#where do the tusks fit into all this. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

autistic-fool-with-ideas · 6 months ago

Text

BROTHERHOOD HEADCANONS

Ok first off: affection

These fuckers were affectionate as FUCK with eachother

DBK was very aggressive with his affection, he’d usually headbutt everyone else. Sometimes he’d forget how big he is and would accidentally send send anyone who wasn’t Yellow Tusk flying with his headbutts

Wukong would just pick bugs off of everyone else and eat them mid conversation. Although for Macaque the they’d both actually sit down and groom eachother

Macaque wouldn’t directly show his affection, but if you were close to him and paid close attention to his shadow plays chances were you would find a character a bit too similar to yourself

Azure is by far the most affectionate out of all of them and even had his own methods of showing affection specific to each member of the brotherhood. For Wukong he licks down any stray fur he notices, sometimes they sit down for it and sometimes it’s just mid conversation. With Peng he’ll help them preen their wings via picking feathers out with his teeth. He tries to mimic monkey grooming habits with Macaque but he never eats the bugs. Azure just headbutts DBK, but in a way where he just slumps against him then there’s a very gentle headbutt. For Yellow Tusk he just does the classic scent rub and chittering thing house cats do, BUT he also will occasionally graze his teeth against her on accident every so often (my cat does this and it’s very sweet)

One bit of affection everybody gets out of Azure tho is him laying on them. If it fits he sits (one time he fell asleep and Wukong couldn’t get up for a few hours)

Peng isn’t too physically affectionate, but they will point out if someone looks shitty and then gives a way to fix it in a really condescending tone. However if they’re super drunk they basically become a secondary Azure with how physically affectionate they are. Everybody gets every type of affection from them those nights (even Macaque!)

Yellow Tusk is also incredibly prone to physical affection (because elephants are just like that irl you can look it up) but only after a certain point of being close. Most of the time she will just hug the others (forgetting her own strength sometimes and nearly crushing some ribs), but on certain occasions she’ll just read out loud and let anyone sit by her and listen.

Now when the brotherhood aren’t being saps with each other they’re instead getting up to some bullshit.

The entire reason DBK even became friends with them was because Wukong found him after getting back from the East dragon palace. DBK was just punching a tree and decided “oh yeah this guy is awesome” and he brought DBK home.

DBK was also the last addition to the friend group (Macaque being first, Camel Ridge Trio being a couple months before Wukong got his staff)

DBK once taught the FFM monkeys a bunch of combat techniques that they just couldn’t do (due to size) and Macaque had to spend a whole week figuring out a way to safely apply the techniques into something the monkeys could actually pull off

Macaque is the reason Peng has their golden wings

The golden part of Pengs name originally came from the fact that their natural wings had a golden sheen to them in the sunlight.

Peng lost their natural wings when they left the celestial realm (they got chopped off!)

Macaque knew this upset them and just before Wukong left to get gear from the East dragon palace he decided to listen in to a couple of futures and in one he learned about a chest place that could produce wings of gold. Macaque told Wukong about this and had him get it while he was in there

This is also how camel ridge trio learn Macaque can hear into the future

Azure is stupidly oblivious when it comes to romance.

DBK had a very brief crush on Azure for a couple weeks, he had no idea this was a crush and only realized centuries later when PIF points it out to him. Azure still has no idea this even was a thing

Yellow Tusk and DBK would make bets about the love square™️, most of which Yellow Tusk would win

Azure doesn’t really drink because the first time he did he basically just devolved into a purring blob

#lego monkie kid #lmk brotherhood #lmk headcanon #cassettes tapes #the brotherhood #lmk Peng #lmk DBK #lmk azure lion #lmk sun wukong #lmk macaque #lmk yellow tusk elephant

67 notes · View notes

credus99-blog · 14 days ago

Text

Aggression/ Danger to humans: Medium – Medium/High

Element/ Ailment: None

The Collard Stagboar or T’ïkhydhorva (Tuhky-dorva) meaning “Stagboar” are large antlered Atterran pigs that inhabit the plains and forests of the Northeastern Continent and is a generalist herbivore that are particularly fond of fallen fatty nuts(which they crush easily in their powerful jaws). Being a highly successful clade taking a niche like large bovids on earth, several species of Stagboar live in the jungles, forests, rainforest, plains, and Savannah of the Northeastern and Eastern continents of Atterra. Herds of Collard Stagboars in the forests can be up to forty animals in size but in the plains can be between four hundred to a thousand animals strong. Being large bodies animals with a strong neck and hump on their back, the Stagboar likes to shovel earth with its snout for roots and fungus or shovel snow to reach the grass trapped underneath.

Lacking the tapetum lucidum that allows most other species of animals to see at night, the Collard Stagboar (and all Stagboar species in general) must rely on its keen sense of smell and hearing to be able to detect predators during the night. This has made them a prime target for nocturnal predators that strike the Stagboar herds when they are at their most vulnerable and has made the species extremely light sleepers. To make up for this the Stagboar will spend the morning and evening hours of the day sleeping and center their feeding activities around the middle of the day and during the early hours of the night. It is common for one or more animals to be awake while the herd is sleeping to assist in keeping a vigilant lookout for predators to wake up and alert the herd at a moments notice should a threat be discovered. This has made wild Stagboar herd extremely dangerous to be around during their resting hours as the herd will fly into a blind panic and defensive posture at waking up, often with them charging down whatever it was the awoke them.

When awakened the temperament of Stagboars is most like Earth Bison in nature but slightly more tolerant in behavior (though many a Hakdor and human hunter has died hunting Stagboar for its meat and hide). If no animals in the herd are harassed or otherwise disturbed then a human or other herbivore might be able to walk past or around the herd while foraging, with caution. Besides the four tusks that the Stagboar possesses, for defense the Collard Stagboar has twelve protruding spines on their upper back made of bone and sheathed in enamel. These spikes are not rooted to the skeleton and instead are rooted into the upper muscle layer similar to the Azure Falswine and serve a similar purpose. These boney spines however are more specialized, being utilized to fend off flying wyverns. The reason for this adaptation being that flying wyverns, even the smaller and more herbivorous Dragoons, have a habit or breaking the spine of their prey with a well placed impact to their prey’s spinal cord.

A method of hunting similar to Earth’s Peregrine Falcons that ball their feet into a fist that snaps the spines of their prey on impact at high speeds in deadly flybys. While the Glorgabeast has evolved a hard turtle like shell to defend against this, the Collard Stagboar has evolved bony spines to discourage wyverns from hunting them. Lest the wyvern wants to risk impaling one or both of its feet on one of the twelve spikes the Stagboar possesses. These spines do not greatly impede breeding between a boar and a sow as the spikes are slightly malleable in nature but do make the act of reproduction slightly awkward. To not accidentally prick themselves with the sow’s spines, the boar must mount the sow from directly behind and hoist himself to where his front limbs can fit between the two groups of spines the sow has. Once the deed is done, the sow will lower the ground so that the Boar can disengage himself from the and be on his merry way.

Besides the tusks and spines, the Stagboar grows a pair of antlers annually for both interspecies combat and for defense. Both genders of the Stagboar like several other species of Atterran mammals grow antlers and keep them for the majority of the year. Male Stagboars lose their antlers in the beginning of winter and regrow them during the middle of spring while sows will lose them towards the middle of winter and like the males will begin to regrow them during mid spring. Male will use their antlers to compete for breeding rights (with females using their antlers for defense of themselves and their piglets), between two or more males fighting over one or more sows the boars had been courting.

Whichever boar wins the bout by either injuring (or more commonly tiring out and knocking over) the opponent will gain breeding rights to the sow/sows that they were courting. This courtship and breeding happens once or twice a year depending on the favorability of the environment and the food available in the herds territory. These breeding seasons typically take place during the fall or summer months with pregnancies lasting six months before a litter of piglets (typically two in number) are born. Once born the piglets will nurse for seven to eight months before being weaned off by their mother and will leave her side at one year of age. Stagboar sexually mature at three years of age and is marked with their first antler growth during the spring.

Stagboar have been successfully domesticated by the Hakdor (most commonly found with the nomadic tribes of the plains) who feed their Stagboar hard shelled nuts such as Hairnuts and Spikenuts for treats. Often using their Stagboar as heavy or war mounts besides the Atterran Horse and Ridgebacks (with Ridgebacks being used more like an armored transport) and beasts of burden. Domesticated Stagboar are more even tempered than their wilder counterparts and express more variation in their pelt color than wild Stagboar (Blond, beige, and speckled being some examples of the morphs the Hakdor have created). Like Sheepbirds (also known as woolly griffons) domestic Stagboar are also used for their winter coats which are woolly in nature and are shed during the spring. This winter coat is used for both clothing and blankets that Hakdor weavers produce for the tribe.

Domestic Stagboar are not commonly found in human cities and settlements both inside outside the walls due to human preference towards the Atterran horse and taste for domestic Kiba. Instead, human farms are formed by the lesser cousin of the Stagboar, the Atterran pig. Which mature quickly, easy to raise, and share close evolutionary ties with the Stagboar and are believed to be the evolutionary ancestor of the modern Stagboar before The Fall over two thousand years in the past. Outside the farms the only major human group in the east that keeps domestic Stagboar would be The Guild. Who alongside Atterran horses and like the Hakdor, utilize domesticated Stagboars in their hunts to bring back prey hunted in the wilds back to their towns in the wilds and the walled states of the SRA.

26 notes · View notes

cripplecharacters · 1 month ago

Note

Hey there! I'm currently working on a fantasy story where one of the characters has a large tusk that protrudes out of the side of her top row of teeth. Where she comes from many others would've had the same impediment, so I don't think it would be something she grew up avoiding or trying to counter. I would love to hear others opinions on how she would sound, and if this kind of thing maybe could've had a cultural impact in some way? She's one of the main characters, and I want to make sure I do her justice. ❤️

Hello!

Sound-wise, I honestly think there wouldn't be much difference. If she got them as a part of growing up then she'd probably learn how to make the sounds with the space available in her mouth. There are some people who can speak in a very "normal" (average) way despite being only able to use their tongue, etc. If it doesn't cause her some sort of paralysis or even stops her from closing her mouth (apart from the tusk) then she'd probably speak like most speakers of her language.

Culturally, well, it is some sort of fantasy facial difference, at least outside the region where she's originally from. But how exactly it would affect it depends on what the general culture is like in their society - are people with non-fantasy FDs seen as;

regular people with(out) something on their face?

magical people who are always Good?

ugly freaks that need to be hidden from society?

or a fourth secret thing? Whichever it is, your character would fall under the same view since in-universe these are all real facial differences. How are people with cleft lips treated? Or those who have tumors on their faces? These are the people who will create some sort of vague community with your character since they're all "different" in that specific way.

For example; if people with FDs are just regular guys then her having her tusk would probably be largely a non-event. Kids could be weird about it (in the loudest voice possible: "mooooom, why does she have That?") and some people could be curious ("does it hurt you, that thing being there?") or just use it as an icebreaker ("oh, your tusk, are you from XZ? - I used to work here"). Maybe she'd have trouble finding some things to fit her face properly since they wouldn't be made for someone like her, just the regular inconveniences that come with being a minority.

If people with FDs are seen as freaks, then she'd probably be made to feel like a sideshow. I can imagine she'd have strong feelings of how her old society vs the new one treated her. If ableists knew that it's common for people from XZ place to have facial differences like that then I'd assume they wouldn't miss the opportunity to be xenophobic about it. But, on the other side, other people with facial differences would probably be curious about her experience of living in a region where FDs are seemingly accepted ("you know, back home no one ever said anything like that to me, it-" "never? where is that and how do I move there?").

If you're aiming for realistic, then it's a bit of both (IRL, the % of the above changes depending on where and who you are). Most people don't consciously care but are still kinda weird about it - the obnoxious stare, the awkward question, the offensive comparison, you get it. Some people are weird about it but in a "positive" way and will thank you for going outside and "being brave" or whatever. A small minority are very openly ableist and a small percentage of them has a potential to be physically violent. Another smaller minority will actually act normal around people with FDs (high chance of them having either worked in medical field or having a loved one with an FD) and will treat you like a normal person.

After you figure out what is the general cultural reception of people with FDs you can think of where your character places in it exactly. There will be a lot of people with differences much more visible and disabling than hers, and even more with smaller and less disabling ones; she's somewhere in the middle. Her disability is also somewhat tied to a region/nationality/etc. - this sometimes (largely falsely) happens IRL and is almost always a negative when it comes to the majority's perception. Unless your story literally doesn't have xenophobia, people don't tend to like visibly disabled immigrants very much. Try thinking of intersectionality and what kind of community she could fit into in her new place - are there more people from her homeland there or does she only have contact with locals? If her FD marks her as "exotic" she'll be alienated more than if she was seen the same way as a girl with freckles.

My last advice that I kinda hinted at already is to include more characters with facial differences, especially real-life ones. Because they would definitely exist, even if just in minor roles.

Sorry for the non-answer but I hope it helps,

mod Sasza

#mod sasza #anonymous #face difference #fantasy setting #fantasy disabilities

27 notes · View notes

preciouslandmermaid · 11 days ago

Text

of songbirds, swords, and spice (7)

pairing: Opla!Zoro x Opla!Sanji x Fem! Reader (no use of Y/N or L/N)

tw/cw: reader is restrained, physical violence/abuse towards reader, explicit threats toward reader, blood.

note: it's been 84 years - i am still alive

🏴‍☠️ read on AO3 🏴‍☠️

(masterpost)

<- (previous chapter)

Your small hands curled around the peach-colored fruit. It was strange looking, with lots of swirls and lumps, but you were so, so hungry. Mr. Wasp kept everyone on a strict diet. He said it was to keep everyone healthy, but you heard the older maids whispering, they said that he didn’t feed his staff because then they’d never have the energy to run off. It wouldn’t hurt to take a bite. One bite.

Your teeth tore into the fleshy surface and the sweet, fragrant juice smeared against your chin and along your lips. Your stomach grumbled, urging you to take another bite. You had to take another. Mr. Wasp wouldn’t notice if this fruit went missing, would he? He had lots of food locked away in the pantry and the cellar. You chewed rapidly like one of those tiny, snuffling tusked beasts that stomped around the edge of Mr. Wasp’s property. Another bite. Your throat ached as the muscles uncomfortably stretched to fit the too-big-bites into your gullet. You couldn’t slow down. You had to eat this as fast as possible! The space between your fingers seeped with sticky and cloying nectar that trailed down your wrists and dripped from your elbows.

You huffed, exhaling raggedly through your nostrils, your molars gnashed the fruit into a pulp before you quickly swallowed. Before you knew it – it was gone. Your tongue swiped over your fingers, your knuckles, and palms. You stared at the empty, velvet-lined box that the fruit had been sitting in. You scooped it into your sticky hands. You needed to hide this and quickly before–!!

Ice-cold, salt water splashed onto your face, and you sat up, coughing and sputtering through your soaked gag. The corners of your mouth where the gag cut into your cheeks stung and ached. You blinked past the droplets to see Victor’s polished shoes by your ribs.

He gave you one swift, painful kick to your stomach, and you reflexively crunched into your body to protect yourself.

I can endure it, you thought, remembering that Nightingale Island, Estella, and her children were safe because of your sacrifice. You glared at Victor’s smiling face. He thought he won, but you weren’t going to use your voice for him. Not ever. With Estella, you didn’t mind running cons with her. The berry went towards the orphanage, so it all balanced out, but you’d never be a songbird for Victor so long as you drew breath. I’ll cut out my own tongue if I have to, you thought with a morbid and desperate determination.

“Do you remember what I said to you that day?” he asked.

His goons lifted you roughly to your feet. Your arms and wrists prickled as the lack of circulation and movement from the ropes was starting to burn. You winced, wiggling your fingers, hoping to dispel the painful sensation. Another goon entered the cell carrying shackles. She fastened them to your wrists and ankles and, once it was confirmed that you’re secured, the ropes were then removed.

“No?” Victor taunted, as if it were possible for you to speak. “I told you I don’t need slaves who talk back.”

He gripped your chin, fingers digging into your flesh, his dark eyes flaring with promise—and rage. “When we land, I’m going to cut your tongue from your mouth. You won’t be so fierce then, will you?”

You jerked your head away from his grasp, chest heaving, and tears stinging your eyes. I can endure it. You stared at the wet planks below and sensed the gentle swell of the ocean. I can endure. A frantic, hysterical laugh bubbled up inside your chest. Weren’t you just thinking of cutting your tongue out? And now Victor wanted the same. Which meant...which meant...your stomach soured. He doesn’t want me to be a songbird for him. He didn’t care about your power.

He said, “I have several clients who are tempted by the idea of an ex-devil fruit user. You will please them. ” He clapped once and said, “But first! You must repent for the years lost. Bring her to the deck.”

You struggled in vain against the goons who half-carried, half-dragged you from below and onto the deck. You blinked as the bright sunlight flooded your senses and a low, pounding headache pressed between your ears. They shoved you onto your knees.

Szzrrtt. The fabric of your shirt ripped from behind and it swung in tatters around your waist. Sunlight warmed your skin, but a full-body chill ran through you. You knew what would happen next. You knew. And you were afraid. As a child, Mr. Wasp would strike your knuckles until they bled as punishment. This was different. Unknown. Unimaginably worse. A prickle of goose-flesh ran across your spine.

“Five lashes,” Victor said to your exposed back, “for every year you were gone sounds fair, doesn’t it?”

A pair of his enforcers remained next to you, one hand for each shoulder, trapping your knelt form on the sun-kissed deck of the ship. You tried to breathe in through your nostrils, but it hiccupped strangely in your mouth. The white capped blue ocean endlessly stretched and blurred. There were no other ships on the horizon. No one is coming to save me. I can endure this. I must.

If you were to have any chance of escaping in the future, then Mr. Wasp needed to believe that he had won. He needed to see you as a broken, lost songbird. Otherwise, you’d never make it off the ship alive.

“Hugo,” he said, drawing his arm back, “splash her with saltwater every three lashes. I don’t trust her silence.”

“That’ll burn,” the man, you assumed it was Hugo, said.

“She’ll live,” he scoffed. “I’m being merciful.”

Zoro shouted to the others, “Get ready!”

The asshole’s ship was dead ahead. The salty air pushed through his short, green hair and he clutched the hilt of his sword. Nothing would stop them. Luffy promised that they’d bring the performer home and if Zoro knew anything – it was that Luffy was a man of his word.

The sunlight dipped toward the horizon, the ocean caught fire, and ignited the thin, pink clouds into angry wisps that��almost held a candle to Zoro’s fury.

Luffy took a running start and used his elastic body to launch himself toward the ship with the gaudy, hornet-covered sails. Zoro watched his captain soar across the crimson and tangerine sky with one hand holding his straw hat in place.

On the deck of the Wasp ship, he could hear the exclamations of confusion and terror. Good. They ought to be afraid. They have the fucking Straw Hats coming after them. They messed with the wrong pirates, Zoro thought with a feral slash of a grin.

Once the Going Merry was astride the Wasp, Zoro took a page out of Luffy’s book, and took a running start and leapt onto the deck. His sword sang as it was released from it’s sheath and the dying sunlight glinted off the blade in a harsh flash of burnt light.

Two idiots charged at him wielding wooden clubs and Zoro quickly deflected the first blow, then followed-up and slashed across the idiot’s wrist. Their attacks were clumsy. Laughable. You should have let them fight him at Estella’s house. He would’ve won. This whole mess could’ve been avoided, but no – no – you had to play the self-sacrificing hero, didn’t you?

“Where’s your Captain!?” Luffy yelled, punching someone so hard that several of their teeth flew out of their mouth. “Me and him gotta talk.”

Usopp shouted from the eagle’s nest, “Luffy, Zoro, look out!”

Zoro looked up and saw someone hanging from the rigging. They chucked a small, black sphere toward him and Luffy. It landed on the deck with a short hiss before the explosion released a plume of grayish black smoke. Zoro blinked through the acrid smoke and charged blindly forward. Fuck. This. These idiots are gonna blow up their own ship?

His shoulder hit a closed door and he yanked it open, barreling himself forward into three more idiots—although these ones had scimitars. Maybe they’d prove to be a challenge! The clang of steel upon steel rang through his ears as it echoed through the narrow stairway. He kicked one in the chest, sending her backward into their ally’s sword where it punctured through the idiot’s hip.

The woman screamed, surprised by the blade sticking out of her body, before her eyes rolled into her skull and her body slumped. It bought him a few seconds since his enemy needed to pull his blade out of his friend in order to keep fighting.

He deftly disarmed his third opponent and sent their scimitar clattering noisily down the stairs. These guys are seriously embarrassing.

Zoro’s blade sang through the air. A clean strike from neck to navel. The idiot got his blade free, leaving his friend for dead, and charged him. Zoro grunted, pushing forward despite the cramped and awkward angles, and using his height as leverage. One of the blades sliced over his knuckles, but Zoro hardly registered the pain or the blood that dripped from his hand. A twist. Another strike. A back-step, pretending to dodge, before he struck again.

His opponent’s left arm dangled, sinew and muscle stretching, the wound gushed blood near their neck. The body fell heavily to the ground and joined the rest.

His muscles throbbed and his breathing was heavy, but it was a good feeling. He’d probably find that asshole captain down here.

He stepped over the slick, shiny gore and his feet planted against the landing. Time to find the captain’s quarters. He didn’t know where it was, but it can’t be actually hard to find, can it? He stalked through the underbelly of the ship, blood trailing from his knuckles, and opened every door he came across. Storage. Storage. Sleeping quarters for the crew. But, the next door was locked. This must be it! He shouldered into it, feeling the frame quake in response, but it didn’t budge.

Zoro braced himself, holding the handle and gritting his teeth, before reeling back and slamming into it with all his strength.

The door splintered inward with an explosion of wooden chips. Zoro stumbled into the room, coming face to face with an occupied jail cell, and your name crumbled from his lips.

His fists encircled the bars on the cell. You laid in a fetal position, your arms twisted behind your back, your wrists and ankles shackled. His eyes trailed down your throat to where the tattered, torn remains of your shirt clung in wet, bloody pieces. His nostrils filled with salt and iron.

Zoro growled lowly, “What the fuck did that bastard do to you?”

You blinked your glassy, bright eyes at him and Zoro’s jaw clenched. He was going to tear the captain limb from limb if Luffy hadn’t beaten him to it already. He yanked at the cell door, expecting it to be locked–but it wasn’t. The door clanged, loud and off-putting, as it slammed into the bars and Zoro dropped to his knees before you.

You came. You actually came. You...idiots.

Your throat prickled and tightened, but you had run out of tears hours ago. He wiggled his thumb beneath the cloth, loosening the gag, before untying it from around your head. You gasped, breathing without restraint for the first time in hours, your lips dry and irritated and your tongue chalky. You closed your eyes for a moment, collecting yourself.

You choked the words from your sore throat, “Why’re you here?”

“Did you seriously think we’d let you walk away?”

You opened your eyes, intending to meet his gaze, but Zoro had moved and crouched behind you. You heard, rather than saw, his sharp, horrified inhale.

“Five strikes for every year I was away,” you said quietly, as if the injuries on your back needed explanation.

“Don’t move,” he said. His fingertips brushed against your raw, aching forearms. His grip tugged against the short chain that connected the shackles on your wrists.

“Zoro, what are you—”

He grunted and you heard something metallic snap. Your shoulders abruptly relaxed and a weak, surprised sob crawled up your throat. You pulled your arms from behind you and stared at the dangling, broken chain. “How–?”

Zoro grabbed the chain at your ankles. The veins in his neck bulged as he white-knuckled the chain between his fists and exhaled harshly through his nose. “You can’t.”

...There’s no way. Your eyes widened as Zoro snapped the chain in half like it was made of thin, bamboo wood.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand and a slight, cocky smirk tugged at his mouth. “You were saying?”

An astonished, short laugh erupted from your chest. “You need to stop saving me,” you joked while slowly getting to your feet. Your entire body throbbed with pain like barbed wires, but hey, you were alive. Alive and free from Victor. “What about the town?”

“It was a bluff.” Zoro shook his head. “Nami, Usopp, and some of your townsfolk searched the place. He was lying.”

Of course he was. Your lower lip wobbled. All this agony I endured and I could have...I could have just trusted the straw hats, could have trusted myself, and fought him. You looked away from Zoro and rubbed at your eyes. No more tears—there would be time for grieving once Victor was dead and gone.

“I brought this,” Zoro said, reaching behind him and holding out your kusarigama. You reached for the handle and your fingertips grazed over Zoro’s calloused palm.

“Thank you,” you said. For the weapon, for saving me, for finding me even though I’m not a part of your crew.

Zoro made a soft ‘hm’ noise in the back of his throat.

You weren’t sure what you expected when you walked onto the deck. Your body thrummed with pain, but adrenaline worked wonders to soften the sharp edges and allow you to step over the injured or dead bodies of Victor’s crew.

“Zoro, I think you should cover your ears,” you said with a serene, focused calm. You weighed and balanced the kusarigama in your hand. Luffy and Victor were fighting, but that was your battle, Victor Wasp was your tormentor, your nightmare, and if anyone was going to end it it had to be you. You planted your feet and spun the end of the kusarigama’s chain.

You yelled, “Victor!” And launched the chain toward your old employer’s throat. The chain snapped around his throat and knocked him onto his back. His pristine plum suit was torn at the elbows and his face sported an ugly, swollen bruise on his cheek. He flailed, his fingers grabbed the chain, but before he could scramble to his feet, you said, “Luffy, hold his arms so he can’t cover his ears, please.”

The Captain of the Straw Hats wordlessly obliged with your request and pinned Victor’s arms behind his back.

“What are you going to do?” asked Luffy.

“Make him suffer.” Your voice was flat. Victor’s anger was hot, corrosive, and it made you bleed. But your rage – your anger – was different. You had no interest in breaking his bones or bruising his skin. You could do so, so much worse. Everything narrowed and the rest of the ship fell away from your peripheral vision. The lingering, white smoke from the bombs hardly tickled your lungs and the flapping sails above barely registered in your ear drums. Victor’s terrified, swollen face filled your vision. His eyes narrowed contemptuously as you approached.

“Do you worst,” he spat. “I know you don’t have the stomach for killing, girl.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I own you!” he seethed, “you belong to me.”

You folded your arms across your chest though the movement caused your shoulder blades sing with agony.

“Listen closely, Mr. Wasp. This will be the last sound you hear.” You checked to your left to confirm that Zoro was plugging his ears. Your song was quiet, but haunting. Victor began to tremble within Luffy’s strong grasp. You learned through your adventures with Estella that the intention of the song mattered as much as the tempo. Victor’s eyes filled with tears and they rolled down his swollen, bruised cheeks. You sangand imagined pulling at a thread of one of his suits and unraveling it slowly until it became a tangled pile of fine, expensive thread.

Victor abruptly threw up onto his shirt and Luffy released him, looking toward you with a mix of confusion and concern. You grabbed Victor by the back of his neck, dragging him without resistance towards the ship railing. His ears were bleeding and his muscles twitched beneath your palm. You stopped the song. Victor hadn’t stopped crying.

Pathetic, you thought, though your anger had seeped from you.

“Luffy,” you said, “my dream...it’s to stop people like him and liberate people who were like me.” A cool, gentle breeze rustled around you and tugged at the tattered, dried and bloody remains of your shirt and stroked along your exposed, raw skin. No one should endure what you had. No one.

“The world government claims they abolished slavery, but there are still those who prey on the weak, who use their berry to pay off the marines, and keep little girls locked in basements,” you announced and glanced over your shoulder to see that the straw hats had gathered on the deck. Nami’s eyes were bright and glistened with unshed tears.

“You said no dream was impossible.” You said and met Luffy’s determined, dark gaze.

“I meant it.” He nodded.

Victor Wasp. The man who tormented you, abused you, stole you from your home and forced you into a childhood of terrified servitude. The man who came and threatened your home, your family, and then gleefully declared that he would cut out your tongue and force you to ‘please’ his clients. Your song had weakened him. You had hurt him on a physiological level, tearing at the fibers of his mind, and rendering him a blubbering and trembling mess. But, you believed the damage wasn’t permanent andMr. Wasp would recover eventually. You tightened your grip around the nape of his neck. He whimpered and licked away the snot that drenched his upper lip.

You could throw him into the water right now and he would drown. The lilac-touched twilight winked at you from above as the ocean waved white-caps and swelled beneath the ship’s hull.

Suddenly, Estella’s face flashed before you. Your heart skipped. You weren’t the only victim of Victor’s cruelty. Estella suffered far more than you. She lost her daughter. She was trapped under his thumb for decades. You swallowed thickly, then tossed the weakened man back onto the deck and sighed.

“Estella should choose what happens to him,” you announced to the others. “She deserves to choose after what she went through with her daughter.”

You met Nami’s glassy eyes. “Can you take us back to Nightingale?”

“Of course.” Her voice cracked and she turned her face away from you. You returned your attention to the skyline, open and sweet before you, and released a long, shaking sigh.

#one piece fanfiction #fic: songbirds swords and spice #reader insert #zoro x reader #sanji x reader #zoro roronoa x reader #sanji vinsmoke x reader #zoro x sanji x reader #zoro x sanji x you #opla fanfic #one piece live action fanfiction

20 notes · View notes

olympianbutch · 1 year ago

Note

hi!! as a worshipper of athena, how do you interpret the myth of athena and medusa, then? i mean this with only curiosity and no bad intentions 😭. i find it hard to approach her knowing she blamed a rape victim

Hail, anon! Thank you for your question. :)

So, I don't interpret the myth of Athena and Medousa in any significant way because I don't imagine it as a myth about them at all. It's about Perseus.

Medousa was a figure known to the ancient Greeks as early as the 8th-century BCE. Traditionally, she's imagined as the daughter of Keto and Phorkys, two children of Gaia who famously produce monsters. Like her siblings (Ekhidna, the Graiai, and the dragon Ladon), Medousa was born a monster. In fact, she was born alongside two other sisters—Euryale and Sthenno—who were the same sort of snake-haired, tusk-mouthed monster she was.

The difference between Medousa and her two sisters was that she was mortal, which is what allowed Perseus to collect her head for the sake of his quest (a quest that was brought to fulfillment with Athena's help).

This early Medousa was supposedly a lover of Poseidon's who birthed his children (Pegasos and Khrysaor) from the stump of her neck when she was decapitated.

It wouldn't be until the year 8 CE (some 700 years after the fact), when the Roman poet Ovid produced his famous Metamorphoses, that Medousa would be imagined as a victim of sexual assault by Poseidon (Neptune).

This wouldn't be the only change Ovid made to Medousa's story and character. Doubtlessly trying to fit her into the poem's theme of transformation, he made her a human woman who was transformed into a monster by Athena (Minerva) as punishment for being assaulted in her temple.

Ovid's take on Medousa (though it presumably isn't remotely representative of how the ancient Greeks imagined her) is undoubtedly the most famous because he elaborates on her character more than any of the more ancient sources do.

For instance, this is what Hesiod had to say about her in his Theogony: "They are Sthenno, Euryale, and Medousa, whose fate is a sad one, for she was mortal, but the other two immortal and ageless both alike. Poseidon, he of the dark hair, lay with one of these in a soft meadow and among spring flowers. But when Perseus had cut off the head of Medousa, there sprang from her blood great Khrysaor and the horse Pegasos so named from the springs of Okeanos, where she was born."

#dagan answers #helpol #hellenic polytheism #hellenic polytheist #Medusa #Medousa #Athena #Greek mythology #ancient Greek religion

113 notes · View notes

imagine-darksiders · 10 months ago

Note

Do remember when you've written about the desires of Draven & Samael regarding y/n? If it's not too much to ask, would you mind continuing the series by adding Ulthane? I've never seen longing for someone written in a way that was so appealing.

HELLO! Thank you for this ask, I hope you don't mind, I'm going to make this into a 2 part fic because I've got 2 ideas on how to end it, but I'm having trouble deciding which one to write. So...

That said, please enjoy the fic. It's sort of meant to be a part 4 to Family Tree.

Ulthane X Reader.

-------------------------

Ulthane Blackhammer’s soul is damned.

No. More than damned.

If the maker is certain of anything, it’s that his sorry soul is on a collision course straight for Oblivion itself.

He’s already come to terms with the fact that he won’t be joining the Stonefather when his time eventually runs out and he’s kicked off the proverbial coil.

For too long, he’s carried the crushing weight of his sins across his shoulders like a water yoke, and some day – perhaps not today, nor for another hundred years – but some day, he’s going to lose his footing, and all the harm he’s done will spill out for everyone to see.

“Maker’s bones,” the old giant curses into his palm as he scrubs a gargantuan hand slowly down his face, fingers tugging at thick tufts of beard as though he means to rip the whole thing from his chin in a fit of desperation.

As if his involvement in the End War wasn’t atrocious enough… Now he’s… he’s…

With a bone-shuddering groan, the maker tips his chin towards the sky and allows his skull to clunk back against the tree bark that’s digging into his spine.

The Maker tree is vast. Vast enough that it utterly dwarfs Haven’s surrounding skyscrapers both in height and girth… Vast enough to offer ample hiding places within its higher branches for even the largest of its occupants.

A century ago, if one had accused Ulthane Blackhammer of being a coward, they’d have been met with his cheery grin, the flash of tusks, and his knuckles to the underside of their jaw. But a century ago, Ulthane was a very different maker, a maker who would never have hidden away in the uppermost branches of a great tree or tucked himself into a cankerous hole gouged out of the bark.

The maker he used to be wouldn’t be threading one colossal hand into his beard whilst the other fisted itself into his cowl to keep his appendages from venturing south towards a very prominent tent bulging at the front of his leather, blacksmith’s trousers.

That maker hadn’t met you.

Ulthane’s chest heaves in and out, drawing great swathes of air into a set of enormous lungs before expelling it all again in an attempt to ease his thundering heart out of his throat and back between his ribs.

It was an accident… A mistake.

But then, how often has he tried to spin himself a similar spiel?

Agreeing to forge that accursed blade was a mistake.

Trying to help his friend was a mistake.

And look at the consequences. Look at who’s suffered – is still suffering – for his mistake.

To Ulthane, accidents are no longer a negligible offence. They’re simply unforgivable.

What had just occurred down in the hollow of the tree was less an accident at all then, and more an egregious sin worthy of punishment.

Wheezing out another groan, the maker raises a fist up to his mouth where, without hesitation, he sinks his formidable teeth into the skin on his knuckles, feeling the bone shift and creak under the pressure of his bite. His other hand tears from his cowl and thumps down onto the wood at his side, his fingers curling into claws that dig harshly into the flesh of the tree.

He has to keep both hands occupied, deliberately so.

He can’t run the risk of letting them wander down to fumble with the gleaming belt buckle on his trousers.

He had to leave. Staying down there isn’t an option at the moment. He had to take himself and his… urges somewhere far away where he wouldn’t run the risk of disturbing you further than he already has…

Only a few minutes ago, down in the hollow of the tree, the humans had all been laying asleep whilst their ‘great’ guardian stood vigil in the arched opening that serves as a doorway into and out of the little sanctuary.

The mere fact that they trusted him to watch over them while they slept spoke more about their character than it did his own. It also served to twist a poisonous blade into his guts, eating away at him from the inside.

It was as he stood there brooding over his crimes that he happened to lower his gaze to the arms folded firmly across his broad chest.

He’d grimaced at the sight of them.

That day, he’d elected to work gloveless, forgoing cumbersome leather to use his bare hands so he could fix one of the humans’ shotguns that had been firing both barrels at the same time. He couldn’t help but dig a little deeper than necessary into the manmade weapon, admiring it inside and out, from the wood on its stock to the engravings decorating its action.

Once again, human ingenuity had him entranced.

There was, however, a minor consequence to his curiosity. And that was the slippery layer of gun oil that coated his finger tips.

Glowering ineffectually down at the tinted residue, he rubbed his thumb and forefinger together, sighing as they slipped and slid over one another, tractionless.

He needed to find a cloth…

At the back of the central chamber, there lay another ‘room’ of sorts, hidden behind an old, blue tarp you yourself had nailed across its entrance to grant the humans who venture inside a little privacy. And while it's been known to be a little hideaway for the purposes of washing and bathing, its predominant use is for storage, housing an assortment of supplies from ammunition to cardboard boxes full of non-perishable food stuffs to barrels filled to the brim with collected rainwater.

Knowing there’d be some form of cloth or towel inside, Ulthane had stolen across the tree towards the alcove and allowed himself a moment of bemusement at the lightness of his step. Several days prior, one of the humans had made a casual joke about feeling his footfalls reverberating through the whole tree when they were trying to sleep. At the time, Ulthane had laughed it off. It was only when night fell that he started to question if the human’s comment was truly meant in jest.

And so, at the expense of his carefully curated, intimidating presence, the maker had trodden softly towards the storage space, slid his knuckles beneath the tarp and lifted it aside to step underneath it.

He didn’t even make it all the way through before his eyes landed upon a tiny shape lit by the flickering firelight of a wall sconce.

At once, Ulthane’s legs locked up tight, stopping him mid-stride as if he’d been spontaneously and abruptly cast in stone. Not even his chest moved, all the breath stilled in his lungs and was left there to stagnate while he drank in the sight before him.

Wide, startled eyes peered back up into the maker’s face, unblinking, caught by the same trap of shock he’d found himself tangled up in.

Evidently, not all of the humans were asleep.

Ulthane wasn’t sure if a second passed, or an eternity. All he knew was that within the innocuous stretch of time, he bore witness to something he never imagined a brute like him would be privy to. It seemed a miracle to be seeing it at all, as though he could blink, and the moment would fly away from him like words to a forgotten song, and never again would he catch another fleeting glimpse of that same biological artistry, even if he spent the rest of his days trying to find it.

So, he didn’t blink.

For standing before him without a scrap of clothing on, stood the one human who could have brought such an ancient giant to a complete, breathless standstill.

You.

Time seemed to drag its heels as Ulthane watched a wet cloth slip from your fingers to land on the wood below with a sodden ‘plop.’

You were bathing, he realised belatedly, ignoring an odd yet pleasant quiver in his stomach.

Your skin glistened with moisture left behind from the cloth, looking a damn sight cleaner than you had several hours prior after he found you covered elbow to fingertip in oil from your own gun.

While the humans despise using their drinking water for nonessential purposes, if cleaning must be done, they’d either wet a rag and scrub themselves down with a single squeeze of water from a nearby barrel, or they’d use one of their ‘baby wipes.’ The ones you’d been kind enough to deplete on Ulthane yesterday when you cleaned his bloody nose….

Eyes the colour of gun smoke softened with the rarest and gentlest affection as they drifted from the delicate space hidden between your thighs, over the damp skin on your chest, all the way up to the true work of art – your face; the face he’s sworn to one day immortalise in marble so that the Universe might never forget the human who gave a maker like him the time of day, and who opened his eyes to a species he’d previously only known through scriptures and hearsay.

But as he stared numbly down at you, half-oblivious to the soft tingling sensation trickling down from his belly, Ulthane finally, finally, registered the expression on your face.

And just like that, a terrible, gut-wrenching lurch of alarm suddenly crashed into his chest like waves on jagged rocks, and the world fell out from underneath his feet.

Ulthane blinked hard as time caught up to him once again, though he knew by then, it was already far too late.

“U-Ulthane?” he remembers you uttering, and it was only then he realised you’d thrown an arm over your breasts and slipped a hand down to try and protect yourself further from his wandering eyes.

Your brows were pinched, your mouth angled down until a look of abject horror spread across your dainty features.

Horror…

Of course you were horrified.

Of course you would look at him like he’s a monster come to life right in front of you.

He’d just blundered right in on you when you were at your most vulnerable, and then, instead of immediately retreating or averting his eyes to preserve your dignity, what had he done?

He’d simply stood there, gaping at you like some depraved and lecherous beast.

Worse still - worse than stumbling in on you in the first place - was the telltale sensation of skin stretching in the space below his belt buckle, accompanied by a sudden urgency that pooled in his gut as the fly piece of his leather blacksmith’s trousers began to bulge outwards, pressing into the sensitive head of his treacherous anatomy.

He still recalls the moment your eyes had flicked down, and then widened considerably.

It took him another moment to put two and two together to realise what was happening to him. It had, after all, been so long since he’d…

… For Stone’s sake, he’s a maker. Ulthane has been around for far longer than Humanity has even been on the planet. He’s too old and too gruff, and his head is screwed on far too tightly to ever be turned by a member of the fairer sex.

He’s not a youngling anymore. Long gone are the days of his youth when he’d send cocky grins across Tri Stone at maiden warriors or fumble his way through a brief and meaningless romance with one of the forge sisters.

He hasn’t been that maker for millennia.

Until he met you.

And you, he understands without a shadow of a doubt, are not meaningless.

What you are, however, is categorically and unequivocally off limits.

You're a human - a member of the very species his actions had doomed to extinction. You know nothing of the maker who had taken you in, and much to his confusion, you trust him. Hell, you even claim to like him, something that is as equally awful as it is humbling. You should never like him. If you knew what he did, your hatred would rival the kind that demons have for humanity.

You'd want him dead if you knew the truth.

But you don't know.

All you know now, is that Ulthane - a maker you've been relying on to keep you safe and protected - has essentially laid his feelings bare for you to see. Reactions like his are harder to hide when he's several times your size.

All of a sudden, a visceral abhorrence for himself rose like a fanged serpent to coil around his windpipe, squeezing it until he thought he might retch up his own guts onto the floor in front of you.

Ulthane Blackhammer has never retreated from anything in his long, gruelling life. Every adversary, he’s faced head-on. Every battle, he’s gone in swinging. Every hardship, he’s never once given a thought to falling back.

But then again, there are a lot of exceptions to a lot of rules.

And down there in the hollow, Ulthane made such an exception to his longest standing achievement.

He took a step backwards, his shoulder colliding with the side of the tree, and then he turned on his heel and ran.

#darksiders #darksiders 2 #darksiders 3 #pining #penice >:]#Ulthane

59 notes · View notes

shadowgast-recs-weekly · 1 year ago

Text

Have some extra time? Want to dive into something deep, or maybe stay up until 5am reading shadowgast fanfiction? Well, this week, we've got thirteen series for you! Check them out underneath the cut, and please comment and kudos if you liked them!

Clock Hands by royalgreen (62504, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: None

Alternate take on canon where Essek and Caleb start a relationship, leading into an alternate Rumblecusp arc

Reccer says: Great pining, sweet fluffy bois, fantastic worldbuilding, and a mystery

Touching Sentiments by Chanse (SpottedEnchants) (239244, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

This slice-of-life, interconnected collection of premises explores, among many things, the concept of Essek as both touch-averse and touch-starved, and how this might affect his relationships with the Mighty Nein.

Reccer says: I love how the author handles Essek's conflicting needs, and his relationship with all of the Nein (especially Caleb). It's so soft.

Wild Magic Surges by literalfuckinggarbage (10385, General) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Character studies of each wizard turning into a child version of themself through a wild magic surge in Aeor.

Reccer says: They are so sweet and precious as children! And all of the Nein’s voices are perfect

Among the Tattered Ruins by Cardinal_Daughter (33320, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Post canon getting together in Aeor, being domestic/sexy in Caleb’s house and meeting family.

Reccer says: I liked it!

Essek Thelyss' Lingerie Collection by CircaTheKnowledgeable (19490, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek Thelyss is given his first set of lingerie and finds a confidence in it that he has not had in a long time. Caleb loves it too.

Reccer says: Hot!

Shadowgast Omegaverse by firefright (54283, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: Omegaverse

alpha!Caleb and omega!Essek fall into a relationship right before the peace talks. This explores that and continues on

Reccer says: It's always wonderful to find a good a/b/o series, and this fits that beautifully

Catch A Falling Star (Critical Role) by RainyDayDecaf (32921, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: Choose Not to Warn, Graphic Depictions of Violence

The Mighty Nein find more than a Beacon in the sewers of Zadash. They also find a drow wizard and prisoner of war.

Reccer says: Mostly pre-relationship, the slow build is lovely! Heart wrenching at times and amusing at others.

birds of prey by TheKnittingJedi (102785, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: Choose Not to Warn

A Scourger!Bren AU that has Bren and Essek playing cat-and-mouse in political intrigue, spy games, and increasingly complicated emotions

Reccer says: I liked it!

the tusk love cinematic universe by kaeda (168202, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

While in Aeor, Essek and Caleb are transported to what seems to be the world of Tusk Love.

Reccer says: Kaeda is able to take such a crack premise and make it deeply compelling and heartwarming

reflections and other illusions of control by atlasarcana (84220, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Essek and Caleb have bedroom issues and summon an echo. The Echo is from a timeline where Bren remained a Volstrucker. They make things work.

Reccer says: This fic series focuses on relationship dynamics, intimacy, repression, and vulnerability. Caleb's journey into accepting a Dom role has to do with healing from a lot of trauma, and it's wonderful watching him be taught by Bren, who inadvertently is also healing from trauma by doing so. Plus, there's cross-timeline matchmaking for Bren and his own timeline's evil Shadowhand.

Aeor is for Lovers: Prompt Fills by LessAttitudeMoreAltitude (17979, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek and Caleb in Aeor, their relationship developing over a series of whumpy incidents

Reccer says: For a whump based series, it's surprisingly soft and sweet

Ages Past Ages Hence Cinematic Universe by Athenavine (30355, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Slice of life romance fics that capture the fulness of the love blooming between two wizards in exandria

Reccer says: athenavine really captures the characters voices, and the pace the romance moves at is just delicious. the descriptions are visceral and immersive and the fic updates very reliably and regularly. the series is emotionally compelling and spicy and exciting and it takes place over a span of time that feels like i really get a peek into all the important moments between my two favorite exandrian wizards. 10/10, will scream for anybody to read it, highly reccommend

And then we have two recs for this last one!

Field On Fire (Not the Actual Events) by Defiler_Wyrm (60535, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes, Contains a couple of monsterfucking scenes, but it’s still Shadowgast

From the depths of Aeor to a peace beyond, Caleb and Essek come together and explore their relationship—and each other—thoroughly.

Reccer 1 says: I’m entirely biased, but I like the balance of fluff and smut with a bit of humor and a pinch of angst, and how no two sex scenes are truly the same. Reccer 2 says: Top quality smut, Essek being competent as hell, Caleb being super slutty, I love all of it

Aeor is for Lovers is an 18+ Shadowgast Discord server. The above fanfic recommendations were pulled from our community for this weekly event. All fics, unless otherwise specified, will primarily feature Shadowgast. Have any questions about what this is? Check out the FAQ! Next week, we’ll be back with Sports/Athletes AUs! Let's make the noodly wizards move!

#shadowgast #caleb widogast #essek thelyss #critical role #cr fic recs #fan fiction rec list #Fan Fic Series #Longfic

85 notes · View notes

frankensteins-mt-dew · 10 months ago

Text

my brain is back on its mighty nein baybees bullshit

imagine Fjord and Beau (post ruidius chaos)going to liberate the orphanage where Fjord grew up and make it their mission to get the kids to good homes and also make the orphanage a much better place.

They meet and care for so many kids of all different races in that time, but some have latched on to them.

Literally, in Fjord's case. From day one a half orc that can't be older than four grabs on to Fjord's pinky and follows him everywhere. He doesn't speak, but he is very smart and knows everything and everyone in the orphanage. When Fjord mentions leaving for the night the boy releases his pinky and bear hugs his leg. After a bit of gentle parenting from him and Beau, Fjord accepts his fate and goes home to Jester with a kid on his leg. Jester's exuberance scares the boy at first, but she wins him over with sweets and hamster unicorns. Soon he starts opening up to them. His name is River. He likes pancakes. He's scared of storms, even dark clouds make him panic. He hates his tusks, too. Fjord and Jester never really sit down and discuss adopting him, or even ask River. It's clear without any words or labels that they are a family.

Beau has a rough time with this project. Sure, the first few days are great. The kids are cute, and they look up to her. But there are so many of them. And they are so loud and sticky,how are they so sticky, when did that even happen? But she knows what it's like to have a shitty childhood, and works to make sure they won't have one any longer. There's one that's different than the rest. A half elf baby that Beau almost didn't know was there. She's quiet but curious, eyes always wandering, and content to just lay around. Beau makes a baby Bjorn to put her in while she herds children and does paperwork. It's strange, she never in a million years thought she'd be anything close to nurturing. She's not even doing much. But this kid seems content with her, even smiles up at her when Beau looks down from her work. When Yasha comes by she is swarmed by children. They treat her like a jungle gym and she could not be happier. She takes turns caring for this nameless baby and is in awe with her. How tiny she is, her big beautiful eyes. Yasha nicknames her Bug and tells her stories. There's no changing her mind, this is their baby, she tells her wife. There's just the question of her name, now. They make lists of names for her: flower names, names conventionally used for boys, weather names, warrior names. Nothing seems to fit her. Then one day Beau notices she has a red birthmark on her back at the base of her neck, where she herself has a tattoo to remember a fallen friend. Then it's clear what their little girl's name is. Soon after, they throw a party at their home to introduce the rest of the Nein to their daughter, Molly.

#i have so many thoughts #I miss the mighty nein so much #critical role #cr spoilers #the mighty nein #fjorester #beauyasha

43 notes · View notes

felixcloud6288 · 3 months ago

Text

Dungeon Meshi Miscellaneous Monster Tales 2

This felt a bit more comically purposed than the last one.

Golems

I complained about how golems were only used for combat purposes and this ended up giving a justification for why they aren't used for general purposes. And it's an explanation I felt in my soul.

It was because of programming errors.

This is like the equivalent of writing "if (x = 0)" when you were supposed to write "if (x == 0)". The first will set variable x to the value 0 and then return true because the operation succeeded. The second will check the value currently stored in variable x and return true if the value is 0 and false otherwise.

This also reminds me of a personal story trying to debug an issue I had with a spreadsheet I needed to analyze. I wanted the program to run a certain task for every line in the file but it kept having some odd error where the first line worked correctly, but every other line would act as if there was an extra field at the beginning and shift over by one.

Eventually I found that the issue was certain versions of Windows defined a new line differently from the linux OS I was using. The end of every line in the spreadsheet had a "\r\n" that I could only find by converting the spreadsheet into ASCII and then I had to remove every "\r" in the file to get it working.

Orcs

Kinda strange how orcs have upward facing teeth in their upper jaws. That seems impractical. Also, the teeth sticking out of the chief's mouth when it's closed are the upper teeth.

I wouldn't be surprised if those upper canines were rootless similar to a boar's tusks. In a hand-to-hand fight, orcs probably prefer grappling and then slashing their opponents with those teeth. It would keep them safe from getting something in their mouth they don't want.

I've seen posts of people commenting on Ryoko Kui's artbooks and I have to strongly agree that she knows how to draw women of all sorts of body types. And this section is just her indulging in the beauty of large women.

And Laios being Laios, he didn't realize where the line talking about physical attraction becomes uncomfortable and ended up angering the chief because the chief thinks Laios is leering at his wives. He also made Marcille uncomfortable because he had to bring up people's attraction to ears.

Mimics

All the info we get here is stuff from chapter 0. These things are just hermit crabs that grow to cocnut crab size and will use anything they can find. The one using a bottle cap is adorable.

They probably ambush small bugs and lizards when they're that tiny.

Treasure Insects

Nothing much to say here. Turns out the party ended up not only throwing away super valuable jewels, but they also ate super valuable specimens. Maybe the value of a treasure insect is related to how similar to an actual jewel they are.

Just as a reminder, I offered a hypothetical exchange rate of 1G = $0.05 USD when talking about the price of a book in the last Miscellaneous Monster Tales. Even at that rate, those bugs would go for fairly high prices. The diamond one would end up at $2,500, which is what an actual diamond like that could cost.

Ghosts

I'd heard of the thing Marcille mentioned about the weight of the soul and did some digging into it.

The whole thing comes from a 1907 study by physician Duncan MacDougall who wanted to see if souls have weight. He measured the weight of six patients at the moment of their deaths and found that one of them lost 21 grams when they died. The study is considered utterly bogus since he had such a small sample size and only reported on the single sample that fit his hypothesis. MacDougall himself even said that the results he got shouldn't be taken as conclusive of anything, but the newspaper that released the story did a horrible job actually reporting it as they usually do.

Calling brewing a type of necromancy is definitely a fascinating way to think about it.

Living Pictures

If Living Pictures are just illusion spells, then Laios's attempts to get food from them were doomed from the start no matter what. Even though he got to eat in that third painting, the food wasn't real which explains why he still felt hungry after and why he couldn't pull food from the second painting.

This is supposed to be silly but this one is just an existential nightmare. Laios's self-doodle seems to have all the memories of the real Laios and is just trapped in that painting forever.

Love how bad Laios's artwork is.

Kelpies

This is more informative than anything. I'd heard of kelpies before this chapter and decided to do a quick look into them because I was curious about the liver bit.

Kelpies originate in Scotland and they can shapeshift, though they usually can't transform their hooves.

It's probably just one of those things parents told children to keep them from playing in the deep rivers. "Don't play there. You'll drown" implies that the child's incompetence will kill them. But children are the most overconfident, egoists you'll ever meet. So you instead have to tell them there's a monster that will lure you in and drown you.

Now I'm curious if there were native horses or horse-like animals in Scotland that inspired Kelpies. Maybe the general origin is horse-riders would try to wade through rivers on their horses only to drown when the horse panicked and it spun into the kelpie myths.

I never found anything about them not eating livers.

back

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi readthrough

14 notes · View notes

dootznbootz · 11 months ago

Note

Hi, what do you think about epic the musical as an Odyssey fan? Just curious

As an Epic the musical fan, I LOVE IT! Everyone's so talented and I love the music style!!! It's super fun and creative and it's amazing that Jay basically writes it all himself!

As an Odyssey fan... It's INCREDIBLY different. To the point where it's more "Odyssey inspired" than the actual Odyssey. But that's the thing. I wouldn't say Jay WANTS it to be word for word Odyssey and I DO think that'd be...kind of hard to do? Especially for Modern day.

It still has most of the "spirit" of the Odyssey though I feel like which is SUPER important. I'm saddened that very few adaptations really "balance" Odysseus' assholery and "goodness". I love "shithead Odysseus" but personally, I'm happy as long as an adaptation keeps to a "family man who wants to go home" for the most part :D (I really fucking hate the whole "Odysseus! The clever, swashbuckling hero who gets all the babes! ...He has a family?!" bullshit. That's very much not him. (He likes shiny things, yes but that's it)

More personal rambles below :D

I think it's interesting that Polites in Epic is more "peaceful" when in the Odyssey, he's called "captain of armies". And the fact he's killed right away when he was one of the last men alive.

Also Odysseus' and Eurylochus' friendship! I think it's sweet in the musical while in the Odyssey, it's quite tense. It gets more and more tense in Epic later on obviously but in the odyssey, it's been tense for a WHILE. Also!

Shout out to Armando Julian! Eurylochus' actor! I see a lot of people talk about Polites, Poseidon, Circe, and Hermes and they get a lot of fanart and love with their songs (rightfully so, ofc!!!) but Armando is really talented and people really sleep on Luck Runs Out! I'm about to become a vocal nerd for a moment. He's got a wonderful vibrato! I really love how he sings "feed" during Full Speed Ahead and "Captain, please" during Remember Them for example. His voice really fits with "speaking on behalf of the crew".

I know most people have a lot of feelings with the Circe Saga but I think that Jay did a great job considering... everything. Book 10 and 12 of the Odyssey are very complicated and I don't blame Jay for not wanting to delve into EVERYTHING with that. Odyssey Odysseus gets SA'd twice and while "I'm Not Sorry for Loving You" makes me worry, I really do think Jay will pull through with how fucked up Calypso's situation while still not having the graphic scenes in the Odyssey. It would be very hard to not only have what was basically an exchange for his men to be turned back to humans but if he interprets it happening throughout the entire year like some readers do, then that's really hard. :'D To truly portray Odysseus' fear of Circe while still having her be morally gray. As she very likely didn't mean Odysseus harm after a certain point but he was still afraid regardless.

Not only trying to not have such disturbing stuff shown in his musical but also, I think Jay was possibly trying to be considerate of Madeline Miller's Circe fans while still trying to show Odysseus discomfort and distress???? 😅 Sounds weird but like, as soon as I heard Circe talking about the nymphs being like her daughters and that she protects them, I thought that. That book is HUGE and I'm sure that many fans of it don't necessarily want to see Circe's "I do whatever I want. I don't need a reason. Woe, Oink be upon ye." as the most likely reason they were turned into pigs in the Odyssey is that ODYSSEUS is associated with them (the boar scar, the metaphors when talking about him in the Iliad, his trusted Swineherd Eumeaus, BOAR TUSK HELMET. Like, that's kind of the animal that represents Odysseus. (even when a spear pierces through a boar's hide, it'll STILL charge as they're that ferocious and determined...Just like Odysseus, a man who should be dead but isn't because of his will to go home. Homer didn't write them being turned into pigs necessarily as a "Men are pigs" thing.

I think the modern shift in how the situation seen today and other media of the Odyssey is why he wrote the songs he did. And considering it all? He did a good job navigating it. I'm very happy with the results!

I have more thoughts probably but those have been stewing in my brain for a while :D I definitely look forward to the next sagas!

#Mad rambles #ask #anon #shot by odysseus #silly thing but as I basically write Odysseus (and Penelope) as asexual. whenever I see stuff that's like 'Odysseus pushed aside his lust i #order to stay loyal' I get confused like “He didn't get lust in the first place? OHHHH yeah. My headcanon.”#He wants Penelope. Even if there was an easier “better” woman who might possibly even look similar. he doesn't want it.#like xD I mention him finding Penelope's strange naiad traits but if someone else does the same things she does? He'll still be like 😐

45 notes · View notes

puppetmaster13u · 1 year ago

Text

Who wants a WIP with some Batdad

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

“B, catch me!” Bruce had barely landed in the cave before there was a small child barrelling towards him from the computers, trailing a blanket tied into a mimicry of a cape. Thankfully, Dick was incredibly light and his reflexes were good enough to catch the child who decided to take a leap into his arms. “B, guess what!” the child in his arms giggled, mischief dancing in blue eyes as he patted at the fake wound across his chest. He let out a questioning noise, pausing for a moment before he managed to force himself to properly speak. “What, chum?” “Alfred says I’m good enough to start trainin’ with the proper sticks!” his kid beamed, giving a gap-toothed grin. Right, he’d been learning with foam for the last few months, with the hopes of finding a proper weapon fit for him eventually. Bruce smiled at Dick, a bright feeling of lightness on his shoulders. “That’s amazing chum, I think that deserves some icecream and a movie night, what do you think?” There was a cheer, itty bitty hands raising in excitement as he laughed quietly. “Why don’t you head up and pick out a movie while I change into something more casual?” he booped their itty bitty nose, eliciting a giggle as they wiggled up on his arm and flipped off to scamper up the stairs. He smiled after the somersaulting child who disappeared into the shadows, reaching up to unhook the curved claws from where they rested below his neck. He sighed, taking a moment to breathe and finish shifting mentally from the Bat to just Bruce, even if it was getting harder to differentiate the two. His hands found their way to the cowl next, slipping it off and over the ears, which he turned off after a moment. The spike-guards that helped hold them in place came off piece by piece with silent efficiency, then the ears themselves alongside the mouthguard that made his teeth appear tusk-like. An idea that Dick had put forth after another round of nature documentaries. Amusement twitched on his lips as he carefully removed the layers around the undersuit meticulously crafted to allow for his full range of motion without taking away armor. Along with mimicking a mixture of chitin-esque scales and velvet-like fur, which was slightly new since Dick insisted that since bats had fur the Bat should too. Which honestly, a fair point. Finally he was clear to unclip each piece of the wing harness, bracing the limbs on the area they had built specifically for such an action to slip out, leaving him in the undershirt. Honestly it was better to do it with another person, but taking the wings off alone every once in a while was fine as well, as long as he tested them before taking them out the next night. Stretching, he unhooked the last bit of the wing membrane from his legs then the layer of armor on the boots that mimicked claws, even if not functional. Huh, there was an idea- for later though. He had promised Dick that they could have a movie night after all.

#what's outside au #what's out there au #cryptid batfam #batdad #batman au #bruce wayne #my writing #writing wip #wip #story wip #dick grayson #richard grayson #dcu #dc #batman #cryptid batman #mechanical wings #Bruce whenever he sees a child: They so SMOL

137 notes · View notes

sirsadly · 2 years ago

Note

request: orc/human - human is the orc's tailor; are they upset cuz the clothing keeps getting messed up? are the appalled by the quality of their former clothing for being so shoddy? does the orc's current ensemble simply not bring out their eyes? are they distracted during a fitting for their friend who deserves nice clothes dammit and didn't expect their ripped-ness to be such a problem because it isn't with their other customers? is this fantasy or modern? -shrugs- i apparently have more thoughts than i thought but this work training is so very boring - feel free to use none of them but the overall prompt but i crave anything that doesn't discuss "the five subcategories on this slide" pls

i hope you got through that work training okay, and you enjoy this mini fic. sorry for being beyond late ;)

Where My Hand Treads

male orc with gender neutral reader

591 words | sfw

Their thighs ate up most of the measuring tape. Their very same thigh you perfectly custom made pants for, that now stretched taut against the gulf of their muscles.

As their tailor, you were happy about their frequent patronage, but it felt like they carefully maneuvered the small shop you worked at least twice a week with an old garment at hand needing repair.

Sometimes that garment was something you made a week prior that needed mending. You wondered what their lifestyle could be like to warrant this many repairs, not that your wallet was complaining. Curiosity that is what we will call it for now, what that shapely legs do for a living.

You could excuse the ripping and loose threads, but what had you up in arms with annoyance, frustration, and maybe even anger was how his ensemble made the least amount of sense. Though he had all the pieces of a professional suit, he never seemed to put the right colours together. And when he did something of the proportions was off, or fraying at the hems hence coming to the shop.

Most importantly it hurt to see a diamond just covered in mud, his clothes never seemed to bring out his personality or the colour of his warm brown eyes. You told him as much after measuring him again for the second time this month, to make sure his clothes were not faulty on your part.

“You want to style me? But I don’t think you provide those services.” He said slowly. “Is this an exclusive offer for my frequent patronage, if so do other clients get this treatment as well.”

“You’re right we don’t. I think I’ve never offered anyone this. It’s just that you clearly need help assembling an outfit, especially if you are going to be here every day needing a garment repaired.”

His eyes wandered towards the rumbling ceiling of your small shop under the subway tracks, rubbing at the back of his head in thought. You have embarrassed him, your banter does not always read as playful as you would hope. Your ears heat in shame, in the already hot summer afternoon. Your words might not always lift a person’s confidence but you knew what you could achieve with your sewing machine and your critical eye. You knew it every time a client looked in the mirror after a fitting.

“Please allow me, I just think you are not shining to your highest capacity. Everyone has certain colours and cuts that make them look effortlessly put together. Not everyone gets to learn that, it’s something you either gotta be passionate about or learn early on.”

Your eyes looked straight ahead to his distracted ones, trying to catch the colour change of his mood. “I would like to extend that knowledge so that you may be your brightest self. I did not mean to embarrass you…” you trailed off after his lips pulled tight. He seemed to be enduring you, that expression twin to those braving the biting wind.

His tusks jutted out, a bit large for his face with his brown eyes, squat nose, and long curls.

You were already imagining the colours you would pull for him, neutral reds and browns for his green skin, toeing that line to bring out his complexion. He would be magnificent. This you could do, this where your hands have tread before.

“My body is in your capable hands, Tailor.” The comment did not go unnoticed, but you knew words could only go so far.

#sirsadly writings #monster romance #monster lover #monster boyfriend #monster fucker #monster x reader #requests are open #mini fics #exophilia #monster/reader #monster/human #orc/human #orc lover #orc x reader #orc x human #request answered

244 notes · View notes

sco07ut · 4 months ago

Text

ok one person asked about the reasonings behind my furry au so here’s (almost) every character in the show (sorry)

tubbs + edward: weird inbred pug adjacent dogs, i don’t even need to explain this one but the noses, the breed’s reputation for interbreeding, the viciousness untrained dogs can exhibit

val: deer, aside from the obvious visual link (mark gatiss’s lankiness and grace when playing val has undeniable deer-like qualities) deer are also surprisingly brutal at times despite being herbivores. they’ve been known to eat small birds to supplement nutrients & i feel like this ties into her matching harvey’s freak even though he usually seems to be weirder than her at first glance

harvey: toad, for obvious reasons

benjamin: frog, because despite being in the same (animal) family, he’s too different + wrong to ever be accepted by harvey. there’s this fundament divide between them that’ll never come together. (val being a deer could also be seen as her being more accepting of benjamin since she also isn’t a toad and doesn’t have those standards)

chloe + radclyffe: frog tadpoles (in that life stage where they still have a tail but have grown all four legs), doing an excellent job at pretending to be toads

geoff: pig, pig mask from apocalypse + him being the ‘fat one’. there are probably better choices but honestly idk i’m just feeling pig vibes for geoff. perchance for violence when you least expect it but also strangely endearing

mike: boar, the slightly better version of the pig, bigger and tusk-ier. also with a violent streak (asking geoff to kill his wife in the anniversary specials). they’ve got a sort of sturdy feel about them which for some reason i relate to mike

brian: mouse, pathetic and cowardly, he never stands up for himself against geoff + just endures what’s going on, though perhaps with a bit of snark (adjacent to a mouse biting you with their tiny little mouths)

pauline: fox, animal associated with a tricky & cunning nature and in fables is almost always the crow’s opposition. fated to be enemies etc. foxes in folklore are known to use deception for their own gain or to get where they need to be (the burger thing, going behind mickey’s back as part of the deal to be released from prison, pulling off the entire dementia life insurance scam)

ross: crow, animal associated with a tricky & cunning nature and in fables is almost always the crow’s opposition. basically same as pauline, they’re both tricky and manipulate the other into doing what they need to do. also, when it comes down to physical prowess, the fox is always going to win

mickey: capuchin monkey, s3e1. on a more serious note, monkeys are associated with being creative + cheeky which i feel just work with mickey’s personality. the capuchin part comes from the fact that they have adorable sweet faces and aren’t anywhere near as terrifying as your more well known species (chimpanzees, orangutans, gorillas, whatevs)

cathy: weasel, also often considered a tricky, cunning character in fables + in my mind a weasel would be like the fox’s enemy. idk if that’s a thing in real life

hilary: cow, his dvd extras bio having his fav animal be moo cow + the cow mask in apocalypse + his wife being a literal cow

maurice + his wife: llama and goat respectively. maurice being a llama is mostly just to contrast against his wife since they’re more reluctant to just eat what they’re given, compared to goats who’ll devour whatever they can get their trotters on (linking to cutting the special stuff into her own meat, making something subpar but still edible)

sam: politicians are often associated with snakes & snakes also have a reputation for eating whatever they can fit their mouths around (sam still eating the special stuff despite acknowledging that it ‘isnt right’ or whatever he said)

farmer jed tinsel: collie, hard working farm dogs but liable to going absolutely insane if left to their own devices (see, andrew)

chinnery: giraffe, linked to the giraffe from apocalypse + just as a personal aside, melman from madagascar 2 (who becomes a shoddy doctor). also visual similarities, being tall and blonde. this one is more of a stretch but you could argue that the way giraffes give birth (standing up to allow their newborn baby to fall six feet upon entering this world) could be analogous to chinnery’s veterinary practices - swift and brutal

charlie + stella: swans, someone accurately pointed out the whole ‘mated for life’ thing, which (if we ignore the specials) is what charlie n stella are pulling off. swans are also vicious little cunts which links to their personalities quite nicely. & another stretch but swans can be fiercely protective of their offspring, which in a way could parallel the way stella copes with julie’s death, she’s fiercely protective of her memories of julie

les: songbird, but like specifically one in captivity alone, doomed to sing forever but never find their calling (sorry)

babs: peacock, much to her displeasure, visibly amab but still undeniably beautiful + eye catching

iris: rabbit, we have all heard the phrase breeding like rabbits. also, does can start procreating at 4 months old which parallels iris having judee at 14 (sorry if this is how you found out about that). i think there’s also something to say regarding iris’ like neverending supply of energy to work as many jobs as she does + also (sort of) look after 11? kids vs rabbits/hares in folklore being swift + energetic

judee: pedigree cat, the very image of wealth and luxury, her entire existence came at a high cost. these cats are also very high maintenance, between properly looking after their fur + dealing with the medical issues that can stem from dodgy breeding. stereotypically quite bitchy animals too

bernice: sheepdog, i did have a brief debate with the gf over what sort of animal would best represent a religious leader. particularly in christianity, parishioners are referred to by their pastor as a flock (& it also ties into the biblical stories of shepherds travelling to see angels or the birth of jesus or whatever), so it would stand that their leader would thematically mirror an animal that could lead a flock. i did consider a ram (especially because the horns would be a fun nod to bernice’s utter demonic personality) but ultimately i settled on an english sheepdog since they also have a bit of a rough side + have cute little fringes like bernice

pop, richie + al: wolves, distinct hierarchy in their family, reflected by how wolves will generally always submit to pack members with more authority than them

ollie: chihuahua, ne’er before have i seen an individual so clearly afflicted with little man syndrome. yappy + annoying + prone to picking fights with everyone sorry i mean the wrong people

phil: cheetah, for cheating his way to the top by sleeping with that one guy. only half joking. also partially appearance based

dave: capybara, very tolerant, reflects him putting up with ollie for so long. genuinely struggled with this so that’s the only explanation i have aside from they both also have brown fair

tish: koala, also purely vibe based. she seems like she would have stds SORRY

lance: bearded dragon, a lizard species that can regrow their limbs (lol)

ernest (ableist guy): labrador, generally well-meaning but far more likely to mess something up than actually be of benefit to anyone

mick (cave guy): mole, underground vibes

sorry can you tell i don’t have many thoughts about some of the bg characters

ally + henry: hyenas, known to be violent animals + the obvious ‘laughing’ parallels to them being cunts in the cinema and also their appreciation for killingths

vinnie + reenie: two old hens, always clucking and tutting about something. slightly scratchy personalities vs chickens being known for scratching up the ground (it’s a stretch i knoww i’m running out of ideas)

pam, pamela, whatever: elk, the bugle. that or those baby seals you see on tiktok making stupid, weirdly human noises

herr lipp: donkey, ass jokes

frau lipp: bat, vampire jokes

i wish there was more to these but it’s literally what it boils down to

papa lazarou: some sort of freakish chimera, primarily a lion (ringleader of the circus and plays into the idea of there being one lion in the pride + a bunch of lionesses, him and his wives) but with other bits and bobs of other animals like a chimpanzee (evil) and a crocodile + elephant (representing the animals he stuffed wives into). my girlfriend was also like ‘what if his extra parts were bits he took from his wives’ which i thought was hilarious and am stealing

alvin: sheep(?), thematically used to represent people who follow the crowd + are quite mainstream, in this case this refers to his sexual practices. also considered to need someone else to be the decision maker, this could apply to both sunny and judith

sunny: dolphin(?), known to seek pleasure + highs by snorting sponges or whatever. sexual freaks

judith: praying mantis. pure vibes

@dangerliesbeforeyou @sleepysuburb (hope you guys don’t mind the tag, just saw u were interested in seeing more the tags :])

#genuinely sorry about how long this is #i only meant to do the main cast and then i jst kept on going for some reason #anyway not tagging everyone for obvious reasons #the league of gentlemen

18 notes · View notes