd already apologized before but felt the need to do so again as he witnessed the upheaval Arlong caused in her life.

Although if a siren really was chosen by the gods or fate, then they’d have made her and Arlong cross paths some other way.

She let out a small sigh before she looked up at him. “I know. And if nothing else, I’m glad to have a friend here on the ship.” She placed her hand on top of his.

If Arlong had attempted to enslave or mistreat Yolande, Hatchan would have stepped in. After what happened with Nami, and standing back while the poor girl suffered, he wasn't going to do that again. He hadn't expected to run into Arlong after his takoyaki ship was destroyed, but perhaps that was another twist of fate. Who knew? He'd learned much in his time with the Straw Hats and was truly happy for the chance to make it up to them and be their friend. Arlong didn't know about all that, of course.

He hoped that one day, he might be able to tell Arlong. But not now. The sharkman still carried a lot of bitterness and pain.

"Has everything been… okay with Arlong?" he asked. He'd noticed his captain get handsy sometimes. Taking hold of Yolande's arm, or her chin, or picking her up. He knew that a siren was supposed to be irresistible to her partner, but none of the partners he heard about in the stories were like Arlong. A prince, farmer, warrior, and artist among others. But certainly not a pirate or villain.

“I think so,” she said with a dry chuckle. “He has… quite a few rough edges, doesn’t he?”

“I guess you could say that.” Oh, all the rough edges. Many of them, Arlong had been carrying around since childhood. Looking for a quick change of subject, he pointed to one of the plants. “What’s that one?” he asked, noticing fruit among the leaves, some green, others taking on a hint of red.

“Tomato. You can do so many things with it and it’s so good for you!” The distant look disappeared from her eyes as she discussed cooking with him.

o0o0o0o

The mess hall was quiet as Yolande knelt by one of her plants, touching the leaves. She’d been thrust into a new environment, but it was nice to have something familiar with her, and she cupped one of the tomatoes in her palm, feeling its cool weight. The windows in the mess hall made a good spot to place most of her plants when the weather was cold. She tried to arrange them in such a way as to take up as little space as possible. Though no one had said it, she knew some of the fishmen bristled at the idea of having a half-human on their ship.

She was determined to do the best she could here, and navigate the turbulent seas of life – literally and figuratively – as she’d done in the past when thrust into unexpected situations. But this was the first time she’d had a mate. Nothing could have prepared her for being claimed by a sharkman. She sighed and looked out the window, seeing the twinkle of a few lights along the interior of the harbor. In the reflection of the window, she saw Arlong slide up behind her, silhouetted against the sole lamp that still burnt in the quiet room.

“It’s getting late. Come to bed,” he said with a purr. She turned to face him, putting her hands on his chest. Like many of his crewmates, he wore a crewneck shirt, albeit one that had been modified for his fin. She couldn’t imagine it was easy shopping for clothes when one had a dorsal fin. Or pectoral fins, or extra arms. Or maybe it’d be easier if they went to Fishman Island. She’d heard of that place quite a few times and had considered visiting there.

The fabric stretched over his broad shoulders, chest, and biceps, offering her an appealing sight of his physique.

“I’m happy to come to bed. But I’ve been doing some thinking in between all the running around I’ve been doing today.”

He let out a short, inquisitive growl.

“There’s no denying the bond between us. On a physical level, you and I are all too aware of it.”

An amorous chuckle was Arlong’s response as his hands slid to her sides, and she shivered at the contact even though she was wearing a thick flannel shirt.

“But there’s supposed to be more, isn’t there?”

“What’s your point?” His hands rubbed her sides, large thumbs trailing along the underside of her breasts. She took a deep breath as she felt the heat rise in her cheeks and elsewhere.

“Aren’t you the person I am supposed to spend the rest of my life with? And vice versa?”

“Which means even more sex,” Arlong purred as he leaned down, breathing hotly against her ear.

“You really have a one-track mind!” she said, unable to bite back a moan as her body responded to the sharkman’s attentions. She tried to pull herself free, but he wrapped an arm around her before she could. “Please, Arlong.”

“Listen to your body,” he urged as he hugged her close, his hand sliding down to her ass, cupping it.

“Will you listen to my mind, too?” she asked firmly. He stilled for a moment.

“After I’m sated with your body.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” he replied heatedly, and she felt his teeth against her ear and just below it. Fuck it, she’d let the heat run the course… and then cooler minds should – no, would – prevail. So she let him paw at her before he dragged her back to his cabin.

o0o0o0o

Arlong glanced over at her as she quickly carded her fingers through her hair before pulling it in a ponytail. Sharing his bed took a bit of getting used to, especially with a too-small bed. Still, it’d been enjoyable to feel that warmth against his – or around him, when he chose to make use of it. And he’d had time to think about putting the practical talents of his siren to use. She might say she was no doctor, but she was better than nothing in the meantime and there was no denying that she knew what she was doing in the infirmary. She could cook a bit. Her plants looked healthy as far as he could tell. She knew some chemistry. He’d protect and treat her well, but it didn’t mean he’d coddle her like some spoiled pet.

However heated he might get, he refused to lose his mind over it. Yes, it’d been overwhelming at first, but now he’d had some time to orient himself to this, and the pull that existed between them. He’d enjoy the sweetness of her, and make good use of that spice.

Glancing back at the table, he looked at the compass. Right now, they were drifting westward, Eventually, they'd hit the Red Line unless they went north. And then what? Going back to the East Blue was out of the question.

Why had he chosen the East Blue? It was the calmest, easiest of the Blues, and he figured it would be a good place to establish himself. And it was almost too easy. For years, they'd terrorized humans into compliance, milking them for tribute every month and using it to enrich themselves. The mild weather and relatively backwoods location made the Conomi Islands an ideal haven for fishmen, on or offshore.

Now it was all gone. Yes, he had most of his nakama, but what future awaited them? He looked at Yolande again as she stood up before coming to the desk, glancing down at the notes. Some of them bore the hand of the former captain of this ship, others bore his distinctive scrawl.

“Where are you headed?” she asked. It was a casual question, and in her position, a reasonable one. Yet he bristled because he did not know the answer. He heard her take a deep breath.

“I ask these questions because I need to know what I am dealing with… or what to expect. Like, this ship is stolen… which makes me wonder if I have to fear reprisal simply by being with you. I think that’s a fair thing for me to be concerned about.”

Arlong stared at her for several long moments before acknowledging her statement with a begrudging nod.

-Protect-

"Remember what I said last night about our bond and how it is more than physical? I'm sure there are things you don't want to talk about, but we do need to get to know one another better. Like… hmm… what's your favorite food?"

He expected a much harder question and almost smiled in relief. "Beef."

“Beef? See, there’s something I can work with. Your turn.”

“My turn for what?”

“Ask me a question.”

He looked up from one of the maps, seeing her bat her eyes at him. He frowned thoughtfully for a moment. “Favorite color?”

“I can never settle on indigo or green. Right now I’m more inclined toward green.”

"Huh." Such a trivial bit of information. But she seemed happy to share it, just as she seemed happy to hear his favorite food. He'd humored previous lovers with a bit of small talk but had the feeling he'd have an easier time remembering what Yolande liked. Green and indigo. Not bad colors.

“Where were you from?”

“The Fishman District.” He glanced up at her. “Heard of it?”

“I’ve heard of Fishman Island. I’m afraid that’s all I know.”

“You have much to learn about fishmen, don’t you?” he asked with a sneer.

“I was raised by humans. I’m an orphan.”

He stared at her for a moment as the sneer faded, and she quickly looked down at the table as if she were ashamed.

“So am I,” Arlong commented. She looked back up at him. “And many of the crew members are orphans, too.”

She stared at him musingly. “I was hoping to find things in common with you, but I didn’t expect that.”

He laughed ruefully at that. “I’m certain we will find other things to share. In the meantime, we’ll be leaving soon.” She looked like she wanted to say something, and he gave her a brief nod.

"I've gotten most of what I need, but I am owed a debt that its owner is reluctant to pay, especially after seeing me help your crew."

“Who owes you?”

"The doctor. He owes me a fair bit of money for the work I produced and claims he can't come up with it right now because he's short on cash, but I don't think he's telling me the truth. He hates that he owes me anything but he still likes to be a pain in the ass about it. I suppose this is his last act of spite towards me for rejecting him," she muttered the last sentence to herself as she looked down at the papers again.

"What?" he growled. She blinked and looked back at him.

“After my husband died, Flen tried to court me. I turned him down. He’s never quite gotten over that. So he still likes to give me a hard time sometimes when it comes to paying me for what I produce for the pharmacy. He’s feeling especially bitter about that because he’s a racist piece of shit who didn’t like the fact that I stepped in to help your men when he refused to, and now I’m going off with said fishmen.”

Arlong grinned. “We’ll see about that.”

It was almost like the good old days. So far, the fishmen had given the island folk no trouble, which had lulled these stupid humans into complacency. So it was all too easy to march up to the doctor's office and shake the money from him and his neighbors when the fishmen threatened them after they attempted to intervene.

Arlong the Saw ended up with more money than Yolande said she was owed, but instead of returning it to the villagers, he pocketed it for himself. The doctor thought he would scorn fishmen who had simply been seeking aid, and try to screw someone out of the money she was owed as well. Filthy humans.

He was, however, cautious enough to not tell the doctor who he really was, or the name of his crew. If that stupid asshole thought to complain to anybody, all he would have to go by was the Jolly Roger and ship identification that belonged to a man who was now dead.

He walked up the gangplank, an impressive sight with his shoulders squared, a prideful expression on his face. With a smirk, he handed a stack of Beli to his mate, who blinked at the paper in her hands before staring up at him with shocked but grateful eyes. Then her eyebrows creased and he could see the question on her face.

“Tempting as it was to do worse, he is fine. Or will be. He’ll have a few bruises.”

She tilted her head to one side, deep in thought for a couple of moments before giving him a simple. "Thank you." Despite. her calm expression, he was certain he saw a glimmer of approval in her eyes like she was secretly pleased that he was willing to shake a man down for her.

Wasn’t it his duty to protect and provide for his siren? And if he had a bit of fun and profit doing it, all the better.

With full provisions, healthy fishmen, and his siren, Arlong set off from the island in search of a better future for himself and his crew.

[birdsquirrel]

creature concepts for a minecraft pokemon-like mod

a while ago, i made a post about how there should be a creature collecting/battling mod for minecraft that has its own, minecraft-inspired creature designs, instead of pokemon.

i think this would be good both in terms of "fitting" into the game better AND keeping out of the attention of a famously litigious game company.

it also would be a chance to give the creatures uses in the game outside of battle.

here are a dozen ideas for creatures i've had:

a dirt themed doggy - somewhat inspired by a dachshund, though bigger and more front-heavy. outside of battle, it occasionally digs up items - things like plants, seeds, saplings, bones, and rotten flesh. rarely, it can dig up ores.

a panda guy that plays instruments, a banda - i'm imagining a different variant for each vanilla panda variant. outside of battle, it plays little tidbits of song. if there are multiple bandas around, they play together :)

cherry bee - a little pink bee with cherry blossom wings and green antenna. it bone meals crops when it flys over them.

a leaf sheep. a leef - it's a sheep that looks like it's made of wood, that grows leaves instead of wool. there's a variant for each vanilla tree, found according to which biome it generates in. you can shear it for its leaves, but you might not want to - the leaves allow it to tank the first hit it receives in battle.

a kelpie but it's nice :) - a horse with a kelp mane, found on beaches and in shallow oceans. it has a few color variants - black, dark grey, light grey, white, and bluish green. you can ride it and not only will it swim, it does so at a good pace and gives you water-breathing while you're mounted on it.

flying pig - come on, you gotta have a flying pig. it's tiny and round and gives you luck.

a giant rooster named buckawk - i'm gonna be real with you, this ones mostly so people can make immature jokes about having a huge cockerel. yeah, children play this game, but this is exactly the kind of humor 12 year olds love. he gives you feather falling.

an aurochs themed around ore. an ore-ox, if you will - has variants for all the vanilla ores, possibly with built-in support for common modded ore such as osmium, aluminum, and platinum. occasionally sheds raw ores.

an electric jackalope - this one comes from when i was thinking maybe you could craft the creatures, and he would've required a lightning rod. tbh i can't think of a use for him that would NOT result in players hitting themselves with lightning, but im still enamored with the idea. maybe he can just press buttons like a copper golem :)

salmon dragon - you know how the magikarp/gyrados line was inspired by the legend of carps jumping up a huge waterfall and turning into dragons? and you know how salmon migrate upriver and undergo a strange metamorphosis to be able to do so? yeah. salmon-dragon. idk what this one would do either, the concept just rocks.

lava llama. llava - it'd look cute and the pun is solid. you can ride it over lava like a more-easily controlled strider and it gives you fire resistance.

bottle axolotl. axobottl. - yeah i know axolotl wasn't originally supposed to be pronounced like that, but consider - a little guy that you can give a potion and then he gives you that potion effect for much longer than the potion itself would've.

[longlistshort]

Mark Georgiades, “Ghost of the Abandoned Bride”, Metal Steel and copper

Shelly Steck Reale, “The Fate You Choose”, Ceramic, wood, moss

Spooky season has begun and Florida CraftArt’s current exhibition Ghost Stories, curated by Catherine Bergmann (Curatorial Director of Dunedin Fine Art Center), is a perfect way to start celebrating.

The following artists are featured in the exhibition: Alegrobot, Demeree Barth, Karen Brown, Wendy Bruce, Joyce Curvin, Creative Clay, Coralette Damme, Katie Deits, Ed Derkevics, LA Finfinger, Eric Folsom, Janet Folsom, Mark Georgiades, Kristina Gintautiene, Erin Griffin, Cort Hartle, Judy Heady, Emma Hobbs, Pam Jones, Polly Johnson, Tyler Jones, Janna Kennedy, Traci Kegerreis, Betsy Lester, Cindy Linville, Richard Logan, Trent Manning, Francine Michel, Elizabeth Neily, Jacqueline Philip, Nick Reale, Shelly Steck Reale, Christine Renc-Carter, Jennifer Rosseter, Addie Rodriguez, Cooky Schock, Donna Slawsky, and Brandy Stark.

On Thursday, 10/5/23, in partnership with Keep St. Pete Lit, a group of local writers will be telling ghost stories at the gallery inspired by pieces from the exhibition. The reading will take place at 6pm.

Below are a few more selections-

Work by Alegrobot, Hand sculpted paper clay, acrylic paint

Janet Folsom, “Apparitions”, Mixed media (top left); Eric Folsom, Gravestone, bronze on marble; Donna Slawsky, (top right) “The Devil’s Work”, Stained glass, beads, and Creative Clay, Stephanie,(bottom right) “Monkey Dreams”, Mixed Media

About Creative Clay, who contributed several works to the exhibition-

“Creative Clay achieves its mission by providing ongoing studio arts workshops for individuals with disabilities five days per week. Creative Clay teaching artists provide students with education and experience in artistic techniques, as well as vocational skills related to the display, promotion, and sale or their expressive work.”

Katie Deits, “Haunted by the Past”, Ceramic, cotton, pencil, acrylic paint (left) and Nick Reale, “Out of the Wood” wood sculpture

Francine Michel “Mysteries of Urraca Mesa”, Water mixable oil, collage

Ed Derkevics, “Burnt Offerings”- “3 Potions” and “Jagged”- Mixed Media, recycled found objects

Janna Kennedy, “Souls and Pharmaseuticles”, 1800s Cabinet Cards, 1902 Pharmacy Ledger & Medical Ads, 19th Century Medicine Bottles

Kristina Gintautiene, “Slava”, Birch cradle board, Tissue paper, wax, oil pigments

LA Finfinger, Ghost Ceramic work (bottom left); Alegrobot, “(For the Record) he ordered the special”, Vinyl record, paper clay; Traci Kegerreis, “The Lost Lenore”, Mixed media (center top); Demeree Barth, “Remembering Sedlec Ossuary”, Clay, bullet casings, wood display stand, found objects (bottom right)

[contentloadingandstuff]

Mortuarius - Chapter I

Darkness. 

Images. Colors. Blurry shapes of days past. Dark spots. Bright light. 

Everything he saw. 

Voices. Soft, caring. Cruel and mocking. All blend into one incomprehensible cacophony. 

Elegance. Lightness. Freedom. 

No pain. 

It doesn't hurt. 

At last. 

Peace. 

Quiver. Tremble. Something snaps into place. 

His hands are bound. A sensation of falling. He screams. Something chokes him. Something envelops his chest, warm and heavy on his being. He tries to pull, push it off, scratch it away. His fingers become fat, clumsy, rough, warm. 

Again. 

He opens his mouth and instead of the nothingness of before a gust of air hits him. 

More, more. His body wants more. His throat is overwhelmed, he can't get it to open, he can't… breathe. 

A hand grips his throat, thumb pressing into his windpipe, forcing it open again. Air, more delicious, fresh air. 

His ears are ringing. His muscles refuse to move, leaving his body limp. He snaps his eyelids open, only to be greeted by a blurry blend of colors. His ears work again, hitting him with a barrage of sounds. 

Words, talking. A dialogue. He doesn't understand them. He hears a new combination of sounds, new vowels, new words. A foreign language.

"Subject is awake, respiratory issue removed, continuing to monitor." The voice isn't far away, two, maybe three steps away. 

He wants to puke. His senses aren't ready, not yet. He doesn't want to go back. He wants to move on. 

He wants to die. 

He would give in to the nausea, but his mind speaks against it. He knows what they will do if he misbehaves. 

He closes his eyes, and tries to move his hands. 

Pain. 

He howls as the feeling overwhelms him. Sharp pain appears in both of his arms, the feeling akin to having needles shoved into his flesh. He clenches his hands over what's underneath him in reflex, bringing forth even more agony. His eyes roll back into his skull as his body shakes and trembles. 

"Syringe. Syringe! Give it here!" Another voice, echoing, unfamiliar, completely incomprehensible. 

Among the barrage of the torturous stabbing he notices a real injection. Somebody injects him with something, he wants to panic, to defend himself, but the suffering proves too great to overcome. His hands are gripping the soft material, the only action he has the clarity to take. 

The screaming continues. He feels like his throat has been massacred by a cheese grater. He feels the familiar, coppery taste in his mouth. Suddenly, many cold, hard hands grip his limbs and torso. They hold him down, speaking in their strange language. Among the exchange his ears singled out a familiar note. Inazuman.

"Shh, shh, calm down. I know it hurts, but it's fine now. You're not in danger. We will help you." Someone places a hand on his forehead. It's cold, hard, but smooth all the same. Not like a glove, or a hand. 

Like bone. 

He listens on. The pain starts to fade rapidly. What? What did they do to him? His torture ends, enabling his breathing to retake it's slow, rhythmic pace - slowly, yes, but surely. His hands loosen up, allowing the whitened flesh to finally rest. He lets his jaw drop, finally lifting the pressure from his new, complete set of teeth. 

Black spots dance before his closed eyes. 

"If you can hear me, close your left hand." The voice is calm, steady. Soothing. He does as it asks. 

"Subject is sapient." The voice turns unfamiliar, and then familiar again. "How are you feeling?" 

He opens his mouth to speak, but a feeling of dryness overcomes him. He coughs. A rough whisper is all he can manage. 

"Wat.. er…" 

"Bottle." A straw is pressed on his lips. "Here." 

He greedily takes the straw and starts drinking. Cool, fresh, nourishing water pours into his throat, raw and bloody from his screams. The taste of copper is washed away. He stops only when there is nothing left in the straw. 

"I take it you're feeling better now?" 

"Yes." He says, now more clarity in his exhausted voice. "Where… am I? Who are you?" 

"Tell Lord Sunqu the procedure was a success. Leave me with him." Footsteps ring out in the room, and he hears the door click shut. "You are on an island far from the shores of Snezhnaya. We will bring you back to health, don't worry. They won't reach you here."

He ponders on the words briefly, before carefully picking the question. "How can I trust you?" 

The thing laughs, voice dry, artificial and echoing. "Think about it. You have no other option, do you?" A pause. "I'm sure you have a name, human."

"Denki. S-Sakurai Denki." The black spots slowly fade out, his head throbbing at a bearable level now. Denki slowly cracks open his eyes, wet from tears of agony. 

His eyes instantly land on the thing beside him. On a luxurious armchair next to him sits a dark figure, the volume of its jet black robe contrasting with the slimness of the skeletal legs, protruding from the cascading fabric, one  casually resting over the other. The bones, polishes to a perfect, pristine white, reflected the bright yellow light from the chandelier overhead. The hood of the robe was pulled back, revealing the skull. It was complete and undamaged, no teeth missing and the jaw in place. Among the pitch black of the sockets were two small, bright pupils. The undead twirls a pencil in its right hand, the other resting over a clipboard. Both of them are covered in black, tight leather gloves. 

The only colorful element of the outfit is a green stole. The emerald silk is lined with golden thread, forming a beautiful pattern around the edges. On the left end of the cloth is a series of strange and complex symbols, ones he had never encountered before. On the right one are two pictograms. The very end of the fabric is taken up by a combination of three circles, layered together with geometric patterns filling up the spaces in between them. Inside the smallest one is a turned square connected to the circle with thin, straight lines. Inside the square there's a small diamond, making the whole symbol resemble an eye. Above it is a woven depiction of a fly. It remains impressive, even despite the design's simplicity. 

The undead laughs, pulling Denki's mind back to reality. "Mesmerizing, is it? I'll have you know that it was woven by the same craftsman that created Beelzebub's kimono."

Denki furrows his brows. "Is he… undead too?" 

His interlocutor scoffs. "The Necro Archon doesn't condone wasting talent."

"The Necro Archon? Is he one of the seven…" Denki looks at the skeleton in front of him, searching for the right term. "... sir?" 

"Hm. Many call me The Watcher, for I am the guardian and caretaker of Nindānu. You might use that title as well." He lowers his clipboard. "He is indeed. The eighth of them. But it is not important now."

The Watcher raises up, placing his instruments on the armchair. He walks towards Denki, and gently pushes his chest down so that he lays back on the bed. "You are weak. Judging from the pain, the soul has not adjusted yet."

"What does that mean?" He looks down at his body, finding its skin tone to be far paler than before. "Am I d-dead?"

Watcher rests his hand on the human's forehead briefly, before retracting it and turning around. Denki's eyes catch a silver tray, and his heart immediately picks up. "No, of course not. If you would be, would you feel pain? Or thirst?" 

The liche turns around. In his hand is a glass ampule containing a few droplets of a dense, purple fluid. 

The prickling of tears behind his eyes return, and so does the pain. Everything flashes before his eyes, the all too familiar sinking feeling in his chest making its return. He tries to move, to run, to escape, but his attempts die at the immense stabbing in his muscles. His chest is rising rapidly. "N-no… please… d-don't!" 

Watcher's fingers travel to the cap, ready to break the seal. "Don't worry, Denki. This is not poison. It will help you sleep, as well as ease the pain. Your soul needs to rest, it has to recover. To get adjusted to your new body."

"What did you do to m-me?" He asks, voice shaky and unsure. 

"How about a deal? You'll take this, and then I will answer your question. You'll wake up in about ten, twelve hours, and then I will give you something to eat." Though his voice, despite its unusual nature, is soft, the resting grin of his bleached skull tears all the comfort from his words. Denki weighs his options. 

"Alright, but can you tell me now? I don't think I will stay awake long enough to h-hear it."

"Ah, you're quite sound of mind. Very well." His jaw moves as a human's would, but the sound seems to originate from underneath his robes. "We have transplanted your soul. Your previous body couldn't sustain it anymore. Or, in simpler terms, you died and lived again." 

Denki looks away. 

He hoped otherwise. 

"Why?" Tears make their way down his bright skin. 

"I have told you that the Necro Archon doesn't approve of wasting talent, have I not? I trust in his choice, and so should you." Watcher turns the wooden tip, and the glass cracks open quietly. "And, so far, you are the only mortal that has survived this procedure. In two thousand years' time. Do you understand your value now?" 

Denki nods slightly. Watcher removes the tip, and places the vial near his nose. A sharp, minty smell overwhelms his nostrils. He wants to gag, but he knows better.

He promised he will behave, and there’s no telling what Watcher could do to him if he misbehaved. 

He doesn’t know his punishments. Not yet.

“Sleep, human. You have much to achieve.”

—

The Watcher steps over the threshold, his bare feet touching the rough tiles of the balcony. His bones transfer the texture well, but its temperature remains for him to guess. He bows his head upon laying eyes on the figure in front of him. 

“Lord Sunqū. The subject is alive and fares relatively well. His soul has not settled in, but that is just a matter of time now.”

Sunqū doesn’t bother to turn around. Watcher observes his master’s robes flowing in the harsh coastal wind, held down by the Inazuman armor. The golden decoration on his kabuto holds firm, glimmering brightly in the moonlight. 

“Very good.”

A rat emerges from underneath Watcher’s robes. His eyes trace its movements as it approaches Sunqū. It stops behind him, the small body vibrating with the intense beating of the creature’s small heart. It raises up on its back legs and bites down on the tattered black robe, pulling it with all its might. Sunqū taps the railing with his finger, and the rat turns its attention towards the sound. Despite its famished appearance, it proves agile enough to jump up on the railing. It waddles over to its master, who stretches out his hand towards the animal. It climbs up him, the filthy tail wrapping itself around the yellowed bones for support. 

Sunqū turns around. The brown rat moves up his armor and squeezes into the chest cavity through the collar bone. It moves around in the robe, pushing out piles of cream-white maggots right onto the floor. Watcher, not daring to look into the eye sockets hidden behind the bird mask, keeps his gaze restrained to his teeth. A sharp and slim tongue slides out from between the crooked, bloody teeth, and covers them in black, oozing sludge. 

“I never fail.”

Thank you for reading!

[agp]

hey if youre on turtle island or still tuesday and feel like trying a quick silly browser game you should check out tradle. (i think it updates at midnight based on time zones?) todays is real fun i prommy.

you get five guesses to figure out a country from its export data, and after each guess they tell you how far away you are and what direction the county youre looking for is. i know it sounds like a ridiculous challenge but this one has a bunch of easy hints and giveaways that are accessible to your average westerner

if its wednesday by now or you want to see the data presented differently check out this silly economy under the cut (bolded 'spoilers' ig)

total export value: 371b (usd)

gold: 86.7b (23%}

packaged meds: 48.5b (13%)

vaccines, blood, cultures, etc: 40.3b (11%)

base metal watches: 15.2b (4%)

nitrogen heterocyclic compounds: 14.2b (4%)

jewlery: 9.35b (2.5%)

precious metal watches: 8.97b (2.5%)

orthopedic appliances: 7.02b (2%)

hormones: 3.38b

coffee: 3.36b

electricity: 3.19b

medical instruments: 3.09b

machinery w indv functions: 3.04b

platinum: 2.54b

chemical analysis instruments: 2.27b

nucleic acids: 2.17b

valves: 2.17b

silver: 2.01b

electric motors: 1.78b

scented mixtures: 1.72b

sulfonamides: 1.71b

diamonds: 1.64b

planes, helicopters, and spacecraft: 1.63b

beauty products: 1.58b

other heating machinery: 1.43b

flavored water: 1.43b

gas turbines: 1.38b

low voltage protection eq: 1.34b

gas and liquid flow measuring inst: 1.3b

carboxyamide compounds: 1.26b

other measuring instruments: 1.24b

air pumps: 1.16b

motor vehicles, parts, and acc: 1.14b

petroleum gas: 1.12b

electrical transformers: 1.11b

aluminum plating: 1.07b

other plastic products: 1.01b

metal working machine parts: 988m

vitamins: 965m

polyamides: 963m

washing and bottling machines: 925m

chocolate: 887m

oxygen amino compounds: 885m

integrated circuits: 884m

iron fasteners: 881m

paintings: 873m

transmissions: 855m

special pharmaceuticals: 837m

insulated wire: 828m

electrical power accessories: 826m

plastic lids: 818m

cheese: 800m

antibiotics: 797m

liquid pumps: 797m

cars: 789m

ink: 752m

non mechanical removal machinery: 737m

trunks and cases: 734m

centrifuges: 730m

interchangeable tool parts: 728m

high voltage protection eq: 705m

hand saws: 693m

other edible preparations: 680m

electric heaters: 679m

electrical control boards: 672m

polyacetals: 664m

plastic pipes: 636m

electric soldering equipment: 616m

precious metal compounds: 608m

industrial fatty acids, oils, and alcohols: 608m

hot rolled iron bars: 590m

self propelled rail transport: 582m

refined petroleum: 577m

hydrazine or hydroxylamine derivatives: 565m

precious stones: 563m

rubber working machinery: 561m

unpackaged meds: 557m

other iron products: 553m

precious metal scraps 550m

computers: 545m

surveying equipment: 523m

other plastic sheetings: 519m

metal finishing machines: 516m

scrap copper: 514m

semiconductor devices: 511m

raw plastic sheeting: 494m

documents or title and stamps: 490m

rolled tobacco: 487m

malt extract: 469m

other electrical machinery: 467m

other paper machinery: 450m

oxygen heterocyclic compounds: 441m

non knit mens suits: 441m

synthetic coloring matter: 436m

locomotive parts: 432m

non knit womens suits: 428m

iron structures: 424m

leather footwear: 421m

industrial printers: 415m

lifting machinery: 415m

scrap iron: 412m

therapeutic appliances: 410m

office machine parts: 410m

other clocks and watches: 405m

metal molds: 403m

other furniture: 403m

glaziers putty: 377m

liquid dispersing machines: 376m

knitting machine accessories: 370m

other small iron pipes: 369m

broadcasting equipment: 367m

aircraft parts: 363m

industrial food prep machinery: 362m

glues: 357m

pesticides: 349m

oscilloscopes: 344m

raw aluminum: 344m

knit sweaters: 339m

optical fibers and bundles: 334m

excavation machinery: 332m

non iron/steel slag ash and residue: 319m

carboxylic acids: 315m

xray equipment: 315m

electric motor parts: 315m

watch straps: 313m

tanks and armoured vehicles: 310m

forging machines: 309m

cleaning products: 306m

metalworking transfer machines: 298m

animal food: 294m

combustion engines: 282m

engine parts: 271m

electric generating sets: 254m

scrap aluminum: 249m

laboratory reagents: 249m

perfumes: 244m

other rubber products: 241m

photo lab equipment: 240m

wheat: 236m

lubricating products: 234m

printed circuit boards: 233m

aluminum bars: 230m

explosive ammunition: 230m

brooms: 224m

lcds: 223m

refrigerators: 223m

motorcycles and cycles: 221m

large construction vehicles: 221m

coal briquettes: 221m

corn: 220m

aluminum cans: 219m

textile footwear: 217m

thermostats: 207m

coffee and tea extracts: 206m

other aluminum products: 204m

ball bearings: 203m

knives: 199m

machines for additive mnf: 195m

raw iron bars: 187m

delivery trucks: 185m

milling stones: 176m

aluminum foil: 170m

collectors items: 169m

soybean oil: 169m

wood fiberboard: 166m

other stainless steel bars: 164m

sculptures: 160m

cutting blades: 159m

baked goods: 150m

navigation equipment: 146m

hydrometers: 137m

watch cases and parts: 134m

laboratory ceramic wear: 134m

wood carpentry: 124m

mirrors and lenses: 117m

[fox-daddy]

Maybe I should stop watching memes but;

My Tav oc aka Kyle: wooden poles are just trees that got cleaned up and got a job

Wyll:No. No, we are not going through this today.

Kyle: people who say gold can't buy friendship aren't considering you can buy a dog

Gale: or I could just have you for free

Kyle: gravity is creepy when you realize you're not walking around on a surface you're being pulled into a burning core of magma

Astarion: there's got to be something wrong with you, there's no way you’re just like that normally.

Kyle taking it as permission to continue: if you use a copper piece as a book mark it's cheaper than buying an actual bookmark

Astarion: hey Kyle, guess what? I hate you

Kyle: a marriage proposal is one knee away from begging

Shadowheart:...

Kyle: the real question is for what?

Shadowheart: no, no, bad Kyle *water spray bottle used for Srach and the owlbear*

Kyle;hisses*

Kyle; hockey is a lot more intresting if you pretend everyone's fighting for the last oreo

Wyll: you must be a joy at hockey games

Kyle: corrupt guards are just undercover criminals

Scrach:???

Kyle: being a healer is like being an tinkerer except you have to fix the item while it's still running

Astarion: get out, your banned from camp until you stop, get out

Kyle: isn't it crazy how you close both eyes you see black but you close one eye and you see nothing at all?

Astarion: borrowing the spray bottle*

Kyle: already hissing and running away from Astarion*

~~~

Astarion: hey bro, what do you want to eat?

The dark urge: the souls of the innocent*

Hunter: a bagel

The dark urge:NOOOOOO!*

Hunter: two bagels

~~~

Kyle: I love you have a cupcake

Gale: ^///^

Kyle: I like you have a cupcake

Wyll: thanks?

Kyle: ehhhhhhh-

Astarion: glare*

Kyle: I like you have a cupcake

Shadowheart: laughing at Astarion while accepting it*

~~~

Kyle: sigh*

Karlach: whats the problem?

Kyle: maths

Karlach: I can help with that *takes the sheet* here's an easy one what's six times three?

Kyle: shrug*

Karlach: six times three

Kyle: I don't know

Karlach: six times three!

Kyle: I don't-

Karlach: SIX TIMES THREE!

Kyle: I LEGIT DON'T KNOW!

Karlach:SIX TIMES THREE!

Kyle: I DON'T KNOW, WHAT IS IT?!

Karlach: what is it?

Karlach:...

Karlach: get Astarion

Kyle: why?

Karlach: ASTARION!

Astarion: what is it?

Karlach: maths *hands the sheet to Astarion*

Astarion: what's six times three?

Kyle: I don't know!

Astarion: SIX TIMES THREE!

Kyle: I DON'T KNOW!

Astarion: what's six plus six?

Kyle: Oh, twelve

Astarion: NOW ADD SIX!

Kyle: I DON'T KNOW WHAT IS IT?!

Astarion: WHAT IS IT?!

Astarion:...

Astarion: get Gale

Kyle: wha-?

Astarion: GALE!!!

Gale: WHAT?!

Astarion; maths

Gale: takes the paper* I taught you this, what's six times three?

Kyle: I DON'T KNOW!

Gale: look if Lae'zel has six times three weapons how many weapons does Lae'zel have?

Kyle: wait, why does Lae'zel have so many weapons?!

Lae'zel: mind your own business!

Gale: are you done? So you know if she gave you six weapons she would have twelve so-

Lae'zel: SIX?! I'm not even giving him a single dagger!

Gale: I was talking hypertheoretical!

Lae'zel: I don't care what you we're talking in he isn't getting anything from me!

Gale: great job everyone, this was a disaster from start to finish

~~~

Kyle trying not to laugh: sup

Gale: sup?

Kyle: I only know twenty-five letters of the alphabet

Gale already regretting his life choices: how come?

Kyle: I don't know, Y

Gale: Kyle-

Kyle: laughing*

Gale: that was the worst one yet

Kyle:dying of laughter*

[cannibal-wings]

I didn’t finish a chapter update in time for Vash’s b-day, but I did say I would drop a little bit of the chapter I’m working on. So here’s a bit from Chapter Two of “The Side Effects of Saving You” the AU I’m doing where Wolfwood needs Vash’s blood to survive.

This bit does contain some slight body horror, mostly involving finger nails, so if that bothers you, take care.

Wolfwood found himself on the floor.

This wasn’t the first time he had ever come to on the floor of a rented room, but it was never a welcome feeling. When he opened his eyes he just saw static, nothing was in focus, he couldn’t tell which way he was oriented. He was lying facedown in something sticky. It tasted and smelled like blood not vomit. He was only slightly relieved by that. When he swallowed something sharp went down his throat and he coughed and spit whatever else was in his mouth out. He slapped his hand around in the darkness and picked something up. He rolled it around his finger tips and decided it was a tooth. One of the sharper ones, a canine or incisor. Ever since he was experimented on they were sharper than the average person’s. It was the only change in his appearance he liked from the whole ordeal.

Wolfwood ran his tongue over his teeth to check for which ones were missing, but was puzzled when all were accounted for. They felt sharper, even the lower ones, but still there. He also pulled out something that was stuck to the roof of his mouth. It was long, and felt like a feather. He put it aside and took a few breaths, hoping that if he stayed still long enough his vision would come back.

Once more, he was regretting letting everyone leave. But he also wasn’t sure what having one of them around would help. He was sure Vash was doing more good out at that town than sitting with him watching him cough up his own teeth. Wolfwood put an arm under him and pushed up. He could still get into a sitting position and felt around for the bed. It was to his right. He leaned on it when the world seemed to shift under him. Wolfwood groaned and pulled in more air.

His head was pounding and the first thing he was going to do when he could stand was down more painkillers. Very slowly the spots vanished from his vision and he was able to focus on the blank off white wall in front of him. Moving felt like it was in slow motion, but he did reach down to pick up one of the teeth he spit out. It was a tooth, that much was certain, the real question was whether it was his. It had to be, the other options didn’t make sense. He reasoned that maybe when he collapsed, he knocked a few out and they regrew.

Wolfwood then examined the feathers that were scattered around the small pool of blood he woke up in. They were blue, not pale yellow or black. “What’d I do? Eat a pillow?” He saw the shredded remains of Vash’s pillow he tossed to the floor. The guess seemed more likely now. Wolfwood struggled to his feet and swayed, he used the bed for support. His vision swam but cleared up after a few moments of being upright. This time he didn’t pass out.

He was still hot, unbearably hot, but he didn’t want to pass out in the shower and drown, so he instead made his way to the small table by the window. He was winded by the time he sat down in one of the creaky chairs. “Shit,” Wolfwood said and tried to read the instructions on the medication bottles Vash had left behind. His eyes could not focus on the squirming small print. “Fuck it,” he said and dumped a bunch from both bottles into his hand. “I probably won’t die from this, probably.” He hesitated and shook a few of the pills back onto the table. Just in case he could die from that.

The rest he knocked back with the help of a canteen of water Vash left on the table. His mouth tasted of copper again, he was getting tired of that. His stomach groaned and he lifted a doughnut out of the box. While he didn’t feel like eating his body was demanding it. He nibbled on the doughnut and glanced at the map on the table in front of him. Vash had circled the town they were visiting in red. “Corrin huh?”

There must have been something there that they needed, Wolfwood couldn’t figure out what. He had passed through the town once a few years back while tracking a target. He didn’t recall it being anything special. He took another long pull off of the canteen and pulled the map closer. Corrin was at least an hour and a half out, even if Meryl drove more recklessly than normal it’d still take them two hours to do a round trip in driving time alone. Wolfwood had no idea how long their business there would take. He checked a wall clock and saw that four hours had already passed. He frowned.

That was a lot of time to spend passed out on the floor.

He took another bite of the doughnut and tried to relax. His heart was still pounding, which was not helping his headache. All his muscles still felt coiled, like there was adrenaline he couldn’t dissipate. It just made him feel even more queasy. He didn’t know how to communicate to his brain that he was ok, he was safe, nothing was trying to kill him. Vash’s scent returned to bother him and he leaned back in his chair just enough to reach the window and crack it.

He needed a smoke, to block out the smell, but he didn’t think he could walk to the bedside table just yet. So instead, he ate more of the doughnut and tried really hard to ignore what his senses were screaming about. Wolfwood rhythmically tapped his fingers on the table and looked back to the map. They were still so far from their destination. It would be weeks left of travel at this pace. But he knew that he couldn’t push too hard without giving himself away.

Vash knew, Vash had known from the start. It was very hard to hide anything from him, he learned. But he found himself struggling with telling Meryl and Milly the truth. He didn’t want to hurt them but he knew that he already had. For the first time in ages he had people who cared about him, and who he cared about in return, and he hated the feeling he had about himself. That he didn’t deserve to have this, and he hated how that seemed to be a self-fulfilling prophecy. Like he was destined to lose anything that he dared to care about.

The thought just frustrated him and he slammed the fingers he was drumming on the table down. It took him a few more raps before he noticed something was wrong with his hand. He lifted his hand to look at a nail that had fractured down the middle. When he touched it, it started to peel off.

“Well,” Wolfwood said flatly as a second nail came away in one piece. “That’s not good.” He was pretty sure his finger nails weren’t supposed to fall off. He had wiggled another three off before his brain caught up with his actions and he forced himself to stop. He stood with a bit of a sway and walked to the bedside table. He picked up his pack of cigarettes and then realized that he had to bend down and dig through his pants pocket for his lighter. The motion almost made him vomit but he kept everything down and returned to the table. Wolfwood figured if he was going to die of some mysterious illness he might as well go out smoking.

He lit one and breathed in deeply. For just a moment he could think clearly without his stomach churning and his skin feeling like it was shifting. Then he exhaled and the scents of the room came flooding back. Wolfwood scooted the chair back so he could open the window a bit more. He rested an elbow on the ledge and faced outside. The fresh air seemed to be helping, and with shaking hands he lit another and looked down at the few people walking the streets below. In the back of his mind something was tugging him to go out there too.

His mouth started to water and he glanced back at the box of doughnuts, but he wasn’t hungry for any more sugar. He wanted something more substantial than a sandwich too. He just didn’t know what it was. His headache was fading, it was like a fog was lifting. Wolfwood knew he wasn’t ok. The nails on his other hand had fallen off while he was smoking. He swore he heard bones snap along his back. He was unwell, he was sweating and nauseous but for some reason his mind was telling him to go outside.

He tried to reason with himself, that he should go back to bed, or camp out by the toilet, or finish his pack of cigarettes. That if he was sick with something really bad he shouldn’t go outside and possibly infect others. He should stay put, wait it out, wait for the others to get back. Maybe they could bring him to a hospital? Wolfwood looked back at the map to check for the nearest larger town, but now the map had begun to swim in his vision too. “Shit,” he muttered and moved to light his lighter, he fumbled it and it fell to the floor. Air. He decided. He just needed some air. He just had to get out of this room that smelled so sickly sweet like Vash.  

He would just step outside for a moment, just for a breather.

Wolfwood pushed himself out of his chair, stumbled, found his footing and made for the door.

It would only be for a second, he reasoned. Nothing would happen. He would be ok.

[the-acid-pear-ocs]

I'm reading Copper's story again so i'll give a silly rundown of it:

Copper is in the forest, he's looking for a victim of a previous ai dungeon character of mine. We dont speak of that previous guy. Much silliness ensued here but none of it is canon.

Copper follows the screams but runs into a girl who is not screaming instead just playing w a toy truck. He's very fixated on that truck. She tells him her brother died because she didnt pray enough. Copper asks meaningless questions and then leaves.

Copper walks into a man with a bandage on his head who's holding a shotgun and crying. Without second thought he simply sits next to the man, ignoring how fucking dangerous this is.

The man tells him his family, wife and son, were killed by John Wayne Gacy, whom he also calls the White Devil. Copper has no fucking clue who that is but ends up telling this man to stfu bc he's getting sick.

(A/n: By now i need to remind yall copper is a detective.)

Copper asks the man about the bandages, the man explains what a bandage is. Copper calls him an idiot and asks why he has them on, the man ignores that and instead talks about what The White Devil does (takes the form of a clown and throws bodies in bags into a mass grave). Copper asks where he can find this killer, the man tells him to go to hell. Copper gets up and leaves, he looks at the sky and starts thinking of the weather.

(A/n: now you could fairly argue the victim is in shock, and maybe even brain damaged, so the strange responses are to be expected. This is not justified as for Copper, though.)

Copper has a bit of a Harry DuBois moment, directly talking to the voices in his head. Of course, said voices were me. A very fucking tired man having to deal with this very uncooperative detective.

Copper says he doesn't want to deal with this serial killer and instead goes home. Here he casually mentions there's a zombie outbreak. Zombies are living in the sewers of Denton. However despite refusing to face a serial killer he's confident about his abilities against zombies.

Copper goes home but realizes he has none of the things needed for outside survival like a tent, a knife, food and water, money for gas or spare clothes.

These things are, however, entirely useless, since it is confirmed Copper very much has a house when he realizes he hasn't eaten in days and picks some chips from his fridge. Except he throws up. Then swallows them down?

Copper is about to remember he's a grown man with a job when suddenly he hears someone shouting upstairs and firing a gun, so he goes investigate.

(A/n: I really believe Copper might be homeless. It is very likely he isn't even a real cop. I really think he just broke into some apartment and ate some spoiled chips)

Copper walks into a new place and starts looking for a girl named Alice. He forgets about the gunshots for a second, before thinking of the possibility of Alice having been shot.

Copper finds Alice hiding under a tree on a beer bottle filled backyard. She's been shot but she's alive, according to Copper. However, there seems something bad happened to both of them the previous day, and he wants to move on, so he just goes home, worried about being arrested.

(A/n: Copper realized he broke into a house and that's illegal?)

On the news, a story about a man named Jameson who killed his wife is playing on the news. The details are contradicting, and its an overal sickening situation. Copper turns the TV off.

Needing to clear up his mind, Copper goes out to buy some ice cream. He realizes new shops are opening around the neighborhood and feels happy about having a normal life :)

There's a loud sound and Copper runs directly into it, finding two men in black suits armed. One of them only misses shooting Copper on the head by centimeters.

Copper ducks and tries to run away, stumbling, until he finds a trash can where he hides inside.

Some people find him. At first, they are nice to him. Believing him and saying he should go home or get help, but after Copper says he can't because the man is still out there they start laughing and insulting him, culminating in them calling the shotgun man.

The man grabs Copper and shoots up and at him, but none of the shots hit. He also seems upset, asking Copper "what did i ever do to you?", which Copper asks the same.

Once again, Copper manages to escape and finds a dumpster to hide in, where he stays inside until midnight.

Eventually, Copper decides to leave and heads in to a police station, figuring out that if the man attacking him isnt there by now he must be gone. His panic is however evident and multiple people try to ask him if he's alright.

Copper sits down to calm himself down. A woman approaches and asks him who he is, and once he says his name she says he doesn't believe him. She then questions what he's doing here, to which Copper mentions that a man tried to kill him. The woman just gets confused and continues to stare at him blankly.

Copper gets really weirded out by this, especially because it was coming from someone who wasn't human. Because until now, Copper forgot to mention everyone in the room was in fact not human, but animalistic in some way.

It's then when he realizes: this is a furry convention. And, i quote him, "it really does seem like something out of a horror movie"

Copper tries to leave but he just walks in a room with even more furries and just, awkwardly hangs around, his anxiety raising by the moment.

As he was about to have a panic attack thinking of what the furries would do to him, a hand grabbed him and dragged him away from the furry part of the convention, instead leading him for a while to a different place. The man speaks but Copper can't understand what he's saying so he blindly trusts him.

After a while, the man points Copper to another group of people and tells him to follow them. Copper instead follows a single man, who leads him to an alleyway. The man looks fucking exhausted.

Copper wanted to tell the man to rest, but instead said HE wanted to rest, so the man took him to his house.

The man asks Copper why he's there, Copper is confused, and simply says that a furry told him to follow him. The man doesn't believe him but Copper insists it's true. After 5 minutes of writing, the man gives up.

Copper asks what the man wrote, to which he answers is the future. He says he doesn't know what the future holds, but it's going to be different from what they are used to.

The man leaves and the space time continuum collapses.

(A/n: This i later learnt was because of a glitch that was affecting all the users, but when it happened i thought it was just because Copper lost it, probably because him being nice broke the world.)

Copper waits for the man. He goes outside. Everything is normal. There's nothing inside. Copper goes back inside. He locks the door. Copper grabs the man. The man grabs him. He pulls the trigger. The man is dead. Copper waits for the man to come back. Copper sees the room to his room open, and walks outside. A man stands with a gun. Copper runs towards him, the gun is pointed towards him. They start to wrestle.

Copper grabs his phone and calls 911. The police take him to the hospital, where he finds out he's been shot.

(A/n: Copper originally and for a while died here, i was going to end his story, but eventually i changed it. This is why the loop broke.)

Copper goes home, but the next day he wakes up in the hospital. He's been shot, again? He tells the nurse he wants to go home.

Copper goes home, but the next day he wakes up in the hospital again.

Copper breaks down. He cries and screams for an hour until he feels everything is ok. The sings, cries from joy, sits down. He tries to focus on his thoughts but he's interrupted. A cop knocks on his door and is pointing his gun at him.

To be continued...