#uncle algae

[chipsoda]

cool and awesome sona i made up just now

[peeporoon]

[imagopirateversion]

Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales; Why It Shouldn’t Exist

Or how I invested time and energy into an analysis of a relatively dead franchise instead of doing it for my actual media analysis university course.

An essay by: a bitter and obsessed PotC fan since they were 7, with a lot of free time.

Lads, this is going to be long. You have been warned.

The Beginning

At the very beginning of the movie, we see a young Henry Turner looking for his dad.

Now, we're not talking about characterization problems or how likely it is that a ten-year-old child would risk his life to look for a man he technically only saw once; we're talking about plot problems, actual logical fallacies. My questions are:

How? The Flying Dutchman is a legendary ship, impossible to be found unless She wants to be found. The only reason we see Her in Dead Man's Chest is because Davy Jones himself is looking for Jack to collect his debt, and in that occasion the Dutchman's captain wasn't even doing what he was supposed to do, so he was most definitely in the living world. Will otherwise, he's doing the job Calypso gave him, so he's constantly in between. Is the movie trying to convince me that a kid was able to do something no one in the history of piracy was ever able to do? And even if he did, why hasn't anyone explained me how? He simply looks at a map and throws himself on the bottom of the ocean. How did he know The Dutchman was there? How did he know it would've come to surface?

Where is his mom? We got to know Elizabeth in the first three movies; we know she's a smart woman and we can assume she's an attentive mother. She didn't notice her son preparing himself for a trip in the middle of the ocean to go look for his dad? Was she distracted? Was she outsmarted by a 10ish-year-old? Or is she just not contemplated in this scenario?

Why does Will look like that? Will is doing his job, so... why does he look like he's slowly corrupting? That kind of corruption is the punishment Calypso reserves to The Dutchman's crew when the captain fails her, which isn't the case. Did they forget about it? Was the idea of putting algae on Orlando Bloom's face just impossible to resist to?

Alright, this isn't actually from this movie but it's bothering me, so I have to write it; also, it would make this whole movie unnecessary, so it's somehow related to it. Why (and I can't stress this enough) can't Elizabeth be on the Dutchman? Why can't they do the job together? Is it because she's not a pirate? I'm pretty sure se actually is. Is it because she's a woman? Last time I checked she was the KING. She wants to stay with Will forever, Will wants to stay with her forever, they can literally live forever on the same ship. Why aren't they?

Whatever the Hell Happened to Jack Sparrow

Imagine creating a character that is so iconic whenever you ask a person who was a kid in the early 2000 to imagine a pirate, they imagine said character.

Now imagine fourteen years pass and you decide to ruin that character by making him the most hideous, annoying, idiotic person in the whole saga, and we're talking about a saga that has Philip the Missionary in it. Why? Jack Sparrow is THE anti-hero. Never on the right side, but never on the wrong one. You can tell he's doing something morally questionable, but you still find yourself rooting for him. He's stupid enough to make you laugh, but he's secretly clever enough to always get away with it. Now he's just... drunk. And that's not even an excuse for this horrendous new characterization, because he was always drunk. The guy FORGOT HE WAS ROBBING A BANK, the same guy just one movie earlier was able to escape from the King of England's palace and steal a lady's earring (by pretending to be a literal slut) in the process. He just switched from the iconic drunk bi bestie everyone loves to my cringe uncle that drinks too much at Christmas parties and makes everyone uncomfortable. Please, if the risk is ruining an entire generation's beloved character, either don't make the movie or find a better explanation than "Bad luck dogs you day and night".

The Pearl in The Bottle

So... what you're telling me is that Jack Sparrow, the guy who was able to defeat Hector Barbossa, Davy Jones and Blackbeard thanks to his slyness, and who loves his Black Pearl more than anything else in the world, had said ship in a bottle in his pockets for FIVE YEARS... and he never thought about breaking the bottle to free Her. That's what you're telling me. This is the pivotal point upon which the entire Jack's plot hinges. I... I don't even know what to say. Was this supposed to be funny?

What an Incredibly Lucky Coincidence

A guy needs a treasure to save his father. To find it, he needs the help of a notorious and legendary pirate. He looks for him everywhere, sailing on dozens of ships just so he has the remote chance to stumble across the pirate. The last ship he's been on has sinked, he's the only survivor. He's been found in the middle of the ocean and someone brought him to the nearest city. Which city? I mean, the one that has both the pirate he was looking for and a lady who's the only person in the whole planet who's able to find the treasure he was looking for! And, oh my... he finds the both of them! In that same city! Without even LOOKING FOR THEM! A hell of a coincidence, if you ask me. Also known as lazy writing.

What's Wrong With the Guards?

Now, I know Pirates of the Caribbean isn't exactly known for its accurate historical reconstructions, but why are the guards in this movie acting like they're some sort of hellhounds ready to kill anyone in sight? Even pirates and traitors as Jack and Henry were supposed to stand trial before being sentenced to death. It would've probably been an unjust and barbaric trial, but there should've been one. We literally saw it, in the previous movie. Why's Jack been sentenced to death for simply existing here? He gave pirate vibes and they decided that was enough?

Paul McCartney

This is not an actual point of the analysis, I just wanted to remind people that Paul McCartney is in this movie and that's the only valid reason to watch it.

Salazar

I am confused. Once again, I have questions.

El Matador Del Mar was so good at his job he had almost defeated piracy. "The last ones joined together to try and defeat me". The last what? Pirates? There were no pirates left? This happened when Jack was young, so a lot of time before the first movie, right? Where were, I don't know... Blackbeard? Davy Jones? Barbossa? All the other Pirate Lords? I might be wrong, but I guess Salazar didn't kill them, did he? Why weren't they there during that "last battle" in which "the last ones joined together"?

The Devil's Triangle. I just don't understand what's the logic behind it. So, this is a cursed place. Whoever enters there, can't get out. One would think it means that if you get there, you die; and Salazar does die, but he somehow also becomes a ghost whose only purpose is to find Jack Sparrow and have his revenge. So, do people become ghosts when they get in The Devil's Triangle? We have to assume people have gotten stuck in there before; otherwise, there wouldn't be legends around the place. So why isn't it like full of spirits ready to haunt people? Why are Salazar and his crew the only ones?

Poseidon or Calypso?

What's the Trident of Poseidon? Does Poseidon exist? Isn't Calypso the Goddess of the sea? Breaking the Trident, you break all the curses of the sea, so the Trident must be more powerful than Calypso, which leads to a question. Where is she? She IS the sea, right? So she must have known someone was about to find the Trident and brake all curses, including her one. She just decided it was okay? It really feels like someone decided to suddenly change the world's mythology without giving explanations.

The Compass

This is possibly the most blatant plot hole in the whole saga. Probably the most blatant plot hole I've ever witnessed, and man, I watched all the Harry Potter movies. In Dead Man's Chest, Jack meets Tia Dalma in her "shop" and he tells her he's looking for the Davy Jones' key. She asks him "The compass you bartered from me, it cannot lead you to this?", making another pivotal point of Dead Men Tell No Tales factually senseless.

That man couldn't have given his compass to Jack, because that wasn't his compass.

So either Salazar is lying while telling his tale or they forgot about that line in the second movie. Anyway, let's pretend that line doesn't exist; even if that captain gave Jack his compass in that exact moment, why would it be the key to free Salazar, exactly? How is the compass in any way related to The Devil's Triangle or to Salazar? In the movie, they try to explain it with a sentence: “if you betray it, your greatest fear comes true”. So, is Salazar Jack's greatest fear? I really doesn't seem right, Jack almost didn't remember Salazar when Henry mentioned him. To Jack, he's only a guy he outsmarted decades earlier. Also, Jack technically already gave the compass away, twice: to Elizabeth in Dead Man's Chest, to make her find the chest, and to Beckett in At World's End, when they're negotiating.

That's... That's Just Body Shaming, Mate

Let's talk about her. So, the woman's ugly. It can happen that a woman is ugly. Was it necessary to build an entire scene around some blatant body shaming? This scene wants to mimic the similar scene in Dead Man's Chest: Jack's on an island, running from the main villain, and he's forced to do things he doesn't want to do until someone saves him, then it was Will, now it's Hector.

Except in Dead Man's Chest it was LITERAL CANNIBALISM he was facing, and yet he looked LESS TERRIFIED and DISGUSTED. What's exactly the message here? Lads, is marrying an ugly woman worse than cannibalism? I don't know... that was just bad.

Justice for Hector Barbossa

If you know me (you probably don't, but if you do) then you know about my obsession with Hector Barbossa. I truly believe he's the best written character in the saga, and he's in my top five of the characters I love the most in all media. I watched The Curse of the Black Pearl when I was seven and I am autistic, so I had all the time to develop a literal relationship with these characters in my head. As much as Geoffrey Rush's interpretation was impeccable, as always, it really hurt to watch Hector in this movie. He just doesn't sound like him. First of all, why isn't he on the Queen Anne's Revenge? Why's he letting someone else sail around on his ships? He would've never. Why's he just sitting on a throne and shooting musicians instead of, I don't know... being a pirate? Being a pirate is the only thing that matters to him. He says it at the end of On Stranger Tides, and he even says it in this movie, to the witch. "I'm a pirate. Always will be".

So, why isn't he pirating? What happened to him? And what about the pact with the witch? He made her curse all his enemies; that's honestly the most out-of-character thing he could've done.

Seriously, watch this movie, and then The Curse of the Black Pearl and tell me he sounds like he's the same character. Then there’s his death... was it necessary? And I don't mean if it was necessary to the plot (it wasn't), but the way he died, did it make sense? He takes the sword and sacrifices himself to kill Salazar, but WHY? Salazar was back a mortal. They could've brought him to surface and then shoot him. What was the point of his death, Disney? I will never forgive you.

I would've preferred if they never showed him again. He's alive and living his best life in Tortuga, if you ask me.

How does Carina Smyth exist?

Let's do the maths. Carina Smyth has approximately the same age as Henry Turner, who was born around nine moths after the end of At World's End. At the end of that movie, Barbossa once again stole the Black Pearl (he's iconic we stan a legend), so we have to assume it is during that time (between the At World's End and On Stranger Tides) that he conceives Carina. He stays with this woman during the whole pregnancy, bacause he says he was there when she died. So nine months, at least, right? Except; Jack makes it clear that he and Barbossa met Carina's mom, Margaret, together.

When, exactly, did this happen? It can't be between On Stranger Tides and Dead Men Tell No Tales, because Hector himself says only five years passed between the two, and Carina doesn't look like a five-year-old;

it can't be between At World's End and On Stranger Tides, because we know Jack and Barbossa weren't together, and Hector was too busy losing a leg and planning his revenge by working for the King of England; it can't be during At World's End, because Barbossa was too busy rescuing Jack and then slaying (literally and metaphorically) Beckett's men to save piracy; it can't be during Dead Man's Chest, because he was dead; it can't be during The Curse of the Black Pearl, nor during the ten years before it, because he was... he was a skeleton, I hardly believe he could reproduce, despite what’s written in some fanficions; it can't be before, of course, because Carina would be too old. The only chance, but it's a stretch, is that Hector and Jack met this Margaret Smyth years and years before, and that at a certain point (while he was still busy slaying, losing a leg or planning his revenge), for some reason he decided to come back to her and accidentally had a daughter. That would mean that Jack remembered Margaret Smyth's name DECADES after he met her.

The Post-Credit Scene: What?

WHY'S DAVY JONES BACK? The Trident technically broke all the curses of the sea. He is THE cursed man of the sea. AND HE'S DEAD. The only answer I was able to give me, is that the moment the Trident broke the curses, the curse that said if you stab his heart he dies was also broken, so he technically didn't die, but it makes even less sense, because if the curses just aren't real anymore, then a man shouldn't be able to... carve out his heart and put it in a chest, right? (Which by the way, makes Will Turner being alive senseless as well). Even if so, Davy should've come back as a human.

My conclusion is that this movie should not exist, and we, as a community, should pretend it was never made. Hector is alive. Bye.

Imago

[algae-tm]

Kill Bill P.7

Charles Leclerc x famous singer ex!reader

previous part next part

Author’s note : all the songs are real although I’ve played around with who’s featured on what, but I recommend everyone listen to the songs I’ve chosen not for any particular reason just cause they slap and I had such fun creating a playlist for this AU.

Also, I have WAYYY too much time on my hands now that uni is over… so hope you enjoy - Algae🌱

•••••

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

liked by y/bff/n, lewishamilton, charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 32,324,487 others

yourusername : ‘TIDES’ out now on all streaming platforms 💚

y/bff/n : Now you did not play me Cellophane when i listened to this earlier! Why do you have me crying in walgreens by the edamame beans??

— yourusername : girl? do you want me to come get you?

— y/bff/n : please.

— y/bff/n : HURRY UP nobody gets me started playing and the cashier is wondering why I’m using grapes to dry my tears.

user1 : y/bff/n is so real for that cause what do you mean, “didn’t I do it for you, why don’t I do it for you?” y/n please explain yourself STAT!

— user3 : no cause the most devastating part, ‘WHEN ALL I DO IS FOR YOU’ y/n I’m in your walls, how dare you start an album like that wtf?

user4 : oh okay 😀

lewishamilton : So fun collabing with you

user5 : no cause we were robbed! we should’ve had XNDA on girls need love.

— yourusername : I was not about to sing about fucking and sucking with my surrogate uncle! Even could’ve been was too much for me. y’all should be lucky I brought the old man out of retirement

— lewishamilton : glad you made that executive decision but I’m not that old :(

danielricciardo : me rn - 🎧😭🕺🪩😭😢

— yourusername : I appreciate you Danny 💚

— yourusername : but make sure you give your therapist a ring yeah?

— danielricciardo : on call with her rn!

user5 : what’s everyone’s favourite track and why is it love on the brain?

— user6 : how could you even choose?? This might be a no skip album I fear.

user8: I’m sorry y/n did not lay out the 5 minute from the heart ballad that is Ex-Factor for y’all to just not talk about it??

— user9: “no one loves you more than me, and no one ever will!” You listening Lord Perceval????

— user16: “no matter how I think we grow you always seem to let me know… IT AIN’T WORKING.”

— user13: but like if she’s trying to send a message to Charles it’s a bit disjointed no?

— user10: ex-factor isn’t to Charles Leclerc

— user11: be so fr who is it for then??

— user10: it’s obviously y/n grappling with her conflicting emotions… it’s not meant to be for Charles. This whole album is her going through it. She’s sorting thru her emotions. Are y’all dumb or stupid?

— user15: alright now

user21: AHHSHHEJSJSJSKEDVDKZKSUDJ

— user23: real.

hallebailey: call me asap for any more collabs, had such fun on Forgive Me!

— yourusername: love you hal x

— chloebailey: do not call her! She got her chance call me! (liked by yourusername)

y/bff/n: SUPERMODEL??!!?? Another one you didn’t let me listen to???

— yourusername: cause I knew you’d smack me upside the head for begging a man to see me as pretty enough.

— user24: WHO DIDN’T THINK YOU WERE PRETTY ENOUGH?! CHARLES?!! LET ME AT HIM!

oscarpiastri: on repeat 🎶

— user31: Oscar 😭 it’s giving desperate

— user26: keep commenting, she’ll reply one day!

— user27: bros talking to himself in her comments

sza: album of the year I fear

— yourusername: Solana 💚 couldn’t have done it without you

user32: @oscarpiastri are you the homeboy she’s been secretly banging like she says on supermodel?

— yourusername: I have NOT been secretly banging anyone’s homeboy! Supermodel is the only track with joint writing creds! I fear @sza came up with that lyric. (Comment deleted by yourusername)

— user34: NO Y/N let Charles think you’ve been secretly doing Oscar!

— user35: @user34 love me some psychological warfare!

landonorris: first!

— yourusername: you literally are the last person to comment😒😒

••••

Y/N Strips Off Expectations on Her New Album ‘TIDES’

R&B superstar delivers sharp barbs and haunting melodies on her long-awaited LP, amidst relationship drama with ex Charles Leclerc.

By Will Dukes

June 10, 2024

If you thought the singles released prior to the album were indicative of the direction this LP would take, think again. Y/n’s highly anticipated latest release, "TIDES," is an ambitious and masterful exploration of love's euphoria and its darker, toxic undertones. Known for her sultry R&B style, y/n transcends genre boundaries in this 15-track opus, weaving together dance, electronic, pop, and reggae influences to craft a cohesive narrative.

The album opens with "Cellophane," a haunting electronic ballad reminiscent of FKA Twigs' ethereal work. This opening track is something we’ve never seen from y/n, yet her delicate vocals float over a sparse, echoing production, setting a tone of vulnerability and foreshadowing the emotional journey ahead. This track is a stunning prologue, drawing listeners into a world where love is as fragile as the titular cellophane.

As we transition to the 3rd track of the album "Forgive Me," the album's pulse quickens. The track opens with a haunting, ethereal intro that quickly gives way to a pulsating beat and assertive bass line, setting a commanding tone. Y/n’s and Halle’s harmonies are immediately striking, blending seamlessly while each woman’s distinct vocal timbre adds depth and texture to the song. Their voices convey both strength and a sense of liberation as they sing about reclaiming their power and refusing to apologize for their choices. Mid-album, "Doo Wop (That Thing)" introduces a surprising but seamless shift. The pop-reggae rhythm provides a laid-back contrast to the preceding tracks, reflecting a momentary calm in the tumultuous relationship. Yet, y/n’s lyrics hint at something more sinister, the song can be seen as a warning, y/n clearly saying to her listeners I’ve made mistakes and here is how you can avoid them.

I won’t blame anyone for mistaking her single “Kill Bill” as the climax of the album. That is what y/n wants you to believe but the climax arrives with "Mary Magdalene" an electronic ballad that ties with the opening track “Cellophane.” For me "Mary Magdalene," is a standout, embodying the album's central themes. Drawing on the figure of Mary Magdalene, y/n reclaims and redefines her story, exploring themes of femininity, devotion, and resilience. The song's intricate layering and hypnotic rhythms create an almost spiritual experience, inviting listeners to delve into its complex emotional landscape. The production is haunting, with distorted synths and echoing beats mirroring the disintegration of trust and affection. y/n’s vocal performance here is raw and powerful, her pain palpable as she sings, "a woman’s touch, a sacred geometry. I know where you start where you end. How to please, how to curse.”

"TIDES" concludes with "Mirrored Heart," a poignant ballad that brings the narrative full circle, echoing the album’s opening. With an album so tumultuous listeners would probably wish for a sense of closure. This song does not give you that, rather you’ll be left questioning ‘what’s next.” y/n’s voice, both fragile and resilient, lingers long after the final note.

In "TIDES," y/n not only expands her musical palette but also delivers a profound and relatable story. This album is a testament to her artistry, marking her as a versatile, timeless and fearless force in contemporary music. It’s a disjointed album, songs sometimes seem out of place, but like the title “TIDES,” suggests, and given the situation that inspired the album, that is exactly the atmosphere y/n was looking to create.

••••

INSTAGRAM

charles_leclerc

Liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 1,256,712 others

charles_leclerc : best believe I’ll move on to better things

user1: do y’all hear that?

user3: not you using lyrics from y/n’s song it’s giving desperate.

user4: poor Alex

landonorris: what is bro doing lmao

user5: oh -

arthur_leclerc: if before you had a chance now you have 0 😂

— user5: oh Arthur’s messy messy

—lorenzotl: we want our sister in law back, and this idiot isn’t doing us any favours.

user6: I’m sorry this is so disrespectful to Alex. Just cause you guys broke up doesn’t mean you can do this

user7: lmao get a life

carlossainz55: cabron… this is not what we agreed you’d do 😅

lewishamilton: 😒

— danielricciardo: 😒

— georgerussel63: 😒

— y/bff/n: 😒

— francisca.cgomes: 😒

pierregasly: brother delete this 😔

— oscarpiastri: 😂

(this post has been deleted)

••

TAGLIST

@forevercaffeinated-lee @callsignwidow

[frogonamelon]

So How About the New Comic Huh?

This is going to be fanfic fuel for the next several years!!

Everything I took out of these 8 pages:

This is a different future timeline from the movies. Is this future Casey Jr from the apocalypse timeline or past timeline Cassandra's son aged 20 years? If it's the former, Cassandra doesn't have any children in the future (that we see) because...

Cassadra is alive in this timeline and has either a mowhawk or a mullet

Splinter becomes deathly sick either before or soon after the events of the movie. His death was inevitable no matter if the kraang invaded or not.

Leo goes on a multiverse hopping portal adventure?! In doing so he misses Splinter's death. Did he also miss it in the invasion future?

Future Raph still loses an arm and an eye, but neither are from the kraang invasion

Leo does not lose an arm in this timeline

Bald Mikey is inevitable, but the hair is more obviously green here (~algae~)

Frida face reveal (real not clickbait) For her not to be in the ending panel when Splinter dies, they likely never met in canon :,(

Nobody has scars from the invasion that we can see :(

Future universe is more cyberpunk, but Donnie is still in overalls. Botanical Donnie blending with unapproachable bad boy Donnie??

Characters that were casually name dropped in this comic: Armaggon, The Triceratons, actual f~cking aliens, RENET

The implications of April in her Karai possession outfit

The return of Piebald my baby my beloved

Todd is depicted as family in both timelines <3 Is he dating Draxum?? Fun uncle or third father figure? We'll never know~~

Wink and a nod at Turflydle

[demonoflight]

Throws Splatoon OCs at you. Got some Houzukis today! Pearl's dad, Rex, his older sister Rani (Pearl's aunt), and their older brother Rey (Pearl's uncle). They're rich and you know how we feel about rich people (we eat them), but these are Pearl's people so it's fine.

Not the heir nor the spare, Rex Houzuki had a lot of freedom to pursue whatever he liked, and he likes helping people. He spent many years traveling the world promoting charitable causes, only taking a 10-year break from his philanthropy to start a family. Any venture of his that isn't a charity or a non-profit, he owns simply because he loves his family dearly. Just for example, he founded Camp Triggerfish and the Inkopolis Princess League specifically because his precious eldest daughter loves camping and baseball! Pearl isn't his favorite though (or so he claims), the man is full of love. He will never stop yapping about Pearl, his lovely wife Nacre and his beloved sons Emperor and Prince (Houzuki sibling propaganda!!!). He's the proudest father and the most wifeguy of wifeguys.

Pearl's aunt Rani is five years older than her dad and more business savvy. She was a dedicated award-winning track and field athlete in her youth (her best event was the squid jump), and her love for sports and fashion combined inspired her to found Enperry. Rani is very independent and opinionated, and has always been Pearl's favorite. She lives in a lavish penthouse with five nudibranchs - each nudibranch has its own personal floor below the penthouse - and has a little adopted daughter she's doing her best to spoil sweet.

Pearl's uncle Rey is a full thirteen years older than her dad, and is the same guy Pearl pranked with a live Splat Bomb. She was 15, he was fine, and if you ask her he deserved it for being a tightass sourpuss who could stand to laugh more. His wife and sons thought it was hilarious! Rey suffers from a little bit of capitalist brainrot but the previous president of the Houzuki Group - his mom, Pearl's GamGam - is still on the company board, and prevents him from doing anything that would tar the Houzuki Group's reputation. Luckily he's more about algae-based fuel than anything more sinister.

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 4,311 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria, Post-Negan (roughly S9) Warnings: mentions of injury, gore, allusions to past trauma (no details, no specifics), MAJOR FLUFF ALERT, UNCLE DARYL WARNING Summary: Y/N knows the perfect way to distract Judith when she can’t sleep—telling fanciful stories about how she got all her scars. Eventually, word gets back to Daryl. A/N: Jude scolding grown ass Daryl is everything I needed today

Your name: submit What is this?

“Auntie.”

It was just a gentle whisper, but it sent you rocketing up in bed, your heart pounding hard. “Jude? Are you okay?”

Judith is standing at the side of your bed in her pajamas. “I can’t sleep,” she says matter-of-factly. “I miss mom and dad.”

You toss the covers away to expose the empty space beside you. “Is RJ sleeping?” you ask as she climbs into your bed. She nestles up against you immediately, facing in toward your body, her little hands reaching out for you. She nods.

“He never seems to have trouble sleeping,” she whispers. You can feel her warm breath against your neck. You smile and cover her over with the blanket.

“He’s little,” she says. “It’s easier to sleep when you’re little.” You can feel her fingers tracing the scooped neck of your tank-top.

“You’re right about that,” you agreed. “Less to worry about.”

“I worry about a lot of things,” Judith said. Her fingers moved to your shoulder and then traveled down your upper arm, following a long thin scar there.

“Do you want to talk about them?” you asked her.

She paused thoughtfully, her little fingertips still for a moment, before she shook her head. “No.”

“Okay,” you said, hugging her more tightly. “That’s okay.”

“Will you tell me again how you got this one?” Judith said, a smile already forming on her face. Her big dark eyes shown out in the dim light of your room and you smiled back. She traced the length of the long, thin scar again.

“Alright,” you said. “I was in a bar in a town out west. It was that kind of town that still had the old store shops and tumbleweeds and dust blowing down the main street. Everything just had some mysterious feeling about it. There was an old man at the end of the bar when I stopped in to get a Coke—” 

“A Coke?” she repeated skeptically. “I’ve seen you drink beer before! I’m not five.”

You gave her a pointed look, smirking a little. “Do you want to hear the story or not?” 

“Okay, okay,” she giggled. 

“So. I ordered my Coke. And since the old man looked lonely, I sat down right next to him. We got to talking. He could tell I wasn’t from there of course. It was a small town, one of the ones where you either are related to everybody or go to the same church or something. He asked me why I was there. I told him I was just passing through. I guess for some reason he trusted me, because when I stood up to leave, he slipped a folded, wrinkled piece of paper into my hand and gave me a wink.”

“What was it?” Judith asked eagerly, enthralled by your storytelling.

“I’ll tell you what it was. It was a real, honest to God treasure map.” Judith’s eyes went round and bright. “Mhm. And X marks the spot.”

“There was an X?”

“There was,” you continued. “Only problem was that it was in the middle of a lake.”

“What’d you do? What did you think was there?”

“I didn’t know, but I had to find out. So, I rented a boat. And I rented a wet suit and some SCUBA gear—” Here, Judith interrupted you with a giggle. “What’s so funny?” you asked her, trying to hide a grin.

“You don’t know how to SCUBA dive!” she said, laughing again.

You tickled her ribs. “How do you know?!” You tried to look offended. “Anyway! I got to the lake and I dropped anchor as close to the exact center as I could. I dove into the water and swam down, down, down, so deep there was hardly any light reaching me anymore. And that’s when I saw it—” you affected a mysterious whisper, “—a hulking mass taking shape as some looming darker shadow in front of me, draped with algae and layers of silt. A shipwreck.”

“Ooh!” Judith exclaimed.

You grinned. “I knew the treasure had to be inside. I swam around the ship until I found an open spot where the hull had rusted away and I slipped in. I explored until I found it—a great metal chest sitting in a small back room.”

“Open it!” she whispered excitedly.

“I grabbed the heavy lid and used all my strength to heave it open! The lid sprung wide and I pointed my flashlight inside and—” you paused dramatically.

“And?!”

“Empty,” you said.

“What?! Noooo!”

“It was entirely empty. Someone else must have found it first. Except—there was one lone coin… of heavy metal, maybe copper, in the very bottom. I grabbed it and turned it over in my hand, brushing away the muck from the detail of the carven face. It was right then when I realized I was getting dangerously low on air.”

“Oh no!”

“I had to hurry if I wanted to make it to the surface safely. I swam as fast I could, but I got disoriented in the dark and had to squeeze through a much smaller opening to get clear of the ship. A jagged piece of metal snagged into my suit and cut down my arm as I rushed out, but I made it. I surfaced and pulled myself back into my boat in a heap, the coin still in my hand…”

Judith grinned at you.

“And that’s how I got this scar,” you said, indicating the one she’d run her finger down.

She traced it again. “Last time you said you got it from training a unicorn. And the time before that it was when you pulled a bank heist,” she said.

“Really? I thought this one was from the bank heist…” you said thoughtfully, touching another scar near your collarbone. “Hmm. That’s strange,” you said, smiling at her with a knowing look. She smiled back. Her eyelids were heavy now.

“Thanks for the story,” she said, yawning.

“Anytime, bug. Are you ready to sleep now?” She nodded, and you tugged her in against you more tightly. The two of you drifted off peacefully and didn’t wake until the morning poured warm light through the curtains.

_ _ _ _ _ _

A few days later

The door to the clinic burst open and Daryl looked up to see Judith coming in with a stern expression on her face.

Daryl sighed heavily and nodded to Rosita who was patching him up. He was sitting bare-chested on a table with a cascade of blood running down one arm. “I think I got it from here,” he drawled to her.

She set down more clean bandages and supplies and Daryl immediately grabbed some gauze and pressed it to his arm. “Are you sure?” she asked, shooting a semi-amused look at Judith, who had now made her way over to stand in front of Daryl with her hands on her hips.

“Yeah, ‘m good. Thanks,” he drawled.

“Alright,” Rosita said, standing up. She touched Judith on the shoulder and shot her a smile as she paused. “You’re coming to us with RJ for dinner tonight, right?” she asked Judith. The little girl was still staring straight at Daryl with a very severe expression.

“I don’t know yet,” she said, not taking her eyes off her uncle. “It looks like I might be on babysitting duty.” Daryl rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath.

Rosita let out an appreciative laugh and shot another look back at Daryl, her eyebrows raised. “Good luck,” she said.

“Yeah, thanks,” Daryl drawled, reaching for the bottle of alcohol. He poured some onto a spare bit of clean cloth and began mopping at his arm. He hazarded a glance back at Judith. “Ya wanna say somethin’?” he asked her, a half-smile quirking one corner of his mouth up.

She shook her head and stared him down. “What have you done to yourself this time?” she demanded, crossing her arms.

Daryl let out another gruff laugh. “My bike got laid down, alrigh’? I ain’t goin’ into detail,” he said. He grabbed a roll of gauze and covered the biggest injury to his arm.

“You really need to be more careful! What would we all do if something happened to you?” she scolded him.

Daryl laughed again and shook his head. “Jude, yer ten. Would ya quit tryin’ to boss me?” he said, hopping down onto his feet. He reached for his shirt.

“Well, am I wrong?” she asked, and this time Daryl heard the real worry and vulnerability in her voice.

He froze with his shirt in his hands for a moment before hurriedly pulling it on and going to kneel down in front of her so they were eye to eye. “Nothin’ is gonna happen to me,” he drawled.

“You don’t know that. You can’t,” she countered. “Look what happened to—to—” so many names were going through her brain she didn’t know where to begin.

He gently gripped her shoulders. “Hey—Nothin’ is happenin’ to me. But even if it did, ya got a whole lotta people who love you and RJ and would take care of ya. Ya know that, right? Ya got a big family who will always look out for ya.”

She nodded, her brown eyes averted down toward the floor now.

“Alrigh’. Gimme a hug. I missed ya,” he said. Judith grabbed him tightly and didn’t let go for a long moment. He hugged her back with everything he had. Finally, she seemed to have forgiven him for getting hurt and she gave him a warm smile. Daryl returned it and straightened up, nudging his head toward the door. “C’mon. Let’s get outta here. Dog’s waitin’ outside somewhere.” Judith led the way.

“Well, what ya been doin’ since I was out, hmm? Ya been good? And RJ?” he asked as they went down the steps side-by-side.

She nodded. “Yeah. We stayed with Auntie Y/N,” she said, glancing up at him with some twinkle in her eye that made Daryl believe she knew more than she should.

And his heart started to whir even just at the mention of your name. He cleared the tightness in his throat. “Oh, yeah? Have a good time?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “But I couldn’t sleep one night, so she let me climb in with her.”

Daryl smiled fondly. That mental image was almost too much to handle. You and Judith both melted him… Shit. So much for trying to deny those feelings. “That help?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yeah.” She seemed thoughtful for a moment and a brief silence stretched. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs and glanced up at him again, squinting a little in the sun. “You know… Y/N has scars too. Kind of like yours,” she said suddenly.

Daryl’s brow furrowed and his stomach twisted. What did she mean by that? “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Judith nodded. “Lots. I ask her about them. She tells me funny stories.”

“What d’ya mean?”

“Well…” she paused thoughtfully again. “She doesn’t want to really tell me how she got them. I’m sure it’s not very nice. Maybe scary. Like how you just wouldn’t tell me why you crashed your bike. So, she makes up funny stories instead.” As usual, Judith was wise beyond her years.

Daryl nodded. “What kinda stories does she tell ya?”

“Just silly ones,” Judith said, turning onto the sidewalk and starting toward where Dog was waiting at the corner, tail wagging furiously. “Unicorns and hidden treasure and stuff. I know it’s not real, but I like it when she tells them. She does it a lot when I can’t sleep.”

“Mmm,” Daryl hummed. He nestled the side of his thumbnail in between his teeth and chewed on it anxiously. You had lots of scars. There was a lot more to you he didn’t yet know, despite all the things you’d been through with the group.

Judith ran ahead and greeted Dog happily and the two ran off down the sidewalk toward Rosita’s.

Later that night, with the kids were nestled safely in bed, Daryl bid goodnight to everyone gathered there and headed into the cool evening. Alexandria was coated in silky deep blues, and he was surprised to find that his feet had led him toward your house instead of his own apartment. He was standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking up toward the front door. There was still light inside pooling out of the front windows and he shifted nervously for one moment more before starting up the steps onto the porch and knocking on the front door.

You appeared in a moment with slightly tousled hair and a wrinkled paperback in one hand. “Daryl,” you said with some surprise, but offering a generous smile. “Welcome back.”

“Thanks,” he said, passing his coat from one hand to the other. “S—sorry, is this too late or uhh—a bad time?”

“No! No, not at all. I just wasn’t expecting you obviously,” you laughed. “Did you want to come in?” you asked, stepping back.

He chewed on his bottom lip anxiously for a moment before nodding. “Sure. Thanks,” he murmured, ducking his head as he brushed past you, almost touching as you held the door open for him. “I, uhh, I—dun really got any reason to—just thought—”

It was then that you saw the bandage on his arm and noticed that he was moving a little gingerly. “God—are you alright? What happened?” you asked. Daryl took in the look of overwhelming concern on your face.

“Ah, it’s—s’nothin’,” he said dismissively, glancing at his arm.

“Daryl—” you said again, moving around him and catching sight of some deep bruising that the bandage didn’t conceal.

“ ‘M fine. I just—had a bit of a bike crash is all… goddamn walker gore all over the road and—”

“You’d better just come in and sit down. Let me see if I’ve got any Advil or something…” You were already wandering away again before he could protest. “You’ll have to tell me all about it!” you called back over your shoulder.

Daryl could only stride after you and try to keep up. “It ain’t bad, really…”

You ignored that assertion. “I can’t find the Advil. But I did find this,” you said, holding up a bottle of whiskey.

Daryl was seated on the couch, perhaps a little stiffly from all his nerves, but at that he tilted his head. “I mean—I ain’t gonna say no,” he drawled, and you laughed. His heart jumped at the sound.

“Yeah, it looks like you had a hell of a day. You deserve it.” You poured a generous amount in two tumblers and came to sit next to him on the couch. “So. Before I make you tell me what happened, any specific reason you came by? Not that you need to have one,” you said with a smile.

Daryl took a big gulp of whiskey and exhaled at the rich burn down the back of his throat. He nodded, staring down into the bottom of his glass and the amber light coming through it. “Nah, I just wanted to come by and say thanks for lookin’ after Jude and RJ, ya know. I know Rosita really appreciated it.”

Your eyebrow quirked up. “Yeah, of course. They have their hands full with Coco anyway. And Eugene,” you joked and shook your head. “You didn’t have to come by to thank me for that. We’re family. And you know I adore them.” You sipped from your glass again.

Daryl was spinning his glass in his hands a little restlessly. “Yeah, I know. But—well, they adore ya too.” You smiled warmly and Daryl felt a flush in his chest that certainly wasn’t 100% the whiskey. “Jude—she really came down on me for this,” he said, gesturing with his injured arm, laughing dryly.

You let out an amused exhale. “I’m sure she did,” you replied, giving him a knowing glance.

“That girl may be only ten but she’s got the sass of a grown up, that’s for damn sure.”

“A girl after my own heart,” you laughed. “Alright, enough avoidance, Daryl. Tell me what happened out there.”

He sighed and shook his hair out of his eyes before drinking deeply to give himself enough courage to meet your eyes. Your cheeks were warm with a rosy hue and your eyes were bright and perceptive. He gulped. “There really ain’t much to tell. I was haulin’ ass tryin’ to get outta somewhere I shouldn’ta been and there was a bunch of—run over walkers and gore and who-the-fuck-knows what else in the road. Wheels just shot straight out sideways as soon as they hit. ‘M fine.”

He hazarded another glance at your expression. Your mouth was pouting in a soft frown and your brow was slightly creased with worry. “Jesus. I’m so glad you’re not worse off, but that isn’t nothing. Did you get taken care of properly?”

He flicked a hand dismissively. “Yeah. Rosita helped patch me up. S’fine.”

“Is this a real ‘it’s fine’ or a Daryl ‘it’s fine’? Those are two completely different categories,” you pressed.

He let out an amused exhale and shrugged. “I dunno. I dun think I get to make that call.”

“No. You don’t,” you agreed. You reached out and gently grasped his wrist, lifting his arm and turning it so you could see the bruising better. He winced as you rotated it and you stopped immediately. Your brow furrowed more deeply. “You caught a hell of a bounce.”

Daryl’s nerves were almost shot just from your fingers on his wrist. He drained the rest of his glass and nodded stoically.

You noticed and took another sip from your own glass. “More?”

He glanced over at you, considering it as you reached for the bottle again. He brushed a hand back through his hair and nervously scratched at a non-existent itch. “Uhh—I pro’bly shouldn’t…”

“Why, you got somewhere to be?” you asked him.

“No, but—”

“You wanna get out of here? Head home? It’s okay. I won’t be offended,” you laughed. “Obviously you had a long couple days out there.”

Daryl hurried to answer and refute that. “No. No, not at all.”

“Alright…” You still were giving him a questioning look.

“I just pro’bly shouldn’t drink too much ‘round ya,” he murmured, ducking his head.

“Around me specifically?” you laughed. “Daryl—what is going on in that head of yours?” You refilled your own glass with a bit more whiskey and set the bottle down on the coffee table beside his empty tumbler, where he could reach it easily if he decided he wanted another drink.

He hazarded a glance up at you, his blue eyes a little shy. “I dun wanna do or say somethin’ that—” he broke off, biting his bottom lip.

Your eyebrow quirked up again and you swallowed another gulp of whiskey. It burned and tingled on your lips. “That what?”

“Mmm,” he hummed, shrugging you off. “I dunno. Never mind,” he murmured. He was avoiding your eyes again.

You set your glass down on the table and the resounding clack was loud in the quiet of the house. “What are you worried about?” you pressed him. “Hey—look at me. It’s just me.”

A small nervous laugh escaped him, and his eyes zipped back over to yours. He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Yeah, tha’s—kinda the problem…”

You felt something change in the air at that moment. It became thick and heavy and seemed to crackle with electric tension. “I see,” you said softly. You turned on the couch so you were angled more toward him. “Can I ask you something?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, nodding.

“Can I kiss you?”

Daryl gulped. His mouth hung partially open for a moment, his brow furrowed. He was sure he’d misheard you. “…what?”

Your lips curved in a small smile. “I asked if I can kiss you,” you said plainly.

Daryl stared at you intensely for a moment. “W—why?” he managed to stammer out. Your smile widened.

“Why? Wow, I really didn’t expect to have to justify myself,” you said. “Because…” you paused thoughtfully and he watched as you pulled your plump bottom lip in between your teeth and released it again after a moment. Jesus Christ, he wanted to kiss you. Why the fuck had he asked ‘why?’ He was mentally kicking himself. “Because I have feelings for you. And I have for a long time. And somehow it just feels right to ask right now.”

“You’ve got feelin’s for me?” he repeated back blankly.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

He gulped. Was he dreaming this? Maybe he’d made it back to his apartment and collapsed into bed and this whole entire thing was in his head—you in your sweatshirt and lightly tousled hair, the whiskey, your concern about his injuries—it was all a dream. Right?

Your voice interrupted his swirling thoughts. “Do you have feelings for me? I’ve wondered that for a long time too…”

All he could do at first was nod until he could unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth where it seemed glued. “Yeah. I’ve got—I’ve had feelin’s for ya for—since practically when we first met.”

You smiled at him again, a wide bright one, and his heart leapt in his chest. “So, kiss me,” you said. Your voice was a bit breathy and your eyes happy and dewy. He still hesitated, frozen in some disbelief maybe, so you gently grabbed the front of his shirt and leaned in to press your lips to his. He could taste the bourbon on yours, and it took only a split second for him to reach for you and pull you in against him more tightly, to kiss you back eagerly and almost desperately. You hummed a small noise of pleasure and yielded to his hands and his lips. The heat between you grew and became more insistent. Daryl’s hands gripped your hips and pressed into your back, tracing the edges of your shoulder blades and curve of your spine. His fingertips found the ends of your hair and gently combed in.

Eventually the kiss slowed and became gentle and deep again, and then, suddenly conscious of the surprise that he was kissing you, Daryl pulled back and studied your face. His blue eyes fixed to yours. “This ain’t—is this just the whiskey?” he asked, suddenly self-conscious. His hands were still on you and you didn’t want them to leave. You rested one of yours over his and shook your head, still breathless from the kiss.

“No,” you reassured him. “I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

He nudged his nose up at you in a nod, still looking a bit nervous. He couldn’t look away now, afraid this whole thing would vanish.

Your cheeks were flushed pink and you laughed. “I am hot now, though,” you laughed. “And I have a feeling that’s partially the whiskey, but mostly you.” You reached for the hem of your sweatshirt and swept it off over your head, tossing it carelessly behind you on the couch. You met Daryl’s eyes again. He seemed to be almost overwhelmed. You leaned in and kissed him again, softly this time.

His hands settled on your now bare upper arms and he felt a ridge beneath his fingertips, barely visible below your t-shirt sleeve. Glancing over, he saw the end of a scar. You noticed him noticing and looked up with a somewhat unreadable expression on your face.

“Unicorn or buried treasure?” he asked.

You laughed and your cheeks flushed even more pink. “Jude told you about that, huh?”

Daryl nodded, his fingers moving lightly against your bare skin. “Yeah,” he said, the corner of his eyes crinkling in a smile. “That kind of thing? Tha’s why I started fallin’ for ya,” he drawled.

You smiled back at him, electricity running over your skin from his touch. The next moment, his face turned serious again.

“She said—” his brow furrowed and a shadow grew on his face. “She said ya have a lot of scars.”

You looked down briefly and then nodded. “Yeah. I do.”

“Well, ya already know ‘bout mine. Ya can tell me ‘bout yours when ya want to—or don’t. It dun matter to me. I already—I care ‘bout every inch of ya. Makes no difference how many scars come with havin’ you. Uhh—not that I have ya…” he stammered.

You smiled again. “Yeah, you do.” You moved into him again and rested your head on his shoulder. He could smell your shampoo and his heart fluttered at the closeness. If he did have you, he'd never let go.

[darkimpala1897]

Things Eddie has said to Wayne because he has no filter.

Eddie answering the phone it was one of Wayne's friend not knowing he had one.

Eddie: "Oh, hello sorry the dinosaurs are busy right now.

Wayne walking into the room looking at his nephew.

Wayne: "What are you doing?"

Eddie turning towards Wayne with a smile.

Eddie: "Oh wait one of the dinosaurs is here. It's for you Wayne."

Eddie hands over the phone laughing under his breath.

Wayne: "Very cute, very funny."

Wayne takes the phone shaking his head.

Eddie: "It's pretty funny, did you get it it's cause your old."

Wayne covering the mouth piece nodded.

Wayne: "Oh I got it just fine."

Eddie trying to start a conversation at the dinner table.

Eddie: "I walked into Chrissy's room once and I tripped on a bra."

Wayne putting his head down knowing what was coming, Steve had no idea.

Eddie: "It was a booby trap."

Steve trying not to laugh because that was horrible even for Eddie.

Eddie following after his uncle who was trying to escape him.

Eddie: "What is a bunch of kittens called?"

Wayne afraid of what's gonna come out of his nephews mouth still answers

Wayne: "You mean a litter?"

Eddie: "What's a litter?"

Wayne shaking his head wondering where Eddie's brain disappeared to.

Wayne: "A bunch of kittens Edward."

Wayne just trying to enjoy some peace and quiet. Eddie coming out of nowhere.

Eddie: "What did the triangle do to the circle?"

Wayne looking towards his nephew, he grumbles something under his breath.

Wayne: "Oh god here we go again."

Eddie laying on the living room floor staring at the ceiling well Wayne made breakfast.

Eddie: "I stayed up all night wondering where the sun went."

Wayne looks over the counter at his nephew wondering where he was going with this.

Eddie: "Then it dawned on me."

Wayne shaking his head, he feels like he's living with his sister all over again.

Eddie walking through the door Steve right behind him.

Eddie: "I forgot to throw a boomerang once."

Steve looking towards him confused.

Eddie: "But it came back to me."

Wayne could be heard groaning from wherever he was.

Eddie couldn't sleep so he goes and bugs his uncle.

Eddie: "What did the mermaid wear to her math class?"

Wayne who was trying to sleep looks towards Eddie.

Wayne: "I don't know what?"

Eddie: "An algae bra."

Wayne groans grabbing his pillow tempted to smother his nephew.

Eddie on a field trip, Wayne unfortunately had to chaperone.

Eddie looking a dinosaur, he points it out to Wayne.

Eddie: "Look, this one looks like a chicken."

Wayne looking at he nods agreeing.

Wayne: "Well fun fact of the day, paleontologists believed that birds came from dinosaurs."

Eddie looks towards his uncle.

Eddie: "Well look at you being Mr. Professor."

On that same field trip.

Eddie looking at the planets.

Eddie: "Hey Wayne, name all the planets?"

Wayne thinking about it for a second.

Wayne: "My very educated mother just served us nice pizzas."

Eddie blinking at him confused.

Eddie: "Are you having a stroke?"

Eddie laying upside down on the couch watching TV.

Eddie: "A backwards poet writes in verse."

Wayne wondering what he's on about now.

Wayne: "Do you even get what that means?"

Eddie shaking his head.

Eddie: "No of course not Wayne."

Eddie standing with Wayne as the upside down potals activate.

Eddie: "People are making apocalypse jokes like there's no tomorrow."

Wayne looking at his nephew with the seriously look.

Eddie: "Too soon uh?"

Eddie putting a ridiculous hat on Wayne.

Wayne glaring at him.

Wayne: "Eddie seriously?"

Eddie nods smiling.

Eddie: "It's my birthday, so it's my amazing rules and I say you have to wear the sombrero."

On that field trip I was mentioning early.

Eddie staring at a dinosaur skull.

Eddie: "That's a thick skull."

Wayne looking at it.

Wayne: "Kinda looks like Gareth."

Eddie looking towards his uncle.

Eddie: "I'm totally telling him you said that."

Wayne shaking his head.

Wayne: "Please don't. But like come on you have to agree, just catch it in the right light and boom it's Gareth."

Eddie sitting on the kitchen counter watching as his uncle packed up the Christmas decorations.

Eddie: "It's not like the guy didn't know how to juggle."

Wayne putting down the Christmas lights, wondering to himself if he could string Eddie up.

Eddie: "He just didn't have the balls to do it."

You're welcome for the qoutes we should have had between Wayne and his idiot nephew.

[invece-sto-sdraiato]

Okay sooooo update on today’s events:

Since my entire district had received an Orange Alert today, the first thing I did when I woke up was switch off most unnecessary appliances in order to conserve power.

It had rained heavily the last night already (with lighting so loud my mom said it probably touched our doorstep or something. I, obviously did not hear all that cause I’m a heavy sleeper) and it started raining again at around 9:00 am.

I did not realise it, but at one point the rain was worsening, and our maid began screaming that water had entered the house.

I ran down with my brother as fast as I could, and I started thinking fast (otherwise I would panic) and with my grandmother’s help we quickly removed anything that was on the floor, in the kitchen, the living room and quite literally most stuff on the ground floor.

Outside the water level was increasing and so was my tension, my parents were not reachable on the phone. Plus the water was so dirty (like literal algae and all that) as it had flowed all the way from the lake that’s near.

One of our neighbours happened to pass and he just helped us remove more stuff from the areas that could get wet. At that point we had to switch off the refrigerator even at the risk of food getting spoiled.

We just ended up sitting on the staircase till my mom asked my aunt & uncle to come get us. We just packed some of our shit and left. Like we couldn’t do anything about the water. We switched off the main power at least. It’s only gonna become worse by tomorrow morning, according to the news (we have a red alert tomorrow 😨)

The car is in an unfortunate state cause my mom got stuck in traffic and in KNEE DEEP water. You know that weird sound that the exhaust makes when its been half-submerged in water for 2 hours. And while we were travelling to my aunts house, an actual piece of the underside fell out (my dad’s gonna be so upset about this. he loves that car more than me probably lol)

But at least the situation isn’t as bad here. And my aunts house is in the 13th floor. There is a big chance of the roads getting cut off cause of the two major lakes here, so there’s that.

Since all means of transport have been stopped my dad can only reach home by Saturday. He can’t focus on his work either so :(

And all of this happened JUST today. Tomorrow’s the real ordeal and I’m not ready. We just left that house and came here. Who knows in what situation that entire part of the city is 🥺

[froody]

I’m so inbred. I’m inbred as hell. I don’t say this with pride, I say this because every time I start discussing genealogy or someone gets out the old family photos/documents, I learn something else that’s just bad. I’m not like uncle-niece inbred, I’m like 2nd/3rd+ cousin marrying cousin for infinity backwards throughout history forever type of inbred. Why do I bother getting so disappointed about this? I don’t know. I just have to stop and sigh every once in a while. No wonder we’re all in horrible health. My genetic pool is more like a murky algae filled fish tank.

[howlingday]

We Fight Together

Robyn: How is she taking it?

Fiona: We... We fixed up her wounds, but...

AAAAAAAAAAAAGH!

Joanna: Dammit! If she keeps smashing against the rocks, she'll reopen her wounds at a minimum, and at worst, she blows our cover and dies anyway from her wounds before we're found!

Qrow: Mm... Ruby...

..................................................................................

Ruby: (Smashing against a boulder) ARGH! DAMMIT! DAMMIT! I'M STILL TOO WEAK!

Qrow: Hey there, Squirt...

Ruby: (Stops) U... Uncle Qrow! You were there, weren't you?! You saw! You saw it! Everything's okay, isn't it?! It's all a dream! Please tell me it was all a dream!

Qrow: ...She's dead, Ruby. Yang's dead.

Ruby: No... No! YOU'RE LYING! YOU'RE-! (Chokeslammed into a wall) ACK!

Qrow: GET AHOLD OF YOURSELF!

Qrow: You just survived the world's deadliest war yet, and you barely survived by the skin of your goddamn teeth! You tried your best, but facing all those powerful enemies shook you to your core, right?!

Qrow: You're drowning in a sea of your own shame and guilt, but you need to stop your damn crying and quit thinking about what you lost! WHAT'S GONE IS GONE, AND YOU CAN NEVER GET IT BACK!

Qrow: SO WHAT DO YOU STILL HAVE?!

Ruby: (Breathing slows, Stops struggling)

Qrow: (Lets go)

Ruby: (Slides into her butt, Looks at hands)

Ruby: (Closes thumb)

Ruby sneaks into the dormroom. Weiss is looking away, studying at her desk. Reaching forward, she readies to pinch Weiss' neck. Aaaaaaaaand...

"Ruby, don't even. I'm studying right now."

Ruby: (Closes second finger)

Ruby looks up to see Blake glaring through binoculars. With a growl, she calls down to everyone. Even through the howling winds and the pouring rain, she can still hear her.

"Grimm, two hundred yards ahead!"

Ruby: (Closes third finger)

"Just you wait and see!"

Ruby watched as Jaune boasted from his perch by the lake. There was a tackle box of lures sitting next to him, rented from the boathouse close by. He jabbed a thumb to himself.

"Back home, I was the fish champion!"

Ruby: (Closes fourth finger)

"Ruby, if you keep pestering me, you won't get as much as everyone else."

Ren warned from his place at the stove. Without looking, he knew she was sneaking sugar into his recipe. She thought it would help the kelp and algae taste. Ren thought otherwise.

"Trust me, Ruby! I used to bandage up Renny all the time when we were kids! I even taught him a few things!"

Nora wrapped the gauze tight around Ruby's hand. Her fingers felt a little cold, but Nora assured that was her blood loss talking. Later, she'd verify with Ren.

Ruby: (Tears brim, Closes fist and a thumb)

"Huh? You wanna learn how to pick pockets? I guess I can teach you a thing or two."

The lessons didn't last long, but Ruby did learn a thing or two about snatching jewelry and wallets. That is, until Weiss and Ren came after her and Nora respectively. Emerald feigned ignorance, of course.

Ruby: (Closes other hands finger)

"Oh! Greetings, Ruby, my friend! Would you like to join me in my routine self-diagnostic?"

Ruby carefully backed away from her best friend. However, no was never an acceptable answer for Penny. So, taken by the hand again, Ruby was forced to think about herself with Penny. It was nice, but always ended with her feeling like she should go see a doctor.

"Do not worry, Ruby, my friend! I'll always be at my most functional for your mission!"

"Good morning, Miss Rose. Did you sleep well? A rested mind is the greatest tool in a Huntresses arsenal."

With a blink, the former headmaster of Beacon returned to his host's mind, leaving the awkward boy alone with the awkward girl. He scratched his head and blushed as she did the same, both embarrassed by the sudden shift.

"Uh, g-good morning, Ruby."

Weiss: Ruby!

Blake: Ruby.

Jaune: Crater Face!

Ren: Ruby.

Nora: Ruby~!

Emerald: Ruby.

Penny: Ruby, my friend~!

Ozpin: Miss Rose.

Oscar: Ruby.

''RUBY''

Ruby: (Opens her fingers, Closes her fingers) M-Muh team...

Ruby: (Openly sobbing, Shaking) I STILL HAVE MY TEAM! WEISS! BLAKE! JAUNE! NORA! REN! PENNY! OSCAR! EMERALD! PROFESSOR OZPIN! THEY'RE MY TEAM!

Ruby: I need to see 'em! I NEED TO SEE 'EM!

[thehistoriangirl]

The Tides Have Veiled [Sixteen]

This is the end of the third part of this story! :D A new interlude will be posted soon :3 Hope you like it!

Viktor x Fem! Reader-----/Gothic AU/Haunted Sea/---1.8K----SFW*

> MASTERLIST <- Previous // Next ->

Synopsis:  Piltover the Old has an old lighthouse that looms over an abandoned port. From the house in the wailing cliff’s edge, the lighthouse owner watches that the beacon is being lighten up each time darkness arrives, so that monsters wouldn't dare to crawl inland, or so legends say. Both buildings are haunted, maybe even the man himself, by both past and present ghosts. Surprisingly, the keeper’s work is beyond turning on the beacon every night— but the rest is on you to discover.

Chapter Summary: What does the sea want?

Tags and CW: Implied Thalassophobia | Mentions of Death (Drowning) | Ghosts | Marine Monsters (???) | Sorry for the ending AGAIN 😬 | Shit is hitting the fan y'all 😔 and you know what that means...

Taglist: @lunar-monster @local-mr-frog @bittercyder @blissfulip @ihopeinevergetsoberr @ultimateslasherfan

Sixteen: Desperate Offerings

They were wrong about the sea. Always bestowing it with human qualities this silent world doesn’t have.

Greed. Such a familiar inkling, as if humans were made to claim and take everything in their wake, yet only finding their stop once their bodies were suspended in water, lungs burning in agony. When the world they walked upon dipped into an endless abyss.

Many considered the sea greedy, and all-consuming. Its waves conquering the land and sweeping the terrestrial lives once reigning in the surface a more than considerable reason for such argument; waves being a limit humans could not surpass.

But you knew better.

It wasn’t greed—greed needed the desire to consume, to take, an inherent purpose of seeking. The sea was hungry, underwater beasts copying the nature of their master in existence and lurking, just… waiting.

It'll be all-consuming, yes, but not for a self-fulfilling search and hunt. Rather, it'd be everything left.

It was always what remained.

What would remain of you.

The freezing water bit your skin, descending your throat once you tried to scream the creeping fear out. But you couldn’t, not with the gargantuan figure suspended below you, its eyes each as big as your head. White sclera, black pupils seemingly floating in the ocean.

You were torn between surfacing, allowing your lungs mercy, and keeping your attention toward the eyes, where the currents pushed bubbles forward with unmistakable movement.

Where is Viktor? You observed the eyes, impassible, the only thing inside this dark and dead ocean surrounding you.

You resurfaced, waves lapping lazily at the toppled boat’s hull. Gone were the shiny algae contrasting neon blue against the black water, as if the lurking giant had devoured them all.

Perhaps it has taken him, too, the water hitting your ear muttered in cold, merciless succession.

To wade was useless once the waves hugged you down, anxious of having you, soaked clothes too heavy and constricted to keep you afloat.

And soon, it’ll be your turn.

The sensation of being observed loomed nearby, coming from under. You fell and floated, broken time down the water; the only living being suspended in this world built of death and salty tears.

Cold and slimy, long appendages swirled around ankles, hooks like needles prickling the numb skin of your legs. You couldn’t see it, but the eyes did see you. The eyes and its limbs pulled you down, down, down.

Suddenly, you were that kid your uncles would tell you about. Following that shiny fish until their body was surrounded by water. The monster would grab their legs with whetted hooks, slicing the tender flesh and tinting the blue waves pink until the water was dark enough that the body nor the blood could be seen anymore.

Hungry. Always hungry.

Go upwards, don’t stop looking down, you thought, aching legs kicking the ever-present water in a fleeting attempt to break into the surface. The eyes gazed back at your desperate attempt, stoic, enjoying the struggle of your mortal, terrestrial body trying to survive in this alien world.

An unfamiliar world, and yet… under all the vast expanse of darkness, the water bubbled, illuminated with familiar glimpses. How the murmur of the sea crashing ashore filled the eerie silence inside the cramped bedroom; soft hums only a loving mother could mimic. The rocking motion of the waves soothing your mind, and body already exhausted after a productive overnight fishing trip aboard your grandfather's boat.

The ocean had always been there where everything else faded.

You shouldn’t be afraid. The bodiless voice said, floating as you sink. What a twisted irony as much as it was to finally see the clear night sky just right before falling into a bottomless inkwell. Don’t fear it. Just let go.

No.

You couldn't submit to the ocean's will—at least not until you've found Viktor.

At this stage of your life, it was pointless to pledge ignorance regarding the sea’s wishes. The pull that left you petrified, obliged to gaze at the raging storms hitting the coast during autumn. All the tears cried and were taken by the waves while the bodies morphed into nothing but sea foam.

It wanted you. Perhaps all your kin; but for now, it’ll be satiated once you found your everlasting rest on the seabed; feast for scavengers, a refuge of bones while it lasted.

The cold air hit you once you surfaced, lungs burning, panting in desperate attempts to inhale as much oxygen as possible. Your oppressed chest is heavy and about to burst.

The appendages of the being slid swiftly up your ankles in a loose grasp. Barely tugging. Barely… nudging. Guiding.

Over the black waters laid the defeated boat, its hull covered with barnacles, making the surface rough and uneven under your fingertips, like another body deformed and desecrated by the sea.

You wanted this to be a nightmare, to succumb to the waves and wake up on the lighthouse’s old couch, warm and still haunted, but with him.

“Viktor!” You called, voice strained, either by the cold or the piling tears.

Because now you were alone and cold and scared in this inky, abysmal world that was starving for an offering more satiating than those left by the cliffside—vivid memories of despair and the loss of an unknown loss, a void as deep as the ocean itself.

There was no answer except for the waves moving, whispering in their ancient language, running like flicking hopes through your fingers with each wade and kick. And yet, it was only a matter of time before your body tired out, for when you’d had to relent control and float aimlessly like algae in, once again, hope the sea would carry you home.

If it even knew where it was, because you weren’t sure yourself.

The appendages loosened the grasp, untangling like an untying ribbon with barely the sensation of friction of those hooks prickling your legs.

You stopped kicking, this twisted support abandoning you, too.

You floated, eyes closed to hear what the sea wanted to tell you. What it wished you to do.

Black sea; navy sky. It was you and the boat, the crippling cold burrowing inside your bones, claiming shivers from your lips already.

You wondered who would take you first, if cold or sea.

As if answering, the swaying waves started covering your body in the biggest, darkest dress ever conceived. First ankles, slowly creeping its way through thighs and torso. Soft sways, like a dance, an intimate embrace. You raised your view to the sky one last time, ears filled with the waves’ language until your head got covered by it, too.

Without the panic building chaos inside your mind, you stayed still and waited. Hearing the echo of this world, each whisper of water current like a whisper of running wind. All black, but not empty.

Not anymore.

The creature was still there, water bubbling and displacing when it swam toward you, both suspended and both gazing, even if all you could see were its gigantic eyes fixated on you.

You shouldn’t be afraid.

Drowning was deemed for you as a terrible form of dying; just the thought of this unwelcomed element conquering its way through those channels on your body that weren't meant for water. But you've heard stories.

How the water calmed you once oxygen had run out, how mermaids seduced before lounging. How the ocean kept swallowing you without you even noticing you were moving.

Don’t fear it.

This. Was this the same your mother felt? The oppression on your chest settled into a mere ghost, blurry vision clearer than ever, seeing dozens of forms lurking nearby to watch your demise.

Perhaps this destiny had been written of the sand, perhaps you’d been too distracted in nimieties to catch it before the tide swept the shoreline.

Just let go.

You looked down at your witnesses; at the tall giant that gazed at you still. Chin high and rigid hands balled in fists.

Let him go. And take me instead.

He may be your cursed husband as much as you were his cursed wife—his end may be on land, inside the lonely walls of the grey house by the cliff.

You opened your mouth in the primal reflex of gathering air. Fire entered your veins, tears mixed in with the salty seawater, finally arriving down your being, and filtering through bloodstream, flesh, and bones.

If the ocean had always been home and shelter, prison, and origin; did it matter that you end here? Like this? If the sea was so jealous of letting you go, what better end than this?

Away from the perpetual rain and the ever-present mist, of hunting ghosts and failed families.

With the sea you could be free.

Black waters broke into an eerie, dreamy world of vivid navy and mossy green. You were enveloped by the waves, but you could now understand their words as they tangled around you, pulling down while suspended in time. The echo of deformed ripples ran through your ears, eyes locked with those of the creature.

A blood-red squid so big you couldn’t take in its whole size, tentacles sinking deeper into the abyss where the darkness and the sand blocked visibility.

The knowledge bestowed you with courage, extending one of your hands toward the magnificent being, only to find them morphed. Unfamiliar.

They were the hands of a monster.

They’re all ghosts, the squid seemed to tell you, but it could’ve been the sea itself, the disembodied voice coming from everywhere. Just as the silhouettes came from everywhere, slowly rising toward you. Just like me. Just like you.

Where once was all but water, you saw bodies, all of them bloated and deformed, barely human, and yet, you knew that only a human spirit could be stubborn, vengeful enough to force themselves to remain. Even here, where they would never belong.

The squid looked at you, almost pitifully.

We’re all but ghosts.

There was no time to fear nor react once they grasped you. Their icky touch, slimy and soft, too soft, swarmed you. An entire graveyard claiming another victim.

That sensation of oppression on your chest returned. That human instinct to survive.

I won’t be one of them. You gazed at them, empty sockets still locked into your face, as if somehow, they could recognize you like the one the sea longed for. Not yet.

You had to see Viktor again. Even if it was only to say goodbye. You needed to know if the sea could fulfill its pact.

Consciousness started slipping off your grasp, vision darkening at the edges like a damaged photograph, drenched in water that had made the coloring run off in amorph shadows, creating faceless people and erased backgrounds.

Then, you heard the voices—low hums, haunting chants.

The sea shifted once the mermaids came, yet you only could catch a glimpse of blue and green tails and grey skin. You wanted them to sing you a lullaby before your lungs gave up.

Then you were claimed by the sea.

[little-annie]

Licorice Ice Cream | Little_Annie

—--

It was just any other Saturday afternoon in the Forest Hills Trailer Park. Dogs barking, kids screaming, some fat drunk guy laid out on his lawn in nothing but suspiciously stained gitch. It was the furthest thing from nice, but it was familiar.

As was the absolutely sweltering trailer that surrounded Eddie as he laid in a puddle of his own sweat on the kitchen floor. It was the coldest surface he could find, what with the AC dead and any fan in the tin can he called home busted.

Much like the drunk laying on his lawn across the dirt road, Eddie was in his gitch, though, his were perfectly clean, thank you very much. Maybe just a wee bit sweaty is all.

Okay. Ick.

Anyways, gist of the story is: It's summer in Indiana and it's fucking hot.

And Eddie's van is broken down because of course it is, so he can't go anywhere that actually has AC until Wayne gets home and it's not like he's fucking going outside to 'catch a nice breeze' in the meantime. No thank you.

So yeah, Uncle Wayne needs to get home.

Which is in hmmm, t-minus 34 minutes and 26 seconds. You know, according to Eddie's watch, because yes, he's counting down the seconds until he can get out of Satan's literal asshole.

Fuck this Indiana heat, man.

Eddie didn't hate it as much when he was a kid; running through the sprinklers, climbing enormous trees, jumping into the algae ridden quarry, but now?

Now, he despises it. He loathes it.

He'd rather saw off his own dick and throw it to the Owlbear's than suffer another day sweating his nonexistent tits off in this trailer.

But

That's ever so slightly fucked up and really, Eddie loves his dick and could never imagine his life without it. He appreciates it. All however many inches of it. Even though some days it likes to say a 'hello' at some very inopportune times.

Like that time Billy Hargrove grabbed the collar of his shirt and slammed him against the lockers.

Or you know literally anytime he actually attended gym class.

Or that one mortifying time he had to get something from Jeff's locker, only to learn Steve Harrington's was directly below it and apparently the man had no concept of personal space. Just said a shy 'scuse me' and dropped to his knees, only to look up at Eddie with pig pretty puppy dog eyes and have the damn audacity to look like that. Fuck. Yeah, Eddie Jr. liked that very much.

Anywho.

He's here, pale, sweaty skin sticking to the lukewarm linoleum and toast crumbs on the kitchen floor, refusing to think about the fact that his Uncle's nasty ass old man feet slap across it every morning when he makes breakfast.

Eddie shudders at the mere thought he was trying to avoid.

Then checks his watch.

32:16 remains

Jesus fuck.

Well, maybe while he's here he can do something productive, like….like count what he can see of his Uncle's coffee mug collection?

Eddie's eyes blur as he wipes sweat from his brow and tries to focus on the ceramics lining the wall across from him.

'CAUTION, be sure BRAIN is engaged before putting MOUTH in gear'

'I'd rather be having a beer!'

'Wyoming. Less people. Less Problems."

'Have a nice poop'

'#1 Dad'

'Life's like a stripper, you can ……

—

Eddie swears he blacked out for a minute because, the next time he opens his eyes, it's to a very amused Uncle Wayne standing above him and a dusty steel toed boot nudging him in the ribs.

Wayne smiles down at him, all sweet with his tobacco stained teeth while he asks, "Wanna go to the mall kid?"

And well, let's just say, if Eddie could move that fast regularly, maybe he wouldn't have had so many 'heart to hearts' with Chief James Hopper over the years about his 'troubled youth' and how it led to his 'drug dealing business.'

Wayne hardly has a chance to suck in a breath after his question before Eddie's barreling down the hall to his room for a change of non-sweaty gitch and clothes.

It's when Eddie's pulling on a pair of black cutoffs that he hears Wayne yell down the hall, "Don't forget pit stick boy! If you've any chance with the men in this town, you least should try not smellin' like Hank's ass!"

Hank being the nearly naked fucker passed out drunk on his lawn across the way.

Eddie can hear Wayne snickering to himself in his old man huff of air way from down the hall as he calls back a laughing, "Fuck you old man!"

Receiving a "Love ya too Ed!" in response.

—

Not twenty minutes later and Eddie finds himself sighing in relief as he enters Starcourt mall. The air's frigid, his skin pricking delightfully into goose flesh with every nonsensical stride he takes.

He has nowhere in mind, purely wandering this cesspool of forced conformity and capitalism for the pure enjoyment of free air conditioning.

Soon enough Wayne finds himself a spot nearest the fountain, a screaming child to his left and a bitchy mother to his right. Though he seems none the wiser as he basks in the delightfulness of cool air around him, tipping his hat low and crossing his hands over his stomach, assuming his position for an apparent public nap.

Crazy old fucker.

Although capitalism is the actual devil and forced conformity is its ugly brother, Eddie can't help but feel the pull in his bones to at least check out the art supply shop.

Sue him. He wants to get more minis to paint for his upcoming campaign.

So that's how Eddie spends his time in the mall. Staring at tiny ceramic figurines, trying to come up with ways he can carve them down or add to them with modelling clay to make them further appear as NPCs from his rapidly building campaign.

Well and if he flirts with the guy behind the counter because he's giving off serious vibes, sue him twice.

It sure didn’t seem like Mr. Blue Eyes With A Pink Hanky in His Left Pocket, minded all that much.

All fluttery lashes and rosie cheeks.

—

The mall's twenty minutes from closing when Eddie goes searching for Wayne.

You'd think it'd be easy to find a 5'11, grumpy looking, old white man wearing blue jeans and a grey t-shirt in an Indiana mall.

Hah.

Yeah only half the population of said mall.

Much to not Eddie's surprise, Wayne had left his original post, probably in search of food, leaving a much rounder middle aged man to take his previous position.

Though they weren't technically father and son, Eddie can see a lot of himself in Wayne. Especially the constantly hungry and always needing to be moving aside from a fifteen minute power nap side of himself.

So, in order to find Wayne, Eddie just thinks of where his 56 year old self would have wandered off to. Food, being the most likely contender.

There's a steak house on the opposite end of the mall where Wayne could have possibly gone for a beer.

A pizza place where Eddie knows they serve Wayne's favourite pie by the slice daily.

A Diner with arguably the second best milkshakes in town, the first being Benny's on highway 6.

And finally, Scoops Ahoy, the most likely of the candidates.

If Eddie were a 56 year old, grumpy fucker, wearing blue jeans and a grey t-shirt, who just got off a 12 hour shift, is sweating his balls off, brought his pain in the ass nephew-son to the mall and just woke up from a fountain-side nap, yeah, he'd probably think about being balls deep in some strawberry ice cream too.

To Scoops Ahoy it is!

Trying not to trip on the ample amount of crotch goblins stomping through the mall, Eddie eventually makes his way to the ice cream shop. Seeing Wayne's salt and pepper hair through the front window amongst many other heads, Eddie opts to grab a seat outside due to the frankly sickening amount of patrons inside.

Not five minutes later does Eddie hear a playful shout of his name come from inside. His head snaps up to see Wayne tapping the glass that'd been facing Eddie's back a second ago. There's a calloused finger waving Eddie in as Wayne continues to speak to him through the glass, "I'm at the till kid, ya want anything?"

Um. Yeah. Does a Wererat shit in subterranean tunnel complexes beneath cities?

(The answer is yes. According to the Dungeons & Dragons 1st Edition Monster Manual.)

When Eddie pops his head into the shop it's not nearly as busy as it was a few minutes ago, most patrons probably grabbing a cone and dipping out before the mall closes.

But, to Eddie's surprise, as he reaches the counter, popping over Wayne's shoulder to take a peek at the menu, he sees the most glorious thing to grace this God forsaken planet.

To say Eddie's heart falls out of his ass in that moment is an understatement.

You see, they haven't been to the mall yet this summer, money's been tight, the weather hasn't been unbearable and they have more important things to spend their cash on.

But today, today is a different story. Eddie's sure he would have died of heat exhaustion had he stayed in that damn trailer any longer and both he and Wayne have been working extra shifts to round up some extra coin.

Coin, that they can spend on ice cream.

Coin, that along with Eddie's heart and jaw hit the floor at the site of Steve fucking Harrington in a sailors costume.

Because you see, if it wasn't for today Eddie would have never had the chance to see this. All five foot, eleven inches of pure American standing like a clip out of Playgirl in probably the sluttiest shorts Eddie has ever seen.

Not to mention the tight ass and chiselled thighs to boot.

Eddie's never believed in God, but after today, you might just find him worshipping at the altar or more likely confessing to father about the things Steve Harrington's bare legs are making him feel.

He's gobsmacked. Absolutely flabbergasted. Downright thunderstruck.

And he's definitely not going to go into detail about where his mind has wandered to in the moments he's begun to drool down his chin and hear "I Want to Know What Love Is" by Foreigner play in the background of his preoccupied pea brain.

"Ed."

"Son"

Oh shit.

"Huh?" He gulps, wiping his chin with the bottom half of his copped tank, eyes trying to refocus on the menu and not the Adonis standing with his gams out mere feet away.

"Steve here was asking if you wanted anything."

Eddie grits his teeth and blurts the first thing his eyes land on, "Licorice."

"Cup or cone?" Steve asks sweetly like Eddie's not having to fight off a stiffy by repeating 'dead puppies, Vietnam War, Wayne's had sex before,' like an anti public boner mantra.

"He'll have a cone." Wayne answers for him while crouching to pick up the change Eddie had dropped earlier, pinching his nephew's pale ankle in the process in hopes of bringing him back to life.

"Yep." Eddie agrees dumbly, voice nearly cracking with nerves.

And then for a moment it's definitely worse because fucking Steve 'Ass Sculpted by Michelangelo' Harrington turns around and bends over. Eddie's surprised he doesn't have a coronary. Or his eyes bulge out of his skull. Or he just like, fucking, fuck, he doesn't know, spontaneously combusts or some shit.

What the fuck is life right now?

Then he hears that old man huff of a laugh off to his left. Uncle Wayne.

Eddie's neck nearly breaks at the speed he turns his head to meet the sly smirk of his old man. He's never stared daggers so intensely into Wayne's soul as he is now.

All fire and brimstone and death and 'Jesus christ shut up old man.'

But Wayne continues to huff like the bastard he is.

Fucker.

But like, Eddie still loves him and is eternally grateful for everything the man has done and sacrificed for him over the years, even as he flips him off while the man continues to laugh.

Then there's Steve's buttery smooth voice that breaks him out of his death stare, "Will that be everything?"

Eddie just stares as his eyes finally meet Steve's, or well, actually his lips, but close enough.

God they look good, pink and plush, kissable, fuckable, come-on-able. Oof, Jesus he needs to get out of here.

Eddie's dick twitches behind his denim at the thought and before he can even grab his ice cream, he's fucking hightailing it out of there like a weirdo and squeaking out a pathetic excuse of a "thanks."

A whole minute later Wayne finds Eddie sitting on a bench out of view from the ice cream shop windows, pouting, lip out, brows furrowed and arms crossed. He joins him with a shit eating grin as he chuckles, "The Harrington boy huh?"

"No." Eddie answers defensively and rather quickly, not bothering to spare Wayne a glace.

It's quiet for a moment, then Eddie hears Wayne from beside him, "Didn't know you liked Licorice."

Eddie huffs, taking the cone from Wayne's grasp with a grumbled, "I don't."

[reallyprofoundkryptonite]

Jotting down for design purposes but ANYWAYS. Old man Krogan.

His design is changing. Giving him longer hair because it fits him. Mainline we are reintroduced to him by Hiccup and Astrid’s (completely naive) 15 year old daughter who just thinks the old man with the pretty silver hair and the tabby stripes (and a little bit pf an attitude, to be honest.) is just very lonely. But he doesn’t mind her presence, actually. He might be mostly blind but he is very strong and turns out to be one of her few closest mentors when it comes learning archery and practicing things her parents would never teach her.

Zephyr wonders how Krogan has such a sure shot, how he is able to pick out weak spots in an animals hide or body, even though he is blind, and he reminds her that while hunting she needs to rely on her other senses rather than just sight. You will hear a potential predator coming far quicker than you will see it, after all.

Anyways, something something Krogan becomes the Haddock family’s weird uncle/grandpa who just so happens to live in the woods and has an odd obsession with fireworms and flightmare algae.

[u5an5]

Of things obtained: Once Upon a Witchlight Ep. 32 | A Feast for Frogs

<- Previous | Masterlist | Next ->

.

! Fair warning, this post contains SPOILERS. If you don't want to be spoiled, STOP READING !

.

Gricko

Languages: Common, Goblin, Gigant, Druidic, Sylvan?

Class: Druid, Circle of Primal Spirits (Reflavoured Circle of Stars with focus on Monstrosities instead constellations)

Title/s: Splop, the Green Baron (by King Gullop XIX; ep.27)

Abilities: -3 spell slots;

In possession from beginning:

Primal totems (Gorilla, Rook, Toad; ep.1)

Alarm whistle (ep.1)

Ocarina (ep.2)

Glue dropper bottle (ep.3)

Eyedrops bottle (ep.3)

Peanut butter jar (ep.10)

banañas (ep.12)

Can of WD-40 (ep.19)

Wooden carved pocket watch (ep.20)

Cool hat (ep.26)

Items acquired:

Bag of 603 gold pieces (couldn't find it; ep.1)

Cloak of Displacement (ep.1)

Magic Face Paint (Disguise Self 1h; ep.6)

1 ticket to Witchlight Carnival (gained due Fey Pact) 2/8 (ep.7)

Witchlight wine (ep.7)

Cuddly toy spider (Spider Climb; ep. 8)

Glove puppet wizard (Illusion 3/3; ep.8)

Wooden wand (Prestidigitation 8/8; ep.8)

Blue ribbon "I dropped a beat on the Carnival street" (ep.8)

5x fridge magnets (ep.12)

Rocky Talkie (ep.14)

Mouse Harness (ep.15)

Bag of leeches full of Witchlight (ep.25)

Trinkets:

Golden Bell (ep.20)

19 - Vitrified eye of a displacer beast (ep.23)

36 - Rock that floats and is small enough to hide in your closed fist (ep.23)

23 - Ball-and-cup toy that plays a short, victorious jingle whenever the ball lands in the cup (ep.23)

55 - Mask that helps you remember your dreams if you wear it while you sleep (ep.23)

65 - Tiny wooden lute with cat hairs for strings (ep.23)

Things lost:

Joy from recieving best gift he was given (his first bone harp from Uncle Glorbo) (ep.17)

His greatest joke (ep.29)

Clothes:

Pacts/contracts:

No ticket - after giving away his ticket to Gideon, due to The Rule of Reciprocity, his most prized possession (Hootsie) was taken away from him by Sowpig (ep.5)

With Mr Light - If Gricko was to stop talking and leave immediately he would make sure to get Snail Number Two to Gricko; Gricko did not and he might've been just humoring him to get rid of him faster (ep.16)

Fear: Groblin (2D beings in general; ep.12)

Hootsie

Trinkets:

90 - Set of false wooden teeth (ep.23)

Clothes:

Ugly yuletide sweater (ep.29)

.

Gideon

Languages: Common, Primodial, Sylvan?

Class: Fighter, Chain Brawler (Reflavoured Rune Knight)

Title/s: Mundlemud, Earl of Swampgunk (by King Gullop XIX; ep.27)

Abilities: -Produce Flames

In possession from beginning:

Engineered manacles (ep.5)

Cigar (ep.10)

Really tiny notebook (ep.11)

Really tiny spectacle (ep.11)

Flask (ep.22)

Items acquired:

3 letters from Mr. Roslov (ep.1; they did NOT read it)

x5 Magical Invisibility Cupcakes (ep.3)

162 gold pieces (ep.7)

Wooden wand (Prestidigitation 8/8; ep.6)

1 ticket to Witchlight Carnival (gained due Fey Pact) 3/8 (ep.7)

Cuddly toy spider (Spider Climb ep.7)

Letter from Mrs Witch & Light (ep.8)

x2 Cuddly toy spider (Spider Climb; ep.8)

Pixie dust (ep.8)

Wooden wand (Prestidigitation 8/8; ep.6)

Blue ribbon (ep.8)

Forlarrens Remorse [dagger] (ep.15; given to Kremy for Electrum Chef)

1 banaña (ep.16)

"Engineering for Fae Dummies 101" in sylvan [book] (ep.19)

Remains of Agdon Longscarf's ear (ep.22)

A letter from Bavlorna

A folded piece of waterlogged parchment with bits of algae cacked to it. At its back there is visible a green wax seal with a hourglass stamped onto it. It says that Bavlorna is looking forward to dinner with the Krew the following evening. It contains a small map of Downfall with directions towards a place called Watchtower at the oppoite edge of the Downfall itself. Krew is expected to be there by the equivalent of 9pm prompt where she will send a traveling bucket down the clothline to bring them to her cottage. She asks that, should they choose to show up, they think up and come up with their hearts desire

Trinkets:

17 - Sheet of music that goblins find upsetting when they hear it played or sung (ep.23)

76 - Collection of baby teeth in a tiny wooden box (ep.23)

40 - Wax candle that roars and crackles like a bonfire while lit (ep.23)

45 - Bar of soap that smells like something memorable from your childhood (ep.23)

3 - Silver hand mirror with a nymph-shaped handle (ep.23)

28 - Tiny clockwork dragonfly that slowly beats its wings (but can't fly) when wound up (Gideon has seen schematics for this exact dragonfly at the end of his book; ep.23)

73 - Nunchaku sized for a pixie or sprite (ep.23)

Things lost:

Joy from recieving best gift he was given (A silver comb from Kremy; ep.17)

His rythm in his step (ep.29)

Clothes:

Pacts/contracts:

Marriage - He has to get married to Taxie after asking her to marry him in exchange for a ticket for Frost. Additionally, Frost, as show of gratefulness, will do at least one nice thing for him each day and fulfill one bigger favour once every two weeks. (ep.14) Due to him and all betrothed signing Kremy's contract he became a sole husband to all three Bixie, Zaxie and Taxie and due some additional fine print he had to marry Kremy too (ep.15) (In next 7 days, if he's 30 feet or less from people he married he gets one +2AC for each of them)

Clown kill manslaughter count:

Chuckles the Clown - after being punched in body by Gideon, which broke every rib he had, laughed himself to death (supposedly he was already dead by this time due crippling alcoholism; before the campaign)

Klutzy the Clown - got hit by Gideon throwing Impossibal at incredible speeds directly into his face. The actual supposed cause of death was deadly allergy to unspecified ingredient/s in this processed not-meat sludge (ep.6)

Bumbo the Clown - Tripped and fallen directly onto Gideon's sword hand puppet, completely running him through. Was allergic to felt, he hit the ground and he died. (ep.9)

Thaco the Clown - Was deadly allergic to peanuts and ate an unlabeled peanut butter pie that Gideon chose for his wedding. It took over 1 hour for anyone to notice (ep.15)

.

Kremy

Languages: Common, Draconic, Bullywug, Sylvan?

Class: Warlock, Death Loa Patron (Reflavoured Undead patron)

Title/s: Augluth, Pondflower Knight (by King Gullop XIX; ep.27); Electrum Chef Winner

Abilities: -1 1lvl spell slot

Outside of battle Suggestion spell functions for him as a cantrip

In possession from beginning:

Tophat

Skull Cane

2 gold pieces (ep.1)

at least 2 handkerchiefs (ep.3)

Compact mirror (ep.4)

Frying pan (ep.4)

Knife (ep.4)

Bacon grease (ep.8)

Cigarettes (ep.10)

Cigarette holder from Gideon (ep.17)

Pocket watch (ep.20)

Canteen (ep.20)

Items acquired:

Satchel with Carnival map and Three Rules of Feywild (ep.2)

Packet of pixie dust

Stuffed Almiraj plushie from Gideon (Minor Illusion 3/day)

1 ticket to Witchlight Carnival (gained due Fey Pact) 2/8

45 gold pieces

A replica unicorn horn filled with candy (ep.7)

A replica unicorn horn filled with candy (ep.8)

Bright orange ribbon "consolation prize" from Torbek (ep.8)

Pinecone Pug plushie x2? (ep.12)

Pinecone Pug backpack (ep.12)

Gricko's teeth (ep.12)

Frost's fingernails (ep.12)

x3 Toffie (ep.13)

Fist sized cup made from snail shell (ep.14)

Great Fiddle (ep.15)

Satchel of human bones (ep.18)

Duke Ickrind's message (ep.25)

Real unicorn horn (ep.29)

Forlarrens Remorse [dagger] from Gideon

Vial with 1 drop of Witchlight from Torbek diluted with moonshine, half used up

Electrum Chef Winner medal

Trinkets:

34 - Fake Three-Dragon Ante card depicting a faerie dragon (he put it on his tophat beside his other two cards) (ep.23)

94 - Tasseled wine charm shaped like a sprite (ep.23)

49 - Piece of parchment bearing a child's drawing of an oni (ep.23)

100-sided die the size of a plum, cut from coal (ep.23)

1 - Cookie cutter shaped like a unicorn (ep.23)

Things lost:

Joy from recieving best gift he was given (cigarette holder from Gideon; ep.17)

Color of his eyes (ep.29)

Clothes:

Outfit - Full Chef's outfit with his name embroidered on his breast pocket with (ep.31)

Magical Belt (ep.31) 3/d

Pacts/contracts:

Due possessing unspecified knowledge he didn't pay for when he "abandoned his station" has to deliver 100,000 gold pieces to Mr. Garou by the end of the month as recompensation. If he's no longer able to do so by dying, the rest of the Krew is obligated to pay it (ep.1)

Marriage -Due making his contract with his betrothed he was able to transfer it onto Gideon and also marry him himself. (ep.15) (In next 7 days, if he's 30 feet or less from people he married he gets one +2AC for each of them)

Fear: Remy Garou and his debt to him (ep.12)

.

Frost

Languages: Common, Celestial, Elvish, Sylvan?

Class: Sorcerer, Mystic Mind Origin (Reflafoured Aberrant Mind)

Title/s: Grumple, Count of Bogbottom (by King Gullop XIX; ep.27)

Abilities:

Due to a close bond between the Krew, he can communicate with the rest of the party at will unlimited number of times (somewhere before 16th ep)

In possession from beginning:

Backpack (ep.2)

Glue (totally not related to horses; ep.3)

Tambourine (ep.3)

Water skin (ep.3) full of Oasis Water (ep.20)

Small dagger (ep.4; given to Twig for Electrum Chef)

Peanut butter jar (ep.10)

Peanut M&M's (ep.11)

Ball of yarn (ep.11)

Buttons (ep.13)

Crowbar (ep.18)

Towel (ep.20)

Water skin full of Oasis Water (ep.20)

x5 vials full of Oasis Water (ep.20)

10ft pole (ep.21)

Ball of thread and a needle (ep.22)

Items acquired:

Letter to Zybilna by Madrik Roslov (ep.1)

Bag of Beans (ep.1) -3/?

1 gold piece

Morning Frost license plate (ep.12)

Pack of pixie dust (ep.12)

Sky blue T-shirt three sizes too small with "Bird Chad" on it (ep.12)

1 ticket to Witchlight Carnival (gained due Pixie Pact) 0/8 (ep.14)

Teapot & pack of Scatterleaf tea (ep.14)

Killmoulis Spectacles (ep.15)

Wand of the Pact Breaker 3/3 (ep.15)

1 banaña (ep.16)

A Letter to Duke Ickrind (ep.25)

15 - Spell scroll of an 8 (ep.29)

Disspelling dust 3/3 (ep.29)

Trinkets:

64 - Piano key carved from a satyr's horn (ep.19)

6 - Tiny pair of sharp, iron scissors (ep.19)

68 - Wooden pan flute that attracts harmless local fauna when played (ep.23)

25 - Silver fork with the outer tines bent sideways (ep.23)

9 - Chess piece shaped like a dancing satyr wearing a bishop's hat and clutching a gnarled staff (ep.23)

63 - Black executioner's hood sized for a pixie or sprite (ep.23)

74 - Copper coin with a smiling satyr's face on one side and a satyr's skull on the other (ep.23)

54 - candle that can never be lit (ep.28)

Things lost:

Joy from recieving best gift he was given (a signaling whistle from Gricko; ep.17)

An ounce of his fear (ep.29)

Clothes:

Duke Ickrind's Brooche pinned to his chest (ep.25)

Pacts/contracts:

Pixie Ticket Pact: In exchange for Gideon marrying Taxie to get him his ticket, he will do at least one nice thing for Gideon each day and one bigger favour once every two weeks; not as much pact as bros wanting to be fair (ep.14)

Fear: Being alone, being the last one standing and going insane, being left out (ep.12)

.

Torbek

Languages: Common, Goblin

Class: Blood Hunter (Presumably tweaked Mutant)

Abilities: 1x Dimmension Door spell (ep.23); 1x free nat20; (ep.28); -1lvl of exaustion (disadavantage on ability checks; ep.31)

Title/s: Brigand Prince of Prismeer (by conquest; ep.22); Ribble, Knight of the Pickledfly (by King Gullop XIX; ep.27);

In possession from beginning:

Old Witchlight Carnival ticket 1/8 (ep.20)

Filthy Sack (ep.20)

Items acquired:

Bloodstained blue scarf (ep.23)

Small brass whistle (ep.28)

A Book (ep.29)

Knights standard ribbon

Trinkets:

50 - Tiny hourglass without sand in it (ep.23)

71 - Wooden apple painted blue (ep.23)

82 - Petrified robin's egg (ep.23)

39 - Vial of viscous liquid labeled "Fomorian spit. Do not drink!" (ep.23)

64 - Piano key carved from a satyr's horn (ep.23)

Clothes:

Contraption - A big contraption consisting of weird fey machinery and containers with liquid Witchlight embedded into his flesh on his back. It cannot be removed and it activates due unknown trigger, turning him into a feral beast (ep.19)

.

Twig [NPC]

Languages: Common, Sylvan

Class: Warlock (most likely with an Archfey patron)

Abilities:

In possession from beginning:

Acorn Satchel (ep.20)

Inn at The End of The Road shrunk down and kept in the Satchel (ep.20)

Items acquired:

Sterling silver comb from Gideon {Inn} (ep.19; given to Twig as payment)

Signaling whistle from Frost {Inn} (ep.19; given as payment)

Ball of red yarn from Frost {Inn?} (ep.20)

Trinket Ledger (ep.23)

Frog key to Morgort's cage

Bundle of Sticks (after dismantling it, it revealed that inside it is)

Mysterious Wand (ep.29)

Small dagger from Frost (ep.31)

Trinkets:

Wooden mouse figurine that squeaks when squeezed (ep.23)

Set of false wooden teeth x2 (ep.23)

Tiny beehive (literal hive of bees) wig made for sprites or pixies (ep.23)

Tiny wooden stool (sized for a pixie or sprite) that gives splinters to those who hold it if they're not an owner (ep.23)

Clothes:

A cute ruffled apron with "Twig - Sue Chef" embodiered on it (ep.31)

. .

Krew (The Party)

In possession from beginning:

2 gold pieces (ep.1)

Items acquired:

5 gold pieces (ep.2; for street-performing)

Wand of the Pact Breaker 3/3 (ep.15, currently in Frost's possession)

Duke Ickrind's Brooche (ep.25; currently in Frost's posession)

Charm of the King (ep.27)

A letter from Bavlorna (curently in Gideon's possession)

A small wooden chest

Inside it there are knights standard ribbons, with their ribbons in green and yellow stripes attached to a beautiful platinum medal with a large fly on it, with "Honorable of the King" inscribed bellow it; A symbol of Kings friendship with them.

Pacts/contracts:

With Madrik Roslov: In exchange for checking if Zybilna is alright, and if true, giving her the letter he wrote, Party will get what is left from his possessions once he passes away (ep.1)

With Diana Cloppington: In exchange for riddle concerning Prismeer, with knowledge and information she was able to store about current state of it in it, Party promises to, at least, attempt to help her return to human and be reunited with Sir Cloppington; Not really Fey Pact but on their rules (ep.2)

With Palasha & Candlefoot: In exchange for bringing Candelfoots voice back they pledged allegiance with Krew and promised to come and help them if they ever need them; not as much pact as keeping true to Third Rule (ep.13)

With Clapperclaw: In exchange for retrieving their head they will transport Krew to Tither (ep.23)

With Sir Talivar: upon receiving the message wit the key to his cage he's obligated to organize an audience with Titania, queen of Summer Court for Krew (ep.24)

Altered states:

Boon of Willa the Wisp [effect]: (ep.17; most likely not active by this time)

(All) - the Boons recipient gains a d4 and can at any time within next 24 hours roll this die and add a number rolled to one ability check, attack roll or saving throw made by it.

New rule - They can do 3 Twists of Fate to cancel out 1 Twist of Dread (ep.18)

Twist of Fate curses:

Twist of Dread curses (by DM):

(Frost) 9 - Now is the time to pitch your new company idea (taper tots) [01:43:25 - 02:01:10]

(Kremy) 16 - As a CEO you'd like to offer an appology; you are very sorry for whats happened [01:46:25 - 02:00:35]

(Gideon) 7 - You'll do whatever it takes to get the job done; the means justify the ends [01:47:45 - 01:59:30]

(Torbek) - You find an empty paper towel tube. Neat. [01:48:45 - 02:00:55]

(Gricko) 8 - You begin to describe everything you see like David Attenborough in a nature documentary [01:50:00 - 02:01:05]

(Twig) - Your character now would rather be doing than anything else is watching a '99 film The Mummy [02:02:40 -

Transformation potion with trace of Witchlight (ep.31)

Max heal, cancels out other curses; Your entire personality is replaced by:

(Torbek) purple - Bobby Fly, really interested in the new chef. He likes cooking with a little bit of spice that makes food hit different ;Bobby Flay [prev. ep - 01:22:50]

(Frost) green - Julia Flyed, partial to the bullywug cheff as she really loves bullywug cooking; Julia Child [prev. ep - 01:22:50]

(Gricko) blue - Gordon Raaamsay, chef from out of town, partial to the bullywug cooking [prev. ep - 01:22:50]

(Gideon) red - Guy Flyari, a cool dude partial to the newcomer, looking for something new, different and exciting; Guy Fieri [prev. ep - 01:22:50]

(Frost & Gricko) - +2 to rolls for Pierre Escobar & Pepe (Torbek & Gideon) - +2 to rolls for Kremy & Twig

To-do list:

Get the 100,00 gold pieces by the end of the month (ep.1)

Find out why Madrik Roslovs patron, Zybilna, stopped answering his calls for 15 years so he can die in peace, knowing her fate (ep.1)

Get to the Witchlight Carnival before it ends and find the only available entrance to Prismeer, Zybilnas domain (ep.1; completed)

Try to become Witchlight Monarch (ep.1; completed)

Find out who was the man that cut off Lexi Pott's wings, why he did that and what happened with them (ep.1)

Find a way to reunite Diana Cloppington with her with her horse, Sir Cloppington, and return them to their previous forms (ep.2)

Win Cake Eating contest (ep.3; completed)

Find a way to return Candlefoots voice (ep.4; completed)

Find some clothes for Torbek (ep.6; completed)

Keep Torbek occupied for an hour when Carnival Hands find manacles for him and take him away for his punishment (ep.8; completed)

Catch the Kenku and bring her to Mr Witch & Mr Light for her punishment in exchange for some answers (ep.9; not realised)

Get ahold of Mr Witch's Pocketwatch or Mr Light's Weathervane and keep it hostage to get the true answers to what they seek (ep.9; completed)

Get reunited with Hootsie (ep.16, completed)

Avenge Willa and find a way to free her from being tied to the Well (ep.17)

Find Brody Snake-Snake in Yon and deliver him message from his parents (ep.18)

Retrieve a key to his cage from goblin named Jingle Jangle and free Sir Talavar from it (ep.18; completed)

Take care of Harengons so they don't harrass Jingle Jangle anymore and return her truffle bag (ep.21; completed)

Retrieve Clapperclaws head, a stag skull, from Agdon Longscarf and return it (ep.22)

Get Twig all limited edition Bunko-Pops of the Krew as drag queens if they ever have a chance (ep.25)

The False Flag Plan: Pin disappearance of Bavlorna's Big Book of Bad Blood on somone who is NOT King Gullop XIX but on darklings that got him it with suggestion that her sister sent them for it (ep.27)

Reform Downfall from hereditary monarchy into constitutional republic (ep.27; delivered)

Find a way for Morgort to not get killed (ep.27; completed)

Have Gideon fight Chuckles as Morgort's champion, defeating evil clown in her name so that her life is spared (ups; ep.28)

Convince entire Soggy Court and Downfall of Morgort's innocence by performing an opera as political propaganda (ep.29; completed)

Find out who the Guy with the Boots is and take care of him so he doesn't hurt Torbek again (ep.29)

Go to Bavlorna's Cottage next night for the dinner to talk about possible deals they would make in exchange for things she can offer (ep.30)

Win Electrum Chef (ep.31; completed)

Find a way to tell Morgort about Wigglewog

.

Time

4th day of Campaign, 2nd day in Prismeer, Feywild, somewhere after nightfall - about hour and half later

?th of the month (?? days until The Debt deadline)

Random Info

Man whose name Lexi Pott was unable to say was going to "wake her" and she was very scared for Party meeting him. When they mentioned name Zybilna, she said they "already were too deep" (ep.1)

After Lexi Pott died, Party was surrounded by Fairy Ring made up from mushrooms (ep.1)

Tasha and Iggwilv The Witch Queen are the same person (ep.4)

Chuckles said Gideon will join clowns in Hell and become Eighth Clown Lord of Crazy Eights (ep.7)

Torbek's poem is based on Immortality by Clare Harner (ep.8)

Burly the bugbear has a twin, Hurly, that went missing (ep.9)

Mr Witch and Mr Light got into pact for them to be able to run the Witchlight Carnival in exchange for things it wants (people breaking rules) to Hourglass Coven (ep.11)

The original owner of Witchlight Carnival was an archfey (ep.11)

Fey Pacts leave magical aura around those which they bind that are visible to fae (ep.11)

Whatever is stollen from Carnival always finds its way into Prismeer (ep.16)

The only people from Carnival staff who go outside its bounds are Witchlight Hands. All other creatures stay inside (ep.16)

According to Mr Light, Party is affected by Fae Magic way more than anyone he've ever seen in his life for some reason (ep.16)

Mr Witch's last words were "Mind the rule of three - future, present, past" and Mr Light's were "Find the alicorn and free the dormant Queen at last" (ep.16)

Brody Snake-Snake went to act at The Theater in Yon and haven't been in any contact with his parents since (ep.18)

Wigglewog is stated to be "very well dressed and very well dead" (ep.18)

Hags used Iggwilv's Caudron to freeze time inside Zybilnas Palace, trapping the archfey inside (ep.18)

Time works differently in Feywild (ep.18)

Torbek is at least five years older than the last time Krew saw him and doesn't have recollection of what happened to him during majority of this time (ep.19)

The magenta liquid in Torbeks machinery is made of Witchlight, an extremely potent Feywild drug made from Witch Cup mushroom found only in deep parts of Feydark; due how hard it is to procure only the richest can afford it, like archfey (ep.19)

Jingle Jangle can only refer to herself in third person since she made deal with Bavlorna Blightstraw because she lost sense of self when she was made to be obsessed with keys but, as far as she knows, Jingle Jangle has always been her name (ep.21)

The only entities that can move between Realms of Prismeer are Hags and few guides that somehow found a way to travel between; the only one known in Hither is a pincer-clawed scarecrow, Clapperclaw (ep.21)

Tither is ruled by Granny Nightshade (ep.21)

Granny Nightshade, the hag that made Clapperclaw, gave its head to the Hag rulling in Hither, Bavlorna, and then she gave it to Agdon Longscarf; it's head looks like that of an equivalent of deeresque creature (ep.23)

In Feywild, unless someone has someone next of kin or ever specified otherwise, after their death their belongings cease to belong to anyone, making taking them away and claiming as your own perfectly legal and not a case of breaking any of The Rules (ep.23)

Person of which voice Krew heard in the dream vision and Torbek heard on the table on which he was experimented on told Torbek telepathically that "They are coming", that Torbek won't be able to separate from "him" any time soon and that number 13 will have some kind of significance (ep.23)

Torbek has in the past unexplainably survived many instances of fatal situations that by any accounts should've killed him (like falling off the Harris Wheel uncountable number of times despite no one else falling off it more than once) (ep.23)

The ash on the place where the unicorn horn was cut off is sulfuric in nature, just like whatever was stopping Lexi Pott's wounds from closing up (ep.29)

The Witch's Cup mushroom is definitely main but most likely not the only ingrediend of the Witchlight in Torbek's containers (ep.29)

Carlfish are a species of a Feywild talking fish; all of them are named Carl and they behave like stereotypical gym bros (homebrewed; ep.31)

Beezleberies are type of a magical berry in shades of burning fire with juice sacks that need to be milked to get their juice. Behind them there is a hidden gummy heart that stinks horribly but tastes delicious. They whisper omnious and dysturbing things in hundereds of voices, even after being baked. A faint heartbeat is faintly audible from it. After being removed their seeds need to be burned, otherwise they'll turn into horrible abominations (homebrewed)`

Total money: 817 gold pieces

.

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[travellingcircus]

~untitled 19th century au thing ? 1/

Very little seemed to quell Obi-Wan’s boredom. 

He had returned home from boarding school, intent on spending his summer in Sussex, but there had been a fire, just a week shy of his arrival, that demoted him to his uncle’s estate in Devonshire. Smaller of course, than the family’s property in Sussex, though the rooms in Devonshire were certainly spacious, numbering twenty-two, and yet the staff left much to be desired. 

There were five maids in total, a cook, a driver, a footman, and a gardener — though Obi-Wan had yet to see the latter materialise. Not one of them seemed entirely certain what to do with him when he arrived two weeks ago straight from boarding school, still bundled up to the throat in his uniform and coat, sweating under his hat. 

They clearly weren’t expecting him, mistaking him, at first, for a family guest. A phone call had to be made, first to Obi-Wan’s father, then to the housekeeper, who lived out of town, and had, mistakenly, brought the master key home with her. 

Obi-Wan spent an hour in the sitting room, waiting for his room to be aired, another hour for his dinner, another for his bath.  He was appalled by the treatment. It was almost midnight before all of it was seen to, and by then, drained of all good humour, he ordered the maid to leave so he could unpack his luggage himself. In a mood, he phoned his mother while up to his ears in bathwater, complaining about the stuffy room, the moth-ridden blankets, complaining even, about how unwelcome he felt. He wanted to go home. He hated Devonshire. The weather was awful and often unpredictable, prone to temperamental shifts at the drop of a hat. His mother promised him it was only temporary. 

Breakfast was served the next morning at seven thirty, toast with jam, a bowl of watery porridge, overcooked ham. The eggs, at least, were a saving grace: soft and runny, just how he liked them. There was a bowl of fruit by Obi-Wan’s elbow which he purposefully did not touch. He spat his tea and watered it down with half a thimble of gin, a gift from a friend before they parted ways at the train station. He had laughed it off, then, and didn’t think he would need it, as he’d always been a social drinker, but here, now, he was grateful he had accepted. 

There were eight more weeks to this incessant restlessness. He could see himself going quietly mad without the aid of alcohol.

Obi-Wan took to walking around the house barefoot, moving from room to room, under the ever watchful eyes of family portraits hanging from every wall. Some of the rooms in the house were locked, others full of old furniture covered in dusty sheets, some gutted so they could be repaired, the tables and chairs moved to the attic, the lighting fixtures bared, pale shadows on the walls where portraits once hung. The guest rooms had been undisturbed for a time, as had been the study, which Obi-Wan had the maids clean top to bottom after an afternoon in the reading chair gave him the worst sneezing fits. 

Obi-Wan missed home, dearly, the comfort of his four poster bed, his teetering shelf of books, the powder blue curtains framing his windows which overlooked the sweeping lawn outside and the overgrown cherry trees that fringed the crumbling stone driveway. 

The estate was nearly forty years old, squat and obscenely baroque in contrast to home’s more Gothic leanings; there was an artificial lake and island just on very the edge of the property, a tennis court, and a greenhouse tended to by Obi-Wan’s uncle when he was in high spirits. The property was ugly and severe, red sandstone and brick, characterized by high turrets and prickly finials. Holly scratched at the walls cruelly. The bronze fountain in the garden had grown so green with algae that Greek inscriptions were hardly visible through the verdigris. Everything was old, in a state of disrepair.

Obi-Wan had planned to go on a boating trip with his uncle this summer but Qui-Gon had phoned last minute to tell him their plans would have to be put on hold. He was overseas on business and didn’t seem to be coming home anytime soon, so Obi-Wan wrote letters to all his friends in boarding school — Quinlan, Jape, even Dex — inviting them to the estate though he knew most of them would be in Paris, enjoying their summer, as it were, leaving him bored, alone, and friendless in his own house. He had imagined this summer to be full, as it was his last year in boarding school before attending university in September. 

Clearly, he was mistaken. Clearly, all that lay in wait for him was terrible food and even worse company. 

The tedium was most unbearable in the afternoon, when the yawning stillness of summer was at its peak, and Obi-Wan could stand neither his own company nor the company of his uncle’s books. There was nothing to read that he considered worth his time, and the books he had brought from school he had already finished cover to cover. Often times, he craved a cigarette. His need for it deepened in the afternoon after he woke from a thick humid sleep. 

Barely out of his dressing grown, Obi-Wan upturned his luggage, crawling on his hands and knees to search the room vainly for his tin of tobacco. He had learned to roll cigarettes in his fourth year in boarding school, smoking one a day and then three every night he had to study for a final. It was one of the tricks he had been taught by his roommate, whose father worked as an accountant to the Bratva: the first trick was faking a fever in order to skip lessons, second was mixing gin and powdered orange juice. Quinlan, too, taught him the joys of reading Russian pornography, and taught him to say a filthy word in French. 

When his efforts proved futile, Obi-Wan slumped at the dressing table in utter despair, reaching for the flask he kept in several pockets all throughout his room. He lifted it to his lips, and huffed in annoyance once he realised it, too, had been depleted over the course of two weeks. 

Obi-Wan heard a series of soft taps from the window and from the corner of his eye saw that he’d left it ajar this morning, allowing a geometry of light to sliver across the floor, at his feet. The source of the tapping soon revealed itself upon closer scrutiny: a bee was beating its plush body against the glass, frenetically seeking freedom. 

Obi-Wan walked over to the window to free it, and the curtains lapped at his face before whipping the breeze like sails. Outside, he spied the gardener on his knees, weeding the rugosa hedge, his back turned to Obi-Wan. He crouched, then finally stood, to smoke a cigarette pinched between two fingers.

Obi-Wan had only met him once, when the man had caught him asleep in the sitting room. He was sent by the valet to work on some circuitry. The lights in the sitting room had been flickering for some time, making it difficult for Obi-Wan to read in the evening, and of course, he had complained to his mother who assured him it was going to be taken care of, my darling. 

The only one who was remotely useful was the gardener, apparently, or at least her son, as the actual gardener had retired shortly after Obi-Wan’s grandfather had died. Obi-Wan didn’t bother remembering the son’s name — he was half asleep when the man had introduced himself, thrusting out a dirty hand, and Obi-Wan was uninterested besides. What’s more the man didn’t leave a very lasting impression: his unkempt nails spoke of slovenliness as did his untrimmed hair, grown long and unchecked over his eyes. 

Now, Obi-Wan almost regretted it, because he was thinking of asking the man for a smoke. 

Obi-Wan shook his head to wean himself of the urge. He was bored, not stupid, and it didn’t do to fraternise with the staff. 

There were other ways to curb the craving. Obi-Wan decided a walk was in order.

Obi-Wan stepped out into the terrace, his bare feet warmed by the crumbling Yorkshire stone. It was cooler outside, strangely; the grass tickled his feet and ankles as he negotiated the last three steps to the gravel path. He wore his dressing gown over his pyjamas, not caring for propriety, as the staff knew well enough to leave him be. 

He was the master of the house, after all, could wear what he pleased, but as he approached the general direction of where the rugosa hedges hemmed the marble fountains, he felt increasingly ridiculous, like a child. His hair he held away from his face with a ribbon, and he could feel a slight breeze dry the dampness from the back of his neck. 

Obi-Wan contemplated getting a haircut as he tucked an errant curl behind one ear. It wasn’t very masculine to keep one’s hair well beyond chin-level; he disliked how his long hair softened his features considerably, taking away the hard, boyish edges, but his mother liked it, so he grew it long for her. 

The gardener turned just as Obi-Wan approached. He blinked, sucked on his cigarette, before nodding wordlessly in acknowledgement, his face completely blank and unreadable. Obi-Wan didn’t know why he felt suddenly flustered. It must have something to do with the heat, he thought, the way sleeping in the sitting room often made his thoughts lush and dreamy. 

The man had cut his hair, he realised, since he’d last seen him, the fringe shorter, dragged back from a handsome face, and flecked here and there with tiny grey slivers. His shirt was open partway, revealing a column of tan, tawny skin, and a strong chest, built like the hull of a ship.

“Good afternoon,” said the man, drawing Obi-Wan’s attention back to his face.

Obi-Wan had always envied men like him, working class men who were tall and strong and exuded a confident sensuality. Often, he wished he were more like them: a real man who could hold his liquor and swear freely and make bawdy jokes.  

At seventeen, he was of the bookish stock: awkward, gawky, erring on the side of sensitive, lacking an integral component of whatever it was that made men men. He was soft, in more ways than one, his nose perpetually buried in a book. The only sport he indulged in were chess and bridge. He had never even kissed a girl before.

“Anything I might help you with, Master Kenobi?” the gardener asked, not without a touch of sincerity, even though Obi-Wan was, at least a decade younger if not more so. He had an accent, and it rankled Obi-Wan like an itch that he was unable to place it. 

“Mr —” 

“Anakin,” said the man, with a small, private smile. “We met at the —” 

“Yes, yes, you came to fix the lights,” said Obi-Wan irritably. 

Anakin’s brows drew together in confusion though it smoothed away just as quickly, and he smiled again, deepening the crow’s feet wrinkling his eyes. “Ah, yes, of course. Are the lights still giving you trouble? I could come by again if you needed me. I have the afternoon free, I think.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to take you away from your …chores. The hedges seem to require a bit more attention, as of late. ”

Anakin gave him a startled look that morphed into one of slight irritation. It was meant in jest, any fool would realise that, but it appeared that Anakin had missed the joke and Obi-Wan had not yet earned the familiarity to make such comments. 

“Is that right,” said Anakin, sharply. There was an almost mean glint in his eye. “Must be the pesticide then. Switched to a different brand, recently.” He took another puff of his cigarette, then flicked his eyes up and down the length of Obi-Wan, his gaze settling, very briefly, on Obi-Wan’s bare feet. 

Obi-Wan curled his toes in the grass sheepishly. He wondered how he must look to Anakin, with his hair in a disheveled state, his left cheek creased with pillow marks from his afternoon doze, wandering around in his uncle’s shabby dressing gown, with no shoes on. Anakin must think him eccentric; he would, at least, be half-right.

“You’re going to get blisters, running around in your bare feet like that,” said Anakin, finally. “You should head back inside, or at least put some shoes on.”

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to protest, but shut it with a click. He fought the urge to roll his eyes, stamp his foot. He lifted his chin, felt the ugly shape of a rude word tickle the back of his throat, but tamped that down too. “Can you roll me one of your cigarettes?” he said instead. It took every ounce of self control not to huff in annoyance when Anakin simply smiled at him in reply.  

“You smoke then, do you?” Anakin said as he raked a mud-stained hand through his hair. “I’ll be dismissed if I roll you a cigarette, you do realise that, right? Besides, you’re only a boy; you shouldn’t be smoking at your age. How old are you? Fifteen? Sixteen?” 

“Eighteen next month,” Obi-Wan said, but Anakin shrugged like it made no difference to him. Perhaps it didn’t. He lifted his cigarette, pinching it between thumb and forefinger like a chronic smoker, and as if to make a point of savouring it, took a long, slow drag. 

Anakin blew smoke out of his mouth and nose without fanfare, and it rose, thick and hazy in the still, drowsy air, making Obi-Wan cough in a sputter. 

He flicked what remained of the filter onto the dirt, grounding it under the heel of his boot, compounding it into the grass. Then Anakin picked up his pruning shears, his gardening gloves and his hat, and nodded at Obi-Wan, just the once, before going on his way.