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dontmindmyshadowhunting · 3 years

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The new Shadowhunter Academy (Fan Fic) - Chapter 1

In the mood for a bit of Shadowhunter Academy drama so there goes chap 1 of my new fic (it's part of my "To never being parted series" though it can be read as a standalone story).

Ao3 link here.

*****

This is how I die, Ash thought. He was surprised by how indifferent he was to the news. He had always imagined he would have more fighting in him.

If he were honest, it was not such a bad place to die. Green grass had started to grow again in the lands of Faerie, where there had only been wasteland and death before. Maybe it was for the best. Maybe Ash was exactly what he had been named after. Ash, the symbol of rebirth, his blood fertilizing the land and giving way to lush vegetation and the chirping of birds. Through his blurred vision, he could see Jace lying a few feet away, unconscious. He held on to the steady rise of his chest that told him he was still alive. But barely.

Ash coughed up blood in the already drenched soil. He tried to lift himself up, but the muscles in his arms were failing him and the slightest move equalled to excruciating pain. He felt as if all the bones in his body had been crushed into small pieces that were piercing through his organs.

He thought about the girl he had met in the weapons room, the girl in the drawing. Drusilla Blackthorn. There had been loneliness in her blue-green eyes, yet there had also been a fierce will to live despite everything. A hope beyond despair. You and I are the same, he told her in his mind. We witness the worst horrors, suffer the most intense grief, but keep our chins up and stand ready to fight to live another day. We do not give up.

Ash craned his neck sluggishly to get a better look at his opponent.

The new King of both Seelie and Unseelie Courts, a Herondale no less, who looked more like a Californian surfer boy with his tousled blond hair and unforgiving bright blue eyes, was standing before him, hands curled into fists against his hips, his white wings tipped with gold rustling behind him. He was glorious, an angel of death, and Ash idly wondered how someone so beautiful could be so cruel.

“Stand. Now. There is no fun in striking someone lying on the ground,” the King said, his blue eyes rolling in a very unkingly manner. Even his voice was not that of a monster. It was a nice, clear voice, that sounded like it belonged to a sweet boy. Ash knew, though, that he was anything but. He needed to distract him, to play for time.

“All these faeries that you have massacred,” Ash managed to utter through the blood in his throat. He flinched at the pain that the mere act of talking caused him. “And you call yourself their ruler… I don’t understand. Why this… bloodbath? What did they do to you?”

“What did they do to me? What did they do to me?” If the King’s face bore any expression at all, it would be pure hatred and contempt. “How about what did they do to my mother? And her parents, and their parents before that? Did they really think I would never find out, stay in the dark forever? Remain a blind and helpless mundane my whole life? I see them every single night in my dreams, you know… I am haunted by the cries and howls of my ancestors. Always running, always hiding, never allowed to rest, never allowed to live. No more. I crushed the faeries who stood in my way as if they were cockroaches under my shoe. If there was still such a thing as Shadowhunters, I would have them suffer the same fate, if not worse, for they have betrayed my bloodline just as much.”

As the Herondale King talked, Ash slowly moved his hand to clutch the folded paper inside the left pocket of his jacket. The psychopathic witch that had grown so fond of him – Annabel, the mere thought of her still sent shivers down his spine – had at least taught him one useful thing. How to get out of this hell hole.

He held on tight to the drawing in his bloody fingers. If he focused enough on creating an interdimensional Portal to her… Surely, he would go back to where he came from himself. The drawing had probably been made with material found in Thule, but the artist… the artist was from the other world. Maybe it could work. It was a long shot, but it was the only chance he and Jace had.

My blood, willingly given. He had lost enough blood as it was, but it had certainly not been willingly given. Trying to grab his sword, which was lying a few feet away, would draw too much attention. A deep paper cut could work. That’s how potent his blood was. He brought the paper to the palm of his hand and sliced through the skin, murmuring the incantation.

As the Portal started shimmering before him, Ash heaved a sigh of relief, causing a sting in his lungs. That was the first step. Now, how the hell would he find the strength to haul himself and Jace through it, without being stopped by the Faerie King?

“Wow, you will have to teach me how to do that,” the Herondale King said, showing for the first time a flicker of emotion. “I mean, I probably have enough power for that – Aren’t you like a cheap knockoff of me?”

Ash was spared to give an answer as the King whipped around at the sound of swords being drawn out behind him. The Riders of Mannan. There were only five of them left.

“You again?” The King rolled his eyes. “Ever thought of a retirement plan? Aren’t you like, thousands of years old?”

One of the Riders shrieked. “You killed two of our brothers. It has become personal. We will never acknowledge you as our new King. So that leaves us with only one option.”

“Yep, got it. You pick option B. Getting your decrepit asses kicked by me, myself and I.”

The Faerie King advanced with a casual stride on the five Riders, drawing two longswords that he immediately started twirling as if they were cheerleaders’ batons.

This was Ash’s chance.

He crawled to Jace, grabbing their two swords - Heosphorus and Phaesphorus - on his way. Pulling on a strength he didn’t know he still had, he finally managed to stand, ignoring the ache in his limbs – he had known torture and pain had become a familiar companion – and hauled Jace’s body up and they both stepped through the Portal, with only two swords and a folded bloodstained paper as their interdimensional trip’s luggage. He let himself be transported in between worlds, drained and already fainting from the strained effort.

When he came to, he was lying on a sand beach, the sun barely peeking out from the horizon, casting a reddish glow on the sea. He inhaled deeply the clean and salty air, like a treat to his lungs, so pure compared to the one in Thule. He turned his head to find Jace’s limp body a few feet away. If only he had been taught how to draw the Angel’s Runes his uncle had told him about. The ones that could heal the wounds and ease the pain.

He heard voices and started to drag Jace’s battered body behind a nearby rock, breathing heavily as he did. The fresh air and the sound of the soft push-pull of the ocean made him feel better already.

He peered around to see three figures approaching.

He instantly recognized the girl. Drusilla. She looked a little bit older than he remembered but she had the same thick and luscious dark brown hair and freckled milky skin. She was wearing her pyjamas, black fabric with a pattern of white skulls. She was laughing carelessly, throwing her head back, and it made Ash smile, his zygomatic muscles almost aching as they awakened from their deep slumber. They hadn’t been put to such use in a while. She was holding the hand of a younger boy with rumpled hair of the exact same colour. Their eyes shared the same singular summer-blue shade. Probably her little brother. He seemed to be around ten years old, but Ash wasn’t very good at guessing age.

The third person was a very tall boy, with hair as black as a crow’s feathers, walking along the water’s edge. Ash couldn’t see his face because he was looking away, toward the sea. There was something fragile, almost poetic, in the graceful curve of his neck and the delicate line of his jaw. Something hypnotising about the careful yet purposeful way he moved his long limbs. Ash almost felt disappointed he could not see the face of the person they belonged to.

“Tavvy!” Drusilla cried out as the younger boy released her hand to run to the edge of a tide pool.

He picked something in the water and held it up in triumph.

“Starfish,” he yelled, hopping up and down excitedly. “I have found a starfish!”

Tavvy ran, though not in the direction of his sister, but of the older dark-haired boy.

The tall boy held out his hand and the younger one put the starfish gingerly into the other’s palm.

“Pisaster ochraceus, also known as the purple or ochre sea star,” the mysterious boy said, after a single, swift glance at the starfish. He had a deep, raspy voice.

“It’s beautiful! Please! Please! Can I dry it and keep it in my bedroom at the Institute? I could have it framed, and maybe even painted by Jules!”

“It’s a keystone species that controls mussel populations. It was nearly wiped out by the sea star wasting syndrome. In other words… Waste of a perfectly good starfish,” the voice of the graceful boy caught at his last words and he trailed off, his head still turned toward the sea, almost as if he was no longer talking to Tavvy. He lifted his free hand absently to grasp a shiny object - a silver pendant? - resting on his chest.

The three Shadowhunters snapped their heads in the opposite direction from where Ash was hiding, when a fourth person called. A blond-haired girl – probably a Shadowhunter as well, though she had pointy ears - was coming down the beach wearing slippers, an apron tied around her slender body.

“Breakfast is ready! I have managed not to burn the whole stack of pancakes this time.”

Ash heard his stomach growl. How long had it been since he had last eaten? Probably days. But much sharper than the pain caused by hunger or even by the battle wounds, he felt longing… Longing for a normal life, in a normal happy family. What would he not give for carefree strolls on the beach in the dawn, surrounded by loved ones, followed by something as simple as a breakfast of – even burnt he didn’t mind – pancakes?

The landscape swirled and changed into the dark, dirty and moisty walls of a cell. He was so thirsty, so hungry, and so cold. Two Unseelie guards were staring at him through the bars, with a smirk on their narrow faces.

“We are here to bring you to your bedroom. Yes, you will get a bedroom. How fancy is that? The King just wanted to make sure you knew it was in your best interest to fully cooperate. From now on, and for as long as you behave, you will benefit from the most luxurious accommodation befitting to your royal lineage.” Ash – the younger, clueless version of him – found he did not care for a fancy room. He had known the most decadent living conditions and the worst. Knowing the full spectrum, he had realized nothing really mattered but a place to call home. Mom, where are you when I need you the most?

The door rattled and one of the guards came in.

“You have a pretty face, skinny boy,” he said, as he opened Ash’s bloody shackles. “When we will have cleaned you up, maybe you and I could have a little fun.”

Ash spat on the rude intruder.

The faerie was about to slap him when the other guard grabbed his wrist.

“Careful… He is the Seelie Queen’s son. You can’t take liberties with him as you can with other regular prisoners.”

“He may be of royal blood, but his father Sebastian Morgenstern died leaving us alone to bear the consequences of his mad plans, to suffer the Cold Peace. The traitor is the reason why the Fair Folk are treated as if they are less than nothing.”

A wave of pure hatred – that he had not felt at the time, having never met his father – woke Ash up from his dreams, his whole body drenched in sweat. He almost sighed in relief as he realized he was in his wide bedroom, in the house in the hollow hill.

There was a pain in his stomach, different from the one caused by hunger. He immediately ran to his bathroom and retched above the sink. There had been no time to run to the toilet. He opened the tap and splashed water over his face. As he stared at himself in the mirror, he noticed there were dark circles under his eyes and that his features, although smooth and ageless as all faeries’ were, bore the permanent mark of having seen too much horror, suffered too much pain, loneliness, and sorrow before he had even reached adulthood. He swiftly schooled them into the mask he wore in public. He had become good at that.

****

“Riders of Mannan, tremble!” Mina cried out as she burst into the kitchen and started running around the table on her little legs, brandishing her Cortana baby-sized wooden replica. Her dark hair was now long enough that she could wear them in two tiny braids. It was Kit’s job, and Mina loved to barge into his room at ungodly hours with a hairbrush to jump up and down on his bed until he had performed his daily task. So much for privacy.

“Oh no, here comes Emma Carstairs!” Kit raised an empty pan from the stove to use it as a shield. “Quick, run! Or she will end us all!”

“Nooooo, Kit-Kat” Mina paused to strike a dramatic pose and rolled her eyes. “You are not a Rider.”

“No? What am I today?” He asked, putting down the pan.

“My fiancéééé!”

“Ooooh.” Kit drew himself to his full height, putting on a very serious don’t-mess-with-mine-and-I-won’t-mess-with-you face and brushed his hand through his hair in a mock nervous gesture. “Beware Riders, I will strike you with my wits, if not my crossbow.”

“No. Not Julian. I have changed my mind. I want to marry Tiberius Blackthorn!” She said and shook both her hands in front of her the way she always did when she was very excited about something.

“Oh. Oh. Well don’t tell Julian that, I am not sure he will appreciate the swap.”

“Do Tiberius! Do Tiberius!” Mina exclaimed, hopping up and down. Kit knelt in front of her and rested his hands on her shoulders to calm her down. “Do him, please!” Mina whined.

“Sure, Min. I will imitate Tiberius but please stop shouting that,” Kit said, feeling heat rush up his entire face.

“Yeaaay! Do him!”

“SHHHHhhh,” Kit said, putting a finger on her pouty lips. “Understood, Min-Min. I will play Ty’s part.”

Their parents were in the room next door and though both knew that he and Ty were a thing now, Kit had obviously not gone into detail as to the physical part of their relationship. He expected that they would simply guess and leave it at that.

He had a vivid memory of the time he had been cornered to sit through the “sex talk.” Tessa and Jem had made some Earl Grey tea and scones for the occasion and had taken the opportunity during one of Mina’s naps, to go through the whole process of explaining to Kit that it was the most natural thing in the world and that he shouldn’t feel uncomfortable raising any questions he had on the subject. Kit had dutifully listened, his head bent and his ears red, slouched in the middle of the couch, fingers knotting and unknotting where they rested on his lap. As the awkward conversation had gone on and on, he had disappeared little by little into the plump cushions, wishing he could vanish entirely inside the furniture.

Jem had been the old-fashioned gentleman, talking about “mutual respect” and “the shared responsibility of contraception and adequate protection”, but had been clearly as red faced as Kit, while Tessa had been the modern mom, freely and animatedly speaking about “exploring one’s sexuality” and “ignoring peer pressure and imaginary standards”.

When Jem had started listing all the STDs he had encountered in his life as a Silent Brother, Kit had secretly hoped there was poison in the tea. Dropping dead in the middle of the living room would have made for an adequate diversion. Fortunately, Tessa had silenced Jem with a glare.

In the back of his mind, Kit had wondered if Ty had gone through the same ordeal. He had imagined scary-overprotective Julian discussing sexual intercourse and condoms and had suddenly been profoundly relieved that – where Kit was concerned – the task had befallen to Tessa and Jem.

Kit had to admit, they employed the same thoroughness and dedication in everything they taught him. With Jem, Kit had learnt how to fight, how to heal wounds, how to waltz and – though that part still required a lot of training to get over his bad habits – how to behave like a gentleman. Tessa had taught Kit how to drive, how to cook and how to uncover and harness his First Heir powers. Both his parents had given him history lessons and they were the reason why he now knew how to speak five languages. He had read more books since he had joined their home than throughout the rest of his previous life. While Johnny Rook had taught Kit how to pick locks and steal pockets, Tessa and Jem had taught him trust and boundless generosity.

Truth be told, they were the best parents he could ever have dreamt of. He had the best family he could ever dream of, he thought, watching Mina’s big dark eyes widening as her gaze caught the plate of homemade chocolate cookies.

“Oooh you baked cookies! Can I have one Kit-Kat? Pleeeeeease?” Thank God for her short attention span.

“You already had a croissant this morning, Mina. You can have a cookie tomorrow. Remember, us Shadowhunters must eat healthily.”

Mina raised her eyebrow at him, in a way that reminded him of his boyfriend. Kit slipped a cookie in her tiny fingers.

“One. And remember how generous I was when I am sent away to sugar-addicts rehab and I beg you for one last shot of candy for the road.”

Mina nodded. He loved the way she always acted as if she understood his ramblings.

“Kit?” Tessa called as she entered the kitchen, waving her phone. “It’s Jace. He tells me you’ve been dodging his calls.”

“I am not here,” Kit mouthed.

“He told me you would say that. So, he wants you to know he still has this picture of you from last Christmas and he will not hesitate to send it to a certain dark-haired Centurion if you don’t take the call.”

Kit shot out his hand, palm up, and Tessa handed over her phone.

“This is blackmail.” Kit tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder as he swept the plate of cookies away from sight.

“Never said I was above blackmail. Just make sure it’ll work if you are ever to use it.”

“Is it another one of your cardinal rules and guidelines to being a proper Herondale? I am pretty sure half of them are made up.”

“They’re not.”

“They are,” Tessa mouthed, grimacing, as she whisked Mina away from the kitchen.

“So, here’s the thing. I usually act as a guest lecturer at the Academy, you know, for basic stuff. Learning how to jump and fall properly, balance in swordfight, choice of weapon… I was scheduled for next week, but Clary decided to plan her art gallery opening at the same time. So, I was looking for the best person to fill my shoes and of course immediately thought… who else than Kit?”

“Liar. I know you asked Emma first. What’s her excuse?”

“She sprained her ankle during training two days ago.”

“She posted a video of herself dancing in a nightclub with Cristina and Mark. That was yesterday.”

“This girl sure knows how to put on a brave face.”

“She was doing backflips in front of a cheering crowd.”

“Like I said, brave face. So, you’re in?”

“Do I really have a choice?”

“Not really, but I thought it would be nicer if I asked.”

“Whatever.” Kit grumbled.

“Great. You won’t regret it. I will even buy you dinner in Manhattan while you’re in New York. Fancy restaurant with amazing desserts.”

“Are you trying to seduce me, Jace Herondale?”

“Just lie down and let me do the rest.”

“WHAT?”

“Sorry, not talking to you. I’m in the middle of a training session. We’re stretching. Have you trained this morning?”

“It’s 2 PM here, Jace. I’m on my break. I already trained for six hours, starting at the crack of dawn.”

“You put us all to shame.”

“So, I guess I’ll leave you to it.”

“I was not finished.”

“Raziel, what else is there?”

“The Scholomance is sending a Centurion to represent them and provide a two-days training course for the Academy’s senior students who wish to apply to join them after they graduate.”

“Oh,” Kit said, with a familiar flutter around his stomach. “Do you…” He swallowed. “Do they already know who they will send?”

“Probably that Joshi guy. But it’s not set in stone. Jia Penhallow told me they have been trying to convince their best Centurion to go for months now, but he keeps saying no.”

“Oh, so he gets to say no.”

“I told her Herondales can’t resist a challenge...”

“You didn’t.”

“… and that I had a secret weapon to convince him to go this time.”

“You mean me.”

“Use your body!”

“WHAT?”

“Not talking to you, sorry. Beatriz, use your whole body’s strength, not just the muscles in your arms!”

“Thank the Angel.”

“What was I saying?”

“You were using me to try to convince Tiberius Blackthorn – who absolutely loathes talking in public, by the way – to give a two-days training course at the Academy for Scholomance applicants. Jace, I don’t know how I feel about this. I don’t want him to feel obligated in any way, just because…”

“… just because you let him play with your sword?” Jace offered.

“God, Jace. I am going to pretend you never said that.”

“Make us proud.”

“I hate you.”

“Love you, too. Gotta go. Catch up later.”

“Jace,” Kit groaned in frustration, but Jace had already hung up.

Tagging @gabtapia <3

#the dark artifices #the wicked powers #kit and ty #kit herondale x ty blackthorn #kit herongraystairs #kit herondale #ty blackthorn #tiberius blackthorn #jace herondale #jem carstairs #tessa gray #mina carstairs #tsc fan fiction #cassandraclare #the shadowhunters chronicles icons #the shadowhunter chronicles

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aros001 · 3 years

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Read through light novel vol. 7. Random thoughts.

I swear Goblin Slayer looks like he's blushing through his armor on that cover. I don't blame him, given it's Cow Girl, but that's what it looks like.

I always get a laugh out of Goblin Slayer's completely unwillingness or inability to remember any type of monster outside of goblins. I think he only knows what vampires and dragon are because they're the most popular monster adventurers want to beat and thus the ones he'd hear about the most. He repeatedly can't remember what an ogre is despite dropping an ocean on one, nor the dark elf or troll, and I think last volume he needed a long minute to remember what giant rats are. No surprise he can't remember what the Loch Ness Monster's name was in this book, or what an elephant is. Mokele Mubenbe. It's hard for me to even pronounce that.

Lizard Priest was in the process of bringing each of the nuns upstairs into the chapel from the basement storehouse. “Stay strong, now. When dawn breaks, we can take you somewhere less upsetting.” “Thank you... Truly...” “Think nothing of it. We may revere different deities, but monkeys came from lizards, in the end. That makes us cousins.” “Heh-heh... You lizardmen...say the strangest...things...”

I don't say this often enough but Lizard Priest is just kind of the best, you know? He's like a big, scaly, green teddy bear. He's a very comforting presence and such an easy person for everyone, including those of different faiths like Priestess and the elves, to be friends with.

At first I was disappointed Priestess didn't get a cure poison miracle, given how often goblins come at the party using poisoned weapons, but her Purify miracle has certainly proved its usefulness, both for cleaning water and air as well as helping psychologically by cleaning up the victims of the goblins. Doesn't restore their stolen virginity but at least leaves less marks and filth for them to be constantly reminded what the goblins did to them. Plus, Goblin Slayer is no stranger to using smoke or poison gas, so Purify is probably good to have on hand to keep such methods from harming the party themselves.

In the middle of this flood of stories, Goblin Slayer said, “So this is your home.” “That’s right.” “That’s good.” “Well—” High Elf Archer’s eyes narrowed like a smiling cat’s. “It’s where my heart is.” Goblin Slayer nodded. Cow Girl blinked at him for a moment. Then he said, “And there are goblins near it.” The note of anger in his voice was unmistakable.

I love all the members of the party, so naturally I'm enjoying all the bonding moments between Goblin Slayer and High Elf Archer in this book, as well as the parallels he keeps drawing between them, especially in regards to their sisters. Their interactions are fun because their personalities contrast so much but in a different way than his and Priestess' or her and Dwarf Shaman's.

Then she went on, “Actually, even a lot of elvish adventurers act like that, especially if they’ve just left the forest.” It’s not that they have no sense of danger, just a poor grasp of scale.

That last bit is a good way of describing a lot of this series. There are people ignorant of how truly dangerous the goblins can be but outside of porcelain ranks it's usually not deliberately so. They just live in a world of other insanely large threats that don't like being ignored, with the elves in particular having members of their species whom lived through the old battles of the gods. Goblins are basically pests and goblin slaying pest control. They're a problem but barely a blip on the radar when you're comparing them to freaking Sauron, whom it feels like you just recently finally got rid of.

There is something absolutely hilarious to me that this man in dirty leather and steel armor, coated in faded red stains, who refuses to ever take his helmet off, barely talks, frequently walks in a manner that's described as violent, and who's sole obsession it is to wipe out every last goblin in existence, is known as The Kindest Man on the Frontier. But I still love it because it makes sense. Most villages on the frontier can't get help with their goblin problems because there's not a lot of fame or money in killing goblins and bigger threats are given more the priority, so they're just left on their own. But then Goblin Slayer comes in, doing the job without any thought to reward or praise. He's saved god knows how many kidnapped women prevented the destruction of countless villages. From the outside, yeah, it looks like just simple kindness. Get to know him a little better and you see that it's obsession. And when you get as close as Priestess and Cow Girl, you agree that it's kindness.

It's so cool that the elf adventurer the party saved on their first quest together made a reappearance, even if it's a small one. Like with Wizard's little brother wanting to avenge her, it's good to show that the people brutalized by the goblins aren't just props to show how serious the situation is. They're real (albeit fictional) people, who had their own lives and people who loved them, so having them still matter later in the story and them trying to get at least some closure is good writing.

I was talking with someone before in my vol. 6 post that something I really like about Goblin Slayer's character is his immaturity. Not that he's whiny and bratty like a kid but rather his trauma stunted him in a few ways. He likely had nothing to do with his village being attacked by goblins but to this day he blames himself for what happened to his sister, from him hiding and doing nothing to save her to in this volume believing she would have long moved on from their village if she didn't have to take care of him. Taking on all that blame and guilt, it's such a childish way of thinking and his trauma (and Burgler's training) meant he never was able to grow out of it. I can just see that little boy under the floorboards, thinking everything that's happening around him is some divine punishment from the gods for something bad he did, like not listening to his sister or getting mad at Cow Girl or literally anything else a kid would normally do.

This world has freaking elevators?! What?! When they first mentioned it I thought it was going to be something involving water or magic or gears, but no! Control panels, keypad, entering a code. It even goes bong when it arrives at its destination. I mean, they say it's not clear whether it operates magically or mechanically but this still feels like a big jump in this world's technology level, considering the most high tech thing I remember prior was ice cream making, and that was a chemical process. I just love the image of Goblin Slayer's party patiently waiting in the elevator as it's going up and soft muzak is playing.

By the time he noticed the change, it was too late. The goblin shaman’s blood had been turned to pure water.

WHOA! Priestess! What the f**k?! Was this her version of strangling the goblin champion with a bundle of hair?! That was awesome!

Also not good for her, given her beliefs. It's a good little conflict for her character and sets up some worry about what'll happen if she does something like this again. The Earth Mother spoke directly to her to warn this was a one-time deal. Would Priestess lose the ability to use Miracles or would the goddess outright smite her for such gross abuse of the powers she gave her? There's also the added conflict that Goblin Slayer praised her for what she did. He's not as important as the Earth Mother but he's still someone Priestess respects and is attached to more than anyone else, so she's going to be conflicted if his life is on the line again.

I've never played DOOM. Still love the reference with Hero.

...Is that why there was an elevator? Is this world some odd combination of DnD, Lord of the Rings, and DOOM?

Even though they showed his image, with everyone else all dressed up for the wedding I'm enjoying imagining Goblin Slayer in his normal armor, just with the addition of a bow tie.

Damn that bouquet tease. Who caught it?! Priestess?! Cow Girl?! Sword Maiden leaping in through the window?!

Original Reddit post: https://www.reddit.com/r/GoblinSlayer/comments/fzwykz/read_through_light_novel_vol_7_random_thoughts/

#goblin slayer #random thoughts #reddit repost

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some-dr-writings · 4 years

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Gundham’s and Kazuichi’s mangaka S/O wants to draw them

Gundham Tanaka:

· Though you were the Super High School Level Mangaka you specialized in historical fantasy! You absolutely adored doing research and finding new mythical beasts and species to sketch and incorporate into your work. It was no surprise that Gundham became your muse the moment you two met!

· Gundham would allow you to visit his creatures and draw them to use as bases for cryptids and monsters of all sorts in your manga. The four Dark Devas often acted as your pose models given how unusually animated they were for hamsters.

· Having asked the Overlord of Ice to allow you near his animals so often you spent much time together and eventually started dating.

· “My Queen, the Stringer of Fates, what curse dares to plague your soul?! You’ve not touched the pages with which you create and destroy worlds, as if it were deadly to do so! You’ve yet to search out a demon to immortalize. Not even have you greeted the four Dark Devas of Destruction as you always have.” You huffed lazily watching the rabbit Gundham was currently grooming. “Artists’ block. I can’t seem to draw or write anything. Either I just stare at a blank page for hours, or I start something which quickly dissolves into an incoherent mess!” Rubbing your temples, you grumbled at the clogged feeling fogging your mind. “I did pull a few all-nighters last week. Maybe I’m just drained. But if things keep going like this, I’ll miss my deadline! I already asked for an extension on it last week, I can’t keep doing this!”

· Gundham watched as you picked up the sketch pad and pencil. There was this stiffness in your movements. Your hand which once flowed about gracefully like a bird in flight now paved plain straight lines. Your eyes darted about unable to focus on anything. “UGH! I can’t even draw a proper circle for the rabbit’s body!” Sinking into your seat you tossed your sketch pad and pencil aside. “Perhaps a day of respite is in order.” “No, I already took a day off yesterday. I feel I’m even worse now than I was two day ago.”

· The Devas quickly scurried over to you, hopping into your lap, or climbing onto your shoulder to nuzzle your cheek. “… thanks.” Gently petting the two in your lap you sighed in defeat.

· It was at that Gundham abruptly stood up. “Where is my Queen, and what have you done with her, villain?!” “… Huh?” “MY Queen would never rot away so quickly into a decrepit state such as this! She’d fight and claw till her final breath! She’d never faulter so easily!” “I Am, your Queen.” “Hmph! No, you are not. Now, tell me where she is.” You marched right up to Gundham glaring at him. “I’m right here! I am your Queen, the Stringer of Fates!”

· It started as a chuckle which boomed into uproarious laughter! “There you are. That determination, your will to live has returned to your eyes. I am glad to have you back.” Surprisingly, you did feel like you had more energy than before. “So, shall we be off? A piece of you is still missing and we must search it out less you start to fade away once more.” “… Yeah, a date sounds nice right now.”

· As a bright blush dusted his cheeks, the Overlord of Ice took your hand into his bandaged one, the other taking your bag of sketch supplies, he led you out of the school grounds into the great beyond!

· The day was filled with fun and laughter as you raced from place to place, doing anything you could think of. A walk in the park, a trip to the arcade, lunch at a café, shopping at a bookstore, and anything else you could have dreamed of.

· As the sun began to set, Gundham and you found yourselves at the clear beach, dancing around barefoot, not a care in the world. “… Gundham. Thank you, today was amazing.” His entire face instantaneously flushed hearing his true name being called. In that moment he just looked so beautiful to you. His sheepish smile, those tender eyes, just, everything about him.

· “May I draw you?” “… Of course, my Queen.”

· And thus you drew, having completely forgotten that morning or the past few days, you were struggling.

· “Ah! Your depiction captured my true form! I should have known you could see through my mortal guise!” He so happily admired your drawing with sparkling eyes.

· While he was distracted you worked on another piece, one of a dark king holding his queen close on the soft shores of the beach.

Kazuichi Soda:

· You never held much interest in machinery till you came to Hope’s Peak and met Kazuichi. It seemed just about every time you saw him, he was tinkering with something, from a small robot toy to a monster truck engine. Often times the parts of whatever he was working on were spread out, and then seeing how they all fit together fascinated you. Without realizing it you’d end up just watching him work for hours and sketching out the pieces and tools he was using.

· Quickly this fascination bled into your own work, incorporating steampunk-esque elements into it. And the more elements you added, the more references you needed. At first you tried getting some on your own, but you’d just end up injuring your hands and fingers in some way or you’d break the pieces.

· “Look, you got me into this mess and now you have to take responsibility.” “W-what!?” Before Kazuichi could panic you placed an old, rusted pocket watch before him. “How do I disassemble this!?” For a week or two after you’d bring some new item to Kazuichi to disassemble and reassemble. You eagerly sketched out the pieces you needed the references of and more.

· Quickly you and Kazuichi became friends. You would chatter away as you did your own things. Before you knew it the two of you ended up spending time together just to be together, no drawing and no tinkering.

· Kazuichi would go to you for advice for his unrequited crush on Princess Sonia to which you’d try your best to help, even if it did hurt a little given your crush on the mechanic. She wasn’t the only thing he spoke of though, so you had plenty of other conversations.

· Kazuichi certainly liked chatting so when one day he was quiet you got a bit worried… Then you remembered something. “Oh Soda. You’ve never been on a school trip before, right?” “Hmm, uh, yeah. I skipped out on the only one I got a chance to go on.” “Because of financial issues, right.” “Yeah.” “Well, I happen to be going on a trip all over Europe for background references and I was thinking who better to take along than my best friend and best mechanic I know!” The news certainly perked him right up, and he excitedly chattered on about traveling! Quickly the news spread, and it ended up becoming a class trip! Honestly, though a trip alone with Soda sounded lovely, you more enjoyed seeing how ecstatic he was to be going on an actual class trip with everyone.

· The trip was fantastic, it seemed to be nonstop fun. Often you’d forget that you were being payed to go on this trip for work and that you needed to get reference materials, thankfully Mikan took more than enough reference photos for you.

· Though during the trip, you noticed how Kazuichi, though still friendly, was a bit more reserved than usual. When you asked him what was wrong, he said he appreciated the concern, but it was something he had to work out on his own.

· Eventually your trip took you all to France the city of love. The place was certainly an artist’s dream, you found yourself drawing nonstop there. It was amazing!

· At one point in your trip your class wanted to get to a restaurant at the top of a rather large hill, but the only way to get there was via a thin road by car. So, you, Kazuichi, Sonia and your driver were the last to get to the restaurant.

· Then the car broke down. Kazuichi immediately went to check the engine while Sonia stood at the edge of the road, looking out at the sunset. It was a gorgeous sight, her profile, the sunset, the city lights, everything. You had started sketching out the scenery when a though struck you.

· You elbowed Kazuich, gaining his attention. You then leaned in real close while still looking at Sonia, not noticing the blush spreading on his cheeks as he kept looking to you. “Hey Soda, now’s your chance. This view is absolutely romantic, and you’re in the city of love. Don’t you think this is the perfect time to ask out the girl you like?” This hurt, it really did, but seeing how happy he was to be going on a school trip without worry like he always wanted, you could hardly imagine his joy if Sonia got together with him at a time like this. It hurt, but you just wanted to see him happy.

· “… Ask out the girl I like, huh…… Okay.”

· Turning to you he placed his hands atop your shoulders. “Y/N I have a crush on you. Please go out on a date with me.” “… Wait? I thought… what about Nevermind?” “I, well, yeah, I do like her, but… I really like you… I… That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out lately and... so I... You get it, don’t you!?” “… Soda, please let me draw you!” “Huh?” “Well, if we start going out, we’ll be boyfriend and girlfriend, right? I’d like to have something to commemorate the moment by.” “S/O!” He pulled you into a tight hug, giddy out of his mind.

· You ended up drawing him at the restaurant. He loved the drawing so much he took a picture to use as his phone’s lock screen. From then on you often drew him for references for poses and though all great, his favorite would forever be the first one you made of him. It was made to celebrate you getting together, it was always so special to him.

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hailing-stars · 3 years

Text

@febuwhump day three: imprisonment

definitely not a lizard

Summary

“I don’t understand why I have to be here, Mr. Stark,” said Peter, as Tony pulled the car into the school parking lot.

“Because this is entirely your fault.”

“I think entirely is a little unfair.” Peter took a glance back at Nessie, who snuggled with her pink stuffed bunny. She had gotten so big that she covered the entire front seat of the car. “I’m not the one who suggested Morgan bring her pet dinosaur for show and tell.”

“But you are the reason she has a pet dinosaur.”

“Don’t think enough blame is pinned on OsCorp for that one, actually.”

Peter ransacks an OsCorp lab for fun and finds Morgan a friend in the process.

The origin story of the monster that lives in lake behind the Stark house.

Bits of broken glass crunched under Peter’s feet, and under his mask, he smiled, looking around at the OsCorp lab he’d just ransacked. Jameson was right. He was a menace, and it felt great.

Good, healthy destruction was soup for the soul, and nothing felt more soul-mending then laying waste to the place responsible for so much animal cruelty. After taking a few seconds to admire his handiwork, he turned to leave, but his eyes caught a cage with a small lizard locked inside.

“Don’t worry, buddy,” said Peter, striding across the lab, stepping on even more broken glass. “I’ll get you out there. Put you somewhere you can be free.”

He picked up the small cage, and Karen alerted him Tony had sent him a couple of text messages reminding him about Morgan’s birthday party, telling him to be late. That they wouldn’t be waiting for him to cut the cake.

It was a sinking realization. The remembering her birthday, and consequently, remembering he hadn’t remembered to buy her a present. Between Spider-Manning and school and friends and academic Decathlon, his life was filled with great distractions.

The lizard jumped around in the cage, and Peter got a brilliant idea. He only hoped Mr. Stark saw the genius of it.

Peter wasn’t late to the party, but him and the lizard were the last to arrive.

He parked his car behind Bucky’s motorcycle. He swung his door open, and unbuckled the passenger’s side seatbelt, freeing the cage from the strap keeping it safe from the bumpy ride out to the lake house.

He just hoped Ms. Lizard wasn’t too shaken up. He hoped she was ready to meet her new family.

As it turned out, her new family wasn’t quite ready to meet her. Tony’s head snapped in Peter’s direction as if he was the one with the extra sense for danger. His eyes narrowed in on the lizard cage tucked under Peter’s arm, and he marched through party guests scattered about the yard and towards him.

“What the hell is that?”

“It’s a lizard,” said Peter. He held out the cage, balancing it on the palms of his hands. “Isn’t she cool?”

“Please tell me,” said Mr. Stark, “that thing isn’t supposed to be Morgan’s present?”

Peter gasped, and moved the lizard away from him. “Mr. Stark, she isn’t a thing.”

“She’s not a present, either.”

“You and Pepper were just saying Morgan needs to learn about responsibility,” said Peter. “So really a pet is a perfect present.”

“No we weren’t,” said Tony. “We were saying you needed to learn about responsibility after you forgot to put gas in your car and we had to come save you on the side of the highway.”

“Well maybe if I had a pet lizard as a kid I’d remember to put gas in my car.”

“Oh, so it’s May’s fault?”

“No,” said Peter. “That’s not what I meant!”

Tony released a long, annoyed breath, and rubbed his temple. “Are you serious right now? With the lizard? Really couldn’t have thought of a less annoying birthday present?”

“It was sort of an impulse thing,” said Peter, and he explained to Tony about OsCorp. He explained the destruction of the animal testing lab, because he knew he would approve of that sort of inconvenience being bought upon Norman Osborn. “So you see, I couldn’t just leave her there in animal prison. She deserves a home.”

“Pete, not this home,” said Tony. “Find someone else to care for your friend, and get her out of sight before Morgan -”

An ear shattering scream filled the air. Party guests, made up of mostly old and new Avengers paused and cleared the path for Morgan Stark, who charged at them in her brand new ballet slippers.

“IS SHE MINE?”

“Uh, well -” said Peter, shuffling his feet around, feeling awful.

“I LOVE HER,” said Morgan. She put her knees in the dirt, and peered into the cage. The lizard stared back at her. “I’ve always wanted a lizard.”

“You have never once said you want a lizard,” said Tony.

“Well I didn’t know I wanted one until I had one,” she told him, with a tone that suggested it was very obvious.

Tony closed his eyes. “Fine. You may keep the stupid reptile, but you’ve both responsible for keeping it fed and the cage clean, got it?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Tony walked away, and Peter popped the lid to the cage open, so Morgan could get a closer look at her new pet.

Two weeks passed, and Nessie no longer fit in the glass cage Peter had lifted from OsCorp. That was okay, according to Morgan, because Nessie liked sleeping at the end of her bed way more than cold, smooth glass, anyway.

According to Tony, it was a nightmare. He was terrified of the strange noises Nessie hissed at him every morning when he tried to wake Morgan up for school.

Peter sat at the kitchen table, minding his own business and eating cereal in a sleepy fog, when Tony stormed into the kitchen waving his bloody finger around.

“That’s it,” said Tony. He twisted the facet, and ran steamy water over the bite marks. “I’m calling Bruce. That thing definitely isn’t a lizard.”

“Maybe Nessie hates you because you keep calling her a thing,” said Peter, with a mouth full of cereal.

Tony grumbled and poured peroxide over his hand.

Later, Bruce showed up with a homemade DNA testing kit and a whole lot of questions.

“...you really thought it was a good idea to let Peter and Morgan keep an unknown species from OsCorp?”

“It was kind of an impulse thing,” gritted Tony, glaring at Peter, who patted Nessie’s head, distracting her from Bruce poking her scaly skin and drawing her blood.

Bruce worked fast, and it felt like hardly any time at all had passed before he was scratching his head, staring at the results in disbelief.

“I think… I think Nessie’s a dinosaur.”

“Oh great,” said Tony. “OsCorp is genetically engineering dinosaurs. Just what we need.”

“Has Norman never watched Jurassic Park?” asked Peter, with a frown. “He really should… it’s a great film.”

“Of course he’s seen Jurassic Park. He’s just too stupid not to take it’s warning and not put dangerous beasts on our planet.”

“I don’t think Nessie’s dangerous,” said Bruce. “She’s definitely from the prehistoric age, genetically, but she lacks any predatory instinct. Looks like OsCorp has successfully domesticated dinosaurs.”

“Leave it to Osborn to create completely boring dinosaurs,” said Tony. He held up his now bandaged finger. “If she’s not dangerous, why did she bite me?”

“Have you considered she just doesn’t like you?”

Tony growled, Nessie hissed more of her baby dinosaur roars, and Peter pet her, calming her down and marveling at how awesome it was to have a dinosaur running around the lake house.

“Dr. Banner,” said Peter. “If they can make dinosaurs, do you think they could engineer, like, a Pikachu?”

“A what?”

“You know, Pokemon?”

Bruce continued looking confused, and Tony continued looking like he was in great, neverending pain.

“I don’t understand why I have to be here, Mr. Stark,” said Peter, as Tony pulled the car into the school parking lot.

“Because this is entirely your fault.”

“But you are the reason she has a pet dinosaur.”

“Don’t think enough blame is pinned on OsCorp for that one, actually.”

Tony parked the car, and grabbed Nessie’s leash from the dashboard. He managed to click it around her collar without losing an arm, or getting his hand bitten. They were working on their relationship, and in Peter’s opinion it was going pretty well, as long as Tony remembered to feed her hamburgers every once in a while.

It was a slow walk to the school’s entrance. Nessie was a faster swimmer than walker, and Peter often wondered if she wouldn’t be happier living in the lake.

“Okay,” said Tony. “You’re gonna have to carry her. I can’t take walking at this snail pace.”

“Why do I gotta carry her?”

Tony looked at Peter like he was dense. “Because I would break my back, super-genius.”

“Fine, fine,” said Peter, scooping Nessie up in his arms. She licked his face in appreciation.

They got looks from everyone who spotted them in the hallway, as they marched towards Morgan’s classroom. Once they got there, it was impossible for Morgan’s classmates to focus on anything else besides the dinosaur, so they got to start show-and-tell right away.

Peter stood next to Tony and Morgan up at the front of the class, dozens of tiny eyes staring at him. He handed the end of Nessie’s leash to Morgan, and she plopped down in front of her feet.

“This is my pet dinosaur -” started Morgan, only for Tony to cut her off with a series of loud coughs and a correction.

“Reptile,” he said. “Dinosaur’s just a family joke. They definitely don’t exist anymore.”

“Uh, Mr. Stark,” said Mrs. Presley. “What kind of reptile is Nessie, exactly?”

“A big one,” he answered, then urged Morgan to continue.

“Nessie likes bubble baths,” she said.

Peter could tell from the look on Tony’s face that he was having flashbacks from the time he’d walked into the bathroom and saw him and Morgan with a giant bubble gun, and Nessie in the tub filled with even more bubbles, snapping her jaws at the flying ones.

“And cheeseburgers,” she continued. “My big brother Peter rescued her from that mean green guy -”

“-the pet store owner!” Peter injected. “He was, umm, wearing a green polo, and kept her in a tiny cage.”

“Yeah, they were so mean to Nessie,” said Morgan. “Always poking her with needles and keeping her locked up, but then Peter got her for me for my birthday, and now we have lots of fun, even if it stresses my dad out sometimes.”

Morgan finished her speech, and Mrs. Presley whispered to Tony, asking him if it were safe for the children to pet the creature she was still convinced was something more than a reptile. He nodded. The children lined up, and after they each had a turn, Tony and Peter left with Nessie, once again, locked in Peter’s arms.

“I think it went well,” said Peter, once they were in the car. In the backseat, Nessie took a bite out of her pink bunny. “Maybe we should stop for burgers on the way home.”

Eventually, Nessie moved out of the house.

It happened over time, as she grew larger and larger, and became way too big to sleep on the end of Morgan’s bed. She grew so massive, Morgan understood it’d be cruel to keep her locked up in the house, especially when they had a perfectly good lake in the backyard.

So the lake became Nessie’s home, but it wasn’t like she didn’t come back to visit. She showed up, emerging from the lake to scare the hell out of Happy, on the occasions of family barbecue, enticed by the smells coming off the grill.

She showed up for Morgan on summer days, when her and Peter swam in the lake despite Tony’s concerns about flesh eating bacteria.

“You worry too much, Mr. Stark,” Peter would tell him.

And Tony would tell him that was impossible. It was a parent’s job to worry, and it would never quite be enough.

When the house got quiet, when Morgan aged out of the part of her life when her family was her entire world, and when Peter became busy with college and Spider-Man nonsense, Tony worried more.

Some nights he found himself wandering outside, firing up the grill, and throwing a few burgers for himself, and for Nessie, who could always be counted on to rise up out of the lake for a good burger.

As the sun set, casting an orangish glow over the lake, he threw a burger out to Nessie and she ate with a snap of her jaw.

“You know,” Tony told her. “You’re not half bad, Ness.”

She walked towards him, and before Tony could react, licked him. Her giant, reptile tongue left dinosaur slavia and small bits of hamburger on his face and clothes.

“Really,” he said. “Just when we were starting to get along.”

Nessie put her head to the sky, and roared at the disappearing sun. Tony could only hope the neighbors wouldn’t hear her.

#febuwhumpdaythree #irondad #irondad fic #Peter Parker is a little shit #and Morgan has a pet dinosaur #what's not to love

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laurelnose · 3 years

Text

new year update

- I am, in fact, still alive, I guess. almost surprising, tbh! doing a little better—still not great, but better. it’s cool, I don’t expect miracles from myself.

- thank you everyone for all the well-wishes. i can’t respond to everything individually but i do appreciate all of them and all of you 💛

- i’ve been thinking about if/how I want to start re-engaging with fandom. definitely I want to change some things about the way I do fandom in 2021, as debilitating mood disorder aside, I’m pretty dissatisfied with the current state of affairs. just for one, my audience is larger than i ever expected it to get and i need to re-evaluate some stuff.

- @eskelchopchop tagged me in that 5-favorite-things-you-created-in-2020 thing, & I thought yeah, it’s probably a good idea to take some time to meditate a bit on the things I managed to create this year. made me realize I did make a fair amount of stuff I forgot about and that was nice to remember! so, thanks for the tag, i appreciate it. cutting for length!

rules: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 (ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

so…we’re going to do this two different ways. here’s the self-promotion the challenge was asking for: my top five favorite fanworks I posted this year, no particular order.

On Monsters as Invasive Species: this meta essay was a response to a tumblr ask, but it was so goddamn long and at the time I did not want to post anything to tumblr, so I tidied it up for AO3, which also let me do real footnotes!! anyways it’s about monsters, invasive species, and extinction events, and i’m very pleased with how it came out. my thoughts on the topic were super knotty and I wasn’t even sure what conclusion I would end up coming to when I started trying to formulate my response to this question, so ironing all my drafts out into something coherent took some effort, but it was worth it. (& yeah i’ll still probably post the actual ask response here at some point.)

Medieval clothing studies, ft. Yennefer: just really pleased with the hatching on these! I’m trying to get more adventurous with my use of black in my inking, usually to mixed success, and I love how these ended up turning out. plus, the whole process of doing the studies was a lot of fun. also pretty proud of the matching Lambert set but that doesn’t exist on the internet lmao

The library catalogue at Kaer Morhen: extremely niche & self-indulgent oc content with some of the cuter baby geralts I’ve ever done? yes. i am still unsure if this qualifies as a “joke,” but it’s hilarious to me. plus, the number of people not in witcher fandom who said they reblogged it solely for the accurate depiction of libraries was very flattering.

baby eskeralt tackles: this was one of seventeen art prompts I did over the course of three days, which I feel was a pretty heroic drawing effort!! bit of a toss-up between this one and the eskeralt kiss for which one is my favorite, but this one turned out exactly like I wanted it to and I really love the movement and expression I achieved with it. (it just so happens the kiss is reversed in my notebooks: on paper, eskel’s on the right, and I was halfway through when I decided I wanted their scars visible and opted to flip the art in post rather than redo my entire sketch, so the baby witcher piece has a bit of an edge for actually looking the way it does in real life.)

rotfiend reproduction: this isn’t exactly meta so much as just a goofy headcanon post, but it’s a thing I created and fuck, I just love this headcanon a lot, okay, it’s so bonkers off-the-wall and yet also reasonably canon-based, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to top “rotfiend sex requires explosions.” legitimately my monster bio peaked early with this one

and for the second way: thinking about everything I created this year, I realized that while the challenge specifically asks for links, many of my favorites never made it onto the internet. so I’m just going to mention those briefly because they were my actual top five!

Sigurður Hjartarson (+ cover art)

the character design bible I did for Gill

City of Animal Electricity

The Obsidian Star

Open Hand or Closed Fist

if you made it all the way down here, thanks for reading. i have no idea which of my mutuals have or haven’t done this at this point so i’m just going to tag @she-who-drank-vodka-with-cats and @kerasines/@witcherrarepair and if anyone else would like to do it, feel free to say I tagged you, and may the new year be good to you 💛

#laurelnose.txt

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rowaning · 3 years

Conversation

The Complete Fiction of HP Lovecraft rated by me, someone who read them all* but has a terrible memory

The Beast in The Cave: uh a guy goes on a cave tour and finds a creature that was like a human that got lost and adapted to its surroundings. 0/10 just because im pretty sure there was another one with this exact premise and neither of them were memorable at all.

The Alchemist: dude achieves immortality and lives in the narrators basement and has pledged to murder his entire lineage or something. 4/10 the alchemy stuff was actually kind of interesting

The Tomb: im pretty sure this is the one where a guy starts hanging out in a tomb and like travels back in time/becomes one of his ancestors? 5/10 if its the one im thinking of i did enjoy reading it

Dagon: guy lands on a mysterious island with signs of a long dead civilization. 1/10 i do not remember what happened in it

A Reminiscence of Dr. Samuel Johnson: 0/10 i have no memory of this

Polaris: also 0/10 i forgot all about it

Beyond the Wall of Sleep: could be any of the dream focused ones. if its the one about the dude sailing into the void or whatever than 4/10 not too bad

Memory: ironically, i dont remember it. 0/10

Old Bugs: 1/10 for the title god i wish i remembered this one

The Transition of Juan Romero: i got nothing. 0/10

The White Ship: this might also be the one about the dude sailing into the void? i liked that one he lived in a lighthouse and boarded a dream ship and just fucking left it was fun. 4/10

The Street: uh i think really steep street that didnt actually exist. 3/10

The Doom that Came to Sarnath: i wanna say another one of the dream centered ones where a town discovers some old relics and blatantly disrespects them and gets exactly whats coming to it. 5/10 they deserved what they got

The Statement of Randolph Carter: ok this dude shows up several times. i think this one is about how he returns to his childhood home then travels back in time and creates a time loop paradox thing. 1/10 meh

The Terrible Old Man: uh some thieves harrass a weird old guy and get got. 5/10

The Cats of Ulthar: someone is mean to a cat in a dream city, all of the rest of the cats get revenge and are revered for the rest of time. 2/10 (-3 because lovecraft has a specific name he gives to apparently every fictional and real cat he encounters and wow i wish he hadn't)

The Tree: i feel like this is something to do with a person becoming a tree but i cant actually remember. 0/10

Celephais: yeah no i got nothing 0/10

The Picture in the House: also nothing 0/10

The Temple: nope 0/10

Facts Concerning the Late Arthur Jermyn and his Family: is this the one where the dude's great grandfather married an ape? i dont think so but im not sure. 0/10, -5/10 if it is that one cause that one was especially shitty

From Beyond: nope 0/10

Nyarlathotep: charismatic dude shows up and is like get in bitches we're going to the void. i love nyarlathotep cause hes the one who directly interacts with humanity and like wears a human suit or whatever so hes just some dude whos like hey im gonna feed you to azathoth 5/0

The Quest of Iranon: got nothing 0/10

The Music of Erich Zann: narrator makes friends with an old musician whos being hunted by supernatural forces. 2/10 because i remember it but it was just ok

Ex Oblivione: 1/10 for the title but i have no clue what it was about

Sweet Ermengarde: lovecraft's sole attempt at comedy. not to my taste like at all 0/10

The Nameless city: nope 0/10

The Outsider: also nope 0/10

The Moon-Bog: sounds cool, dont remember it. 0/10

The Other Gods: dude tries to find the gods of humanity where they live on a big mountain, actually finds them, is immediately smited by the Other Gods who protect the gods of humanity. 3/10 he deserved it

Azathoth: dont recall, 0/10

Herbert West- Reanimator: Arkham man Herbert West and his assistant ressurect the dead with little thought to the consequences, then get murdered by a band of said resurrected dead. 5/10

Hypnos: nope 0/10

What the Moon Brings: also nope 0/10

The Hound: still nope 0/10

The Lurking Fear: again, nope 0/10

The Rats in the Walls: dude returns to his ancestral home, hears rats, excavates the basement and finds out that his ancestors ate human flesh, eats his friend. 1/10 it was an interesting read but can lovecraft please stop calling cats that.

The Unnameable: no clue 0/10

The Festival: nope 0/10

*Under the Pyramids: ok im pretty sure this is the one with houdini which is the only one i could not read. i went into this mentally prepared for lovecraft's bigotry but i was not mentally prepared for him dropping harry houdini, avid skeptic who absolutely would have beat the shit out of him for this, into the middle of his super racist paranormal horror. -1000/10

The Shunned House: nope 0/10

The Horror at Red Hook: also nope 0/10

He: cool title, no memory of the story. 0/10

In the Vault: wow im bad at this. 0/10

Cool Air: still no 0/10

The Call of Cthulhu: kind of all over the place, there was a thing about artists and then a thing about a cop investigating a cult. 3/10 meh but ill give it a bonus for being a staple of horror fiction.

Pickman's Model: uh artist sees some wild shit and draws it and then it eats him. 2/10 i forget the details

The Strange High House in the Mist: if this is the one im thinking of, dude does a dangerous climb to find a mysterious house and meet the inhabitant who is kind of interdimensional and also being hunted by interdimensional things. also maybe the house eats people? 2/10

The Silver Key: another Randolph Carter one, and i think this is actually the one about him travelling back in time so idk what the other one was. 3/10

The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath: randolph carter goes on a quest in the dream world to find the gods of humanity and ask why they wont let him check out this cool city he can see from his window. lots of action and very wordy and went a lot of different places. 4/10 good read but extremely xenophobic

The Case of Charles Dexter Ward: guy investigates his ancestor who looks disturbingly like him, ancestor comes back to life and kills him and takes his place and a bunch of other stuff happens. mostly a dramatized genealogical study. 3/10 not bad, very suspenseful

The Colour Out Of Space: meteor lands on a farm, scientists get weirded out by it, everything in the area gets weird then dead, alien thing gets enough power from draining nearby life-forms to escape earth. fun twist ending. 4/10 bonus for being one of the better ones, detraction for writing out a 'rural accent'

The Descendant: nope, 0/10

The Very Old Folk: nope again, 0/10

History of the Necronomicon: very dry. fake history of lovecraft's fake book thats super important to a lot of the stories. 0/10

The Dunwich Horror: isolated witchy family has a kid who no one likes that grows up real fast. graphic descriptions of renovation. a horror gets unleashed on the area and the local folklore scholars have to deal with it. 1/10 nothing good enough to counter the xenophobia

Ibid: i remember this one. no idea what it's deal was. pseudo-bibliography? it was weird. 0/10

The Whisperer in Darkness: guy has a correspondance with another guy about local folk legends based on evil crab things. other guy gets straight up replaced by an evil crab thing and first guy doesnt even notice. imagine if you followed up on a scam email and didnt realize anything was up until you saw that the face of the dude you were talking to in person was a mask. 4/10 for the comedy this guy would not last in the internet age at all

At The Mountains of Madness: guy whines about penguins and how awful it would be if there were civilizations that predated humanity. also commits grave desecration. i get hit by the realization that if lovecraft was less of a racist coward he wouldve made a great speculative sci fi author. 3/10 i would love to watch that old asshole get absolutely torn to shreds by the monster fucker community

The Shadow over Innsmouth: Fish People! Leave Them Alone! Or Else! 5/10 the protagonist gets to live the dream by escaping human society and becoming an immortal fish person

The Dreams in the Witch House: dude rents an objectively haunted room, doesnt listen to people trying to help him, gets murdered by a weird rat. later they find a shit ton of bones in the attic. 2/10 meh

Through The Gates of the Silver Key: Randolph Carter transcends time and space, then de-transcends time and space and immediately gets stuck on another planet in the distant past, makes a long and difficult journey back to earth to find that his estate is being divided amongst his heirs. the comedy potential of a man stuck in an alien body dealing with a legal system that has declared him dead is not examined. 2/10

The Thing on the Doorstep: narrator's good friend marries a fish person witch who steals his body. thats basically it. 3/10. at this point im like wow these narrators really refuse to believe the heavily foreshadowed supernatural explanations that turn out to be correct huh.

The Evil Clergyman: dude is in a room. some ghosts (?) show up. dude has a UV light for some reason. Gets his face stolen i guess and just has to live with it. 5/10 for being absolutely buck wild and refusing to explain anything

The Book: nope 0/10

The Shadow Out Of Time: dude gets his body stolen by ancient scholar species. agonizes about it for a while. finds archaeological evidence of said species. finds a book he wrote while living with said species. almost gets eaten by something. 3/10 more cool speculative sci fi but lame protagonist

The Haunter of the Dark: you'd think id remember it bc this was the last one and i read it last night. oh wait, nvm i do remember it. dude finds an old box in a run down culty church and unleashes a horror that then comes and fucks him up. 1/10 meh.

#tw lovecraft #i have forgotten more than i can remember #which is on par for me

16 notes · View notes

gingerwritess · 5 years

Note

“I already have no pants on-“ “NO!” 😂😂😂

you asked for it @lokislilcaribbeanprincess @iamverity @skydiving-without-a-parachute

domestic dad loki topped with a dollop of fluffy breeding kink yeah that’s a thing

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Two kids.

You’ve changed all the diapers, fed them both, cleaned up after them, done your time.

Frigg is barely four and Loki already wants another.

“But a baby,” he pleads, striding along next to you, “both our children are growing older. I can’t carry Elliot anymore, Frigg…it’s just not the same, I want a baby.”

“You know that baby will just grow up again, right?”

“Yes.” Loki grins as you come to a halt in the laundry room, setting the hamper down with a huff.

“And what happens once that baby’s four?” You start sorting through the dirty clothes, pulling the remains of a chocolate bar out of a jeans pocket. “Oh, god, Elliot…chocolate melts…”

“Then we have another, of course.” Loki grabs another pair of jeans and starts checking the pockets as well. “Then that one grows up, and we have another, then that one grows, and we have another—”

“My uterus hurts just thinking about that.”

“But more babies, darling,” he sighs, tossing the pair of little jeans in the washer. “More little you and I’s, crawling around and—”

“And terrorising us,” you cut in, “wrecking this entire house and keeping us awake, keeping us from each other for months on end, then they grow up and we have to feed them and send them to school and raise them and we’ll never have a full night’s rest for the rest of our lives.”

You wait for Loki to sigh, realise how absurd his proposal is, but he just gives you a dreamy smile and throws another dirty sock in the washer.

“The more you speak,” he murmurs, leaning towards you, “the more I just want to impregnate you.”

Aha.

“Okay…so this is just your breeding kink talking?”

“I’ve told you, I don’t have a breeding kink,” he hums, kissing the tip of your nose and plucking the shirt out of your hands. “I just want to have an endless number of children with you, fill your belly with my seed time and time again, and raise children of our creation for years on end.”

“Right.” You jab an elbow into his side, dumping the rest of the clothes in the washer and hoisting the hamper back onto your hip. “Totally not a breeding kink.”

The next morning, Loki wakes you the way he does best.

You’re not complaining, you never could, but when he tries to convince you that “breakfast” is a perfectly viable excuse to be late to work, you shove him off the bed and all but hurl a pair of pants at him.

“Don’t get me pregnant,” you warn him as he laughs, pointing a finger in his face. “Don’t you dare, you have to keep saying that spell thing, okay? We are not in agreement about this ‘more babies’ issue, Loki, do not get me—”

“Shh…” he surges toward you, molding his lips to yours and chasing you back onto the pillows. “Don’t worry, you know I would never do that to you.”

Of course you know that.

“Just making sure,” you giggle, and you try to no avail to squirm out from under him.

“Doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun…” lips latching onto your neck, he growls playfully and rolls you on top of him, keeping you tight against him as you laugh and push him away.

With a tongue that, ah, skilled, you might’ve given in by the time he was done, but your bedroom door crashes open and your two lovely kids barge in, leaving you and Loki scrambling for the sheets.

“I didn’t do nothin’,” Frigg is yelling over and over, holding onto Elliot arm as he drags her behind him. “I didn’t do nothin’!!”

“Frigg froze the milk,” Elliot seethes, a little blue in the face. “I’m gonna be late for school if she doesn’t quit it—”

You kick Loki under the blanket. Your turn.

“Uhh…”

“Great parenting,” you groan, sitting up and keeping the sheet tight under your chin. “Frigg, unfreeze the milk, don’t do that to Elliot. Elliot, don’t drag your sister like that—”

“She won’t let go of me!” He shakes his arm to prove his point, and sure enough, Frigg refuses to let go and just giggles. “See? This is all her, I didn’t do this.”

“Elliot, she’s four,” Loki sighs, rubbing his eyes. “Just give her another cookie and tell her to read a book.”

“She can’t read yet, that doesn’t—”

“Shhhhh.” Loki yawns and flops back on his pillow, a cool hand stroking down your bare back. “It’ll work, trust me.”

A look of disbelief crosses his face, but Frigg yells “BOOK” and he trudges out of your room, slamming your door and dragging his little leech of a sister along behind him.

You roll on top of Loki before he can get another word out, pinning his arms by his head. “This is why we can’t have another kid. If you’d rather have another baby than spend our mornings like this, then fine, but really think about it.”

He closes his eyes, a stupid little smile on his stupid beautiful face, and runs his hands up and down your thighs. “I do like this,” he decides, “but…I still think we can manage both.”

With that, he flips you over and you let out a surprised yelp as he peppers your face with kisses.

“Your go-to method—mmph—” you try to push him away, but he just dives back for your lips with even more ferocity. “—can’t be t—Loki! God, calm down!”

“Sorry,” he laughs, chest heaving as he hovers over you. “What were you saying, my love?”

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, half-heartedly glaring up at him. “Your go-to method of parenting can’t be to just give them a cookie and shut them up.”

“And…why not?” He flicks his tongue over your pouting lips, much to your unamusement. “It seems to give us enough time to do this.”

“This,” you reach around him and smack his ass before shoving him off of you, “is not happening. We both have work.”

“But br—”

“DON’T SAY BREAKFAST.”

He follows you to the bathroom, trailing behind you like the little attention-starved puppy he is.

“I’m not saying that our lives would significantly improve if you were pregnant again,” he says, leaning against the counter and watching you start brushing your teeth, “but, consider if you were.”

“I’d ‘e puking err’where.”

“Not necessarily.”

“I’d ‘e ‘UGE.”

“No, you’d be pleasantly plump,” Loki chuckles, pinching your side and getting a fist to the groin in return. “Oof…hold on, you didn’t let me finish!”

Looking threatening with a mouthful of toothpaste is difficult, but you think you did alright.

“I’ve made it quite clear just how…appealing pregnancy looks on you, my love.”

“You kinky little shit.” You spit out your toothpaste and glare at him. “I’m not getting pregnant just ‘cause you’ve got a kink.”

“It’s not that!” He trails after you, following as you stalk to the closet and rifle around for some clothes. “I happen to enjoy raising children with you.”

“Oh, do you? I’m so glad! Put a shirt on.”

“Look,” Loki sighs, catching the shirt you threw at him and slipping it on. “Our children are my entire life. You know this. They’ve consumed me and I love it.”

“I know you love them.” You wrestle on your pants, hopping around until they’re pulled up to your waist properly. “And I love you, Loki, and I’d love to just pop out babies for us, but let’s be reasonable. We can’t…we can’t do that.”

“Did you know that I think of our children as living proof of your love?” Loki’s gaze drops to his fidgeting hands.

You pause, glancing at your husband. He’s gone silent, waiting for your response and probably wishing he hadn’t “admitted” to having emotions.

“You’re an idiot,” you sigh, shaking your head and walking over to him, laying your palms on each side of his face. “You really still need proof, Loki?”

His half-smile is sheepish, almost guilty. “I…well, sometimes I get scared.”

You thought there might be more to this.

“Talk to me, Loki.”

“I don’t—” he groans and rubs his eyes. “It’s complicated?”

“Hey.” Tugging him towards you, you softly press your lips to his, thumbs brushing his cheekbones. “We’re masters of complicated, remember?”

“Mmm.”

“Please talk to me.”

“Impossible when you kiss me like that,” he mumbles, eyes closed and forehead resting on yours.

“You’re trying to distract me and it’s never worked, snowflake.”

“Fine.” He breaks away and takes your hands in his, eyes downcast. “I’m a very…ah, insecure person.”

“Right.”

“And the fact that you were willing to have two children with me,” he presses your entwined hands to his chest, “not just one, but two…I just can’t fathom that it’s my true reality.”

You wrap your arms around his waist and pull him into a tight hug. “Keep going?”

“I don’t understand how you could claim to love me as much as you do,” he continues quietly, resting his head on yours as his arms wind around you. “I gave you two children that turn blue. Two monsters, really.”

“No,” you cut in, lightly slapping his back. “You were raised to hate yourself, Loki, to hate the species that was a true part of you. Don’t bring that into our family.”

“Sorry,” he whispers. “That’s not what I’m saying. I don’t think of them that way, but from a midgardian perspective, it’s…the truth.” He shakes his head at your confused face, drawing you closer into him. “Look, the point I’m trying to make is just that you shouldn’t love us, but you do, and the fact that you wanted to have a child with me felt, um, good.”

“Validating?”

“Very.” He presses his lips to your temple, closing his eyes tightly. “And the fact that you love our little blue babies just as much as I do feels even better.”

“So you want more kids? To capitalise on that validation of my love for you?”

“Yes…” he hugs you closer, burying his face in your neck to muffle his voice. “And I might have a little bit of a kink.”

You can’t help but laugh, running a hand through his hair as you hold him. “Okay, the kink I understand. But have I given you a reason to doubt my love for you?”

“No, no, that’s not what I mean!”

“Please tell me if I have,” you murmur. “I’m so sorry.”

“You haven’t,” he promises, cradling your face in his hands. “I’m just an insecure, paranoid, kinky little shit.”

You try for a cracked smile. “Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.” He kisses you, fingers smoothing over your jaw. “There’s no part of this that puts you at fault, my love. I house the problems for this family.”

“I love you,” you swear, kissing him again. “I really, really do. That’s why I’ve got two incredible, perfect blue kids with you, okay? Because I love you, Loki.”

He opens his mouth to respond, only to be cut off by a loud crash from the kitchen.

“Damn. This was a nice little moment, wasn’t it?”

“Quick,” you whisper, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and yanking him towards you. “Kiss me with your tongue, hurry, before they find us.”

“O-okay.”

He obliges much too happily, curving your body into his with hands splayed over your back and neck as yours tangle in his hair.

Knock knock knock.

“MOMMY, ELLI ATE ALL THE CEREAL—”

Loki moves to break the kiss so you can answer, but you shake your head and suck his tongue back into your mouth.

“Mommy?”

Just a moment longer…

“Mommy, are you ‘n daddy kissin’ again?”

Loki pulls away, a grin back on his swollen lips. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Oh, okay.”

You bite down on Loki’s shoulder to keep from laughing, holding onto him tight.

“…but the cereal’s gone.”

“There’s a new box on the middle shelf,” you call through the door, trying not to laugh when Loki starts nipping at the curve of your neck again. “Have Elliot get it down for you, okay, sweetie?”

“‘Kay, thanks, mommy.”

“My pleasure, Frigg.” Your hands slip back into Loki’s hair, tugging gently and preparing to get back to making out as soon as she leaves…

“Have fun kissin’ daddy.”

“Oh, I will,” you laugh, gazing into Loki’s eyes and brushing his hair out of his face as he quirks an eyebrow.

“…can I haffa kiss? M’kinda lonely ‘n Elli’s gonna leave…”

“Frigg,” Loki calls out to her, spinning you around to press your back against the wall and clapping a hand over your mouth. “Give us two more minutes and we’ll give you a million kisses.”

“Even at work?”

“Of course,” you laugh, pushing his hand away. “We’ll be right out, go have your cereal!”

Loki pauses for half a second to listen for the little footsteps leaving the room before pouncing on you again, dragging a trail of hot kisses down the column of your throat as your head falls back with a sigh.

“We’ve gotta stop,” you groan, raking your fingers through his hair. “Elliot has to get to school, Frigg needs a kiss—”

“MOM??”

“I still want another kid.” Loki’s lips leave your chest with a pop and he grins. “I’ll take the interruptions, only makes it that much better when we actually find time to ravish each other.”

“MOM, THERE’S NO MORE CEREAL—”

“If they say the word cereal one more time, I’m going to scream.”

“You know, this wouldn’t have happened if we had another kid.” Loki sets your pouting, deprived self back upright with a sigh, reaching down and buttoning your pants for you.

The pout continues—you haven’t gotten to kiss him like that in a while.

“I think it would only get worse if we had more…”

“Anyways,” Loki cuts you off, a finger to your lips, “the bed is right over there, I conveniently already have no pants on—”

“No.”

“I was thinking we should go for twins, actually,” he continues, that shit-eating grin plastered on his perfect face. “Make it an even four children, then if we don’t get twins this time, we keep at it until we get a pair—”

“Absolutely not.”

He heaves a dramatic sigh and wrestles your shirt over your head, holding it for you to slip your arms in. “I’ll respect your wishes, I suppose…”

“Look at me, Loki,” you laugh, lifting your arms when he starts tucking your shirt into the band of your pants.

He glances up when he finishes, grabbing a fistful of your shirt and pulling you in for a quick smooch. “Yes?”

“First of all, you just reversed-stripped me, which is very out of character for your horny self, but very sweet. Second…” you hold out a pair of pants to him with the sweetest grin you can manage. “Pants.”

“No.”

You throw the pants in his face. “Okay, this!! Is why we can’t have more kids!”

“Why, because I prefer to be ready for baby-making at any given time??”

“No!” You jab a finger into his chest, snagging a quick kiss that’s the perfect mix of annoyed and enamoured. “Because YOU are my third child, and you are exhausting and more work than Elliot and Frigg combined and you’re making me late to work again—”

He opens his mouth to defend himself and you shut it by sealing it with your own.

“Don’t. say. breakfast.”

“But—”

“No.”

“Hmph.” He crosses his arms with a huff, just sitting there and letting you squish your lips up against his.

A sorry excuse for a kiss, but neither of you are complaining.

Another yell for mom brings you crashing back into reality and you push yourself away, sighing happily and patting Loki’s pouting cheek. “Pants,” you remind him, pointing. “See you on the battlefield. In pants. Please.”

“Hypothetical question, darling,” Loki calls after you, holding up a finger when you reach the closet door. “If I don’t put on pants, will I get a spanking?”

“LOKI, I SWEAR TO GOD—”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

hope you enjoyed, please reblog and feel free to send me ideas!

loki tags: @bluediamond007 @himitoshi @drakesfiance @destiel1597 @dangertoozmanykids101 @archy3001 @jcalpha1 @yzssie @skullvieplu @forthesnakeofdragons @skulliebythesea @wegingerangelica @storiesfrommirkwood @agarwaeneth @adaliamalfoy @laurfangirl424 @paradisaicsam @fitzsimmons-is-forever @ladylokimischief @katelinwrites @tarynkauai @polaristrange @loavesofmeat @canadian-ravenpuff-multishipper @lou-makes-me-strong @holyn0vak @chocolatealmondmillk @swtnrholland @kenzieam @jessiejunebug @catticas @the-republic-and-face-of-texas @doralupin01 @whitewitchdown @atomiccharmer @falconfeather23435 @babygirlicecream @avengrcs @vethrvolnir2 @bookgirlunicorn @wabisabigrl @myhealingstar @khaleesi-marvel @ei77777 @spacecrumbs @scarlettghost13 @rocks-are-pretty-odd @confessionsofastrugglingteen @easilydistractedwriter @arttasticgreatnessoftheawesome77 @fluffyllamaswearinghats @milktearose @lcyouinhell @h0tshotholland @dontmesswithmemundane @southsidesarcasticwriter @helnik-s @lilith-akemi @fire-in-her-veinz @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt @mischievousbellerina @kcd15 @mellowgirl01 @lokislilcaribbeanprincess @allthingzhiddleston @scorpionchild81 @lokixme @blue-automne @galaxycharmed @devilbat @kangaroobunny @end-up-well @planetariumx @sarcsep @mrfandomtastic @amaru163 @im-way-too-many-fandoms @caswinchester2000 @kybaeza @wester-than-west @vintagesunshinebitch @adefectivedetective @poetic-nikolai @moonduhsted @kerri-masson @iamverity @innaminitus @spnbarnes

#loki x reader #loki reader insert #loki imagine #loki fluff #loki breeding kink #domestic!loki #dad!loki #loki lime #loki requests #loki fanfiction #loki drabbles #loki laufeyson #elliot lokason #frigg lokadóttir

2K notes · View notes

mrneighbourlove · 4 years

Text

Trip going Termina

Skull Kid was bored. Hyrule was boring. Everyone rebuilding Hyrule was boring. He was bored.

Looking around the rubble of a town, he was acquiring trinkets and valuables he could keep for his collection. "Hmmm? What's this?" Pulling a hand out of the rubble, he frowned. This was once a woman. Even with decay setting in, he could tell by the shape. On her finger was a nice ring though. Taking it, he studied its green texture. Reminded him of Rinku. Or Zizi. His green friends. He didn't know where Rinku was at the moment, but he knew where Zizi was. Taking the ring, he skipped and hopped, and teleported back to Hyrule. Was time to leave Hyrule for a bit.

Zizi had been given one of the largest tasks to handle for the kingdom. Her job was now to create a growing plantation of crops for the people. She and many other Zemlja were helping farmers start fresh with a new plot of land. Yet, the plantation would not only feed the people but later help provide money by sending exports to other countries. For once, Zizi was happy to have a job that did not deal with fighting. The war with Vul'kar was a horrid experience and one she would care not to recall.

Skull Kid hopped onto her shoulders from above, messing up her hair. "Piggy Back time!"

"Hey!!!" Zizi lost her balance and over the two of them toppled. "... where were you earlier when I needed help sorting the seeds?"

"I found a ring on a body. They didn't need it. You want to ditch work?"

"Now, now, Skull Kid, looting the dead is very much frowned upon." Zizi chided him. "You should put it back." Then she sat on the earth, concentrating. "I'll make you a deal. Help me finish work and then we'll hang out."

"Deal! But we have to go where I want to."

"And where is that?"

"Surprise. Now, let's get to work!"

Once the work was complete, Zizi managed to clean her hands in the stream before Skull Kid splashed her. "... do I need an overnight bag for this? You know I can't stay away long. Zarazu will need me."

“Zarazu has others. She has the flaming party pooper and her ‘lovey wovey Covvy pie’.” Skull Kid gagged at that pet name he heard. “I’d pack a bag and grab rupees. That’s the currency for where we are going.”

"Rupees?" Zizi never had much money to spend. Though, she did have a little cash stored away for a day like this. Perhaps it was time to use it for a much-deserved day off. "... all right. Let me inform my sister and we'll be off."

“Do you have to? You’re not a baby she has to look after.” Skull Kid shifted towards her, his limbs rattling like maracas.

"I don't want to just disappear." Zizi reminded him. "Remember how I spent a couple of days with you in the woods exploring when I first came to Hyrule? Zarazu sent out a search party."

“Zarazu’s a worry wuss. But fine. Tell her we’ll be gone for a few days at most.”

"Zarazu has a right to worry. Look at what all we've been through." Zizi tipped Skull Kid's hat down in a playful manner. "I'll meet you at your tree. Let me pack my things and tell my sister."

Skull Kid suppose he couldn’t move things along faster even if he wanted to. Leaning on his tree, he took out the ring he found and examined it some more. Finally, with all the strength he could muster, he threw it far. It landed in front of a village girl and he gave no more mind to it.

Once everything was done, Zizi met Skull Kid at his tree. She had packed a couple of pairs of clothes, what little money she had, and some snacks for the road. Maybe soon, her plantation would be bringing in money for the kingdom and she would have a steady paycheck. "So, where are we going?"

Skull Kid pointed to the small oak log that had an open crawl space. “Go down there after me!” Skull Kid was quick to led by example, disappearing into the log.

"Hey! Wait for me!" Zizi approached the log and had to wiggle through it. "Skully, I'm a little bigger than you, do you think you could find a bigger log next time?"

“Don’t grow up, how’s that?” On the other side, Zizi found herself right in the heart of the Lost Woods suddenly.

"... wait, what?" Zizi looked back through the log and then around her. Skull Kid was using his magic again for teleportation maybe. Either that, or the log had magical properties that could suddenly spit one out in another dimension. "How did... you know what? I don't want to know. I'm good with not knowing." She stood and took in the beautiful view of the greenery with a sigh. "This is so lovely. Look at all the trees and the plants... oh, and the flowers are gorgeous! They glow!" What the Zemlja did not realize was she had plucked a fairy from a bush, thinking it was a flower. "What species is this?"

The fairy glew incredibly bright, enough to hide its shape as it bit Zizi hard on the finger with the force of a wasp’s stinger.

Surprised, Zizi yelped as the fairy bit her and instantly dropped the creature, yanking her hand away. The fairy bit hard enough to draw blood and the Zemlja hissed at the stinging. Putting her finger in her mouth to staunch the bleeding, she then looked at an amused Skull Kid. "What was that?! I didn't do anything!"

Skull Kid watched as the fairy flew away into the deep foliage of a tree. “That was a Forest fairy you pluck by wings Zizi~ There are different kinds of fairies all around the world. Too bad you didn’t pluck a healing fairy. Hehehe.”

"You could have warned me." Zizi shook her hand to try to make the stinging disappear. "And I didn't mean to hurt it if I did."

“I wanted you to learn yourself. Stay close. The Lost Woods are a magnificent but dangerous place to explore. Many marvellous sights and magical gateways to around the world, but treacherous monsters and curses as well.”

At the relay of potentially dangerous magic and ill-tempered creatures, Zizi almost wanted to shake Skull Kid, yet, she feared his head might pop off. "And pray tell, what made you choose this path if it's not the safest route?"

“It’s the most fun Zizi.” Skull Kid walked around various fallen logs, laughing as he kept ahead of Zizi. “If you get lost in the woods, you’ll become a Stalfos.”

"I most certainly will not!" Zizi huffed at his taunting. "I will simply let the earth swallow me and escort me back to my sisters. If you call this fun, I would hate to see what you call relaxing."

“Well, do you know where to go?”

"The earth is connected, Skully." Zizi walked across a long, making sure to balance, holding her arms out. "That's why I walk barefoot all the time. I can feel it talking to me. I can use the roots in that tree to tell you a family of rabbits burrow underneath it. The leaves in the canopy tell me little birds are chirping in a nest. It talks, you know."

“Yeah?” Skull Kid knocked on an old oak. “You know which way is north?”

"Easy." Zizi then stopped and pointed, oddly enough, in the correct direction. "That way."

“Tricky woods. Tricky trees.”

"Not really." Zizi admitted to Skully. "They're talking to me. It's like... one giant voice almost. Telling me I'm..." She paused for a moment to repeat the words. "The voice says that I am lucky that I'm special or else, it would gladly turn me in all directions." She shrugged. "Whatever that means."

“Hmmm interesting.” Immediately, his attention was drawn to a giant pit inside a tree. “Jump down.”

Zizi glanced at the deep pit and arched an eyebrow at Skully. "Another pathway? ... fine." Zizi carefully manipulated a vine to ease herself into the bottom of the pit. "Come on, then."

“Not like that. Like this!” Skull Kid jumped feet first into the pit, grabbing Zizi with him. As they fell into the deep darkness, he let out a gleeful cheer.

Zizi, having no idea what was going on, shrieked at first, but then as the tunnel proved to be like a slide, found herself laughing.

They slid and slided, and as Skull Kid turned them certain directions. Finally, a blinding light hit them and they tumbled right out a waterfall! “WOOOOO!!!”

Zizi barely had time to react. She did not want to get her clothes wet in her backpack. It would take a long while to dry. That, and she had no idea what was in the water. Not that she thought it was dirty, but if there was anything that could take a bigger bite out of her than that fairy, the Zemlja had a right to be cautious. A few vines caught her before she hit the water, and Zizi watched Skully give a 'boo' in her general direction.

“Hehehe. Like the swamp?”

"I don't mind the swamp, I just don't want to get wet." Zizi pointed to her backpack and then her hair. "Not that I mind swimming, but we don't want to delay our trip by my clothes having to dry, do we? Or my hair for that matter, it takes forever." She looked around the swamp, taking in the trees and the water. There were several lilipads with frogs croaking and fishes swimming along the bottom, looking for food. "You still haven't told me where we are going."

“We’re here!” Skull Kid gestured to the swamp.

"...? This swamp is our final destination?" Zizi peered around. "Well, if you were taking me to a landmark, why did you tell me to bring rupees?"

Skull Kid looked to an abandoned tower, and started making his way to the top, all the while silently urging Zizi to join him.

Following Skully, Zizi could have sworn she heard... whisperings. Was it the swamp? Was she imagining things? She could usually hear the forest speaking to her through plants, but this was not numerous voices, it was one. Snapped out of her thoughts by Skully tugging on her hand, the Zemlja wondered what his object was this time.

In the far distance was the light of a town. “Look over there Zizi. That’s Clock Town. We’re in Termina!”

"Termina?" Zizi asked him. "Like where you and Link met all those years ago? I'm surprised it's still here!" She was eager to take in the sights. "I thought it only existed in stories."

“Oh. It’s very, very real. The city has risen, fallen, and come back more vibrant then ever!” Just as the excitement filled Zizi, Skull Kid turned her head to a green gas coming out of the mountains to her left. “But we aren’t here for that.”

"Then what are we here for?" Zizi had a slight pout. "Aren't you going to take me to see the city?" When he turned her attention to the gas, she then inquired, "... if you brought me all the way out here to show me how you make a stink bomb..."

“No! ...Though...” Skull Kid shook his head. “Come on! We got a swamp to traverse. Mind the bugs Zizi~”

Zizi could deal with bugs. Spiders, on the other hand, she had no love for, due to the incident with Ganondorf battling that giant one from the temple. When she saw a rather large arachnid, the Zemlja squealed and almost jumped on top of Skully. "I don't do spiders!"

“How about Dragonflies?” From above came a massive man-sized Dragonfly. With an electric tail, it stabbed the arachnid, eating it alive as it buried its legs and fangs into it.

"... let's just get away from the bugs and I think I'll feel a little better." Zizi said with a pale face at the size of the insect.

“Hmmm. You ever go Snapper riding before?”

"What's a Snapper?"

Snap-ap. Down near the shore line was a large looking snapping turtle, digging into some fish it had caught. “That is.”

"As long as I'm not on the menu, that looks fun!"

“Ok. Sneak up on it, jump on its shell, and hold on.”

"How about you go first and show me how it's done?"

“Awww. That’d spoil the surprise.” Skull Kid had an evil, mischievous hint in his voice he couldn’t hide. “Life’s about taking risks.”

"Oh? It is? All about risks and fun?" Zizi played dumb, thinking for a moment. "Nah, you first." And with that, she gave him a shove.

Skull Kid jumped with a backwards cartwheel onto the Snapper. It let out a yelp, pulled its head and limbs back into its shell, then started spinning like a top towards Zizi with a spiky shell. Skull Kid laughed as he had perfect balance going forward and able to keep the contents of his stomach inside. “Hehehehehe! Weeeee, this is fun!”

"Whoa!" Zizi climbed higher in the tree and watched the Snapper spin around like one of those rides at a traveling circus. It made her dizzy just to watch the spinning. It was then she noticed the Snapper was headed directly for a rock. "Skully! Look out!!!"

Skull Kid jumped off one Snapper and onto another to continue the thrill. The first poor turtle broke the rock and wouldn’t come out of its shell. “Come on! Try it!”

"I have a feeling I'm going to regret this later." Zizi carefully jumped onto a Snapper and held on for dear life.

SNAP-AP! The Snapper spun around at alarming speeds, dragging her down the swamps river bed. It was rather furious it and its companions were being used for sport.

Feeling that the creature was growing agitated, Zizi apologized to the turtle before jumping onto a tree, climbing up into the branches.

It seemed that in the excitement, Zizi and Skull Kid had becoming heavily separated.

"This isn't good." Zizi looked around for her friend but he was nowhere to be seen. She decided the best thing to do was to head back in the direction of the abandoned tower. It was a key point he had shown her and would likely come back to the place. As she was walking, Zizi came across the oddest-looking creature she had ever seen. It was... a plant? An animal? "Um... excuse me!" She waved at the being called a Deku, trying her best to be polite. "I'm so sorry to bother you, but I'm a bit lost. Could you help me?"

“Ah!!!” The Young Deku panicked, running over to a flower and hiding under ground. He sounded like a kid.

"Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you!" Zizi fretted, feeling horribly guilty about frightening the poor thing. She had to figure out a way to appear non-threatening. Using her magic, she had a flower bloom from her palm. The Zemlja offered it to the Deku. "Here. You can have it if you like it."

The Deku peeked out from its flower peddle, very close to shooting a seed at Zizi until it saw the flower. Suddenly, he looked amazed. “You’re the one! You’re the one!”

"I'm the what?" Zizi looked puzzle, but dismissed the thought. "I apologize for scaring you. Are you all right?"

The Deku plopped out of the flower, his leafy mane jiggling about. “Oh! Can you come see the King with me?”

"The King?" Zizi recalled Skully telling her stories about the King of the Dekus trying to kill a certain monkey. She certainly hoped this Deku was not mistaking her for an unruly primate. Yet, she did not want to seem rude. This place was full of plants. She could fight if necessary. Maybe the King could point her in the direction of her mischievous friend or at least a place to find food. She was starting to get hungry. "Very well. You'll have to show me the way. This is my first time here."

“Follow me pretty lady!”

The Deku waddled through the jungle with Zizi until they reached a large wooden palace. It was a magnificent palace from top to bottom. Cleaning some windows were little Koroks flying on leaves. Approaching some Deku guards, they pointed spears at the two approaching. “Halt. Only the green may enter.”

“She’s green! Show them your special power!”

Skully's stories were elaborate but nothing could compare to the actual sight of the wooden palace. It was like nothing she had ever seen before. The water around it was as clear as the sky and the greenery was so healthy and vibrant. This was a paradise locked away from the world of humans. As the guards held up their spears, Zizi was a little surprised when the tiny Deku referred to her as 'green'. Maybe it meant earth magic? Bending down so the Deku guards could observe, Zizi once again, sprouted a lovely lily from her palm.

The Deku once again freaked out over this revelation. "It's her! It's her!"

"I told you it was her."

"Fool! Let her in to see the King at once!!!" The Deku guards retreated into their flower bed, giving room for Zizi to enter.

Zizi really had no clue what was going on at this point. She was wondering if these Deku were mistaking her for another guest that was supposed to arrive. Either way, as the small Deku led her into the throne room, she noted the fire. That was odd, in her opinion, to have fire around species of sentient plants. It seemed hazardous. Gently, she tapped the tiny Deku's shoulder. "Would you mind telling me why your friends reacted so back there?" Zizi whispered. "I'm a little confused."

The Deku took her hand, leading her to a massive Deku sitting on a throne made of a beautiful blooming flower. "Halt! Why is there a fleshy amidst our Green Covenant?"

"... hi." Zizi waved at the large Deku and politely introduced herself. "I am Zizi Slatki, a Lorleidian. I was a little lost in the woods out there and your friend here was kind enough to help me."

"Why were you past the guards, Lore-Lu-Di-An?"

The young deku once again urged Zizi to show off her magic.

"Because they saw me grow a flower and let me?" Zizi presented the king with a different bloom this time, growing a long strand of ivy vines from her hand. Once finished, she offered the plant to the king. "I can do more than just flowers, you know, but they seemed very excited for some reason."

Every Deku working around the room stopped what they were doing. A loud ring was heard as a pan was dropped to the floor.

Zizi noticed the deafening silence and glanced around the throne room. She then whispered to the smaller Deku, "Did I do something to offend?"

"You!!!!" The Deku King pointed his scepter at Zizi. "You are the one!!!"

Zizi jolted slightly at the scepter suddenly thrusted in her face. "I'm the what?!"

"You are the Sage of the Forest reborn! Guards! Seize her!" A dramatic pause was taken for effect. "-A fantastic feast!"

Zizi stood there, stunned beyond belief. A sage? Her?! She was only a teenager, how could she be a wise old sage?! Yet, the Zemlja was almost ready to summon her man-eating plant at the notion of her to be seized. But breathed easy when the king mentioned a feast.

The Deku scrambled about, quickly picking Zizi up in a chair and carrying her about the palace plaza.

"WHOA!" Zizi held tightly to the sides of the chair, having no clue what was happening. "Will someone please tell me what's going on?!"

Skull Kid had looked up and down for Zizi. As high as the old temple, to the tourist shop near the river trail. Finally exploring the castle, he looked down through a window to see Zizi getting flower crowns put on her head and carried about. When she was set down for a second, he whispered angrily to her through the bars. “Hey! What’s the big idea having all the fun to yourself?”

Zizi jumped when she heard Skull Kid's voice, but was relieved. "Oh, thank the spirits! You're here!" Zizi exclaimed. "I tried being nice to this one little Deku I scared by giving him a flower and then the whole castle went crazy and put me in this chair!!!"

“Oh yeah? Where’s my chair?” Skull Kid huffed.

"Do one of your magic tricks and maybe they'll get you a chair?" Zizi scowled at him. "I didn't ask for this, they just keep telling me I'm 'the one' and I don't know what that means!"

“Huh. Well, maybe I’ll just watch then.” The Deku grabbed Zizi, plopping psychedelic herbs into her mouth and marking her with tribal paint. “The one! The one! The one!”

Zizi immediately coughed and spat out the herbs. The last thing she wanted was a trip to the plane of her mind like she was in a sweat hut. The tribal paint, she did not mind, but she finally had lost her patience. "Everyone! Everyone please!" Zizi's shouting at least obtained their attention. "I'm... very grateful for all the attention, but will one of your please explain why I am this 'one' you keep speaking of? What exactly am I? I'm just a visitor from Lorleidi."

“You are a sage of the Forest. Like Saria, Monomoka, Mufflebufflesnufflepuffle, Gfreeda, and Elron before you! You posses magic of the sages, able to create life at will!” The King pointed his sceptre to a caldron of water they brought out. “We shall see if we cannot free you of your fleshy prison first.”

"...?!?!?! WHAT?!" Zizi was now rather... angry. The little Deku she had been nice to brought her here for this?! This would not stand! Stomping her foot, the ground moved, knocking over the caldron of water. "I am just fine the way I am! You aren't going to try to scald me with that, because if you do, you'll regret the day that you busted out of whatever seed you came from!" She pointed her finger at the King. "I am a human and if you don't like that, than too bad! If I am this... this Forest person, this sage, that you claim I am, then why the hell are you trying to hurt me?!"

“Because no Sage can be a fleshy in MY kingdom! This is a kingdom of the green! Any who don’t agree can have their heads lopped off! This will done to help you achieve enlightenment! I mean, you are the sage, aren’t you?”

Skull Kid snickered. This was turning out more fun then he assumed.

"... I am enlightened to the fact that maybe I should lop your head off if you try to hurt me or any of your innocent subjects." Zizi was not usually one that was quick to anger, but right now, she was furious. "Earth Sage or not, I'm not going to let you hurt me or anyone else."

“UGH! Earth?! That’s disgusting! On second look, you are rather a gross little thing.” He poked her in the ribs with his sceptre. “Your skin is too close to charcoal, you stink with a musk of a mammal, and you have a birds nest for hair! Speaking of hair, it’s the wrong colour for a sage. Won’t do. Won’t do at all.”

Skull Kid looked around for something to help Zizi out and cause a scene. Looking around, he saw a patch of fruits being grown. That could do the trick.

"Zemlja is the spirit of the earth and has graciously bestowed upon me these abilities to do good in his name." Zizi then caught the Deku King with her vines and roughly jostled him onto his throne, making it to where he could not move. From the ground emerged Ve'nusa with a mighty, shrill screech that would make any ears rings. "I don't care if you think I'm ugly, from where I'm standing, I'm not the one with something to lose. Now, you're going to apologize, you're going to let your people enjoy the feast, and I'm going to leave."

The Deku guards tilted their heads at the king.

“Well you fools?”

The Deku nodded to each other, then fired a torrent of saliva bombs at Zizi and Ve’Nusa. The saliva that bombed Zizi was thick and sticky, every ball pressing her into the ground with a suppressive cold webbing of snot. For Ve’nusa, it was acidic, burning the vines off the King and harming the poor creature with intense chemicals.

Ve'nusa shrieked loudly from the acidic contents, but that did not stop the sentient plant. The platforms were forfeit when the large vines thrashed back and forth, knocking out the supports. Zizi, on the other hand, was furious. She swallowed herself into the ground, the mud absorbing the sticky mixture. She then used her power to pull the Deku's into the ground.

The remaining kept spitting at Zizi and her plant. Even the king stared to dance. “Yes! Take her down my loyal soldiers! Show this sack flesh the power of- SPLAT!!!”

A very large pumpkin fell on the Kings head, smashing it apart in a gooey green mess. Skull Kid didn’t expect the pumpkin to just crush his skull like that. There was supposed to be a plop, not a splat. “Whoops.”

Zizi heard the commotion suddenly stop and unearthed herself. Skull Kid... had gotten them into a very fine mess if the King was dead. She did not want anyone to get hurt, but the Zemlja had to remind herself that the Deku started this skirmish. Yet, she would gladly be the one to finish it. Covered in mud from head to toe, the newly arisen Earth Sage glared at the Deku.

"Give me one good reason I shouldn't turn you all into fertilizer." Zizi snapped at the crowd and then the to Deku who brought her here with a pointed finger. "I was trying to be nice to you and you all wanted me boiled to death! If I really am this sage you speak of, then you all should be ashamed of yourselves. Don't come crying to me if you ever find yourselves at the mercy of a wild fire!" She then looked at her companion. "Skully. We're leaving. Now."

“Oh come on Zizi! We just overthrew a monarchy. That’s pretty cool stuff.”

"I don't care if we conquered the world, I'm going." Zizi tromped out of the palace, furious.

“What? Zizi!” Skull Kid tore a piece of pumpkin and followed her as the Deku cowered before them. “What’s not to like?”

"That." Zizi gestured to the shaking Deku. "I don't like that. I don't want to be seen as a bad person. I'm going to leave before I do something I really regret."

“Come on! We beat a bad guy! Just like your sister did! Doesn’t that make you happy?”

"Was he really bad or just racist against 'fleshies'?" Zizi asked Skully, wiping some mud from her face. "And while I do aspire to be a good leader to others like my sister, I don't always agree with some of her ways."

“What’s the difference between some mad king and a monster like Vul’kar. Both baddies. Now you have a fun glory story to tell your sisters.” Skull Kid felt very confident and laid back about the situation.

"The difference is, if it's true what they're saying, then I don't want them to be afraid of the new Earth Sage." Zizi stopped at the edge of the wooden bridge and sighed heavily. "How do we get away from here?"

“We go when I want us to go. Come on, I set this whole thing up to make you a hero. Maybe at least a thank you before we go?”

"... you set this up?!" Zizi whirled around to face Skull Kid. "On purpose?!"

“Yeah. Did some sight seeing around the world to find some conflict you could solve. All my friends are big shot heroes, so I wanted to turn you into one.” Skull Kid innocently waved his hand at her. “Took me forever to find something that wouldn’t put you in any real danger. There was some big shot monsters, a Gerudo pirate crew, and even a huge rampaging Spider. So when I found a relatively mad king with a submissive society to liberate I knew that’d be perfect for you. Aren’t I great? How about we go to Clock City to get a celebratory drink?”

"I can't believe you!!!" Zizi nearly shouted. "I'm no hero! I don't want to be a hero!" She gestured back toward the palace. "The Deku are scared of me now! I never wanted that! I never wanted to fight some biased king who hates humans! I don't like to fight, Skully! I was terrified when I had to fight with my sisters against Vul'kar!"

“Well, didn’t that help with that fear?”

"NO!" Zizi yelled so loudly his ears rang. She had never been this mad at Skull Kid before. "You've never had to fight in a real battle before so don't assume that you know what might help me overcome any 'silly' fear you deem needs fixing!" Huffing under her breath, Zizi started to walk on the giant lily pads which lined up for her. "Go off on your own crusade."

“Never fought? Zizi. I have history to account for that.” He skipped along the lily pads with her. “Come on. You can’t be mad at me. Being mad is being like a frog who can’t hop. Why bother?”

"I am mad at you. You assumed something about me and made an ass of yourself." Zizi sank a lily pad on purpose, causing Skull Kid to narrowly miss the water. "Leave me alone."

“Zizi. I can’t leave you out here alone. You’ll get hurt.”

"A little too late for that, Skully. You hurt my feelings." Zizi was going to retrace her steps and go back home to Hyrule. "I don't want to talk to you right now. Go away."

Skull Kid pouted, jumping onto her lily pad so they’d both sink. “Well, now you’re stinky. Now what.”

Zizi said nothing and simply dunked Skull Kid in the water before having the giant lily pad rise underneath her feet to set her in a tree.

“Hey! That’s cheating!!!”

Zizi continued to maneuver through the branches, listening to the earth to tell her which way to go. All she had to do was find that log, go through it, take a bath in the river, and go home.

“Zizi! You’re a party pooper!” Skull Kid shouted as he ran through the swamp water. “I just wanted to give you fun adventure. I-!!!”

There was a plop in the water, and Skull Kid went missing.

Zizi was in no mood for games. A vine fished Skull Kid out of the swamp water and plopped him on the safety of a lily pad. She did not put him in the trees with her. Then she continued about her way.

When she got a good look at him, he was missing his head.

"... great." Zizi growled under her breath. What stupid game was he trying to play with her now. "Just great. You drag me into this sorry mess you created, and now, I got to play babysitter." The algae growing on the bottom of the swamp called to her. His head was rolling around in the current. With perfect timing, a vine snatched Skull Kid's head.

“Zizi!!! Look out!!!” From behind her, a giant masked titan just little taller than Ganondorf swung a machete the size of a small tree at her.

Zizi was barely able to react in time. She jumped out of the tree and into the water below.

The masked Jungle warrior was a step right behind her. With a sword and shield of equal size, the jungle warrior was screaming a war cry as it cut down a tree next to Zizi.

"What is that thing?!" Zizi used all the availible vines to wrap around the giant's legs to prevent it from coming closer. She caught the falling tree with some floating algae in the water. The vines on Skull Kid launched him into the trees and Zizi quickly put his head back between his shoulders. "Run!"

“Jungle... Warrior...” Skull Kid could barely run. With another slice, Odolwa cut Skull Kid in half by the waist. “God-“, was all Skull Kid could muster before he fell into the water again.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Zizi was nearly shrill. She was beginning to lose her temper. This time, she did not just try to trap the giant, she actually slapped it with a vine full of thorns. Over. And over. And over. "You stay down, you big bully! I may not like all that Skull Kid does, but he's my friend, and you're not," SMACK! "Going to," BAM, BAM! "Be mean to him!" WHACK!!!

It let out a cry to the jungle for a call of help. Awful arachnids ran out of the jungles under layers to snap at Zizi. Skull Kid’s head was bubbling the water.

"I SAID ENOUGH!!!" A powerful green blast emitted from Zizi, knocking away all the spiders, the giant off balance, and echoing throughout the swamp, causing birds to fly away and creatures to still in their steps. Thin, lime colored lines traced at the corners of her eyes and magic glowed in the palms of her hands.

A kind soft voice spoke to Zizi, comforting as a mother. “Zizi Slatki. You have potential for great kindness and using the Earth itself for hope and the protection of others... this is your trial. Save your friend young one.”

The Masked Warrior stood up, and opening its stomach up, a blast of flesh-eating moths flew out to swarm Zizi.

The young woman wasn’t going to humour this monster anymore. It was humanoid, made of flesh, and like the insects it controlled, would be squashed like one. With one fluid motion, Zizi's magical ability with the earth lopped the giant's head off and crushed the moths. The plates of earth made a gooey mess of the masked monster.

Odolwa body starting to burn apart, swinging wildly around Zizi. Skull Kid lifted a hand and shot a rock at Zizi’s chest to send her back. Had he not, she’d have been split down the middle.

Once again, Zizi was in the swamp water with a loud splash, knocking her out of her magic induced haze.

Skull Kid’s own magic slowly healed his torso back with his legs. He hated getting hurt. Was always a pain to put himself back together. “Zizi.... you ok?”

Coughing, Zizi crawled out of the swamp water with a dark scowl on her face. Flopping on her back on a giant lily pad, she was most displeased. And tired. That sudden blast of magic due to losing grip on her temper really drained her.

"I want... to go home." Zizi said in-between breaths. "This has been... a disaster."

“Yeah... me too. Sorry for dragging you out here.”

"I'm still mad at you." Zizi managed to shakily get to her feet, exhausted.

“I know. I got that effect on friends sometimes.... you want to get something to eat?”

"I just want a bath and some sleep. In my own bed." Zizi told Skully as she pulled a piece of algae from her hair.

Skull Kid looked around, kicking the water out of his foot. “Well, we can’t go back to Hyrule the way we came. I know another area that holds a location the lost woods. And...” He hoped she appreciate this. “I know a place for some food and a way to clean ourselves.”

"..." Zizi looked slightly skeptical. Skull Kid led her out here under false pretenses. She did not appreciate him tricking her. So, she gave him a fair warning. "If this is another trick... I'm ignoring you for a whole month."

“Well, I didn’t plan for a masked monster to cut me apart for you to play hero. So no more tricks.”

"Good." Zizi sighed heavily, "Lead the way so I can get this muck off of me."

It was a good trek out of the jungle swamp and into a forest trial. A few Wolfos were ready to attack some potentially easy prey until Skull Kid made himself feel like a void to be around, scaring the pack off. Opening up into a massive open area, he took Zizi and himself west down a bath until they reached a small water hole of clean water. Skull Kid jumped in, quickly cleaning himself off. “Where did that power of yours come from? Didn’t hear any stories about that from your family in the latest war.”

As Skull Kid sank into the water, Zizi almost was tempted to pray thanks to Zemlja for the warm water. She jumped in, clothes and all, and made sure to scrub her head. One by one, the clothes came off and she hung the fabric over a branch to dry. It was heaven, being in this spring. "It's hard to summon plants on a dead island." Zizi murmured as she sank to her bottom lip in the water. "I did what I could, moving earth and rocks to fight. Mostly, I was just terrified."

“Yeah, but what you did to that monster earlier was something else.”

"... do you think what the Deku said was true then?" Zizi knew Skull Kid had met sages before.

“Well, it is possible.” Skull Kid mused, a hand under his chin. “Known a number of them over the generations. Have you felt any sense of awakening?”

"What is a sense of awakening supposed to feel like?"

“Been told it’s a large burst of power. Or a holy connection made with the goddess. Only good willed people corresponding to a certain element with a plan in mind by the goddess are selected.”

Zizi thought back to the war against Vul'kar. She did not recall having a large burst of power then. It just naturally came to her, moving dirt and manipulating plants. The largest blast of power the Zemlja had in a while was just now, battling that awful giant. As far as a holy connection, Zizi could heard Zemlja himself. Maybe... that was it? "I'm not entirely sure, Skully. I don't suppose there's a way to make sure?"

“You try praying to any of Hyrule’s Goddess statues?”

"No, I don't pray to those goddesses." Zizi admitted to Skully. "I pray to Zemlja. He is the one who I hear whisper in my ear sometimes."

“Hmmm, well maybe the Goddess of Hyrule will pass on a message to Zemmy? Who knows how gods work?”

"I don't suppose there's a mark or a... I don't know, some kind of sign you're supposed to get?"

“Defiantly a sign. And a cool medallion!” Skull Kid jumped out of the water, tilting his head at Zizi. “Your body hasn’t changed in any way so no telling either.”

"I hope my body hasn't changed in any way, shape, or form, and quit staring." Zizi splashed some water at him. "I don't care about a cool medal or such."

“It’s not like I care about that sort of thing. It’s just a bunch of fat to me.”

"... you know calling a girl 'fat' is rude, right?"

“Just a bunch of balloons anyways. You done cleaning? I want some food before we leave.”

"I need to change and you're still looking."

Skull Kid shrugged and looked away.

As Zizi was ready to get out, the water shimmered, and she heard a voice from under the water.

“Zizi Slatki... do you accept the Earth as your source of power... if you do, go forward and claim your symbol.”

Just under the water in the sand, a circular object was glowing.

Zizi just about scuttled out of the water from fright, not expecting a glowing light from her bathing source. At first, she thought perhaps it was a glowing fish, but then there was the voice. Was she hearing things? What was the shining below the surface? Against her cautious judgement, Zizi reached into the water and plucked... a... circular rock?

The rock was round like a clock, with unique markings on it. It felt right to Zizi holding it. One last time, the motherly voice spoke to Zizi. “You are the first Zizi Slatki... a threat more dangerous than Vul’kar will arise to threaten the world... there will others that will join you in time... Earth Sage of Hyrule....”

"...!!!" Zizi actually looked... pale in the face. Skully was right. There was a medal, that strange voice, the sudden burst of power, all of his predictions were coming true. Was she really this sage?! The Zemlja almost seemed panicked.

"Hey. Do you like beef? I think there should be a small town still on the map here. Good forest gateway next to it." Turning, he finally noticed her panic. "Hey. You ok?"

"Skully..." Zizi held up the medallion to show him. "Please, please tell me you were joking about the shiny medals that sages get."

"Zizi. That's just a rock."

"Then why did I hear that voice from the water? Why was this thing shining?" Zizi shook her head and started denying it. "Nope. Nope, I'm not this Earth Sage. I can't be a sage. No, no, no, you can have this back." She put the medal at the base of the tree. "I'm not strong enough, not powerful enough, no, no, no..."

Skull Kid hopped down, not caring she wasn't changed. Placing two hands on her shoulders, he held firm. "Zizi, if you're being serious, and I think you are, there is nothing to be afraid about."

"What do you mean, there's nothing to be afraid about?!" Zizi sounded so unsure. "Look at what my elder sister has been through! She's a queen! She has many people who adore her and love her, and she's so strong, but look at what all happened to her!" The Zemlja sounded paranoid. "Targets on her back from that biased council, Vul'kar wanted her dead, and who knows what might happen next. What if someone tries to kill her because they want a Hylian woman on the throne? Power just creates more grief! I don't want power like that if all that will happen is more bad things!"

"Zizi. Being a sage isn't about power. It's about helping people and giving to the community. Some are public with their identities. Most aren't. Besides, the power you get is about being responsible with it. There's always going to be dangers." Skull Kid pointed in the direction of Clock City. "Link defeated Ganondorf, only for a month later to fight to stop me from... destroying the world..."

"...? You?" Zizi had not heard this story before. All she knew was Skully was an old time friend of Link's. She just assumed he had helped the hero in the past or in this lifetime with a burden.

"Yeah. See above the city? Long, long, long ago, I was a troubled soul, who came across a terrible power. That power was known as Majora's Mask." Skull Kid waddled away from Zizi, looking directly at the city now, as if in an unpleasant trance. "I wanted to destroy the world Zizi. By cursing the moon and having it go on a set path to crush the town and detonate the Earth. I hurt a lot of people Zizi. Some of it from control by the mask. Many because I wanted to hurt people. I thought it was fun."

"... why did you want to hurt people, Skully?" Zizi asked him very quietly. "Did they hurt you?"

"Yes. No. I thought it was fun. I didn't know better. I just felt angry all the time... sometimes I still don't know better I guess. I thought you'd have fun today. But all I did was hurt you." Skull Kid looked down, starting to shiver. Coming to Termina, looking at the center of his worst actions, and feeling terrible about himself. "You must think I'm not a good friend..."

Zizi felt horrible for Skully. What did he go through in the past to make him hate the world? There were plenty of reasons not to like people, but to want to destroy the earth by crashing the moon into it? That was... a huge stretch. The only reason she could think of warranting such an extreme measure was if he lost everything due to the actions of the world, but... was it really justifiable? She was not sure. But, Zizi did not want to be judge of his past atrocities.

Wrapping her arms around Skully's shoulders, she pulled him into a tight hug. "It's okay to be angry. It's not okay to want to take it out on innocents." Zizi stated softly. "We all get mad sometimes. You didn't mean for the giant to cause such trouble. But, I didn't like how you want me to be a hero too. That hurt my feelings." She admitted to him. "I don't have to be someone great like Rinku to hang out with you, do I? Are you content with me just being me?" Taking a breath, she stated. "I don't want to be this Earth Sage, really, but... if I could help people, I don't think it'd be so bad. I still want you to be my friend, and I want to be there for you. But, I'm only human, Skully." Zizi thought of the future. "I might get married one day, and have kids of my own. I'm going to get old. Sometimes, I might not have the energy to keep up with you anymore. You'll still be my friend when that day comes, right? Friends forgive each other. So, if you promise to stay my friend, I'll forget about this silly incident and we'll go have a little fun. True fun."

"Hmmmm ok." Skull Kid nodded, hugging Zizi back. "What kind of fun?"

"I could teach you how to play checkers if you like." Zizi offered, resting her chin on top of Skully's head. "Or we could play tag, but you'd totally lose. I'm faster than you. Hide and seek would be nice, but this area is way too big. I could always create a huge slide for you to ride into the water if you want to go swimming in a clean section of water. There's a lot we could do."

"Ok…. You going to put your clothes on first?"

#Crossover #ridersoftheapocalypse #Termina #Skull Kid #Zizi #Friendship building #Odolwa

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carbrakes-and-stakes · 4 years

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Walk on the Wild Side - Oscar and Alain

Timing: a few nights ago

Parties: @forfuchssake & @carbrakes-and-stakes

Summary: Having just arrived in town, Oscar decides to roam around at night looking for coworkers.

In a new town, Oscar always liked roaming around to get a lay of the land. With the full moon past, he figured it was a good time to get a lay of the local cemeteries. While he wasn’t a Slayer, he hated the down time in between full moons. Spending his evenings at home or at the local bar got old too quickly. He craved the rush of adrenaline that came with a good fight and somehow it had gotten him this far. It was why he had an amused grin on his face as he noticed another man walking around the cemetery with a broadsword. Subtle. He could respect that. It looked like he was about to take on a zombie. As much as he was itching to fight, he observed for a moment. He was ready to jump in at any moment, but the other hunter seemed to have the situation under control.

“Dude, gross. That’s someone’s grandmother,” wrinkling his nose, the hunter shook his head in clear disapproval as he watched the zombie push the lid of a tombstone off. His sword in hand, Alain raised his eyebrows, wondering if this time he would have to run after that guy or if the zombie would try to fight him instead. Either way, that zombie would meet his end, and he would spend a few more moments not thinking about Evelyn, or Audrey, or anything that had been rough on his mood lately. “And he’s running,” chasing someone with a sword was not ideal, but it would have been worse had he opted for a hanging scabbard. He had made that mistake once. Never again. The zombie might have been fast, he didn’t know this cemetery as well as the hunter did, and when it came to avoid slippery paths, Alain was an expert. Approaching the zombie who had fallen to the floor, he was quick to put his foot on his chest, once again shaking his head. “The good thing is, this is not going to hurt. At least that’s what my notes say,” with those not so reassuring words, the hunter cut off the zombie’s head, picked it up with the end of his sword, like he’d have caught an olive, and began pouring gasoline on the remains, setting it all on fire, right on the gravel. “That was fast,” he sniffed and sat nearby, cleaning his sword clean before the next undead creature showed up.

The slayer seemed to move with relative ease which was something that came with years of experience. Oscar had a look of bemusement on his face even as he ran with the broad sword. It wasn’t an easy feat, swords were heavy as shit and had to be handled carefully, but the fellow hunter seemed to know his hunting grounds well. He must have patrolled the area frequently and Oscar was enjoying the show. As soon as he beheaded one zombie, another was lying in wake, read to attack. He had his largest blade at the ready should he see his brother in arms needed a hand from a bored beast hunter. With how he moved, it seemed redundant, but he was on standby, spectating until the zombie’s head fell to the ground. With a slow clap, he made his presence known. He emerged from behind a memorial and greeted, “I was hoping you’d need a hand, but clearly you’ve got it handled here.”

“I wouldn’t have had anyone to clap if you had hurt your hand in the process,” he deadpanned. Alain couldn’t help but wonder if he was talking with another slayer or not. He had never seen that person in town, and judging by the accent, he could assume that he was talking to someone who didn’t speak English as their first language. “I don’t think we’ve met before,” he rubbed his hand against his shirt to wipe it cleaner before holding it out, “Alain Babineaux, I… well, take care of the dead things in town.” Having introduced himself, he waited for the other to do the same.

Deadpan snark. Oscar liked this slayer already. His lack of subtlety and inclination toward humor mirrored his own. “I try to be a good audience where I can,” he joked. Nothing was ever quite as thrilling as getting in on the fight, but he’d hate if an outsider took his kill from him. While he’d never been prim and proper, he did have decent enough manners to introduce himself once Alain brought it up. “I’m Oscar Fuchs. New to town, but I take care of the more furry varieties.” The familiar ring of his last name dawned on him. If he recalled correctly, they were wealthy hot-shots and respected slayers. “Babineaux. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard that name. Always good to meet a Slayer who’s worth his salt. You always this discreet when hunting?”

“I can see that,” his blade cleaned up, the hunter put it back into its sheath, and the rag back in his pocket. The name of the other man did not ring a bell, but if he was, as Alain expected, a foreigner, it was not surprising. Having lived in White Crest his whole life, he never really got to meet many hunters out there. Still, the man seemed to know who the Babineaux were. “Beast hunter, huh? I see,” he nodded in appreciation. “Well, if you heard the name, you must know that we’re worth our salt. “ Pursing his lips to the side, Alain wondered whether he should reply to that last comment. No, hunting with a sword was not discreet, but he never really had problems with that, and he knew best that to keep his long sword in catacombs or narrow places. But cemeteries? Swords were great here. “What is a beast hunter doing here, then? Admiring the superiority of slayers?” Chuckling, he walked past him to get to his bag. “Care for a drink?” Either coffee or bourbon, he could provide.

There was a certain comradery between hunters that Oscar had always enjoyed. He’d yet to make his way to the Silver Bullet, but he was sure he’d be right at home the moment he walked in the door. While wardens, slayers, and beast hunters all had their respective strengths, their goals were much the same. Make the world a safer place for humans. Noble goals didn’t mean he couldn’t at least have a little fun with the job. “Yeah, not quite as many good hunting nights a month, but we try to make ‘em count,” he joked and added, “If I had any doubt before, I definitely don’t now.” His own arsenal was hardly discreet either, but there was something very classic about a sword. Back in the day, he had a silver one he loved wielding, but he found knives and guns to be more practical to his type of hunting. “Ha,” he retorted with a laugh, “Superior might be a bit of a stretch. You ever seen a berserker? Those bad boys make zombies look like toddlers. I’m mostly just getting a lay of the land. Never did like waiting between full moons.” At the mention of a drink, he nodded and answered, “A drink sounds great.” Would pair perfectly with another smoke. “I’m quickly learning this town is full of rare species. What’s the craziest thing you’ve seen here?”

Alain wondered if it was the local werewolf population that had brought Oscar to move to White Crest, or something else, such as the series of eerie events that had been striking the town lately. Either way, another hunter would never be too much. “Mmh, don’t tell me you only hunt on the full moon,” probably not. Alain did not envy beast hunters. They had to know many more creatures than he did, and werewolves were no joke. Some vampires either, but at least, he did not have to clean up bodies. “Glad I could make doubt disappear,” he knew how unconventional it was to stick to swords when stakes were lighter, but you could kill more creatures by removing their heads, and he would rather be efficient than smooth. “Really? Guess I’ll call you for the next Elder I find then. We wouldn’t want you to get bored between two full moons,” chuckling, he approached his things, taking out a thermos and a metal bottle, along with two cups,” he poured bourbon in both cups, although he added coffee on top of his. “Mmh, let me think,” scratching at the back of his head, certainly the squid was high on the list, but he remembered a penanggal he’d had the misfortune to cross paths with a few years back. It was his first and he hoped it would be his last encounter with that thing. Creepy fucker. “You ever seen a penanggal?”

There were some hunters out there that stuck to hunting on the full moon, but Oscar could never be one of those hunters. His hands were always itching to get their hands on some sort of monster. The job wasn’t all noble intentions, he was allowed to have a little fun with it too. Either way, he was keeping people safe. With a hearty laugh, he answered, “Oh no, I’d probably go crazy if I just waited for full moons. Seems like this town has enough beasts to keep anyone busy.” Tomorrow he’d probably go deep in the woods again. He’d familiarized himself with enough terrain that he wasn’t too worried about getting to know his current locale. If the need arose, he’d kill whatever supernatural creature came his way. He hadn’t personally come across an elder, but that wouldn’t stop him from helping to get rid of it. “Please do call me if come across an Elder. Sounds like one hell of a fight. Plus, it’s good to get a little versatility in the hunting department.” He took a seat on a small stone bench when Alain handed him some bourbon. He took a good sip before lighting up his cigarette. With a content sigh, he mused, “If there’s one thing Americans got right, it's bourbon.” He listened closely as Alain talked about the craziest thing he’d seen in White Crest. His eyes widened and he looked somewhat in awe. “A penanggal? I’ve read about them before, but never seen one in person. Based on the drawing they’re creepy looking der fickers.” He took a huff of a his cigarette and asked, “How’d that one go?”

“Yeah, considering the amount of creatures we have roaming around, I think it’s safe to say that nearly no one chooses to hunt once a month,” older hunters or those with children to raise sometimes made that choice, but other than that… Alain wondered for how long Oscar had been in town, and whether he was aware or not of which places were to be avoided. “Well don’t hesitate if you need information on some areas. I know most of these places quite well,” and there were some even he avoided. The hunter’s enthusiasm at the idea of fighting an Elder brought a smile on the slayer’s face. Chuckling, he nodded, “I can confirm, those are really not fun to fight alone,” in fact, trying to go solo would result in death in most cases. “Yeah, I only get versatile when hunters need a hand with something. Otherwise, I leave beasts to you guys, and faes to wardens,” he had enough to deal with undead creatures alone. His mixture of coffee and bourbon managed to do its work, and he matched the other man’s sigh. “Ah, I knew you weren’t from around here. Germany, correct?” Not many places on this side of the ocean spoke German, and he could assume that the man was European. “Well… I can confirm that they look as creepy as they look disgusting,” and it took a lot to disgust most hunters. “I am more in favor of decapitation so that was not a great time for me. You never want to know what it’s like to hold something down by holding their trachea,” sniffing, he added, “I’ve heard hunters claim that they saw and fought many things over the years, Teke-Tekes, that thing “Taratata” or whatever, Fexts, you name it,” he rubbed his eyes. If he hadn’t met those last three creatures, he believed that some had. This town just was this bad.

“Haven’t gotten to see too many of them yet, but I look forward to it. I always welcome a new challenge. I’ve actually seen my first ever bies since getting here,” Oscar explained with a hint of mischief in his eyes. Sacred duty didn’t have to be all serious and dire all the time. Having fun with it was what made him damn good at it. Hell, he was nearing 53 and he was still alive. That was quite the feat in his profession. He took a long drag from his cigarette and leaned back against the cool stone bench. Most found cemeteries to be eerie, but he knew the truth. They could be downright dangerous, but he loved the high each fight brought him. “Good to know, I’ll keep that in mind while exploring the area. Hoping my nephew will show me around, too, once he’s over this flu he has.” He sipped on his whiskey as Alain shared the story of the penanggal. Fighting one alone. “Damn,” he started with a hint of awe in his voice, “Trick to take those on alone. I’ll say it-- I’m impressed.” It made sense for slayers and wardens to stick more to their focus, they were out at all times of the month. Sure, there were plenty of beasts besides werewolves, but vampires weren’t all that rare. Considering he was a bar fly on the nights he wasn’t hunting, he ran into his fair share. Drunks were easy targets for a meal he assumed. “Beasts can be pretty versatile in their own right, but I enjoy the fight. If it’s discernibly supernatural, it’s worth taking on in my book.” Fae were trickier and undead not quite as fun to fight, but each kill made the world just a little bit safer for humans. It was hard to feel bad about finding it fun. At the end of the day, he was still helping people and honoring his family’s code. “Yes, I’m from Bad Wimpfen. Spent a good amount of time in Lyon, France, too. Spent the past decade doing a fair bit of traveling to different hotspots.” Though this current town was in part influenced by Kaden being here. Yeah, he’d chosen not to start a family of his own, but that didn’t mean he didn’t like having close connections. Kaden was the closest living family he had left. While Alain didn’t seem a fan of how gross they were, he thought it sounded like a grand time. Getting a little messy never bothered him. “Could see how that’d be unpleasant. Decapitation is cleaner. Beast hunting is always a little dirty though. Never seen a fext either though undead seems more your ball park as the Americans say. Stryga I’ve seen a lot of. Bies is one of the more rare one I’ve seen. Wolf actually got away from me because I had to be more concerned about the ficken bies,” he’d refrained from mentioning that Kaden let the wolf get away. “Had to kill a volmugger once in Barcelona, too, though I had help with that one. Gotta love a beast with range attacks.”

Alain, who had never taken the time to really learn the name of most beasts that weren’t good enough for the ring, or undead, looked at Oscar with a slightly puzzled look on his face. It didn’t help that he heard bees instead of bies, and so it took him a small moment to understand that Oscar was not excited about pollinators. “Well, you’re in for a wild ride,” he patted the man’s arm and sat down on the bench with his cup still in hand. “Oh, you have some family in town, alright,” the slayer tried to think of other German hunters he might have met, but could not think of one that was still alive. Well, you could not know everyone. Truth was, Alain had fought the penanggal a while ago with his sister, Valérie, but he had no plans whatsoever starting to talk about his family, especially with someone who seemed familiar with the name. Either way, Alain would probably have been unable to get rid of such a creature these days. He hated to admit it, but if he had gotten a lot more experienced, there were things he could not pull off anymore. He brushed off the compliment and leaned back against the bench, sighing. “Yeah, I actually worked a few years for a fighting ring, catching beasts and…” And often fighting them too. He could see now how stupid this was, and how stupid he’d been then, still, he could not help but have some fond memories from that place, or the people he had met there. Thoughts of Audrey brought a sad smile to his face, which would be when he decided to talk instead of think. “I stick to the undead now. It’s a whole lot less messy,” he rubbed at his nose, thoughtful. “You have to be kidding me,” Alain himself was technically born in Lyon, and he knew of another hunter that was from that same city. “Well, I can’t wait to tell Kaden I met his uncle,” he shook his head, amused. Considering how things had been lately, Alain was not sure if he wanted to say anything about the younger hunter, still, he did, “Took him some time to adjust to the town, but it’s good to have him around here.” With those words, Alain finished his cup and put it down on the bench. Now little did Alain know that those bees Oscar kept mentioning were the exact thing he caught a glimpse of while repairing Jared Gordon’s tractor. “Well your face doesn’t look too bad for someone who fought one of those horrors.” It took a lot for Alain to feel revulsed, but this, it could make him feel this way. He could still remember the smell of flesh melting after having been hit with the acid of that beast. Fucking foul.

A wild ride was exactly what Oscar was looking for outside of getting some time to reconnect with Kaden. He knew the younger hunter was more than capable, but it was hard to not worry just a little bit while he was living in a hotspot. Charles and Lauren would have wanted him to keep an eye out on their kid and there was no denying the fact he cared for Kaden. “Wild rides are the only ones I like,” he joked before responding, “Yeah, nephew lives here… well, kid of some good friends mine. He’s always called me Uncle Oscar and it’s been over thirty years so I think family covers it for most.” It wasn’t all that complicated of a situation. Still, it felt weird that he of all people took in a teenager way back when. He never had kids of his own because he knew he’d be a shit dad, but he tried to do right by Kaden. A brow raised at the mention of a fighting ring that captured beasts. He sure as hell hoped those beasts ended up dead though Alain didn’t elaborate. It seemed to be a thing of the past and Oscar wasn’t one to force people dredge up their pasts. “Sounds like quite a gig,” he simply commented. Not quite his style. He preferred killing beasts outright over capturing them, but it probably meant Alain was a hell of a fighter. Plus, it wasn’t always the easiest to find odd jobs that worked in between hunting duties. He took another sip of whiskey and smiled brightly realizing this man knew Kaden. “Ah, good to know he’s made some friends here. Keep bugging him to take me to that hunter bar.” He nodded along, this town was strange and surely took some getting used to, but at least Kaden made connections with other hunters. It really helped in the staying alive department. “Makes sense, this place seems like quite the ride.” Considering the wolf and the bies, he was in pretty good shape. Kaden had gotten the brunt of the wolf’s attack. The loud sounds of gunfire had been enough to keep the bies from getting too close. He still cursed the fact the Krieg wolf got away, but he could understand Kaden’s instinct to protect him. “Thankfully, it didn’t get too close to me and I knew not to look in its eye. No new facial scars from that one,” he noted with a laugh. As badass as facial scars looked, they were an annoyance as they healed. He finished off his own cup and said, “Well, Alain, it’s been good meeting you. We should get together again some time, probably with Kaden. I suppose I should let you get back to beheading the undead.”

#wickedswriting #walk on the wild side #para #para oscar

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dancedelion · 4 years

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Be Good to Me (part 2 / 3)

Genre: angst with a happy ending, Beauty and the Beast AU Summary: Jaskier has just been broken up with (again), he has nowhere to stay (again) and people are booing his songs (again). He overhears the villagers talk about a beast in a castle in the woods. Then they mention it's supposed to be dangerous. Well, now he's got no other choice. That beast won't even know what's coming for it. (Geralt doesn't.) ao3: Be Good to Me part 1 Jaskier blearily blinks his eyes open, trying to find his bearings. Has he managed to charm his way into someone's bed again? Sneaked into someone's stables?

He turns his head and flinches back immediately – Geralt is standing next to the dining table and staring at him. Right, that's what happened. Forest walk, weird castle, incredibly handsome and vaguely threatening witcher.

“Have you just been watching me this whole time?” Jaskier says and sits up. “Don't know if that's more flattering or creepy.”

Geralt doesn't react to his flirting, but he doesn't rip Jaskier's throat out for it either, so Jaskier assumes that means he's free to go wild with it.

“Oh, hey, did you – did you put a blanket on me?” Jaskier says startled. “And didn't I fall asleep at the table?” “No, you didn't,” Geralt says – the filthy liar - and turns his head away – but Jaskier has decided he likes him, now. There is no more escape.

“You should leave as long as the sun is still up,” Geralt says.

“Leave? There is no way I'm leaving now. You should have thought about that before you let me eat cake and carried me to the sofa – you big softhearted brute, you. Yeah, pretty sure that's one of the most basic rules in the book called 'How to Come Across like a Monster' – if you want me to be scared of you, don't put a blanket on me while I'm sleeping. That's just not working out.”

Geralt turns to look at him with one of the old favorites, Menacing Glare.

“Oh, come on, don't make that face. Here's the good news – I'm going to stick around.”

“You're leaving tomorrow.” Clear step up from leaving before sun down. Jaskier hides his smile.

“Next week?” Jaskier tries to bargain.

“Tonight,” Geralt snarls.

“Yeah, yeah, tomorrow it is,” Jaskier quickly concedes. “Wanna give me a tour of the place?”

“It's a place.”

“Yeah, I gathered, but what about the rooms? How many are there? What are they like?” “Don't know. Haven't looked.” “You haven't looked? Well, you do seem more like an ourdoors-y kind of guy. Is that it? You roam the monster-infested forest for fun?”

“No. I'm just. Here.”

“Ah, that sounds... depressing. I'm going to take a look around, if you don't mind.”

Geralt starts to open his mouth, but Jaskier quickly lifts a finger. “And also if you do.”

Jaskier goes up the stairs again and walks down the hallway. He starts counting the doors, but stops at a lot. One door is a little bigger and framed with gold, so Jaskier opens it and finds – a library. A giant one, shelves up to the ceiling. Jaskier coughs, because there seems to be even more dust in this room.

He starts walking between the shelves. Oh, the educators at Oxenfurt would be so jealous if they knew about this place. The books seem to be about all kinds of topics, scientific and fictional alike. Jaskier turns to go back downstairs but stops – Geralt is leaning in the doorway.

“Gee, Geralt, you nearly gave me a heart attack,” Jaskier says. “You're so sneaky, like a – a – an assassin? A spy? No, like a -”

Geralt does that almost-smirk-thing again.

“A witcher?” he asks.

“Nah, that's not it,” Jaskier says thoughtfully. “A cuttlefish!”

Geralt raises his eyebrows.

“Yes, they're sneaky,” Jaskier scowls. “How would you know? Have you ever met one?”

“Have you?” “I – no, but – only because they're so good at sneaking away. I'm just gonna put it out there – a witcher is genetically probably at least ten percent cuttlefish.”

“Well, you don't choose your mutations. They choose you.”

Jaskier shakes his head a little, smiling, and steps closer.

“Did you know about this library?” Jaskier says. “I can't believe this is just in the middle of nowhere. I mean – this is incredible!”

“Hm,” Geralt says, “I've never been in this room.”

“A travesty. Look at this stuff! It's just got everything.”

Jaskier starts wandering again. Behind one of the shelves, he finds a cushioned armchair and gasps. “Okay, that does it. I'm living here now.”

Geralt looks like he's going to say something, so Jaskier shushes him. “No objections!” And it's working, because Geralt doesn't object.

So Jaskier picks one of the novels and sits down in the armchair, thinking to himself that he's not going to get up again in the next twelve years at least. Curled up in the armchair, Jaskier can forget about the loneliness that always seems to be just a step behind, about his songs that are really just as stale as the bread people throw at him. When he looks up again, Geralt is gone, so Jaskier turns to his book again. A while later, Jaskier sees him sitting by the window, carving something into wood. Jaskier smiles and pretends he read something funny. They sit there morning, midday, afternoon.

Jaskier asks the dinner table for warm bread like his mother used to make it. Apples like from the tree in front of his old house. He'd nearly forgotten what they tasted like.

Jaskier doesn't try to get close to Geralt. (He does wish he knew how to build a bridge.)

When evening breaks, Jaskier tries to find out which room Geralt lives in, but Geralt never seems to sleep. Instead, Jaskier goes into the room next to the library and falls onto the bed. His mind won't stop churning. The library, the magic dinner table, the strange but strangely kind witcher. Jaskier has to keep this somehow, he has to convince Geralt to let him stay. He falls asleep trying to think of something to say - please, I can offer you – free view of my gorgeous good looks, an abundance of annoying comments, accidental insults intended as compliments, songs no one wants to hear... a smile an ear a hand

*** “It's raining.”

Deep sigh.

“Do you want me to get wet, Geralt? Cold and wet, Geralt, that's just one step away from pneumonia, and that's just a step away from death.” “Fine. You're leaving tomorrow.”

*** “I heard a noise outside.”

Moderate sigh.

“I think there might be a monster just out the door just waiting for me. Do you want me to get killed, Geralt? Killed!”

“Fine. But tomorrow.”

*** “You know, I've really made friends with the bald guy in the painting over the fireplace and I feel like he might cry if I were leaving, maybe commit suicide -” “Jaskier.” “Yeah?” “Just stay.”

***

He does.

*** “No, I don't like him,” Geralt tells Roach. Roach huffs. “I don't! What, you think I like his chatter or his stupid questions or his pretty smile? Don't be ridiculous.”

He continues brushing down her side. “I don't even like his singing. I just like... that it's not quiet.”

Roach flicks her ear and tilts her head. Geralt pets her throat.

“He's not charming. He's annoying. Today, he found a chest with old clothes in them and decided to try them all on. And show me, too. It was very annoying.”

Roach neighs softly.

“No, I didn't like it,” Geralt says, “I don't even know why I bother talking to you. If you keep this up, I'm not going to give you another carrot.”

At that, she snubs her nose against his hand. He is already feeding her another carrot.

“You're supposed to be on my side, you know. Did he sneak down here to give you these snacks he remembered form Skellige? He did, didn't he?”

Geralt is going to say something else about Jaskier when he suddenly hears the front gate closing. His heart lodges in his throat immediately. Only one person could be at that gate – is Jaskier leaving? Why would he not say something?

(Afraid he'll get violent? Afraid he'll keep him here, forever, forever, forever? Or just so done with him – with his grunts, with his stilted responses, with his beastly eyes – that all he wants is to get away?)

And Geralt still doesn't know how to catch a ray of light, but he rushes out of the stables anyway. It's been weeks since Jaskier first came here – and Geralt is just – he's used to him now.

He stops in his tracks when he sees the figure on the courtyard – not Jaskier. Someone new. If his head hadn't been so clouded, he'd have noticed the smell earlier. Different.

She is rushing towards the castle. She hasn't seen him, but she's not looking left or right. He can hear her heavy breathing, her pained gasp. She trips and scrambles hurriedly to her feet again. Geralt quickly skims his surroundings, something must be following her. He can't sense anything in immediate proximity, so he goes after the girl instead.

He slips into the castle after her. She flinches at his grunt and spins around. A veil of relief lays itself over the deeper fear. He's a stranger and he knows how he looks – if she's relieved to see him, that means something scarier is after her.

“Please,” she says and he skims her slim figure, the ragged pale blue dress. Not appropriate for the colder temperatures. “Please, you have to help me hide.” “What's after you?” Geralt asks, already drawing his sword. “Species, size, state?”

“He's -”

She cuts herself off, too panicked to keep speaking, but she has already answered his first question. Human. The worst kind to get involved with.

“Come here,” someone says from the side. Jaskier is in the door of the dining room, beckoning her closer. “You're safe here.” She shuffles over to him and Jaskier quickly shuts the door behind them. Not a second later, a loud knock on the door rips through the air. Geralt swiftly moves behind the door, just as it opens.

“Hello?”

A stocky man walks through. Geralt presses his back to the door and lifts his sword quietly. Geralt takes in the plain clothes, the sweaty skin of his neck, the slow movements. Not a threat. Carefully, he sheathes his sword again and steps forward.

“What do you want?” Geralt asks. The man startles at his deep voice and turns.

“Oh, sir, I'm sorry to intrude. Did you happen to see that misbehaved girl somewhere around?”

“Why are you asking?”

“That miserable wench was promised to me by her father. We had... a slight disagreement.”

“I see,” Geralt says slowly. The man steps a little closer.

“You look strange,” he says, “oh Melitele, you're a freak, aren't you?” Geralt slams him against the door open door. The man clutches at his throat, but Geralt presses down harder.

“You're going to forget about this girl,” Geralt says, his voice deeper than usual. “You're going to walk out of this castle. You are never going to return to this place.” The man nods frantically. Geralt fixes him with a particularly vicious gaze and growls deeply. He snarls once, then punches the door right next to the man's head. The punch breaks the wood, but not Geralt's skin. When Geralt finally lets go of him, the man slumps. He keeps standing there a little frozen, shaking. Geralt barks. That's enough to get the man running. Geralt stands and waits until he sees that the man is gone, then he closes the door softly.

Behind him, the dining room door opens slowly. Geralt tries to relax his fist and get his breathing under control.

Jaskier and the girl are both staring at him wide-eyed.

“You heard that,” Geralt says quietly, knowing they did. He drops his shoulders, trying to appear as non-threateningly as he can. It's not a lot.

He knows how this goes. The girl was desperate before, didn't really get a good look at him when she asked for his help. Now it'll be different. She stares at him out of brown eyes, blown wide. She sees him. Jaskier does, too. They have seen the deranged look in his animal eyes, the hot anger he hides in his fists. Any minute now, she'll run from this place, from him, as far as she can. She looks so small next to Jaskier, a sheep in front of a wolf.

This is where Jaskier knows that the depictions of the townspeople may not reflect his appearance, but they paint a perfect portrait of his soul.

This is the monster living a mockery of human day-by-day.

This is escape into the biting cold, into the arms of kikimoras, ghouls, men with booming voices.

Let me try again, I think there is something human somewhere deep inside of me -

This is Geralt without a weapon, with his neck exposed.

This is -

“Wow. That was impressive,” Jaskier says. “Your hand went straight through and you didn't even take a swing. Phew, you scared the living daylights out of that guy. I reckon we won't be seeing him again for a while. We should have pie. Anyone else in the mood for pie? Yeah, we should definitely have pie. That was stressful.”

Geralt lets out a breath through his nose. His jaw slowly slacks. The girl finally takes her eyes off him.

Jaskier is already wandering back into the living room. With heavy steps, Geralt goes after him. The girl goes a little tense when he gets close, but she doesn't flinch.

She is shivering a little. Geralt quickly strides over to the sofa and grabs the blanket that's still lying there. He approaches her with it slowly – draping it over her might not go over too well. He holds it in her direction from a safe distance.

Jaskier is at the table, conjuring three different kinds of pie. The girl sits down on shaky legs.

“So,” Jaskier says, sliding into the seat next to hers. “What's your name?” “Zofia,” she says in a small voice. “I – Oh gods. Oh – thank you.” She turns to Geralt, who is standing awkwardly behind the seat across from Jaskier. “Thank you for saving me.” Geralt is too startled to answer.

“Do you want to tell us what happened?” Jaskier says, gentle in a way that Geralt could never manage.

“I – Gods, I can't go back. I have nowhere to go. My father -” she stops and clams her fingers across her mouth. She keeps speaking through her fingers. “He wanted me to marry that – that beast. I just had to – I ran. I don't -”

“You can stay here,” Jaskier says, giving her a reassuring smile. Geralt wants to curse the stupidity of it, of course she doesn't-

“Can I?” she asks him, a little shy, a little insecure.

Confused, Geralt hms.

“That means 'yes', don't worry about it,” Jaskier says, “now, may I offer you some pie?” Zofia is not very talkative, but Jaskier fills the silence for them. Geralt makes another fire, but his mind still goes over the encounter again and again. It's hard to make sense of. Why would she let him near her? Why would she eat in his presence? The only thing different than any time before is – Jaskier. He acts the way he always has – foolish, reckless, like Geralt doesn't scare him. Is he skilled at being an actor or skilled at being a fool?

After lighting the fire, Geralt stays on guard. Peace never lasts. That strange warm feeling in his chest never lasts. But just for tonight, when the sun sets, Geralt is still here, in front of the fire, listening to two voices.

*** A few days later, Jaskier finds the flowers. Geralt hadn't really tried to hide them, but he had almost forgotten about them, placed in one of the many rooms of the castle.

“Geralt, why are you letting these poor flowers die? These ones are fine, but there were petals all around them.”

Geralt stares at the flowers. There's only a handful of them left. Bright yellow buttercups. Flowers need tending to. But these ones have been cut off at the stem – they're doomed to die.

“Don't touch them,” Geralt grinds out. He's still staring at them, counting them, again and again. Five buttercups. Five weeks. He'd thought there were still more of them.

“Fuck,” he says.

“What's wrong?” Jaskier asks softly, eyebrows drawn together.

Five buttercups, forlorn in the big vase. There had been a bouquet of them once. Weeks, months, years even, once. Sunsets and sunrises.

(It is easy to lose track of the flowers in your garden.)

“Nothing,” Geralt lies. He snatches the vase and clutches it in his fingers. He's already thinking of another hiding spot.

(Can flowers grow eyes?) (How long before Jaskier finds the wooden statue of her?) (How many questions can Geralt evade?)

Jaskier accepts his lie, but Geralt can't that easily. Sunrises have become precious again.

*** The next time it happens, it's a scream, so much closer than usual. Geralt runs outside immediately. The days have been getting colder, snow has settled on the ground. This time, no one is in the court yard, but he rushes to the gate and there is another woman, in a blue cloak. Geralt's eyes dart around through the bars of the gate and it takes him only a moment to spot the kikimora, eight-legged and disgusting.

He knows the gate won't open for him, can feel the magic holding him in. Instead, he makes a grab for the dagger in his boot. The kikimora roars, looming over the white-haired woman. The dagger lodges itself in its jaw, and it gurgles, sways.

“Get over here,” Geralt calls.

The woman looks up at him helplessly. While she hurries to the gate, Geralt throws another knife, this time hitting its throat. The monster is still quick and after her. Geralt brandishes his sword, standing alert. He's out of daggers, out of options. There's nothing he can do.

(And he curses his curse -) Her hair, her pale skin, it would be barely visible in the snow, she would be nothing but a bloodstain on the ground.

Geralt would shake the iron bars, trying to rip them off with brute strength, if he didn't know how futile it was.

Do you want me to live in that moment forever, witch? How many times do I have to lose her?

The forest has become a stage for Geralt's worst mistakes and he is trapped in the audience. (Every corpse in this forest has died by Geralt's hand, has died by a footstep not taken.)

The woman reaches the gate fast, she slips in and as soon as the kikimora is here, has rushed after her, Geralt stabs it with his sword, easily. He hasn't unlearned how to take lives, monsters never do -

He is standing over its body, his fingers tightening around the handle of the sword. Breaths come out heavy. Here is another dead body, another one he didn't save. He looks into its eyes and wonders what it must be like.

Children lay down in snow sometimes. Joyfully laughing. Is snow soft to lay down in? Is snow a kinder coffin? Is it comfortable to be forgotten under the cold blanket of it?

(Are four yellow buttercups drowning in that too big vase?)

His teeth press together hard, like he's trying to bite through stone.

“I'm armed,” someone says. “So don't try anything.”

Geralt abruptly shakes his head and steps back, sheathing his sword again.

“Why didn't you use your weapon against him?” Geralt nods to the body.

He turns his head. The girl – the woman – old girl, young woman – clutches a pointy rock in her fingers. She didn't have it before, must have picked it up while he was distracted. Smart.

“I didn't have it before,” she says, “but don't think I'll hesitate to use it.” “Good on the improvisation,” Geralt says. “Don't think that'd be a fair fight.” He lifts his weaponless hands.

“Don't worry, I won't hurt you,” he continues.

“And why would I believe you, Mister Stranger?”

“I mean,” he says, tilting his head, “I did just save your life.”

She scrutinizes him a little and lowers the hand holding the rock.

“Okay. That's fair,” she says. Her shoulders relax, too. Then her head snaps up again. “But I'm keeping my eyes on you!”

Immediately, she turns her eyes away from him and starts walking towards the castle. Smiling quietly, Geralt follows behind.

“You wouldn't happen to have any food, would you?” she asks.

***

“So what's your name?” Jaskier asks, sliding a bowl of soup across the table. When Geralt had come in with the white haired girl, he hadn't even blinked, just led her to the dining room with easy touches, easy smiles.

The girl's gaze is guarded and she hesitates. “Fiona,” she says. Geralt can tell she has learned to be weary of strangers, but she has not yet learned how to lie. “I just got lost in the woods. I'm a peasant's daughter.”

Geralt watches her quietly, the way she looks down on the table and takes a sip from the soup. She's too thin, even considering that winter has started. She's running from something, and it's not just a kikimora.

“Shouldn't have gone through the swamp,” Geralt says.

He can't believe a word out of her mouth, but Geralt isn't too concerned. How do you trust someone who has nothing to hide?

“Yes, well, I was...” the girl says, still trying to find a place to look that's not Geralt's face, “I was in a hurry.”

She presses her lips together, like she's already said too much, and Geralt doesn't ask. In dimmed light, the face of a friend is indistinguishable from that of a foe. Sometimes closed lip smiles hide razor-sharp teeth. Sometimes someone will offer you a hand to get you to show yours.

“You can always stay here, if you want,” Jaskier says, not asking for permission because he knows Geralt's answer, “there's plenty of room everywhere. Too much, certainly. Lots of space unused, you'd really be doing us a favor.”

The girl stay silent for a long while. She's understood she's better off on her own, but not used to it. (Would you sleep in a monster's den if you had nowhere else to go?)

“You're good with a sword,” she says to Geralt eventually.

“I am.”

“Would you teach me?” she says, starts rambling, “I'm not completely useless, I can help around the house. I'll help clean, I'll dust, not to be rude, but that floor could really use a scrubbing -” “See, Geralt, she understands,” Jaskier says triumphantly. “Come on. You could use a real sparring opponent, I'm sure that tree you always hack away at has had enough of you by now.”

It's two against one. Geralt never really stood a chance.

*** Three voices. Heartbeats. Laughter, sometimes. Shuffling. Footsteps. The occasional crash. The occasional giggle.

Is this how to be human?

Is this how a house is lived in?

The girl – Fiona – the girl – has little fighting skill, but she learns quickly. They're in the entrance hall because it's big and bright. Jaskier is lounging on the stairs, Zofia next to him sewing.

Jaskier's quiet tune floats over to them. Geralt steps carefully, the girl imitates him. Are these ballroom dances, like stepping into footprints in the snow?

She still has an uncertain grip on her sword, even thought Geralt has showed her before. But she is quick, he'll giver her that, has good reflexes.

They spar every day now. Geralt picks up the wood to carve less and less.

He gets used to humans scarily quickly, barely looks at the paintings anymore.

She's a little better today and Geralt lets her knock the sword out of his hand. She smirks proudly, but Geralt's gaze skitters over to Jaskier.

“You're getting slower, old man,” he says, eyes twinkling.

Geralt holds his gaze.

Is this how to be human, with sweaty palms and an unsettling feeling in your stomach? With your throat dry? With your heart too quick?

Jaskier's smile is always a challenge and Geralt always loses against it.

These people are staying, for a little while. Like light in a bottle. Like something not to be kept.

Sometimes Geralt is alone, but from somewhere in the castle, he can always hear singing.

#geraskier fic #geraskier fanfiction #the witcher fic #the witcher fanfiction #geraskier #the witcher #witcher fanfiction #witcher fic #geralt x jaskier

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lucyhblack · 4 years

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Well.. I don’t know exactly where that idea came from. I was just imagining a scenario where a Mamba (an SF! Sans lamia bitty created by @vex-bittys) “falls in love” with the beauty and grace of a purple Betta fish and I imagined that such an animal would be great as a UL! Sans bitty… only I didn’t really like the combination Sf!SansxUL!Sans.

So I thought about replacing SF!Sans with HT!Sans… but I could only imagine Blood/Axe seeing the little fish as a quick snack. So the idea wasn’t working out in my head.

While I was imagining as a UL!Sans Betta would look like, I thought about the mixture of colors that it could have and somehow it turned into something that looked like the painting of a galaxy. From there it was a leap to turn Lust into Outer which immediately made me think of the adorable KillerxOuter drawings from @itsxroxannex and that was what followed.

(so I kind of know how I got here, but I swear I didn’t plan anything, just let the story come out word for word)

There is also a reference to Killer “adopting” a kitten that came from the drawings of @h0da and @rahofy-sketch.

I never thought of a story with these boys, or did I read more than a few drabbles with Killer or Outer (and I’m sure none with that particular pair).

Summary: Killer did not expect anything from that day/night, much less receive a gift from one of his “coworkers”.

Killer was sitting in his room at Nightmare Castle looking out the window, not that there was anything to look at. Outside the castle’s existence, there was only darkness surrounding the domains of the sticky skeleton, just like the monster itself.

No. This was not a good comparison. As dark, cruel and scary as Nightmare was, he was still “something”. The darkness outside was more like himself. Just a dark void, with nothing to offer or desire.

A knock on his door made him turn. Standing in the doorway was Cross, Nightmare’s newest minion, or rather, his new slave, not that Cross saw himself as either.

He stared at another version of him(one that was as “white and shiny” on the outside, but as stained and broken on the inside as everyone there) and imagined that he should be curious about the surprise visit.

Cross was not look for his other versions in the castle, in fact he rarely stayed in the shadowy castle, preferring to jump from AU to AU doing … whatever he had to do. So he wondered what he was doing there in his room .

Surely he hadn’t been there for a chat (even if between a crazy killer, a killer maddened by hunger and a sadistic megalomaniac, a murderer without feelings perhaps was the best option for a conversation … at least he wasn’t crazy) and if Nightmare wanted something to do with him, he would “summon” him and not send Cross like a errand boy.

Cross coughed and moved uneasily for be stared at in silence for so long. Killer just tilted his head, he might not be curious about what Cross was doing there, but he still remembered how to pretend to be.

Not that he was going to try too hard to fake a decent reaction. It wasn’t as if Cross didn’t know what he looked like, and he didn’t have to struggle to “please” or deceive him, so a simple gesture would do. Just a small mechanical movement, something your body did without your mind having to think too much… a conditioned response for the benefit of others and not for yourself.

-Uh… I… I… here!

Cross held out a transparent bag to him. The bag was stuffed and there was something dark about the size of a large apple floating inside. At that distance it was difficult to say what it was.

Killer wondered what he should do. He could ignore the other skeleton, but Cross had a volatile temperament, which could explode at any moment, and as much as he didn’t mind fighting, he figured Nightmare wouldn’t be happy if he ended up killing his new toy. Better to take whatever it was and get it over with.

He got up and walked over to Cross who just looked at him quickly before shifting his lights to the floor. There was a faint purple glow on his face and Killer quickly went over the feeling options he should have felt in that situation: embarrassment? Fun? Curiosity for sure. But since he didn’t feel them, he really couldn’t decide which one to express.

He held out his hand and Cross passed the bag to him. It was heavier than he expected and he held it up to see what it was. It was full of water and…

It took his mind a second to process what he was seeing. Was it… a fish? It kind of looked like a heap of blue algae floating like a drowner’s hair. He moved a little closer and the tail, if that was it, moved away with a flourish revealing the rest of the creature. A small skull attached to a tiny torso attached to a shiny ecto-tail. It was another version of them, but tiny and half attached to a fish (or some species of sea creature).

A tiny version of a Sans… something tickled his mind. There was a name for that, wasn’t there? Ah yes! A bitty! A miniature version of a monster that in many universes were considered pets. But shouldn’t they have legs?

He looked away from the creature and looked at Cross. Still without looking at him, he began to murmur.

-There was nothing useful in this world. Just… these little things… bittys. Nothing worth using… Error should end this… madness, soon.

It was almost difficult to understand the murmured words, especially when he partially sunk his face, hiding it in his robes.

Okay, so he went to an AU, but he didn’t find anything he could steal to “rebuild” his own destroyed universe. Apparently Nightmare had also found no use for it and had handed it over to Error to destroy it. Nothing new, but why the “gift”?

-And? - He lifted the bag to Cross. It’s okay to get a little souvenir, but why were giving it to him?

-Well, Nightmare killed your cat… I thought… there was nothing… feline there, and, well… that’s not quite a substitute! But maybe… you would like… it…

Cross finally answered looking at him. His speech going from shy to embarrassing and then to defensive and back for the embarrassed. Maybe because in the end he noticed the ridiculous thing he was talking about.

Killer tried to piece together this explanation with no apparent meaning.

A few weeks ago he had found a cat wandering around the castle, a thin, elusive little thing, most likely one of Ax’s “snacks”, and on a whim he picked it up. The cat stayed in his room and he just fed it mechanically, until one day he must have escaped and Killer found him dead at the feet of Nightmare

That meant nothing, he just let the animal stay there and fed it when it demanded it, not because he cared or anything, it was just another automatic reaction from his body, something he knew he should do, not what he wanted to do. And now Cross had gone to some bizarre AU and brought a small version of them to “not replace” the dead cat.

A part of his mind told him that he should laugh at “maybe he was going to like it” (or even more from the stupid notion that he might be offended by Cross’s attempt to replace the dead animal with another).

He knew it was difficult for people to understand that he didn’t feel anything (how could they when they were full of feelings? Even more so Cross, so full of pain , bitterness and hope), but he didn’t feel amused and pretending was a big effort to just tease Cross.

-Ok. - He replied before Cross continued trying to explain their motivations.

The skeleton looked at him suspiciously, looking for something in his face, which he certainly wouldn’t find. Cross shifted his weight from one foot to the other as the silence stretched on until it became too much for him, who just nodded (agreeing with what Killer had no idea,) and turned down the hall and disappeared into the shadows.

Killer stood still for a moment in front of the door, holding the bag up before lowering his arm and turning slowly. He stared at the interior of his room without really seeing it, thinking about what he should do now.

The most logical thing was to get rid of it… but how should do it? Should kill him? Throw it in the toilet (that’s what they did with dead fish, wasn’t it? Except he wasn’t dead yet, and he didn’t have a toilet).

He thought about dropping the bag on the floor. Perhaps the creature would die in the fall and it would be less of a problem. Or should he give it to Axe? It would certainly be of more use to Axe than to him.

He blinked slowly, returning to see the room. It was almost a copy of the room he had once in the Underground, only much more empty and clean. There was only the mattress, with no pillows or sheets, the broken lamp and the magical hurricane, now without trash in a corner. There was no dresser, garbage or socks lying around, much less an answer to your question.

Suddenly the hurricane jumped and moved to its mattress where it seemed to belch before sliding back into its corner. Perched in the middle of the mattress, already half filled with water, was an aquarium.

Killer shrugged at the strangeness and went over to the object. He tore the bag and let the bitty drain with the water into the container below. The creature fell with a “plop” and a protest. So the creature could speak, it was to be imagined.

He bent down to watch him.

Now that he was no longer squeezed into a bag he can see it much better. It was definitely a fish, although its fins were so wide and thin they looked like hair dancing in the water, moved almost as if they had a life of their own.

He had a vague memory of knowing what kind of fish it was, but he couldn’t remember and the effort in trying was a waste of time (even if time was something he had left over). He just remembered that it was something decorative.

And decorative he looked.

Its upper part was nothing special, smooth bones and round lights, both white, a Sans Classic like thousands of others scattered in the Multiverse. But your bottom? Oh! It was a separate show.

The ecto-body was a deep blue, in the low light of the room it looked almost black. Much darker than any magic he had ever seen in a Classic, with spots of a lighter shade, almost iridescent and full of tiny bright yellow points. Its tail and fins were long and looked so thin.

They were of the same dark blue tone, but as they approached the tips, they lightened and took on a more purplish hue. They were also splashed with yellow spots.

He thought that if he felt something he should be fascinated or even envious of something so beautiful.

The little skeleton was staring back at him through the glass, he didn’t seem to be afraid, and he even swam closer to the glass, touching with his tiny hands to the barrier and tilting his face to face him better.

He swam in a somewhat “nervous” way full of quick movements, with his fins moving as if they were floating in the water. The movement made the colors tremble and blend and Killer remembered photos in a book long seen, in another world, another life.

-Galaxies… - he spoke without thinking. The bitty swam in that agitated way to the surface, his skull breaking through the water. - Are you an Outer Sans?

He had never been to the Outer universe before (he was, after all, one of the few that Error “liked” and Nightmare hadn’t wanted to create a friction with the Multiverse Destroyer for it… yet). But he had heard reports about it and imagined that a pattern that resembled both pictures of the universe and galaxies should belong to a Sans from that universe.

-Hum… I’m a Sansy type and in my tank it said that I was a Starlaxy, it seems that I’m based on a Betta HalfMoon or something.

Betta… yes, that’s what these little fish were called. Small, showy little things… there was something else, something with puddles and fights, but he did not delve into the memory.

Starlaxy… Star+galaxy? It was a good description of its tail. Already Halfmoon didn’t say anything to him, but there were 3 spatial factors, it was enough for him to classify him as Outer (and if not, who cares?).

-Are you my new master? - the “little fish” asked.

Killer considered the question. Well… Cross had given it to him, he supposed it made him his. Even though “master” made him think of Nightmare and he couldn’t imagine giving orders to the bitty (or that the bitty could do anything useful for him). Owner, maybe it was more accurate… at least until Nightmare or Dust found it and destroyed it, or Axe found it and devoured it.

-You can say it like that… - The position was bothering him. He was supposed to get the aquarium out of bed, but it looked heavy and a useless effort. He mentally shrugged and lay on the floor beside the mattress facing the ceiling.

-And what’s your name?

Killer. - he replied without looking at him.

He thought how strange these bittie creatures were. The creature didn’t look scared of him. Maybe it was too stupid, or maybe the Outers were more like the Swap (or the bitties are) and had no sense of self-preservation. If they were like that, Error could end up “adopting” some of these little creatures before destroying their universe (and “losing” them somewhere in Anti-Void).

He wondered if he would see any of these universes, but he believed not. Nightmare was focusing on Cross and didn’t need him at the moment. What left him there, with nothing to do.

Well, he supposed that for a being that was fed by negative feelings, it was more interesting to be beside another being that he could feel than one that was just an empty vessel. Bonus point he thought. Feed on both the “victims” that Cross left behind, and Cross himself.

With nothing to do, all he had to do was wait and the only advantage of having no feelings or desire was that he did not feel bored or anxious.

-So… what’s mine?

Killer turned his head and faced the bitty who had rested his arms on the edge of the aquarium and stared at him with his head resting on his crossed arms, his tail floating lazily below him.

-Your what?

-My name. - It answered.

Was it some kind of prank?

-Starlaxy? - he tried. The other snorted looking at him with mild indignation.

-No! that’s the name of what I am. Not who I am.

When he got no response from Killer, he continued.

-You know… Bitty species, type Sansy … - he enunciated moving a one hand in the air - I need a proper name. You are my master, so you name me.

-Why don’t you name yourself? - He replied.

It made sense to name a dog or a cat, but a being who could think and communicate alone? Why didn’t you name yourself?

-Hum… well I’m a bitty… it’s tradition that the owner names us. - But he himself sounded a little uncertain of that.

-Starlaxy is fine.

Killer closed the orbits while the little fish moaned.

-I’m too lazy to think about something. - It was a standard answer, something he would say whenever asked in the past and didn’t have or didn’t want to answer, so it seemed like a good answer now. - If you don’t like, name yourself.

And turned around turning his back to the aquarium. Everything was silent and he had almost fallen asleep when Bitty spoke again.

-Outer.

Killer turned to face him again.

-That’s what you called me the first time. - The little fish replied with a sleepy smile.

-Outer is also just a “rating”. - He replied.

The then self-appointed Outer just shrugged before answering.

-Yeah, I’m also too lazy to think of anything better. - He winked before letting go and sinking back into the water. He swam to the bottom of the aquarium, where he crossed his arms and leaned his head on them, closing the orbits and seeming to fall asleep in a few seconds.

Killer watched him. The little bubbles that floated from his skull from time to time, his fins dancing softly around him, making the colors mix and the golden spots seem to blink like tiny stars. Those little things rocked him to sleep while he thought the little fish was really beaultiful.

He fell asleep with the image of that cheeky wink and the memory, long forgotten, of the feeling of his own smile.

***

I don’t know if there are betta type bitties (probably there are), but the one described here was imagined by me (both the appearance and the name) and I don’t get it from some bitty site.

I always imagined that Killer would be more difficult to write… but until it flowed very easily (and I can’t believe I wrote this and am posting it, all in one day!)

Comments, questions and criticisms are welcome and thank you for reading!

#undertale #outertale #ot!sans #killer sans #outer sans #killerxouter #outerxkiller #mention of animal death #murder thoughts #nothing graphic #bittybones #bitty sans #merskeleton #kind of #betta bitty #betta sans #fanfic #my fic #betta for you

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